Hermione reluctantly went to the divination class, from the very first lesson she considered it all incredible nonsense.

Now, sitting at her desk, she stared into Professor Trelawney's huge eyes behind round glasses.

“My dear, from the moment you first arrived in my class, I sensed that you did not possess the proper spirit for the noble art of Divination. You may be young in years, but the heart that beats beneath your bosom is as shriveled as an old maid's, your soul as dry as the pages of the books to which you so desperately cleave.” the old, crazy lady spoke.

Stung, Hermione starts to reply, but —remarkably— seems incapable of a single word.

Rising gracelessly, she exits, knocking her crystal ball to the floor, letting it roll slowly out the doorway.