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Looking at the strange atmosphere in the classroom—
Professor McGonagall sighed helplessly.
Regarding Professor Trelawney's almost obsessive, desperate need to prove herself—other professors had complaints too. She asked bluntly:
"So, tell me."
"Who's going to die this year?"
"If nothing unexpected happens..."
Ron stared blankly at the classroom door. Answered unconsciously. "Probably Professor Trelawney..."
Hermione and Tiger hadn't returned yet.
So compared to Harry's death prophecy, he believed more in what was about to happen—or had already happened.
Slytherin girls nodded in unison. Showed unanimous agreement.
Though this beast hadn't caught on yet—
His special treatment of Hermione was obvious. And Hermione's little thoughts, from Pansy and others' perspective, couldn't be clearer.
No girl stays calm when her romantic fantasies shatter.
Daphne even admired the chipmunk's courage.
If it were her, she'd never dare stand up angrily to argue with Professor Trelawney. Of course, also wouldn't dare grab that beast's sleeve, eyes silently reddening...
Honestly—
They didn't even dare approach that beast.
Therefore, Slytherin girls all held some shipping hopes. They desperately wanted to see what the beast looked like after falling into love's trap.
When Tiger chose to stay in the Divination classroom, they'd already sensed what was coming.
"What?!"
Professor McGonagall frowned in surprise. Her gaze landed on the empty seats in the classroom. An imperceptible headache crept up her temples.
Fortunately—
Tiger was pulled into the Transfiguration classroom by Hermione. Behind them followed the pale-faced Professor Trelawney.
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall."
"We're late."
"Um..."
Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall somewhat guiltily. Lips pressed tight. Didn't know how to explain.
"It was tutoring."
"Just tutoring."
Professor Trelawney quickly took over Hermione's words. Spoke in an almost urgent tone.
"Sorry to disturb you, Minerva."
"I'll head back now."
With that, under Tiger's satisfied gaze, she hurriedly left the classroom. Almost like fleeing.
Actually, she hadn't wanted to come.
Until Tiger asked the question again. Looked at her with especially expectant eyes...
"Please take your seats, Mr. Shelby, Miss Granger. Five points from Slytherin, five points to Gryffindor. I don't think I need to explain why..."
Professor McGonagall sighed helplessly. Her stern, dissatisfied gaze fell on Tiger.
Professor Trelawney's reaction just now—compared to a hostage, only lacked a rope...
"Now then, everyone."
"Stop thinking about Divination. Return your attention to the textbook."
With the sound of turning pages, Professor McGonagall pointed to words on the blackboard. Expression calm:
"Last year, we explored together the wonderful field of transforming matter into life."
"This year, Transfiguration's difficulty will rise again. We'll enter a completely new stage. Recognize the bidirectional connection between life and matter..."
Lunchtime.
The Great Hall was especially noisy. News about what happened in Divination class spread rapidly across the tables.
Upperclassmen were quite indifferent.
Just offered casual comfort.
They'd experienced the same thing. But as time passed, initial worries had long disappeared.
Yet in the wizarding world, belief in and awe of fatalism—couldn't be dispelled with a few comforting words.
Gryffindor students still couldn't let go. Some even ate suspiciously.
Especially regarding Harry's death prophecy.
As one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Ron's expression was full of anxiety and unease. He believed it completely. Seer bloodline had once flowed through the Weasley family. Prophecies coming true was perfectly normal to him.
Facing Ron's endless chatter, Harry felt helpless and amused. Until Hermione reached for the thick Divination textbook. Only then did Ron shut his mouth tight.
Compared to Gryffindor, laughter at the Slytherin table seemed especially relaxed and pleasant.
They did believe in prophecies.
But not blindly.
Especially after learning Tiger's question to Professor Trelawney—regarding this Seer's only surviving bloodline, the snakes felt some regret and contempt.
"Rather than hear her lecture on Divination—"
"Might as well chat with Centaurs."
Miss Pansy rolled her eyes irritably.
Centaurs, to her—
Were already filthy enough creatures.
Due to Professor Trelawney's interpretation, the pattern in her teacup left her dazed all morning.
"Parkinson."
"Never underestimate Seer bloodline."
"Even if she's a bit mad."
Gemma Farley picked up her napkin, dabbed her lips. Then slowly raised her eyelids. Swept meaningfully across Pansy and others.
Discussion and complaints stopped abruptly.
Tiger raised an eyebrow slightly. Looked at the prefect. Expression gradually grew serious.
Seemed—
This time he'd been shallow.
The Shelby family never denied their mistakes. Never evaded or covered up when facing facts.
Self-reflection was a good habit.
It kept Tiger from completely losing himself in power's intoxication. Though Tiger rarely self-reflected...
"Perhaps your expectations of her are too high. Elevated to a true Seer's level."
"But don't forget—she only has Seer bloodline. She's not a real Seer."
Gemma Farley's gaze fixed on Tiger. Red lips curved slightly at the corners. Her lazy, husky voice carried a hint of casual teasing.
However—
Tiger didn't feel his heartbeat accelerate. Instead pushed throat lozenges on the table toward the prefect.
This trick did work on him.
But only to the extent of finding it pleasant.
This kind of voice was a bit strange to him.
Gemma Farley's eye twitched. Shook her head helplessly with some self-mockery.
Really didn't understand what she was expecting.
Then she shifted her gaze. Looked at Pansy and others. She couldn't stare at this beast too long. Rationality would collapse anytime. She didn't like that feeling.
"Ordinary divination and a Seer's prophecy have fundamental differences. The Sight's vagueness and chaos make many of her words full of contradictions and logical flaws."
"But when fate comes true—"
"You'll discover her contradictory words are word-for-word related to fate. Yet vastly different."
Her pale fingertips tapped the table several times. Everyone's hearts tightened. Backs straightened.
"In short..."
"You can disbelieve. But never ignore. Divination's purpose isn't to let you foresee the future."
"Wake up, children."
"You don't even have Seer bloodline."
"All you need to do is learn to grasp keywords in prophecies. Avoid certain harm."
Speaking, Gemma Farley sighed lightly. Seemed to remember something. Her gaze gradually darkened.
"Reversing fate is hard. Don't always expect someone to lead you. He's not Merlin. Much less God."
The Slytherin table fell silent.
Fatalism from the wizarding world—like an invisible mountain—pressed on their shoulders again.
Regarding the prophecy about Voldemort and the Savior, pure-bloods knew far more than ordinary wizards.
Either must die at the hand of the other.
At least from current appearances...
The Savior was doomed.
Draco covered his face in despair.
He really wanted to grab Scarhead's collar. Ask this bastard what he'd been doing these two years!
If only Father were born in July.
Merlin...
"She's right."
"I'm not God. Not Merlin either..."
Just then—
An owl landed.
Tiger's tone paused. Took the envelope from the owl's beak. Unfolded it, scanned it. Then laughed softly.
He looked up at the surrounding snakes. His elegant, lazy smile carried a hint of ferocious arrogance.
"At least not yet."
The moment the words fell, Slytherin's eyes gradually brightened.
Do I really love him?
Gemma Farley's gaze fixed on Tiger in a daze. At least in this moment, she was certain—the brief intensity deep in her heart wasn't a love potion's illusion.
Because this damned little man—smiled with real charisma...
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