Two days after Professor Sybill was sacked, the Fifth Years had the class, and as usual, Umbridge had come to sit on the class since she wanted to expel their new teacher too. Though, their new teacher wasn’t teaching them. He was sitting near the window, reading a book, and from what Harry thought, most of his classmates would like to draw a portrait rather than disturb him.

*Hem*Hem*

Just not everyone shared that view.

*HEM*HEM*

*HEEM*HEEM*

“Silencio*

“Now you can clear your throat without disturbing the class.”

Harry glanced back at Umbridge, whose face was red, about to burst apart, chuckling under his breath much like his other classmate.

“I bet Hermione regrets not taking Divination now,” Parvati leaned forward, whispering, giggling.

Harry suppressed his smile, but he agreed with her; she did regret and was saying that yesterday. Though he liked every time Umbridge got taught a lesson, he wanted to study something in this class.

“Do you think he’ll teach something?” Dean whispered.

Lavender tilted her head, “I hope he doesn’t move an inch.”

“Ugh,” Ron raised his hand, and a good thing since Umbridge had freed herself of the spell, “Will you teach anything.”

Cloud closed the book of Divination that he had read once before and closed it “Who wants to study?”

Ron defiantly raised his hand, and one after the other so did more than half of the class and Harry. He wanted to study but didn’t want Cloud to get into trouble with Umbridge.

Cloud looked out of the window at the top of the astronomy tower, “I can’t send you to the ground to play ball?”

“How old does he think we are?” Dean whispered, audible enough for everyone to hear.

“Oh, well,” Cloud snapped his fingers, and they all found themselves in the darkness, huddled together, with dark mist rising from the ground. The loudest voice was Umbridge’s sudden shriek that scared everyone more than the darkness.

It wasn’t even as if they had little light; it was so dark that they couldn’t see their own hands or feel anything.

But while they were starting to get scared, they heard the voice, and a light shined on them, allowing them to see many pedestals around, but nothing on them, “Ok. Do you know anything about Divination?”

Parvati looked around the pedestals, raising her hand, “Yes! We see moons and stars to divine the future. Like Mars, it’s a sign of burns and accidents!”

“Yeah. What is that type of Divination called?”

“Astrology?” Parvati hastily answered before anyone else, and she found herself standing at the pedestal; in front of her was the starry sky, limited to an angle, making it look like she was looking through a funnel.

“What other type of Divination do you know?”

“With tea leaves?”

“Cards.”

“Crystal ball?”

Before they answered with more varieties, Cloud’s voice rang, “With tea leaves is called?”

“Tasseomancy,” Neville raised his hand, answering, and he got a pedestal too, with tea cups and leaves.

“Which is a part of?”

This time he didn’t get an answer, “Chloromancy. Form of Divination that uses plants and vegetables. Well…it stays with Neville.”

Neville looked ahead as a forest appeared beside the starry sky, marveling at it.

“Crystal Ball?”

“Crystallomancy!”

“Good,” and Dean got a pedestal, “It’s sister?”

“Abacomancy – uses patterns in dirt, sand, dust. They are part of?”

No answer again, “Geomancy – Form of Divination using Earth.”

“Fine, it seems I thought you’d know these things. So I’ll assign you the altars.”

“Aeromancy – future through atmospheric conditions.”

“Hydrmancy – water currents.”

“Pyromancy – Fire.”

“Necromancy – Using corpse as a conduit.”

“Numeromancy – Numbers.”

“Acultomancy – Needles.”

“Agalmatomancy – statues.”

“Aichnomancy – sharp objects.”

“Augury – Birds flight path.”

“Auramancy – Though auras.”

“Bibliomancy – Though books. Sacred ones.”

“Catoptromacy – Mirrors.”

He described more until the number of students in his class ran out, “Well, so no one feels left out.”

Umbridge felt her position change, and she squealed, realizing she was on a pedestal, with palms around her, “Palmistry.”

“Now, take a look around yourself, and tell me. What does this teach you?”

Everyone turned their eyes around, seeing so many ways you could use to predict the future, and Harry muttered, “That there are too many ways to see the future?”

