"Meow!!!!"
Pomona heard a cat yowl. Looking down, she saw Mrs Norris chasing a rat.
The rat looked fatter than an ordinary one, sleek and glossy, like Percy's "pet," Scabbers. Fleeing from Mrs Norris, it ran blindly into the depths of the fog.
Pomona dearly wished she had the Marauder's Map, but after appearing once in Patricia's possession, it had vanished without a trace.
Many people remembered the famous cartoon mouse as wearing overalls, but in fact, it wore nothing on its upper body and only shorts on its lower half. There were no suspenders at all.
Human memory could sometimes suffer collective errors. There had even been a mass amnesia at one Quidditch World Cup; no one remembered the match, even though the tickets had already been sold.
As she ran, she heard a woman crying. Hearing that sound at this hour was truly terrifying. Fortunately, the crying person was along her route. It turned out to be Sybill, wandering about with a bottle of alcohol.
No one at school listened to Sybill's prophecies. After all, to make her predictions sound more grave, she was always predicting that students would die.
But at the Department of Mysteries, Sybill's prophecies had been made into prophecy spheres and stored among countless glass orbs. When Pomona had visited, a staff member had told her that the spheres were protected, and anyone unrelated to a prophecy could not touch it.
Clouds of mist floated within the prophecy spheres. They resembled the fog before her, yet were not quite the same...
"Sybill!" Pomona shouted.
Trelawney jumped in fright and instinctively hid the bottle behind her back.
"What are you doing here?" Trelawney demanded of Pomona first.
"I'm patrolling." Ignoring the reek of alcohol on Trelawney's breath, Pomona said, "It's late. You should go back."