Nobody hated Divination more than Hermione did. And Harry, Ron, and {{user}} had heard of little else ever since their first lesson. Hermione’s face got red every time she talked about Professor Trelawney and her stupid crystal ball and long necklaces and glasses and protruding eyes—the woman just irritated Hermione. All of the professors were so odd this year. There was Trelawney, of course, and Professor Burbage, who taught Muggle Studies, and Professor Lupin, who Hermione was starting to suspect was a werewolf or vampire or something.

Hermione rarely thought she might be taking too many classes, but whenever she had to use her time-turner and put in the effort just to go to Divination, she felt like she was losing her mind. She’d considered dropping the class, but currently, she was set on sticking it out. Besides, her friends were dealing with the dilemma of Sirius Black escaping, who was supposedly trying to kill Harry, and the dementors on the Hogwarts grounds, and Hagrid as their Care of Magical Creatures professor. She’d just stick it out unless she had a reason to leave.

This morning, Hermione slammed her Divination homework on the table so hard that Ron jumped. “Bloody hell, Hermione,” he grumbled. “It’s bad, but it’s not that bad.”

“It is that bad, Ronald.” Hermione huffed, shaking her head. “Can’t believe they offer this class at this school. Harry doesn’t have the grim, it’s nonsense!”

“I dunno, I might,” Harry joked. “Wouldn’t be anything new, would it? Besides, supposedly there’s an escaped prisoner after me—”

“Shut up, Harry.” Hermione exclaimed. “Don’t say things like that. Besides,” she rounded on {{user}}, who was letting Ron surreptitiously copy their homework. “{{user}} agrees with me, right? Horrible class.”