May 7th, 1895 — Divination Classroom, Hogwarts

The professor sat placidly, small frame fitting nicely on her side of the cramped table. A crystal ball sat on the tabletop between Dido Bloom and her pupil, but the tool was not for her, not today.

"Don't be nervous," she reassured. "Just do your best!"

With examinations on the horizon, Dido had devoted the month of May to revision in her classroom, both practical and theoretical. While her own class examination would not require a practical component, it was important for the third- and fourth-years to keep thier skills, such as they were, as sharp as possible. For the fifth years, the practical component of their Ordinary Wizarding Level necessitated the practice of their divination abilities. Today: the crystal ball.

As the students had paired off, their ordinarily nice, even number was down by one—one of the third years, Dido had been told in a shy whisper, was indisposed, and the witch had known with a sudden certainty, as well as she knew her own name, that the girl was indeed suffering her first monthly cycle. Rather than the awkwardness of a group of three, Dido had volunteered herself to partner with the odd student out, not realizing at the time—or, indeed, now—that this bore its own brand of awkwardness as well.

Her smile was an encouraging one as she waited for her pupil to begin, doing her best not to allow the somewhat stilted, quiet conversation around them to distract her.

Invitational to one Divination OWL student!
Eros Mohr Bonnie Greyback Lucy Tatting Wren Burroughs Harriet Bythesea Antelope Grace Cadogan Glynn

  

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mj makes such pretty things!

Wren had always been utterly and truly awful at Divination. She only continued on in the class because willingly dropping out of it would mean that she had a lack of initiative. Plus, all her friends thought it was fascinating when she pulled out the tarot cards even if Wren nearly always failed to recall their meanings. That was the bonus of none of them being Divination students.

The downside of that was that she was consistently paired up with random students in the class, which was mostly fine, if a little awkward. This time, though, she had looked up from her parchment doodles of crystal balls to realize she was without a partner.

Professor Bloom was kind, if odd, but having to decipher visions of the future in front of the professor was far more terrifying than it would be in front of one of the other girls. Mostly because Wren was almost certain that Professor Bloom would know that Wren was making up everything and that she rarely saw anything in crystal balls.

"Okay," Wren took a deep breath, trying to let the nerves wash over her. She wished she was actually good at this. Then she would've been able to see enough into the future to know not to come to class and embarrass herself.

"I see..." Wren peered into the crystal ball, trying not to let the frustration get to her, "I see...um, white clouds, maybe? Or snow?"

She looked nervously up from the ball to Professor Bloom.

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Thank you so much, Bee!

"Those are not the same thing, Miss Burroughs."

From another, the words might have sounded like an admonishment, but Dido's tone was warm, patient—almost as tentative as the young Hufflepuff herself—as she offered them. Though the professor had something of a reputation for... drifting, not being all there all of the time, she understood enough about her pupils to know that even the most confident student would feel uncomfortable paired with their teacher for such an activity. At least Miss Burroughs was made of stern enough stuff to shoulder the burden!

"Sometimes, it is a matter of shifing our eyes—not our gaze, but the depth to which we use it. Is the white you see cohesive, like a cloud, or more fractured, like snow flakes or a storm?"

Wren Burroughs

  

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mj makes such pretty things!

Wren looked away at Professor Bloom's words. The professor was right, after all, and it wasn't like Wren could really see either of those things, just white blurriness that might as well have been a reflection of something behind her. She stared deeper into the ball, hoping that something else would appear or that she'd be able to make a decision one way or another.

Wren hummed to herself as she blinked her eyes, trying to shift them as Professor Bloom had explained. It got her closer to the ball, but she still wasn't seeing anything. She tried again, imagining that she was a talented diviner. Divinationist? Whatever the word was.

"I believe it is more fractured?" Wren finally decided, looking up at Professor Bloom as if the future had a definite answer in store for her. Her tone was still hesitant, but at least she'd made up her mind on one thing.

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Thank you so much, Bee!

"And what does that mean?" she asked placidly.

Some people feared knowledge of the future, but Dido doubted very much there was anything Miss Burroughs could tell her—if, indeed, the Hufflepuff was successful—that was proved shocking. The professor knew, as well as her own name, that she would see her niece finish her time at Hogwarts, and that was plenty of certainty for her. Not even the Grim could have shaken her resolve on that front!

"Divination is not a precise art," Dido reminded the fourth year, "for those who do not possess the ability to See. But even then, using tools such as crystal balls does not come easily. Your aunt," she added offhandedly, as though remembering something suddenly, though she had no reason to possess this knowledge, "would be able to reassure you of that."

