Outside the Divination classroom, Trelawney was just about to go in when a voice behind her made her tremble.
"Professor, please wait a moment."
The bottles in Trelawney's arms crashed to the floor. Terror filled her eyes as she collapsed into the broken glass, blood slowly seeping into the spilled liquor.
Oblivious to it all, she murmured.
"Why must you all force me? Why must you all force me? I really can't divine any prophecy about dawn and thunderbolts. Please, just leave me alone..."
As Trelawney spoke, her voice grew louder. She turned her head and screamed at Shawn, her features twisted.
"I'm a fraud! I really am a fraud!"
Shawn raised an eyebrow. He first cast spells to clear away the broken glass and heal Sybill's injuries, then asked in confusion.
"You all? Professor, has someone else questioned you about my prophecy? Who else did you tell about it besides Dumbledore?"
The fear in Trelawney's eyes deepened, tears and snot streaming down her face.
"No," she sobbed. "I didn't tell anyone except the Headmaster.
"The Headmaster was very polite when he questioned me. It was someone else, a person in black whose face I couldn't make out.
"He tortured me, casting all sorts of vicious spells on me, trying to extract the exact prophecy from my memories. It hurt so much. It hurt so much."
Shawn's eyes darkened further. Who could it have been?
He looked down at Trelawney's wretched state. She was a wreck now, probably incapable of even teaching a normal class.
Shawn sighed inwardly. As always, he had to rely on himself.
Old Percy's alchemical experiments should be nearing completion, which would bring him another step closer to deciphering the prophecy in the "Art of Abraham."
In truth, with some of the knowledge he now possessed,