“Ok.”

“And?”

“And that none of them work?” Ron guessed, but all he got was an ok.

“Who else?”

“How do we know which one is the right way?”

“Hm, that is for later…Parvati…?”

“Patil, sir!”

“Yes. First, answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

“That’s it’s all fraud,” Seamus muttered, “And Hermione was right? There is no point to Divination.”

Parvati gave Seamus an angry look, only to be disappointed when Cloud said, “And you are about 99.99 percent right. That’s the number of times you’d meet a fraud, but what about that 0.01% of the time…when the prediction is right, where does that come from?”

The answers came in a while and weren’t really what he expected.

“Fate?”

“Mistake?”

“Destiny?”

“If anyone of you said accident. I am going to throw you out,” Cloud snapped his fingers, breaking the illusion they were under.

They all covered their faces out of instinct but soon realized that their body was used to the light, but their minds weren’t, so they felt out of sorts.

Cloud stood up, went towards the teacher’s desk at the center of the room, and picked a paper stuck between the books. The paper flew to Harry, “What is this?”

Harry looked at the paper, and his friends sitting around him took a peak, and Ron realized, “It’s the homework…from last year?”

“Yes. Could you read to the class what Harry wrote? Ron?”

“Uh…” Ron took the paper, standing up, “It’s…future prediction of what would happen that week? So on Monday…he wrote.”

He cleared his throat, copying Harry, “I will be in danger of burns.”

“On Tuesday, I will lose a treasured possession?”

“On Wednesday, I think I’ll get worse in a fight.”

“On Thursday—”

Cloud sat down, “Go back to Monday and read the predictions of Monday to Wednesday again.”

Ron looked up, curling his lips, “On Monday…I will be in danger of burns.”

“On Tuesday…I will lose a treasured possession.”

“On Wednesday—”

Ron was reading when Harry snatched the paper away, reading it to himself, inside his mind, silently, again, and again.

“Hey mate, what are you doing?” Ron tried to take the page, but when he saw the look on Harry’s face, “You look like you have seen a ghost man.”

“It’s the Triwizard tournament! I predicted the Triwizard Tournament!”

The whole class burst into whispers, talking to each other, not understanding, looking at Harry with a weird gaze.

“Now. Mr. Potter,” Umbridge cleared her throat, speaking in a high-pitched voice, “Do not seek attention. Let the class continue.”

“No! I did! On Monday, I will be in danger of burns! The first task was against a Dragon!”

“Blimey! You are right! The second one was…Tuesday. I will lose a treasured possession!”

“The second task was to retrieve your partners!” Dean excitedly jumped on his feet, looking at the page.

“Then the third…you will come worse of in a fight,” Parvati covered her lips.

*Hem*Hem*

Umbridge cleared her throat, making her way from the crowd, snatching the page away. She ran her eyes over it, and it looked genuine, “This is absurd! You made this up!”

“Not really. Pretty sure that Ron here saw it, and a few members of their house would remember it at that time, and so would Sybill…I think,” Cloud jerked his head to the side, and the paper came out from Umbridge’s hand, falling into his.

He knew what the Wednesday would denote, and Umbridge would be offended for sure, but he continued, “Now then. If Harry could make this prediction…let’s say for now that he was right about two things from three. First and Second Task. And he wasn’t even trying…so what does it say about all the different methods?”

*Hem*HEM*

*He—”

Umbridge abruptly paused, and no sound came out of her mouth, making other students look between her and Cloud.

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s in an illusion where she’s enjoying making my life hell. Anyway, let’s continue. I asked you…what does it say about all these methods?”

“They are…unnecessary, sir,” Parvati said in a trailing voice, blinking as she looked between Cloud and Umbridge.

“If they are unnecessary, then who is the one making predictions? Stars? Moon? Sun? Quill? Paper?”

“Us,” Harry said before he could continue, “We…are the ones making predictions.”

Cloud nodded at him, “Good, now, if I am not wrong. One of you asked me which method was right?”

“Yes, me. Sorry, sir,” Parvati apologized.

