Eda was still thinking about how to clean up the teaching staff. Someone like Quirrell, who was not only incompetent but also scheming, definitely couldn't be kept.
As for Trelawney, who was dragging down the overall education quality—her position also needed to be considered carefully.
After all, this subject was notoriously hard to recruit for.
Then there was the matter of a certain teacher being far too biased—this was something that needed to be resolutely eliminated and could not be tolerated. Such behavior, with a heart so tilted it might as well be under their armpit, set no example for the students.
After frightening the students and showing off her so-called "innate talent," Trelawney finally began the actual lesson. She instructed students to pair up, drink their tea until only the leaves were left, and then interpret the meanings hidden in the residue.
Fred and George filled three cups with tea and placed them back on the table. The tea was scalding hot, but Trelawney kept urging everyone to begin quickly.
The twins downed the hot tea in a few gulps, burning their tongues in the process, their expressions looking much like Garlon in the summer.
Eda, who wasn't cursed with an iron mouth, took her time blowing on her tea to cool it. She certainly had no interest in burning blisters into her mouth.
After finishing their tea, the twins followed instructions to swirl the remaining tea leaves, drain out the liquid, and then exchanged cups.
"What did you see in your tea cups?" Eda asked curiously. She was still gently swirling her own cup, looking more like a relaxed customer in a teahouse than a student attending a class.
"Other than a pile of soggy tea leaves, I didn't see anything!" Fred grumbled. He'd been staring at the cup so long, he was starting to forget what a normal cup looked like.
"I want to know—who the heck invented this nonsense? It's way too unreliable!" George was clearly dissatisfied with the class. The shapes in the tea leaves sometimes looked like a puppy, other times like a hat. It was giving him a headache.
Eda drank the last of the tea in her cup and gave it a swirl. She couldn't make out any shapes in the leaves either. With a smile, she said, "I think my inner eye is clouded—it can't see the future anymore."
The three of them burst out laughing. They had completely lost interest in this class. Trelawney drifted among the students, encouraging them to broaden their minds, to let their vision transcend the limits of the mundane—in other words, to let their imaginations run wild and make things up.
As long as you could predict death or misfortune from your tea leaves, you were, in Trelawney's eyes, a qualified Seer.
When Trelawney finally announced the end of class in her dreamy, muddled voice, the students in the classroom scrambled to leave. In this short lesson alone, half of the class had been predicted to encounter misfortune, and the rest feared that their turn would come any day.
A complete wipeout—no one spared.
Leaving the North Tower, Eda and the others made their way to the Great Hall. She was spooning stew onto her plate, looking like she intended to turn her frustration into appetite. Every third-year Gryffindor who had chosen Divination looked just like Eda right now.
For them, the first afternoon of the school year had been absolutely dreadful—one professor was timid and stammered, and the other was a neurotic drunk. In just one afternoon, they had encountered these two disasters, like a pair of bumbling strategists, and it was truly a stroke of bad luck.
Worse still, afternoons like this would continue for the rest of the school year.
Back when she'd first chosen Divination, Eda had fantasized about becoming a prophet one day—able to avoid misfortune and seize opportunity, commanding the battlefield from miles away with foresight and wisdom.
Unfortunately, reality quickly sobered Eda up.
If she wanted to train herself into a true Seer, it would probably take decades—maybe even longer.
Among the many magical disciplines, Divination was by far the least rigorous. The textbooks held little real value—they were merely summaries of past Seers' experiences, with very limited applicability.
Trelawney had even said herself, "There's only so much that books can teach you..." So cramming the textbook like in other subjects wouldn't help; at most, it could let you more easily interpret someone else's prophecies.
With no shortcuts, no guidance from a master, and no "inner eye" of her own, Eda couldn't expect to excel in Divination the way she did in her other classes. Still, she'd have no trouble passing the exams.
It all came down to talent, really. If Eda had been gifted like Cassandra Trelawney, she too could have mastered the art without a teacher and become a Seer admired by all.
On Tuesday afternoon, just after lunch, the students gathered outside the castle.
The weather was pleasant, with no rain in sight. The grass underfoot was springy and soft. They were heading to their very first Care of Magical Creatures class.
They followed the slope down and arrived at a clearing near the Forbidden Forest, where Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank was already waiting for them. She was an elderly witch with short-cropped, gray-white hair.
She also had a fondness for smoking, which reminded Eda of Glover Cecil.
Care of Magical Creatures was originally supposed to be taught by Professor Kettleburn. Despite having been placed on probation sixty-two times, he was still well-liked—a righteous and fun old man.
But Professor Kettleburn was getting on in years, and due to health reasons, he was temporarily unable to teach.
Still, the course couldn't be put on hold, which was why Professor Grubbly-Plank had stepped in.
It was said that Hagrid had also wanted to take over the class, but in the end, Dumbledore chose Grubbly-Plank. Fortunately, Dumbledore hadn't gone with Hagrid—otherwise, the students' very first class would have involved facing Hagrid's "precious babies," which would undoubtedly have been an unforgettable life experience.
"Come over here quickly, our first lesson is about to begin," called Professor Grubbly-Plank, waving to the students. She was standing on a patch of freshly turned earth.
As the students joined her on the muddy ground, Professor Grubbly-Plank said, "I can see some of you are nervous. Don't worry, the magical creature for our first class is very gentle. I promise every one of you will love it."
She opened a large crate beside her and pulled out a small cage. Inside was a creature covered in black fur, with a long snout. It looked a bit like a mole, and also a bit like a miniature platypus.
"Does anyone know what this little cutie is?" Professor Grubbly-Plank asked. "Just shout it out—we're outside, not in a classroom."
In moments like this, Eda would never fall behind. She called out loudly, "A Niffler, a burrowing creature native to Britain. They're attracted to all things shiny, like gold and jewelry. Nifflers usually live in burrows about twenty inches underground, and a litter typically contains six to eight babies."
While Eda was answering the question, Fred and George were whispering to each other. Fred murmured, "Don't you think Eda would be perfect for raising a Niffler?"
"Absolutely perfect. And I think Eda would pamper the Niffler with the best food and care, maybe even worship it," George whispered back behind Eda.
"Very good, two points to Gryffindor," said Professor Grubbly-Plank as she held the Niffler in her hands. "Goblins often use these adorable little creatures to dig for treasure. While Nifflers are gentle by nature, their incredible destructiveness makes them unsuitable as pets."
After giving a detailed explanation about Nifflers, Professor Grubbly-Plank had everyone pair up to receive a Niffler and dig for "treasure" in the patch of earth before them—that was the activity for today's class.
Eda cradled a Niffler in her arms and found that the little creature was indeed quite affectionate toward people.
It wasn't "fierce" like other magical creatures. It would have been perfect—well.. if only it didn't keep trying to raid her pockets.
Watching the Niffler burrow in and out of the soil in search of shiny, glittering objects, treasure-hungry Eda indeed began to entertain the idea of keeping a few Nifflers as pets. The Zouwu could wait for now—who could say no to such a cutie?
If she was ever short on money, she could take a Niffler out on a treasure hunt. With a Robin Hood Niffler in hand, who would bother going to all the trouble of opening a joke shop?
When class ended, Eda reluctantly returned the Niffler. She even asked Professor Grubbly-Plank about how much a Niffler would cost. Even on the walk back to the castle, she kept turning back every few steps, staring longingly at the box where the Nifflers were being kept.
Originally, the first Care of Magical Creatures class was going to feature Bowtruckles or Fire Crabs—but Nifflers were simply too irresistible!
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