"Many witches and wizards are extremely talented in the areas of loud bangs, strange smells, and sudden disappearances…"
Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, glittering eyes moving from one nervous face to another.
"But they cannot pierce the mysterious veil of the future.
This is a rare gift possessed by only a few.
You, dear—"
She suddenly turned to Neville, who nearly toppled off his pouf.
"How is your grandmother?"
"I… I think she's all right," Neville stammered, still a little shy but no longer completely terrified.
"If I were you, I wouldn't be so sure, my dear," Trelawney said. The firelight made her long emerald earrings sparkle.
Neville shot Sean a helpless look.
Sean's expression grew slightly serious.
Hermione looked startled by the professor's blunt "high emotional intelligence."
If this counted as a prophecy, Sean thought, it had already come true. Later that year Neville would accidentally leave the password lying around, letting Sirius Black into the Gryffindor common room and earning his grandmother's furious Howler.
Trelawney continued in that same dreamy voice:
"This year we will study the basic methods of Divination.
In the first term we will focus on reading tea leaves. In the second term we will begin palmistry.
By the way, my dear—"
She suddenly addressed Parvati Patil.
"Beware a red-haired man."
Parvati glanced nervously at Ron sitting behind her and quickly scooted her chair farther away.
"Hey!" Ron muttered under his breath, the innocent victim of yet another random prophecy.
In a non-magical world, Sean would have called this classic cold reading—throw out a vague detail and let people fill in the blanks.
"Watch out for a boy with a dark mark."
Black hair, black eyes, black clothes… even a name with "black" in it would work.
A broad detail matched to any event, paired with the right delivery, and anyone could sound like a Seer.
But this was magical Hogwarts…
Sean replayed the words in his mind. The warning probably pointed to several things at once:
Ron Weasley—the most obvious red-haired boy Parvati knew at Gryffindor.
Trouble would reach her through Ron. The specific event?
Soon Scabbers would be "found dead" (actually just molted and left blood behind), and Parvati's pet would faint at the sight of the "blood."
As the closest red-haired person to her, Ron had indirectly caused her a scare and some trouble.
There was also one other red-haired "man" who had nothing to do with Parvati… but who had once been a rat.
"In the summer term," Trelawney continued,
"we will move on to crystal balls—provided we have finished fire omens, of course.
Unfortunately, classes will be canceled in February due to a nasty flu outbreak. I myself will lose my voice.
Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."
A frightened silence fell. Trelawney didn't seem to notice.
"Dear—" she said to Lavender Brown, who was huddled in the nearest chair, "could you hand me the largest silver teacup?"
Lavender looked relieved. She fetched the enormous cup and set it on the table in front of Trelawney.
"Thank you, dear. By the way, the thing you are most afraid of will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."
Lavender began to tremble.
That prophecy would also come true. On October sixteenth, Lavender would receive terrible news from home—her beloved rabbit Binky had been killed by a fox. Exactly what she had always feared most.
Trelawney gazed around at the students.
Then her eyes locked onto Sean.
"You… you…"
Suddenly she went rigid in her armchair, eyes glassy, mouth hanging open.
"What's wrong with her?" Hermione shouted, half worried, half indignant.
But Trelawney didn't seem to hear. Her eyes rolled back. The class stood frozen, afraid she was having some kind of fit.
"We should probably take her to the hospital wing…" Neville suggested, biting his finger.
Then Trelawney spoke again. The voice that came out was harsh and completely unlike her usual dreamy tone.
"An unrecognized ending… a path that has strayed from its track… He remains cunning, arriving from the place of no expectation—the one who would defy fate must be careful… The seventh…"
Trelawney's head dropped to her chest with a gurgling sound.
Then, just as suddenly, she sat up straight again.
"I'm so sorry, dear children," she said, blinking hazily. "It is dreadfully warm in here, you know… I must have dozed off…"
Sean stared at her, stunned.
Had Professor Trelawney just… given him a real prophecy?
His quill had moved faster than his brain, scribbling down every single word she'd said. He stared at the parchment.
In the wizarding world, prophecies were never empty air.
And that had felt like one of Trelawney's true trance states…
Sean decided he would study the words carefully once class ended.
"Oh…" Trelawney sat up, looking startled. The students edged a little farther away.
"Now, I would like you all to divide into pairs.
Each of you, take a teacup from the shelf and bring it to me so I may fill it with tea.
Then sit down, drink until only the dregs remain.
Swirl the dregs three times with your left hand, turn the cup upside down on the saucer, and wait until the last drop has drained.
Then pass your cup to your partner to read.
You may consult pages five and six of Unfogging the Future for the shapes.
I will walk among you to help and guide."
She suddenly grabbed Neville's arm as he tried to stand.
"After you break your first cup, dear, would you be so kind as to choose one with a blue pattern? I'm so very fond of the pink one."
Sure enough, the moment Neville reached the shelf there was a loud crash of breaking china.
Trelawney hurried over with a dustpan and broom.
"Dear, if you wouldn't mind taking a blue one instead… thank you…"