“No. Yours is the right question, well…almost,” Cloud shook his head, “The accurate one would be…which method is right for you.”

“If you don’t have that talent, then you can’t divine, no matter which method you try. If you have a tinge of luck…you could divine your future when doing your homework. The part that these methods play aren’t in accuracy, but…to make sure you don’t end up like Harry, predicting something so important, yet being oblivious to it.”

Harry scratched his head while his classmates laughed and marveled at him. He could see the strangeness in their eyes, but mainly, “I wasn’t wrong.”

“I know, don’t worry about it. She’ll…well, not that any of your DADA teachers lasted more than a year. So what can we predict from that?”

“This one will pass over?” Lavender giggled.

“Right. For your homework, try to work with other ways and see if there is any that suits you more. Try predicting a few things, and we’ll see if they come true.”

“Yes, sir!”

When the class ended, Cloud was the first to leave, and Umbridge woke up from her illusion, walking out with a happy face, not realizing that others were laughing at her when she left.

As for Cloud, he got control of his body back from Genesis, who enjoyed teaching the class, “You speak more than I do in a month…I am starting to feel dehydrated.”

“But thank you for taking it off my hand.”

“Anytime…I find it…enjoyable.”

“Sure you do,” Cloud muttered, making his way to his office; after his first class here, most days passed in a daze. With classes, hospital, and being there on time when Yelena went and came from school, and days when he found to spend alone with Tifa or Aerith.

Though not everything was going well, what was to come came, and so one night, a loud knock, almost a bang, awakened him and Yelena.

“Papa…” Yelena muttered, half asleep, and it startled Cloud, who only woke up.

He didn’t have the time to make sense of that, but he covered her in a blanket, “It’s nothing…sleep.”

He walked to the door, opening it slightly to find Professor McGonagall outside, hiding the panic n her eyes, “It’s bad. Come with me.”

Cloud glanced towards the bracelet and keychain, and it changed to that of an hourglass, red in color, and his clothes changed.

“Ok.”

He already had an idea of what it was, not because he predicted it, which was the answer he gave others when they asked how he found his homework submission of Harry. In reality, he only asked Echo if Divination could be done other than the Time Stone.

She cited this as an example, which made him even try to find it. This time he knew because Aerith told him, but he didn’t think he could do anything about it, so he planned to let Dumbledore take care of it.

Now it seemed he was going to get pulled into it after all. He walked after her, who noticed his clothes had changed halfway through, and while surprised, it washed over her with sheer worry.

“Did you know?”

“Yes.”

“You should have stopped them!”

“Not my place to,” Cloud said, “Professor must have known as well. Harry told Sirius.”

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips, and Cloud sighed, “Don’t worry. It’ll be ok.”

“How will it be ok? The Minister of Magic is in Headmaster’s room. And he won’t stop! He wants a head on a silver platter!”

Cloud didn’t say anything; he silently followed after her until they reached Dumbledore’s office. When he entered the room, it was guarded by two wizards, one he knew as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the other he had no idea about. Other than them, there was Fudge, and Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, waiting. He also saw Percy hiding around the corner, noting everything down on a pad.

Dumbledore nodded towards Cloud, who nodded back, waiting until Umbridge pulled, bringing Harry to the room, making him sit at the center.

Fudge watched him in satisfaction, “Well, well, well.”

“He was heading to the Gryffindor Tower. Malfoy boy cornered him,” Umbridge said.

“Did he? I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter…I expect you know why you are here?”

Cloud’s eyes were on Harry too, seeing the defiant expression in his eyes, when he noticed Dumbledore write something down while gesturing to Harry.

‘Say No,’ Cloud telepathically said to Harry while thinking about how Dumbledore knew he would be able to read even though he was standing against the wall.

“No,” Harry darted his eyes between Cloud and Dumbledore.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No,” He said firmly.

“You don’t know why you are here?”

“No, I don’t. All I know is that Malfoy attacked me, and rather than punishing him, Professor Umbridge brought me here!”

Fudge widened his eyes, “You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?”

“I know Malfoy has.”

