𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗘, 𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗢 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗙𝗢𝗬
In which two star-crossed lovers
get their hearts dragged through
hell and back just to be together.
Olivia Mallard and Draco Malfoy.
they were made for destruction
and born to die.
...
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"Broaden your minds. You must look beyond. The art of crystal gazing is in the clearing of the inner eye. Only then can you see." Trelawney's voice couldn't have been more tiring to listen to than it was in that moment. Olivia was seriously regretting taking on this class as an elective. Well, she always was, but now even more so. "Try again," the woman added, her voice sounding almost pitiful.
Olivia stared at the crystal ball sitting on the table between her and Draco. There was nothing to see, and she was glad for that. She didn't want or need any more things clouding her mind. However, she still wished there was something, just for curiosity's sake.
Olivia looked up, and her eyes found the professor, trailing her as she walked over to Potter, Weasley, and Granger's table. "Now, what do we have here, hmm?" the woman asked, bringing Weasley out of his slumber. He and Potter sat up quickly, looking as if they'd been caught doing something they should have. Granger, on the other hand, looked rather bored.
"Oh, do you mind me trying?" Granger asked, putting on a smile.
Trelawney looked at her with glee, perhaps happy that someone was taking an interest in her teachings. "Ah, ah," she gasped, lifting her hand. Her gaze lingered on the Gryffindor girl for a moment longer before both of them focused on the crystal ball.
Granger stared at the professor after her quick glance at the topic at hand. "The Grim..." The girl paused when the thick-lensed, glasses-wearing woman looked at her curiously. "Possibly," she added, grimacing at the theory.
Trelawney leaned in a little closer, and Olivia watched as Granger furrowed her brows, peering at the woman as if she had said something untruthful, despite her not having said anything at all. "My dear, from the first moment you stepped foot in my class, I sensed that you did not"—she grabbed the girl's hand, studying it—"possess the proper spirit for the noble art of Divination." The crazed-haired woman continued to study Granger's palm, and Olivia watched from afar, stifling a laugh at the words. "No, you see,"—she pointed at a spot on Granger's palm—"there?" Her voice sounded full of dread. "Ah, you may be young in years, but the heart that beats beneath your bosom is as shriveled as an old maid's."