Wren Burroughs

  

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mj makes such pretty things!

"Snow," Wren said, more confident now that it seemed Professor Bloom was leading her in that direction. Given that summer was coming soon, she hadn't been sure that snow would be the right answer, but maybe it had something to do with the weather charm she'd learned a few months ago. "I learned about the atmospheric charm. Maybe it's going to be on my exams."

That seemed like as good of an answer as any, and since Wren had precious little talent for divination, she was willing to take very little information and spin it into a story. Besides, it would give her more of an excuse to use the charm, since her roommates hated when she would accidentally blow their parchment away.

She looked up from the crystal ball with a bit of a confused look on her face. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said, "You might have me confused with someone else. I don't have an aunt who can See."

Her mother's family were all Muggles, and the Burroughs family, although large, did not contain any Seers that Wren was aware of. Still, Professor Bloom had said it with such certainty that it startled Wren a little.

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Thank you so much, Bee!

The dissonance between what the young witch was saying and what Dido knew was jarring, as though someone had broken a teacup within her mind. Dido was taken aback, and was quiet for a very long moment as she unpicked the threads of what had just transpired. Sometimes, the world moved differently to the way she did—things were said before the were fully formed, or said but actually not said at all, or said thrice and only she noticed. It was... a distracting way to live, but Dido had made her peace with it.  Mostly.

She did not need to pick apart the words themselves, so instead the seer traced the threads of the belief that originated them. It was, she realized after a beat, a new belief, one she had no memory of holding prior to that day—prior even to that very hour. Thus, it seemed unlikely indeed that she was confusing Miss Burroughs for another student, but dreadfully inconvienent that Miss Burroughs seemed to think so—and even more so that Dido did not know anything more to firm up her claim. Drat!

"I am not usually incorrect," the witch said at last, "about this sort of thing." And indeed, Dido was certain she wasn't wrong, but I'm never wrong sounded altogether haughty and boastful and just a bit like something an ass would say, and was not typically well-received.

Had it been a few seconds or a few minutes? She was not always sure, but no one had gotten up to leave so it could not have been that long.

"You are certain, Miss Burroughs, that your father's sister is not a seer? The elder of the two," the witch added as though helpfully.

Wren Burroughs

  

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mj makes such pretty things!

Wren knew that Professor Bloom was odd, but she didn't think that she was this odd. Her silence left Wren wondering what was happening. Maybe it was a Divination thing? Whatever it was, Wren was wondering if she should have said something else, just nodded her head and passed it off as just something that was a little mistake. She wasn't sure if any of her classmates did have aunts that were seers.

"My father has more than two sisters, Professor." Wren said, "He's--he was--one of seven."

Sometimes it was difficult for her to remember that her father was gone. Being female, she had never been of much interest to him and so she had rarely seen him. Even if, factually, she knew that he was dead and had been for years now, it was hard to conceptualize, especially when she'd seen him, albeit in Boggart form, only a month ago. Having his family brought up was not something she was used to. People tended to walk on eggshells about that part of her life.

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Thank you so much, Bee!

Was. The word was a sharp reminder: Miss Burroughs had lost her father a few years previous. Dido made a point to learn as much as she could about her students—largely to avoid situations such as this one—and had known that very well up until a few minutes ago. Why, then, was her mind so adament that this was not the case, that the man who had furnished Wren Burroughs with half her essence was still very much alive?

To this, there was only one likely answer, and this middle of a class, with the Hufflepuff already on edge, was probably not the best time to voice it. And so, Dido slapped a serene smile on her face, and tucked this in a box in her mind, the box of things she really oughtn't know.

"Of course, Miss Burroughs; I-I must be confused. It is rather warm in here." Dido's laugh rang a bit hollow. "Please, my dear, do continue with your reading."

Wren Burroughs

  

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mj makes such pretty things!

Although Wren still thought the conversation was a little odd, she was grateful to move on. Even if that did mean that she was back to staring at a crystal ball that meant very little to her. She wondered how people had come up with it. Or who'd found the first thing. Was it hard to carve a ball from crystal?

Maybe she could ask her classmates, especially whichever one had a Seer for an aunt.

"Alright," Wren said, refocusing. It was difficult with her mind at work, but she looked into the ball. "Something green. Leaves, perhaps?"

She was still hesitant, but confident at least that she wasn't going to get anything absolutely wrong. And things could go back to normal, at least for now. She'd just have to think about it later.

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   Aldous Crouch

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Thank you so much, Bee!