“Ministry Decree?”

“I don’t know, but I am sure he did.”

Harry’s heart was hammering, but he repeated the words Cloud said in his mind.

“So it’s news that an Illegal Student Organization has been discovered?!”

“It has? Whose? Malfoy’s?”

“Stop bringing Malfoy!”

“I didn’t. She did.”

“I think, Minister. We might make better progress if I fetch our informant.”

“Yes, yes, do.”

“There is nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?”

“Nothing at all, Cornelius,” Dumbledore’s smile didn’t leave his lips, but Cloud could tell; his eyes were grave.

Cloud had little presence in the room, mainly, they had bigger fish to fry, and they could care little about someone like him, who said nothing.

They waited for a few minutes, and Umbridge came back, with a curly-haired girl, from Ravenclaw. If he wasn’t wrong, then she was a friend of Harry’s girlfriend. Though she was hiding her face, Umbridge softly patted her back, encouraging her, “Don’t be scared, dear. Don’t be frightened. The Minister will tell your mother what a good girl you are.”

Umbridge looked up, adding, “Marietta’s mother, Minister. She’s Madam Edgecombe’s daughter – Edgecombe is helping us police Hogwarts fires, you know.”

“Jolly good, jolly good. Like mother, like daughter. Eh? Come on, dear, look up, don’t be shy. Let’s hear what you have got to – galloping gargoyles!”

Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes, but not before everyone saw the word Sneak written on her face, purple, swollen, and it was disfigured.

“Never mind the spots now, dear. Just take your robes away from your mouth—”

She stopped in the middle of her sentence, watching Cloud walk past her, patting the girl’s head, “Let me see.”

Marietta gave another muffled wail, shaking her head, but Cloud removed her hands from her face, raising her chin. While some didn’t have the guts to see it, he narrowed his eyes, “She’s a brilliant magician. It’s always a challenge.”

“DeSpell,” Cloud murmured under his breath, and the magic that covered her face started to come off.

Mariette touched her face, realizing it was all gone, and burst into happy tears, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, sir!”

Cloud nodded at her, “Did you tell Professor Umbridge something? Or did she cast this spell on you and tell you that only she could remove it?”

“W-What?! How dare you point the finger at me!”

“Well…it was an easy spell to remove, but you never removed it. It makes one wonder,” Cloud glanced at Mariette, raising her back, checking the back of her palm, and then lifting her robe to check her forearm.

He let her hand down, visibly disappointed, and then seemingly remembering something, raised the other, pulling her robe back, to see a carved sentence on her forearm, “Hm, and these marks of torture are another.”

Umbridge let out a sharp gasp, as surprised as the others, when Fudge panicked, asking, “What is the meaning of this? I told you last time not to dole out corporal punishment!”

“I-I-I did not!”

Dumbledore stood up, fuming, “Cornelius! Is this the witness you were talking about?! I warned you last time! This will not happen!”

“No! She did not!” Mariette said, and Cloud patted her head, “It’s ok. You don’t have to lie for her. She can’t touch you now.”

“Professor, I can’t trust what this girl has been saying. She might have been coerced, physically and emotionally. Lady Umbridge did say that her mother worked for her, right? If possible, I want to use Veritaserum.”

Dumbledore had hidden the sliver of a smile behind his white beard, but now that smile was gone, “Are you sure, Mr. Strife.”

“Yes. This one loves her mother, and she will do anything to protect her. I doubt we can expect her to tell the truth unless we use Veritaserum.”

Dumbledore rubbed his beard, darting his eyes between the two, “But only questions about this matter will be asked to her, and if you are good with that, Cornelius, it’s up to you.”

Mariette trembled in fear, and even though the teacher standing beside her was pushing her off the cliff, she only felt safe in his arms.

Cornelius was now unsure if he should or was Umbridge extra motivated and did something that would land him in trouble. Still, Umbridge seemed confident, too confident, and he decided to trust her. He gave permission, and Dumbledore talked to one of the old headmasters in the portrait, who informed Professor Snape. And then, they had to wait again for Professor Snape.