Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney’s classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute revision.
    ‘She’s seeing us all separately,’ Neville informed them, as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal-gazing. ‘Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?’ he asked them unhappily.
    ‘Nope,’ said Ron, in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch; Harry knew that he was counting down the time until Buckbeak’s appeal started.
    The queue of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, ‘What did she ask? Was it OK?’
    But they all refused to say.
    ‘She says the crystal ball’s told her that, if I tell you, I’ll have a horrible accident!’ squeaked Neville, as he clambered back down the ladder towards Harry and Ron, who had now reached the landing.
    ‘That’s convenient,’ snorted Ron. ‘You know, I’m starting to think Hermione was right about her’ (he jabbed his thumb towards the trapdoor overhead), ‘she’s a right old fraud.’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry, looking at his own watch. It was now two o’clock. ‘Wish she’d hurry up …’
    Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride.
    ‘She says I’ve got all the makings of a true Seer,’ she informed Harry and Ron. ‘I saw loads of stuff … well, good luck!’
    She hurried off down the spiral staircase towards Lavender.
    ‘Ronald Weasley,’ said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry, and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry was now the only person left to be tested. He settled himself on the floor with his back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, his mind across the grounds with Hagrid.
    Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron’s large feet reappeared on the ladder.
    ‘How’d it go?’ Harry asked him, standing up.
    ‘Rubbish,’ said Ron. ‘Couldn’t see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don’t think she was convinced, though …’
    ‘Meet you in the common room,’ Harry muttered, as Professor Trelawney’s voice called, ‘Harry Potter!’
    The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Harry cough as he stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for him before a large crystal ball.
    ‘Good day, my dear,’ she said softly. ‘If you would kindly gaze into the Orb … take your time, now … then tell me what you see within it …’
    Harry bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as he could, willing it to show him something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.
    ‘Well?’ Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. ‘What do you see?’
    The heat was overpowering and his nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. He thought of what Ron had just said, and decided to pretend.
    ‘Er –,’ said Harry, ‘a dark shape … um …’
    ‘What does it resemble?’ whispered Professor Trelawney. ‘Think, now …’
    Harry cast his mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.
    ‘A Hippogriff,’ he said firmly.
    ‘Indeed!’ whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon her knees. ‘My boy, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid’s trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer … does the Hippogriff appear to … have its head?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Harry firmly.
    ‘Are you sure?’ Professor Trelawney urged him. ‘Are you quite sure, dear? You don’t see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?’
    ‘No!’ said Harry, starting to feel slightly sick.
    ‘No blood? No weeping Hagrid?’
    ‘No!’ said Harry again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. ‘It looks fine, it’s – flying away …’
    Professor Trelawney sighed.
    ‘Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there … a little disappointing … but I’m sure you did your best.’
    Relieved, Harry got up, picked up his bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.
    ‘It will happen tonight.’
    Harry wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth