Chapter Text
Muggles Have Simplified the Prestigious Art of Divination.
Pairing: Harry Potter / Hermione Granger
Rating: K+
Rules:
“I am not allowed to sing, "We're Off to See the Wizard" while skipping off to the Headmaster's office.”
“I am not allowed to ask Dumbledore to show you the pointy hat trick.”
“I am not allowed to bring a Magic 8 Ball to Divination."
“Excuse me, Professor Trelawney?”
Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin line with almost supernatural effort, her shoulders tense, every fiber of her vibrating with the effort not to laugh. In dramatic fashion, the semi-drunk woman revealed yet again that Harry would die in the next twenty-four hours from “…a great mythical beast whose size dwarfed mountains, six-inch-long teeth sharp as goblin steel and despised powerful light wizards…”
“I thought you might like to see an instrument the Muggles have developed to help them perform Divination.”
“Muggles can't do Divination, my dear.”
“Pardon my saying so then, as I concur with your theory, professor, but Muggles have overcome this slight obstacle with a device called a Magic Eight Ball.”
Having pulled the toy from her bag beforehand, hiding it in her lap, Hermione rose from her chair, knelt, and held up the popular muggle toy in her hands like a gift from Merlin himself. Going through the spectacle, Hermione exaggerated, clearing her throat and making low, ominous noises from deep within her chest.
"Is Harry going to live until tomorrow?"
“Ms. Granger, please restrain yourself as you have yet to develop the Sight-”
Professor Trelawney’s surprisingly crisp, normal-sounding tone shocked many in the sweltering, hot, circular classroom. Still, Hermione ignored the slight insult (her disdain for the abstract theory of determining the future legendary), turned the device over, and showed the professor the answer.
"It is certain?! Let me ask, dear, what do I do with this answer?"
The slightly inebriated professor looked in wonderment at the small, black spherical device held outstretched in Hermione’s hands, and a frail, somewhat gnarly hand stretched out as if to take it from Hermione’s hands.
"It is rather simple, really. Hold the ball so the number eight faces you, ask your question, shake the device, and then turn the ball over. Since Muggles have difficulty using magic, they choose to go for simplicity in their conventional way."
Hermione watched through slightly narrowed eyes as Professor Trelawney took the muggle device as if it were a rare, powerful artifact instead of the cheap plastic it was. She repeatedly turned the toy over as she inspected every inch of it. Still in character, Hermione lowered her hands and waited on her knees as if for further instruction.
She didn’t have long to wait as Professor Trelawney coughed softly and spun her body in the crazy rituals she was known for. All of a sudden, the batty professor came to a stop and thrust the toy high in the air with both hands.
“Why will Mr. Potter…er…ahem ahem. I mean, how will Mr. Potter die?”
At Hermione’s slight cough, Professor Trelawney looked down her nose at the younger girl but still held the muggle toy high in the air. Hermione motioned for the professor to turn the device over, and Professor Trelawney did, a faint blush pushing through the many layers of makeup adorning her face.
“Concentrate and ask again? What devilry of future sight or fortune-seeing magic is this girl?”
When Trelawney glared down at Hermione and stepped forward, Hermione stood up as fast as she could and placed her hands over Trelawney’s. Her face stretching out into a silly little grin, Hermione tilted her head to the side, and her eyes widened with an innocent sparkle.
“Silly me. I am so forgetful at times, you know? Professor, you need to ask your question so the Magic Eight Ball can answer it in a yes or no format.”
"How clever. I must write to the Divination Counsel about this..."
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as Professor Trelawney’s focus returned to the muggle toy, enraptured with it once more, and Harry’s and her plan could still be enacted. Hermione pretended to take a dutiful step back and lowered her head slightly.
“May I, professor?”
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry’s question and saw that Harry had a grin stretching from ear to ear. He, too, found the whole ordeal amusing to see his professor so bemused by the toy that he had dropped a five-pound note for at Herods a few weeks ago.
“No! I mean, ahem, no, Mr. Potter. I shall write the letter.”
“Can Hermione and I pass this lesson since we provided you with the Magic Eight Ball?”
Hermione Professor Trelawney and many other students in the class jumped when Harry suddenly appeared beside the slightly drunk older woman. He gently pried the muggle toy from her grasp and shook the ball. Hermione knew something good had floated up to the screen when Harry smirked before adopting a shocked expression.
“It is decidedly so.”
Hermione didn’t know who the bigger sucker in the situation was. Professor Trelawney for foolishly believing in this outlandish farce or the rest of the students’ collective gasp when Harry showed them all the words floating on the display screen on the muggle toy.
"Oh, dear, oh me. You both need to see the Headmaster about this. Here is a note to give him."
Harry and Hermione managed to contain their laughter until they left the tower, hurried down the spiraling staircase, and turned the corner. The young couple and best friends clutched each other and laughed until tears streamed down their faces.
“So, Mione, what do you want to do with your sudden free period?”
“Well, we can’t go to the library as Madame Prince is still in a tizzy about the prank you pulled on Malfoy the other day, and all my other schoolwork is up in my dorm. I don’t know what to do for once as I didn’t plan on your far-fetched plan working.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and tapped her foot with her arms crossed underneath her breasts when Harry clutched a hand to his heart and gasped, horrified.
“Hermione, I’m hurt! I'm crushed! My self-esteem is at an all-time low. Kiss me quick before I collapse in total despair…”
Hermione grinned and stood on tiptoe to kiss Harry. They separated after a few minutes, and Hermione noticed that twinkle in Harry’s emerald eyes. Her eyes narrowed when Harry pretended to trip, but he righted himself and grinned devilishly at her as he hummed a famous tune.
"If I only had a brain..."
Hermione grinned and rolled her eyes. She took Harry’s offered elbow in between her hands and giggled as Harry danced down the corridor, still singing the famous song from the Wizard of Oz.
“We need to see the Headmaster before someone tells Trelawney the truth, Harry.”
“Oh yes. The most powerful...and wise Headmaster. Maybe we can get him to show us the pointy hat trick while we’re at it?”
Hermione laughed when Harry waggled his eyebrows and modified another line from The Wizard of Oz. The ridiculous mental image of the Headmaster giving a lesson on how his hats were always perfectly pointed had her laughing all over again.
Harry’s emerald eyes were positively twinkling with mischief and good humour. The resident Gryffindor bookworm gave an impish grin and raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
“Who happens to be a wizard?”
Harry’s grin widened, and he stopped dramatically while pointing to the corridor floor they were walking down.
“If you squint, these floor tiles have a yellow tint to them...”
Harry and Hermione shared a glance before linking arms and skipping down the corridor.
“Oh, we're off to see the Wizard...”
It was most unfortunate that Peeves was attracted to the sound the two of them were making, and rather than tormenting the young couple, he decided to adopt the catchy tune. He tortured the rest of the castle by singing that song for fifteen days straight, but it could have been worse if Harry and Hermione had decided to sing.
“It's a small world after all...”