Cassandra's Prophecy

"That damn tree refuses to believe it's grown up." Covered in dirt, Pete leaned against the railing, drinking water as he spoke to Pomona. "It thinks it can still grow taller."

When young trees were in their growth phase, they first grew vertically. Only after reaching a certain stage did they develop horizontal roots. You could tell just by carefully observing the sprouts.

Generally speaking, the longer the vertical roots grew, the taller the tree became. Only when its roots ran deep enough would the crown and trunk above ground avoid toppling over. They were like a house's foundation—if the foundation was unstable, it did not matter how magnificent or sturdy the structure above it was.

"Then dig a hole and let it keep growing."

"Dig again? Do you want to break Hogwarts' defensive magic?" Pete flicked Pomona on the forehead.

"Then what should we do?"

"You teach me, Professor Martin. Oh, I nearly forgot—Professor, what's on the fourth-year Ordinary Wizarding Levels Herbology exam?"

"Why not just ask about the seventh-year exams while you're at it?"

"I don't think you'll make it that long. It just so happens that a friend's younger brother is taking the exam this year. How about helping out?"

"Is that how you make friends?" Pomona hated this kind of cheating.

Pete gave a cold laugh, apparently finding her naïve.

"You still don't have a girlfriend?" Pomona asked with concern. She could practically foresee Eddie Watt's future love life. No matter how she looked at Pete, he did not seem like the kind of loser Eddie was.

Pete took out a cigarette, and Pomona's mouth fell open in surprise. "You smoke?"

"I never smoke at home."

Pomona felt that witnessing the Cruciatus Curse might have affected her. She had gone crazy enough to think Pete looked handsome right now.

"Smoking affects your height." As Pomona reminded Pete, she also found a solution to the problem: keep drugging the Whomping Willow. But a new problem arose—how was she supposed to persuade Pete to quit smoking?

"Where did you learn to smoke?"

"How did you know I was smoking?"

Pomona curled her lip. "Muggle stuff."

"How about we take this chance to build a tunnel out? Then I can take you to Hogsmeade. Otherwise, when you're in third year, I'll be in seventh, and I won't have time to play with you."

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"If people found out I was dating a first-year, I'd never get a date with Angie for the rest of my life." Pete smiled as he revealed the girl he had a crush on.

Pomona suddenly wanted to grow up quickly.

"You've studied here for so many years, and you don't know any other ways to sneak out?" Pomona wanted to treat him, considering Pete's friend had done her such a huge favor. But Hufflepuff held feasts every day, with food so lavish that they would probably find Hogsmeade's offerings shabby.

"The school is dangerous. Didn't Pringle say so on the first day?" Pete blew out a smoke ring. "Besides, I don't like wandering around at night."

Pomona thought for a moment, then told Pete about what had happened in the greenhouse before.

"Slytherin is very radical right now. There are Death Eaters mixed in with them. It was unwise of you to declare war on them at the Quidditch match."

"Do you think I'm a coward?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's there to say? Glory for Hufflepuff's glory, cheers for Hufflepuff's cheers, shame for Hufflepuff's shame. Bellatrix Black laid hands on our girl—how could we just swallow it?"

"It'll be dangerous. Really dangerous. I don't want to attend your funeral."

"You just need to not tell Dumbledore. And Professor, you're going to be late." Pete pointed toward Ravenclaw Tower. "If you run now, you can still make it."

Pomona felt Pete was speaking with a double meaning, mocking her for being a coward. Before leaving, she pulled a face at him. Pete childishly pulled one back, and she took back what she had said about him being handsome. He was still that big boy who spat out half a mouthful whenever he drank oatmeal.

Cassandra Trelawney was a renowned seer. Unfortunately, after her, the Trelawney family rarely produced anyone with genuine prophetic ability. One of her great-grandsons even married a Muggle woman. Many people believed that prophecy and divination had become useless, just like Muggles.

The one teaching at Hogwarts now was Cassandra's granddaughter, Patricia Trelawney, a madwoman who dressed herself like a Gypsy woman. It was hard to believe she had graduated from Ravenclaw.

There were no chairs in her classroom. Everyone sat on carpets, with soft cushions scattered all over the floor. She also handed out sticky taffy that clung to the students' teeth, making her look more like a fraud.

Her class was even more boring than Binns's, and combined with staying up late, Pomona's eyelids grew heavier and heavier after half an hour of holding on. Eventually, she simply fell asleep. She slept wonderfully, without a single dream. Omar Treusi used his newly bought camera to take a picture of her. Her mouth hung wide open, drool running from the corner of it, making her look like an idiot. Although Susan snatched the photograph back for her in the end, Pomona's reputation was utterly ruined. All the boys laughed at her.

She now had the determination to cast Avada Kedavra on Omar, but although she spoke the incantation and pointed her wand at him, not even a spark appeared, let alone green light. Omar remained lively and well, proving that Unforgivable Curses were not so easy to cast. A killing curse was a killing curse—why did it have to be called an Unforgivable Curse? It was completely redundant.

"Don't be upset, Pomona." Mary came over to comfort her. "Boys are all idiots."

Just wait until the day you fight another girl over some idiot, and then you'll know who's more foolish.

Still in that gloomy mood, Pomona followed everyone else to Care of Magical Creatures. This was the class that had been switched with yesterday's History of Magic. After this class came lunchtime, and many first-years carried picnic baskets, apparently planning to have a picnic by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"What classes do we have this afternoon?" After the incomprehensible Care of Magical Creatures class ended, Pomona ate lunch on the grass with her roommates. They really were quite nice; they had all remembered to bring her share.

"Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes." Jane spoke while swatting at the mosquito buzzing around her face.

"I heard your family seems to support Muggles." Mary put down her fish sandwich and looked at Jane.

"Not everyone. Just a few cousins, like Arthur. He and Molly live at The Burrow now."

"They're married?" Mary continued asking.

"Of course. Their son Bill was born last year, and I even attended his christening."

"Didn't you say you weren't on his side?" Mary pressed on.

"He's my cousin. What does attending my nephew's christening have to do with politics?"

Pomona chewed her food with her eyes closed. This fish sandwich was delicious.

"Pomona, you really stole the show yesterday." Mary changed the subject, shifting the trouble onto her. "I had no idea you were so impressive."

"If you help me, I can find a way to get Professor Slughorn to waive your Potions homework."

"Really?" Her roommates all cried out.

"Of course, as long as you help me sort out the greenhouse."

The girls' newly kindled enthusiasm was immediately extinguished. It seemed they would rather do Potions homework than tend to that greenhouse.

The conversation drifted and wandered until it eventually turned to Patricia Trelawney, who had taught Divination that day.

"I heard her grandmother was an incredible seer. Why does she seem to have no talent for it?" Jane said.

"Maybe because she graduated from Ravenclaw, she's always a bird of ill omen." Mary said indignantly.

"I heard Dumbledore was once given a prophecy by her when he was young." Susan took a sip of orange juice and said mysteriously, "She even gave him a prophecy sphere, saying that a secret would be revealed a hundred years later."

"What secret?" the three girls asked together.

Susan shrugged. "How would I know?"

And so that topic came to an end, and everyone began discussing something else.

As everyone knew, Dumbledore had been born in 1844 and entered Hogwarts in 1855. A hundred years later would be at least 1955. Did that mean Cassandra's prophecy was about to start coming true soon?

Pomona thought as she ate her pudding. Should she ask Dumbledore, as a colleague, what the prophecy had been about?