March 24th, 1888 — Hufflepuff Common Room

If her reading was correct, she was about to receive some sort of windfall—had she family to leave her much of anything, Blythe might have actually believed this to be possible, but instead the Divination student found herself second- and third-guessing her reading with a sigh. The course had proven neither easy nor easy to properly fake her way through, and with OWLs looming far closer than the fifth year was ready to admit, she was beginning to lose hope.

Another sigh left her, this one louder than the first, as the fifth year reluctantly turned to another student studying for themselves, angling her teacup that they might see the leaves at its bottom.

“Pardon me,” Blythe asked softly, “but what does this look like to you?”

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Divination was one of the least methodical of Frida's classes, and most definitely the least certain of her electives! She'd managed to scrape by for the past two years getting mostly 'A's and the occasional 'E' on her weekly assignments, but by and large considered it one of the poorer choices she'd made since beginning school.

She had every intention of closing her symbolism textbook and tossing the fragile teacup into the fireplace, but was jogged out of her silent frustration by another girl's question.

"Oh," she prompted, taking a look into the teacup. "It - uh - looks like a worm. I think it means scandal?" she questioned before beginning to once more flip through her book's pages.

  

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Scandal. That seemed even less likely than a windfall—imagine! Blythe, caught up in some sort of scandal! Still, at least Miss Lestrange typically did better in the exasperating course than Blythe herself. The Hufflepuff supposed she should at least try to give the other badger’s reading of the leaves some measure of consideration.

“Goodness, I should hope not!” she exclaimed. “But I suppose it would be preferable to a death by giant squid—it looks a bit like tentacles around about the edges, if you look closely enough. I don’t suppose they’ll let us stick to dreams and cards during our OWLs, will they?”

Both were much clearer sources of symbolism, devices Blythe could actually understand.

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OWL examinations were a long way off for Frida, and the mention of having to take one for Divination was enough to quicken her heart rate. She already suffered when they were given assignments to 'decode dreams' or 'crack the crystal ball's message', but they were always minor; examinations, however, would show just how awful she was.

"I hope so. I think Professor Carmichael has better sense than to focus on just one method of Divination," she reassured, in part for her own comfort. Glancing through her book, she stopped on page. "I honestly have little clue where diviners got such outlandish meanings from simple images. A leaf for good fortune? If that were true, I should have good luck every time I walked into the courtyard," she huffed.

  

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“Professor Carmichael has very little say in the matter, though,” the fifth year pointed out sensibly. “After all, we would not need external examiners otherwise.”

For someone on the cusp of taking what were almost certainly the most important tests of her life, Blythe knew startlingly little about how they were carried out but, thanks to gossip from older students, had sussed out at least that much in her four and a half years at the castle.

“I do agree, though,” she added sympathetically, “a great deal of it seems to be nonsense.”

She had taken the course in the hopes that it would make God’s messages to her clearer, but all the lessons had done was muddle things further. Whether she was back for a sixth year or not, Blythe was quite certain she would not be taking divination again!

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Frida frowned at the fifth year's response. It was true that it was up to the Wizarding Examinations Authority to decide the contents of their OWLs, but it seemed silly that they wouldn't at least confer with Professor Carmichael on the subject matter. At the very least, the professor would know what to review with them prior to their exam day!

Not that she had to worry about that for a while.

"Well I'm sure he knows what will be on the exams," she resigned with a huff, closing her book. As a Hufflepuff and a Lestrange, Frida felt the need to be good at everything to make up for her shortcomings. None of her family members — not Kristoffer, not Seneca, not Gretchen — could call her a daft badger if she did well on everything, but simply struggling with certain subjects lowered her self-esteem immensely.

Speaking of subjects... "What classes do you take, Miss Fairchild?" That was her name, wasn't it? She was from the weird family that was apart of that weird religion. "You're in my Ancient Runes class, are you not?"

  

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"I-I am," Blythe confirmed, rather taken aback by the question. She did not know whether to be puzzled that Miss Lestrange was taking an interest, or offended that she had not noticed after a year in the same courses. After a moment's consideration, the Hufflepuff decided firmly on the former; after all, why should any of the Misses Lestrange take note of her? Blood lineage aside, nothing about Blythe had ever been particularly remarkable, and in spite of the fact that their own heritage would make them well-suited to it, she had not seen any of their faces in church before.

"Just those two, mind—I-I didn't wish to overextend myself academically. Some are gifted students are blessed in that regard, but the rest of us are merely average!"

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Frida looked up suddenly at the elder girl, fearing that she'd caused offense.

"Oh no, that's not what I meant," she insisted with a smile. "I only meant to ask if you were skilled in that subject; you're older the myself and it's another elective I'm unfortunately struggling in. My family—" Family mostly meaning Seneca, who she never wanted to give a reason to talk down to her. "—expects more than average. I'm sure there's something I could help you with in return."

  

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Miss Lestrange wanted Blythe’s help? The Hufflepuff was not certain what she had been expecting, but it most assuredly was not this! She cast a puzzled glance at the younger girl.

“I’m no prodigy,” she returned modestly, “but I do understand the materials we have been presented with so far. I am,” Blythe added with a small modicum of humour, “decidedly better at it than I am at Divination.”

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Understanding the subject was one thing, but being able to use that understanding to produce more work was what Frida worried about, and what she specifically struggled with. Miss Fairchild always seemed rather principled, but principled didn't always equate to talented. Nevertheless, anyone could be more helpful and cooperative than Seneca.

"Then you'll help me?" she prompted, a hopeful smile spreading on her lips.

  

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“I don’t see why not.”

The words left her after some hesitation, and even as she spoke them, Blythe was not entirely confident in the decision. Miss Lestrange, though, had thus far proved far nicer than the Hufflepuff might have expected, and it was a simple enough request. Besides, by aiding the younger girl, she might ingratiate herself—and that could pay dividends in future. At the very least, helping Miss Lestrange with her runes would help reinforce them for Blythe herself.

“Perhaps not today, though,” she added apologetically, “as I really must get a grip on these tea leaves!”

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With Miss Fairchild's commitment, Frida smiled and leaned back in her seat. Perhaps she wouldn't be falling her upcoming exams,  even if they didn't matter as much as OWLs.

"I suppose Divination is something we should both be worrying about," she agreed, sitting back and grabbing her own teacup once more. Perhaps she would no longer need Seneca's help — and that was a freedom she needed.

  

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