Professors who had nothing to offer yet still didn't know their place were the most annoying.
With a trace of contempt for Professor Trelawney in her heart, Hermione slowly adjusted her posture, doing her best to radiate an air of haughty elegance.
It served no practical purpose, but in terms of sheer presence, the newly radiant Hermione was now far more imposing than the shriveled Professor Trelawney.
Then she deigned to glance at the crystal ball.
Hmm.
Sure enough, she couldn't see anything. But she had her own particular standards as a top student. She couldn't just make up a little story about getting hurt to humor the professor, the way Ron and the other young wizards did.
Clearly, the two of them were about to have another serious argument.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. They had previously used the joke about Trelawney being a Celestial Dragon to rein Hermione in. Hermione had let things slide that time, but the trick hadn't worked a second time.
On that occasion, Hermione and Professor Trelawney had argued all the way until the next lesson began. Ever since then, nobody in the classroom had offered either of them a way to back down. After all, watching an argument for an entire lesson was more entertaining than actually having a lesson.
Those spectators had previously included Kane. Aside from this sort of divination magic involving moonlight, he wasn't particularly interested in the other spells.
But not this lesson. For once, all the conditions were right, and Professor Trelawney was planning to teach some dry, factual material. He couldn't let Hermione waste this precious time.
He was just considering how to persuade Hermione. *Don't get angry. For the sake of a poor, lonely little orphan Muggle wizard like me, could someone from a comfortably