"Dear Sybill!" Professor Albus Dumbledore's calm voice drifted from inside the office, though though a hint of strain edged his voice, as though he were restraining his temper. "I'm very sorry, but I do have another appointment shortly, so…"
"So that's why you're throwing me out of your office so rudely, Dumbledore?" the somewhat hysterical female voice shot back.
Astoria quickly recognized the speaker—Professor Sybill Trelawney, the Divination teacher.
"Of course not. I simply feel there's nothing more for us to discuss…" Dumbledore's tone grew slightly impatient.
"Very well! Very well!"
Professor Trelawney went on, sounding deeply aggrieved.
"If you refuse to dismiss that nag and insist on making him share the Divination class with me, so be it! I have been quite content at Hogwarts, but perhaps I shall find a school more capable of appreciating my talents…"
"I do not doubt that for a moment, Sybill…"
"That wretched nag! I even suspect that the bottle of mead I drank last time was poisoned by him… He wants me out of Hogwarts, out of my classroom, so he can mislead my students!"
"Sybill, that was merely an accident. It had nothing to do with Firenze—I can swear to that!" Dumbledore raised his voice, several notes of impatience now unmistakable.
"Those poor children… deceived by a creature who doesn't even understand what Divination truly is—misled by his lies, influenced by him… They've begun to turn against me…"
"That's enough, Sybill!" Dumbledore seemed genuinely angry now.
"Just like what happened in that room—they threw me out, hurled my own sherry bottles at me… and they even cheered, celebrating such appalling behavior…" Professor Trelawney continued complaining, completely oblivious to the Headmaster's anger.
"What—what did you just say?" Dumbledore's tone changed at once, his anger vanishing instantly. "Sybill, you said someone threw you out. Where?"
"I—well!"
Professor Trelawney replied, pulling her shawl more tightly around herself, a touch wary now.
"I was walking alone, contemplating certain ominous signs I had happened to glimpse… I reached the room on the eighth floor where things are hidden—the tapestry of trolls dancing on the right, the smooth stone wall on the left—I don't know whether you're familiar with the place, Headmaster… I suddenly remembered I had hidden some bottles of sherry in there, and I intended to retrieve them. But the moment I opened the door, several students threw me out headfirst—extremely rough, utterly ill-mannered… They even cheered inside, applauding their disgraceful conduct!"
A brief silence settled over the Headmaster's Office.
"I will investigate this thoroughly, Sybill," Dumbledore said calmly. "I will find those who were so discourteous to you."
"Thank you very much, Headmaster!" Professor Trelawney said stiffly, adjusting her shawl and the many strings of glittering beads around her neck. "Though if I were to make a small prophecy, I could easily identify them. It is only that prophecy ought not to concern itself with such mundane affairs…"
"I understand you, Sybill," Dumbledore said, issuing his final dismissal. "But we truly have spent far too much time. If there is nothing else…"
Professor Trelawney straightened at once, looking thoroughly affronted. "I will not cling to someone who shows me no respect, Dumbledore. Good day!"
...
Professor Trelawney swept out through the door and soon disappeared down the spiral staircase.
She didn't even notice Astoria standing just behind the door. As Astoria listened to her descending footsteps, she thought she heard her stumble, nearly falling.
Pressing her lips together to hold back a smile, Astoria stepped into the Headmaster's Office.
Albus Dumbledore, whose voice had just filled the room, was nowhere to be seen. In his seat sat the youthful face of Jon Hart.
"Close the door, please," Jon said, his voice heavy with thought.
"Is Professor Trelawney still upset about Professor Firenze?" Astoria did as she was told, then took a seat opposite the desk and asked softly.
"Yes. Very much so," Jon nodded.
"Divination has proven far more troublesome than I expected. I cannot allow Firenze to return to the forest—he was cast out. Nor can I let Trelawney leave; that would only put her in danger. Tom would be more than happy to capture a Hogwarts professor wandering outside the castle and use her as a hostage."
Astoria very much wanted to ask, Who is Tom?—but she held back.
"You're starting to look more and more like a Headmaster," she said with a smile.
"Yes, I quite agree!" came a sharp voice from the wall.
Astoria did not startle. Instead, she politely curtsied to the portrait that had spoken.
Headmaster Phineas Black responded with an elegant flourish of his hat, revealing his smooth bald head.
"Well then," Jon said, looking at Astoria with indulgent warmth, "what's troubling you today?"
"I wanted to ask about Golpalott's Third Law. I've never really understood it." Astoria took out her copy of Intermediate Potion-Making, her expression earnest. "Professor Slughorn said in yesterday's lesson that it's a key point for the O.W.L.s…"
"Golpalott's Third Law: the antidote to a mixed poison is greater than the sum of the antidotes to each of its individual components," Jon recited after a moment's thought.
"That means that even if we correctly identify a potion's ingredients using Scarpin's Revelaspell, our primary objective is not simply to select the antidote for each separate component. Instead, we must identify an additional ingredient—one that, through an almost alchemical process, transforms the disparate elements…"
Astoria carefully wrote down every word Jon said.
"And Gamp's Law of Transfiguration?" she continued.
After another brief pause to consider his phrasing, Jon began explaining again.
The two fell into an easy rhythm—one asking, the other answering. The portraits along the walls occasionally interjected with their own remarks. The office felt unexpectedly warm and harmonious.
...
Unnoticed, the clock on the wall struck eleven.
Fawkes gave a soft, languid cry.
Astoria stretched, then looked up and noticed the troubled expression on Jon's face.
"Is something important on your mind?" she asked with concern.
"Yes," Jon nodded. "Professor Trelawney unintentionally reminded me of something just now. Certain matters must be advanced sooner than planned."
"Then I'll head back first," Astoria said quickly.
"Mm. You should go. I have a few things to take care of as well," Jon replied calmly.