"Finally back at the castle after three days."
For the past three days, I had attended a meeting to implement the new Quidditch rules, which were set to be applied during the World Cup.
Since it was the Christmas holidays, my absence didn't need to be justified, but when I returned home, I was shocked by how few people were still present—we were barely enough to fill a single table.
Apparently, I had arrived just in time for the Christmas feast, which was a relief since I was starving.
It felt quite special to sit at the same table as both students and teachers, with no regard for our usual roles.
Unfortunately, the banquet took a turn for the worse when the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, entered the room.
Wait, what's she talking about? Is this really the Divination teacher?
"I don't see how fate has anything to do with this."
Professor McGonagall is right.
Professor Trelawney looked outraged by Professor McGonagall's response, but she wasn't going to cause a scene during the meal. Instead, she took a chair that Dumbledore had conjured and sat down.
Dumbledore did his best to keep everyone in the Christmas spirit, and I must admit it was quite amusing to see Professor Snape wearing a red hat. It stood out awkwardly against all the black he usually wore.
At one point, Professor Trelawney made a remark about Professor Lupin, suggesting that he would no longer be with us by the end of the year.
"But from what you've just said, I can't assume he'll die. It could simply mean he won't be teaching anymore. He doesn't have to die to be out of the picture."
I had to intervene because I was tired of her interpreting everything so dramatically.
"So, Sybill, you finally decided to join us?"
"I hadn't planned to at first, but when I gazed into my crystal ball, I saw myself attending this banquet, so I couldn't refuse this fate."
"I can assure you, Sybill, that Professor Lupin is fine, and Professor Snape has given him his medicine."
"There is a whole pot at his disposal."
"If that's the case, then we have nothing to fear. It's possible that what you saw was, as Miss Longbottom said."
Honestly, I wonder how she can still be a teacher, considering it's clear she has no real talent and only tries to appear mysterious, like all the other so-called seers.
"Honestly, Hermione, why did you want to take this class?"
"Speak more quietly, Marie. I didn't know the teacher was going to be like this."
"You could have just asked us, and you would have had your answer. Now you're stuck with an uninteresting class."
I was worried that our whispers might be overheard by another teacher.
After the meal, Harry and Ron left while Hermione stayed behind to talk to Professor McGonagall about a suspicious Firebolt.
I decided to invite Hermione before practicing with Marie, and that's when the evening went downhill.
"Wait, which one of you stood up first?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because there were only thirteen of us, and thirteen is an unlucky number. The first person to stand up will die."
"I don't see how that matters unless an assassin is waiting outside the door."
Professor McGonagall is really on point today.
"Plus, if thirteen is such an unlucky number, I think you'd be attending a lot of funerals, considering there are more than thirteen students in your class. I've never heard of you reacting the same way when the thirteenth student stands up."
A critical argument—no way to refute it. Victory goes to Professor McGonagall and Evelyn against Trelawney.