Starting at Hogwarts, Logging into Elden Ring

Hermione quickly changed the subject.

"So if you’ve already mastered Animagus transformation... then the Zen Garden really can help me train mine?"

Arthur transmitted his reply with spirit-speech—his feline form unable to speak aloud.

"Of course. The Zen Garden can save you an enormous amount of time.

It just can’t refund any time you personally spend."

"That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to start!" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Arthur poured a bucket of reality over her enthusiasm.

"Don’t get excited yet. You still have to keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for a full month. Good luck enjoying that."

Hermione puffed her cheeks.

"Hmph! That’s nothing. I can handle it."

Her cousin always loved teasing her. Too mean!

She squeezed Arthur-cat even harder as revenge.

"Alright—enough. Put me down," Arthur protested.

"No! I haven’t hugged you nearly enough!"

Arthur struggled out of her arms and shifted back to human form before she could catch him again.

"Class. Now."

Hermione reluctantly followed him out of the Zen Garden.

Electives Begin

Third-years could pick three classes among Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Muggle Studies.

Originally, Hermione wanted to take all of them—after all, she now had a Time-Turner, and if she ever got tired she could replenish her stamina in the Zen Garden.

Arthur, however, stopped her.

He insisted she sample every course first before committing, to see which were truly worth her time.

Their first destination today: Trelawney’s Divination class.

Professor Sybill Trelawney—full name Sybill Patricia Trelawney—was a very interesting figure. Arthur whispered explanations to Hermione as they climbed the North Tower.

"In Greek myth," Arthur said, "the Sybils were prophetesses favored by Apollo. And our Trelawney here is the great-granddaughter of the real Cassandra—well, Cassandra Trelawney, not Troy’s Cassandra."

Hermione blinked. "So she really has prophetic blood?"

"Mm. Thin, but still there. Prophecy is tied to bloodlines. Voldemort inherited Parseltongue after all those generations of Slytherin.

Trelawney sometimes enters an unconscious trance where her predictions are real. But once she wakes, she forgets everything."

Arthur gave her a meaningful look.

"She’s the one who prophesied the identity of the Boy Who Lived during Voldemort’s prime."

Hermione stared with renewed curiosity.

Then Arthur added:

"This is the class I recommend you avoid the most."

"Because prophecy requires talent?" she guessed.

"That’s one reason. Divination isn’t like Arithmancy; there’s no logic, no rules—only tea leaves, crystal balls, and ’interpretation.’ For someone without the gift, it’s just staring at blurry shapes and inventing meaning."

He leaned in and whispered:

"And... Professor McGonagall can’t stand her."

Hermione instantly perked up at that—gossip detected.

Arthur continued via spirit-speech:

"Trelawney uses cold reading techniques—behavior observation, personality judgment, ambiguous wording. Her ’sudden prophecies’ work only because her students unconsciously fulfill them.

McGonagall sees right through her theatrics. If you pick this class, she might... sabotage you for your own good."

Hermione, had she been born in the East, would’ve recognized the pattern immediately.

This was textbook fortune-telling from street stalls.

Divination: A Practical Demonstration of Nonsense

Class began—and Trelawney did not disappoint.

She spotted Neville’s nervous fidgeting and intoned ominously,

"My dear boy... I sense tragedy in your very near future..."

Poor Neville nearly dropped the teacup—and then, predictably, did drop it.

Trelawney gasped in theatrical triumph.

She terrified the entire front row in similar fashion—Harry, Ron...

Hermione, sitting safely in the back thanks to Arthur, silently thanked every deity she knew.

By the end of the period, she had completely abandoned the idea of taking Divination.

She also dropped Muggle Studies shortly after—being raised by Muggles, she already knew everything the professor painfully explained, making the class a total waste of time.

A Quiet Stretch... Mostly

Time passed peacefully.

Worth noting: Rita Skeeter’s published interview turned out shockingly positive.

Either she wanted to curry favor with Arthur, or she had been thoroughly traumatized.

Her praise for Hermione was so exaggerated that longtime readers wondered openly if she’d been bribed.

Care of Magical Creatures

On Hagrid’s first lesson, he introduced the class to Buckbeak the Hippogriff—offspring of a male griffin and a mare.

Normally, a Hippogriff requires respectful bowing before one may approach or ride it.

Draco Malfoy, though reformed somewhat by Arthur’s influence, still couldn’t suppress his competitive streak when Harry was involved.

When Harry bowed first, Draco scoffed.

He refused to bow—and yet, to Hagrid’s shock, Buckbeak bowed first.

Draco shot Harry a smug look and sauntered back to the Slytherin group without even riding the creature.

Hagrid was baffled.

The reason was simple: after spending so long with his dragon Hydrea, Draco carried a faint trace of dragon’s aura.

Not as overwhelming as Arthur’s Ifrit, but enough to intimidate lower-threat magical beasts.

Harry was irritated, but it was Hagrid’s first day as teacher—he didn’t want to embarrass him, so he simply glared at Draco and let it go.

Defense Against the Dark Arts

Professor Lupin’s first class was even more interesting.

He brought out a Boggart—a shapeshifter that becomes whatever its viewer fears most, feeding on terror.

Fortunately, Boggarts are easily defeated with the Riddikulus charm—or even hearty laughter.

Neville was first. Lupin coaxed out his answer:

he feared Snape the most.

So Lupin told him to imagine Snape wearing his grandmother’s clothes.

When the wardrobe opened, a perfect Snape stepped out.

(Rumor says Snape once saw this memory in the Pensieve and nearly killed Lupin.)

Neville cast "Riddikulus!"

Snape’s robes morphed into an elderly lady’s outfit—red handbag, frilly scarf, and all.

The classroom exploded with laughter.

Arthur snapped a photo.

Later, Snape stormed into Arthur’s room demanding the photo’s destruction, threatening to sever their teacher-student bond.

Arthur refused, though he did solemnly promise never to show it to anyone else.

Snape could only seethe in silence.

Thus he went after the other culprits—Neville and Lupin—next.

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