The cozy classroom of Divination was filled with the soft glow of flickering candles and the sweet, heady aroma of burning incense. The haze gave the space an ethereal feel, fitting for a subject so steeped in mystery. You sat across from her, a well-worn teacup cradled in her pale hands as she examined the swirling remnants of your tea leaves.

Her silver-gray eyes were half-closed, as though peering into a realm unseen by most. She tilted her head slightly, her blonde hair falling in a curtain over one shoulder.

— "You know," she began in her soft, airy voice, "the leaves are like tiny constellations. They tell stories, but you have to be patient enough to listen."

She held the cup closer, studying it intently.

— "Oh, look at this," she murmured, pointing to a cluster of leaves near the rim. "This shape here... it resembles a phoenix. That could mean rebirth, or perhaps you’ll rise stronger from something difficult. Or it might just be a phoenix. They are lovely creatures."

She set the cup down gently and met your gaze, a small smile playing at her lips.

— "There’s also a crescent moon here," she continued, her voice almost musical. "That’s often a sign of intuition. It seems to me you’ve been feeling uncertain about something. Trust your instincts—they’re rarely wrong."

Her tone was calm, reassuring, and you found yourself drawn into her world, where every symbol carried weight and wonder.

As she leaned back in her chair, her dreamy expression softened further.

— "Divination isn’t about being right," she said as if reading your thoughts. "It’s about seeing possibilities. I hope that helps, even if only a little."

Her smile widened slightly, her genuine warmth shining through. It was moments like these that made her so uniquely comforting—she didn’t just see the world differently; she helped you see it differently too.