“You think so?” Professor Trelawney seemed to consider the matter for a moment, but Harry could tell that she liked the idea of retelling her little adventure.
“I'm going to see him right now,” said Harry. “I've got a meeting with him. We could go together.”
“Oh, well, in that case,” said Professor Trelawney with a smile. She bent down, scooped up her sherry bottles and dumped them unceremoniously in a large blue and
white vase standing in a nearby niche.
“I miss having you in my classes, Harry,” she said soulfully, as they set off together. “You were never much of a Seer ... but you were a wonderful Object...”
Harry did not reply; he had loathed being the Object of Professor Trelawney's continual predictions of doom.
“I am afraid,” she went on, “that the nag—I'm sorry, the centaur—knows nothing of cartomancy. I asked him—one Seer to another—had he not, too, sensed the distant
vibrations of coming catastrophe? But he seemed to find me almost comical. Yes, comical!”
Her voice rose rather hysterically and Harry caught a powerful whiff of sherry even though the bottles had been left behind.
“Perhaps the horse has heard people say that I have not inherited my great-great-grandmother's gift. Those rumours have been bandied about by the jealous for years.
You know what I say to such people, Harry? Would Dumbledore have let me teach at this great school, put so much trust in me all these years, had I not proved myself to
him?”
Harry mumbled something indistinct.
“I well remember my first interview with Dumbledore,” went on Professor Trelawney, in throaty tones. “He was deeply impressed, of course, deeply impressed ... I was
staying at the Hog's Head, which I do not advise, incidentally—bed bugs, dear boy—but funds were low. Dumbledore did me the courtesy of calling upon me in my room at
the inn. He questioned me ... I must confess that, at first, I thought he seemed ill-disposed towards Divination ... and I remember I was starting to feel a little odd,
I had not eaten much that day ... but then ...”
And now Harry was paying attention properly for the first time, for he knew what had happened then: Professor Trelawney had made the prophecy that had altered the
course of his whole life, the prophecy about him and Voldemort.
“... but then we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!”
“What?”
“Yes, there was a commotion outside the door and it flew open, and there was that rather uncouth barman standing with Snape, who was waffling about having come the
wrong way up the stairs, although I'm afraid that I myself rather thought he had been apprehended eavesdropping on my interview with Dumbledore—you see, he himself was
seeking a job at the time, and no doubt hoped to pick up tips! Well, after that, you know, Dumbledore seemed much more disposed to give me a job, and I could not help
thinking, Harry, that it was because he appreciated the stark contrast between my own unassuming manners and quiet talent, compared to the pushing, thrusting young man
who was prepared to listen at keyholes—Harry, dear?”
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