The British Ministry of Magic claims that magical blood is dwindling in Pureblood families. This puts some students in awkward positions. Kris Averbach finds himself being dangled like a piece of meat in front of eligible Pureblood young ladies, but...
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Tristan was holding Kit's hand, studying it intently before looking up at the palmistry hand figure on the table, frowning, and then flipping through the pages of the textbook Divining the Future Through the Human Body: Palmistry, Phrenology, & More! They had started the year with palmistry, first determining which element their hand shapes corresponded to, then delving into the much more difficult area of mounts and plains. More recently they had started the interpretation of lines, and Tristan was clearly struggling with Kit's hand. After a while, Tristan let go of Kit's right hand and snatched up his left, staring at it with scrunched eyebrows.
"I don't know, mate," he sighed. "Your heart lines are weird. It says here that if it begins under the middle finger, you're going to be restless in your relationships. That's what it's like on your left hand. So you're gonna be a fuckboy." Kit rolled his eyes at him. "But then on your right hand, it starts under your index finger, so that's the opposite of being a fuckboy because it means you'll have a long relationship. But then there's these four pretty distinct little lines that cross through it. I have no clue what that means. Also the line is pretty deep, which is supposed to mean that relationships are important to you. So that contradicts the idea of you being a fuckboy, too."
"Quit sayin' fuckboy," Kit hissed at him.
"Well, I don't know what to write!" he complained. He turned in his seat. "Professor Avery?"
"Oh no," Kit mumbled, turning red as the Divination professor crossed the room toward their table. Professor Avery was not what you might typically expect of a Divination professor. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with biceps that nearly split the seam of his robe's sleeves every time he flexed. He had dark hair and dark, smoldering storm-colored eyes. He always wore black—even when spotted out in Hogsmeade, the professor would be wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt, and on a cold day, a black leather jacket. If he were a Muggle, he'd probably ride a motorcycle. Maybe he did anyway, Kit didn't know. The point was, Professor Avery was intimidating as hell.
He was also the real deal. More than once during class the professor had gone into a trance-like state, staring at nothing, unresponsive to anything going on around him, and intoning riddle-like sentences in a monotonous voice. It was seriously unnerving. Then he would snap out of it and proceed as if nothing had happened. If a student dared to bring up the fact that he made a prophecy, he scowled and refused to comment. They all quickly learned that their Divinations professor actually despised Divination. Why he was teaching it was anyone's guess. After getting chewed out for asking him about his prophecies, no one dared inquire anything more of the man.
"What is it, Parker?" Professor Avery said gruffly when he reached their table.
"I don't know how to interpret Kit's heart line," Tristan told him.
The professor sighed and held out his hand. Kit glared at Tristan before giving the professor his hand. The man studied it silently for what felt like ages. His palm began to sweat. Professor Avery dropped his hand and motioned for his other one, which he also studied in silence.
