The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

"Shillem Julien Black, tell me what you saw?" To everyone's surprise, Professor Trelawney was the first to approach him.

Julien hurriedly flipped through the book to compare, "Uh, this, there's nothing particularly noteworthy about Burns' teacup." He flipped through a few more pages, and indeed there wasn't.

"Use your inspiration, Blake. Divination is a course that requires inspiration."

"Uh, I see some scattered little flowers, like the afternoon flowers that can be seen everywhere." Julien glanced at Susan's expectant eyes beside him. "I think this represents that although Susan has a simple appearance, she has resilience, courage and tenacious vitality, which embodies a different kind of beauty."

After saying that, Yu Lianchang let out a long breath and noticed that Susan's lips were slightly upturned.

"Hmm, so-so." Professor Trelawney nodded noncommittally. "She has a little talent, but not much."

"And what about you, Miss Burns?"

“I see a pattern in the tea stains in Julien’s cup that looks like a house, hmm, I think,” Susan hesitated, pointing to an illustration in her textbook, “I think it’s a church, or maybe a castle. Symbolizing mystery? Or maybe this castle is Hogwarts. Indeed, I also think Julien is a mysterious person at school.”

Seeing Susan finish speaking hesitantly, Trelawney clearly didn't believe her. She leaned over to look, then her face lit up with surprise.

With a hoarse voice, Trelawney whispered, "It is indeed a castle, but it is definitely not Hogwarts. It gives off a cold and despairing feeling. It's not a good omen."

After Trelawney finished speaking, she quickly straightened up. "Clearly, Miss Burns, you need to reassess your initial impression of Mr. Black."

"What do you mean?"

Julien shrugged and spread his hands, but his mood gradually became heavy.

"Mr. Weasley, it's your turn." Trelawney now strolled over to Harry and Ron's table.

“Uh, this is Harry’s cup.” Ron frowned, “It has a spot like a cricket bowler’s hat,” he said, glancing at his book, the Divination textbook being “Seeing the Future Through the Fog” written by her ancestor Cassandra.

"This means you will be working at the Ministry of Magic..."

Is there any connection? Harry wondered.

Ron turned the cup upside down and flipped it over again.

"It looks like a coconut... what does that mean?" He flipped through his textbook and said, "Oh, 'unexpected gains, unexpected gold,' great, can I borrow some to spend..."

"Haha." The whole class was amused by Ron's judgment. Amid the laughter, only Julien noticed that a figure had suddenly appeared next to Harry and Ron's desk.

It was Hermione. Julien's eyes lit up; the Time-Turner had arrived.

Suddenly, Trelawney's gaze fixed on Harry.

Those eyes, distorted by the magnifying glass, widened, and a glint of near-terrification flashed in their watery irises.

Professor Trelawney staggered back a step, glancing once more at the teacup in Ron's hand. The tassels on her shawl trembled violently, like a swarm of startled insects.

"No..." she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "No... this can't be..."

The classroom fell into a deathly silence. Harry sat frozen in his seat, his green eyes wide open, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his teacup.

"Professor?" Hermione's voice broke the silence, clear and habitually defiant. "Are you alright?"

Harry and Ron were surprised by Hermione's sudden appearance, but at that moment they couldn't care less about anything else, or rather, all the eyes of the class were on Trelawney.

Professor Trelawney did not answer. Like a deer illuminated by car headlights, she stared intently at Harry, her lips trembling as she uttered the words that would forever echo in that classroom:

"Child...you carry...an ominous sign..."

"What?" Ron's voice changed.

"Ominous," Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly boomed, as if announcing some kind of destiny, "In the tea leaves... I saw... a black dog... wandering in the cemetery... in the shadow of death..."

She pointed to Harry's teacup, her fingers trembling like withered branches in the wind.

Julien leaned slightly forward and looked at it from his position—it was nothing more than a blurry clump of tea leaves, the shape of which could be interpreted as anything: a dog, a deer, or even a flying broom.

"This is an ominous sign," Professor Trelawney's voice lowered, carrying an almost fanatical certainty, "the most ominous sign... a harbinger of death..."

"Nonsense!"

Hermione's voice was like a sharp pair of scissors, shredding the terrifying atmosphere Trelawney had woven into pieces.

She stood up, her brown hair looking like a burning flame in the light filtering through the purple curtains.

"Professor! Every year, people are told they are about to suffer misfortune," Hermione's voice was clear and calm. "Every year, people are 'seen' signs of death. But as far as I know, not a single student has actually died because of these prophecies—"

"Miss Granger!" Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly sharpened, like fingernails scraping against glass, "How dare you—how dare you question—"

“I’m questioning the method,” Hermione retorted. “The shape of the tea leaves depends on how the water is poured, the material of the cup, even the room temperature. To predict the future this way is like—like judging tomorrow’s weather by the scream of a mandrake!”

Julien sighed softly.

Hermione's logic was impeccable, but at this moment, in this room filled with purple silk and crystal balls, logic was actually the most out of place thing.

He saw Professor Trelawney's face turn bright red, the students around him with expressions of fear and confusion, and the shadow in Harry's eyes that had been temporarily dispelled by Hermione's rebuttal but had not completely disappeared.

"Sit down, Miss Granger," Professor Trelawney's voice was cold and authoritative. "Your... rational thinking... has no place in the halls of divination. Perhaps you should consider abandoning this course and instead study those... things that can be measured and calculated."

Hermione's lips pressed into a stern line, but she sat down. Julien noticed her fingers were clenched tightly together under the table.

"As for you, Mr. Potter," Professor Trelawney turned to Harry, her voice becoming ethereal again, "please be careful... the black dog waits in the dark... the shadow of death is never far away..."

"Ignore her!" Hermione whispered behind Harry.

"Your turn next, Mr. Grubb..."

"It's obvious you don't have any talent for opening your third eye..."

"What did Mr. Gore see...?"

"Unfortunately, your talent has once again exceeded its limits..."

The lesson ended in a strange atmosphere. Professor Trelawney announced that the next lesson would cover the basics of the crystal ball, and then, just as she had appeared, disappeared behind a purple veil.

---

That evening, at the long table in the restaurant.

"So you chose divination," Rozier said, sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, his star brooch glittering in the firelight, "to observe that madwoman?"

"It is to observe...the nature of prophecy."

Julien corrected, toying with a tea dreg he had "borrowed" from Trelawney's classroom.

"As Grindelwald said, true prophecy is not about seeing the future, but about understanding all the possibilities of the present."

"And Trelawney?"

“She’s a different type,” Julien said, holding up tea leaves to the firelight. “Her prophecies are occasionally accurate, like the prophecy that Harry was the savior—that was something she released. But the way she does it is completely uncontrollable. It’s not like the 'Heavenly Eye' she talks about; it’s more like…”

"Like what?"

"Like a receiver," Julien said, "a receiver of some ancient power. She doesn't understand it herself, so she can only express it in a dramatic way."