“Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him

“Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him, McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall...”

The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, realizing too late that Professor Trelawney was standing

there alone.

“Hello,” said Luna politely to Professor Trelawney.

“Good evening, my dear,” said Professor Trelawney, focusing upon Luna with some difficulty. Harry could smell cooking sherry again. “I haven't seen you in my classes

lately...”

“No, I've got Firenze this year,” said Luna.

“Oh, of course,” said Professor Trelawney with an angry, drunken titter. “Or Dobbin, as I prefer to think of him. You would have thought, would you not, that now I

am returned to the school Professor Dumbledore might have got rid of the horse? But no... we share classes... It's an insult, frankly, an insult. Do you know...”

Professor Trelawney seemed too tipsy to have recognized Harry. Under cover of her furious criticisms of Firenze, Harry drew closer to Hermione and said, “Let me get

something straight. Are you planning to tell Ron that you interfered at Keeper tryouts?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“Do you really think I'd stoop that low?”

Harry looked at her shrewdly.

“Hermione, if you can ask out McLaggen—”

“There's a difference,” said Hermione with dignity. “I've got no plans to tell Ron anything about what might, or might not, have happened at Keeper tryouts.”

“Good,” said Harry fervently. “Because he'll just fall apart again, and we'll lose the next match —”

“Quidditch!” said Hermione angrily. “Is that all boys care about? Cormac hasn't asked me one single question about myself, no, I've just been treated to A Hundred

Great Saves Made by Cormac McLaggen non-stop ever since—oh no, here he comes!”

She moved so fast it was as though she had Disapparated; one moment she was there, the next, she had squeezed between two guffawing witches and vanished.

“Seen Hermione?” asked McLaggen, forcing his way through the throng a minute later.

“No, sorry,” said Harry, and he turned quickly to join in Luna's conversation, forgetting for a split second to whom she was talking.

“Harry Potter!” said Professor Trelawney in deep, vibrant tones, noticing him for the first time.

“Oh, hello,” said Harry unenthusiastically.

“My dear boy!” she said in a very carrying whisper. “The rumors! The stories! The Chosen One! Of course, I have known for a very long time... the omens were never

good, Harry... but why have you not returned to Divination? For you, of all people, the subject is of the utmost importance!”

“Ah, Sybill, we all think our subject's most important!” said a loud voice, and Slughorn appeared at Professor Trelawney's other side, his face very red, his velvet

hat a little askew, a glass of mead in one hand and an enormous mince pie in the other. “But I don't think I've ever known such a natural at Potions!” said Slughorn,

regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. “Instinctive, you know—like his mother! I've only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that,

Sybill—why even Severus —”