Tap, tap, tap.
The soles of his boots made a soft, muffled sound against the plush carpet, like a serpent gliding through grass.
Professor Trelawney's mouth gaped open like a slack-jawed clam.
She watched Ethan draw nearer, step by step, her face a mask of pure terror.
It was as though she were staring at Death itself, strolling toward her with a grin.
"You—you're a demon in human skin... an utterly wicked soul!"
Professor Trelawney's voice cracked as she shrieked.
She scrambled backward desperately, her legs kicking futilely.
"The moment you entered, I saw it clearly—your future will bring unimaginable catastrophe to the world!!!"
Her cry reverberated through the stifling classroom.
Many students sat frozen in shock.
Hermione furrowed her brow deeply.
Without bothering to lower her voice, she challenged outright:
"As a professor, isn't it a bit excessive to say that about a student?"
Professor Trelawney whipped her head around.
Behind her thick, bottle-bottom lenses, her eyes bored into Hermione.
She replied in a quavering voice:
"Oh, forgive my frankness, child. I can see you have absolutely no gift for this subject."
"Your mind has been numbed by all those books. You simply can't grasp the depths of Divination."
Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief.
Then, rage flared up, turning her gaze fiery red!
She jumped to her feet, ready to grab Ethan and storm out with him.
But then she saw that Ethan was already standing right in front of Professor Trelawney.
Sunlight filtered in through the barred window.
It cast a glow on Ethan's benevolent smile.
Behind him, his shadow stretched long and ominous.
Hermione paused.
The scene carried an oddly unsettling vibe.
In that moment, it felt like a fiend was unveiling its true nature.
Ethan gazed down at the cowering Professor Trelawney on the floor.
He smiled warmly.
With a casual flick of his hand, he waved his wand.
He levitated the broken teacup from the ground, and with a sharp crack, pulverized the porcelain shards into fine dust mid-air.
Professor Trelawney recoiled.
It was as if she herself had been ground to bits.
Ethan: "I hear you come from a line of seers... but your inner eye is notoriously unreliable."
"Based on your reading of me,"
"I'd say you could use some serious practice."
?!?
Professor Trelawney's eyes bugged out.
She was livid.
"How dare you question—"
"But no need to fret."
Ethan cut her off smoothly, then grinned:
"I happen to know a thing or two about ancient divination myself."
"Now, let me help awaken your sight."
With that,
Ethan scooped up some of the ceramic powder.
He bent down and slowly extended a brush toward Professor Trelawney's forehead.
The brush tip, infused with magic,
gradually transformed into a deep, viscous crimson.
It gave off a metallic, rusty tang.
Trelawney's eyes crossed in panic.
She wanted to bolt.
But she couldn't get away.
Whether from sheer terror or some other force,
she was rooted in place.
She could only feel the chill liquid etching patterns across her forehead.
Her cheeks burned scarlet.
She looked on the verge of tears.
"There we go."
In just a few minutes,
Ethan retracted the brush and stood up straight.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, admiring his 'handiwork' with a pleased nod.
On Professor Trelawney's forehead,
a single [Eye] had been drawn in stark red.
Everyone gawked at the 'Third Eye.'
For some inexplicable reason,
even though it was a simple outline,
it radiated an unnervingly creepy aura.
As if
it weren't just an eye, but a portal to the netherworld!
[Name: Third Eye]
[Type: Conceptual Art]
[Grade: Tier 1 · White Rare]
[Description: An eye, a blood-red eye that does not belong here]
[Effect: Activates the user's prophetic talent, one-time magic. However, it consumes a large amount of energy as a price]
[Evaluation: I saw I would die in 10 years... Wait, why did the number change to 9?]
Aqua-blue subtitles materialized.
In the hush,
Ron whispered: "He said he'd open her inner eye, and he literally drew an 'eye'! What's that supposed to accomplish—"
Before he could finish,
a guttural, animalistic howl burst from Professor Trelawney's throat!
"Ahhh!!!"
She arched her back violently.
Her pupils expanded, nearly swallowing the whites of her eyes.
As if possessed,
she locked her gaze on the ceiling in this contorted, grotesque pose!
Ron slapped a hand over his mouth, jolted.
His eyes bulged in horror!
No way, this is for real?!
The next instant.
[Judgment shall descend at the end.]
Professor Trelawney's lips parted and closed.
Her voice was deep and ominous.
Utterly unlike her usual contrived, mystical drawl.
The students were dumbfounded.
In the classroom, a soft whimper shattered the quiet.
Only Ethan's lips quirked up in satisfaction.
His eyes gleamed with intrigue.
This was a genuine prophecy!
In the oppressive silence,
Professor Trelawney went on:
[Judgment shall descend at the end]
[When the dusty mansion is opened, when the treasure behind the painting is revealed]
[When a war that should not exist is won]
[When a three-eyed bird brings a branch, when the branch is forged into a sword]
[The horn of judgment shall tear through the sky!]
Professor Trelawney's pitch rose abruptly, sending chills down everyone's spine.
Shaking, she bellowed with desperate force:
[The evil soul shall destroy the hero in the eyes of the world—!!!]
The gravelly, rasping echo lingered in the classroom.
A few seconds later,
the blood-red 'Third Eye' on Professor Trelawney's forehead dissolved away.
Her pupils normalized.
She blinked, glancing down at the students with their gobsmacked '( Mouth ○ )' faces,
and asked bewilderedly: "What's the matter with all of you? You look like you've seen a ghost—" Before she could finish,
her eyes rolled back.
With a thud, she slumped to the floor, out cold.
She was completely drained.
After a brief lull,
whoosh!
All eyes snapped to Harry!!!
Dean Thomas from Gryffindor leaped up, jabbing a finger at Harry as he declared sharply:
"The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter—isn't that what the prophecy's last line means, [the hero in the eyes of the world]?!"
"The evil soul... it has to be the escaped Sirius!"
Dean shuddered.
His face drained of color.
He summed it up—
"Harry Potter is going to die at Sirius's hands!!!"
"Ahhh!!!"
As if signaled,
the students bolted from the classroom in a chaotic rush!
Tables and chairs toppled, teacups and crystal balls shattered on the floor, scattering across the carpet.
In mere moments,
the Divination classroom held only Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ethan.
Oh.
And the unconscious Professor Trelawney.
Harry sat rigid in his chair, his face pallid.
Suddenly, he surged to his feet in fury!
He hurled his textbook down, fuming:
"Fantastic! Last term, I was accused of unleashing the monster from Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets."
"This term, they've jumped straight to pronouncing my death sentence!"
Harry panted, chest heaving, his expression one of profound injustice.
Ethan: "Hmm, intriguing."
His eyes actually sparkled with a touch of envy.
Harry and his two friends:
Can't you read the room?!
Thanks to Ethan's interjection, the trio actually settled down a bit.
Hermione snatched a scrap of paper and jotted down the prophecy hastily.
"Dusty mansion? A war that shouldn't exist? Three-eyed bird? This is utter nonsense...!"
Ron eyed the words on the paper, his voice shaky.
He patted his best mate's shoulder, forcing a casual tone:
"If all those events have to line up for this 'judgment' to happen,"
"then I reckon it'll never come to pass!"
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