—THE STORM HAD BLOWN ITSELF OUT BY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, THOUGH THE CEILING IN THE GREAT HALL WAS STILL GLOOMY. Rigel, Blaise, and Draco compared their fourth year schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, they could hear all sorts of stories about how to get into the tournament.

"Today's not bad... outside all morning." said Draco, who was running his finger down his schedule.

"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Gryffindors." grumbled Blaise bitterly, angrily biting into an apple.

"Double Divination this afternoon," Rigel groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Herbology— he simple hated to get his hands dirty, which happened everytime in Herbology.

Divination, however, he hated because Trelawney kept predicting his death, which he found extremely annoying.

"You should've given it up and joined me in Ancient Runes, shouldn't you?" Blaise pointed out.

"But Ancient Runes is so confusing!" Rigel complained, earning a nod from Draco, who agreed.

••

Rigel grimaced. Professor Sprout was showing the class the ugliest plant Rigel had even seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil.

Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus—"

"The what?!" asked Draco, sounding revolted. Rigel had the same horror-stricken expression on his face, which was unusual to see on the usually-emotionless boy.

"Pus, Malfoy, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotubers pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol.

They caught it in bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotubers pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl—" Professor Sprout shook her head. "—but Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

••

The Slytherins walked over to their Care of Magical Creatures class, where Hagrid was standing outside his hut.

They noticed that there were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet.

As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at the Gryffindors that were now also there. "Been wait'n fer you lot. You won't want ter miss this— Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" asked Ron Weasley.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.

Rigel tried not to let his disgust show. The Blast-Ended Skrewts looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "So yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project out of it!"

Rigel couldn't hold it in any longer. "And why would we want to raise them?"

The Gryffindors, for the first time ever, agreed with a Slytherin. Honestly, either it was because of Rigel's extremely good-looks or the fact that he was very intriguing— it wasn't new to find even the least likely people agree with him, so Draco and Blaise weren't surprised at all.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" continued Rigel. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few second' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Potter-Black—"

"Black."

"—Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things— I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer— I got ant eggs an' frigs livers an' a bit o' grass snake— just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Draco.

They all reluctantly did what Hagrid instructed. Rigel couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me!"

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" exclaimed Pansy Parkinson, blushing when the Slytherin boys, including Rigel, had turned around to see what the matter was. Trying to ignore it, she continued, "Eurgh, Hagrid! What's that pointy thing on it?!"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," replied Hagrid enthusiastically.

Many of the students quickly withdrew their hands from the boxes.

"I reckon they're the males... The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies... I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Blaise sarcastically.

"Yeah," nodded Draco, just as sarcastic. "who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean that they're not useful!" Hermione Granger snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Draco scoffed. "What would you know about how magical dragon's blood actually is? You only knew about the wizarding world a few years ago, mudblood."

••

"Well, atleast they were small." Someone tried reasoning as the Slytherins sat down at the great hall.

"They are now. But once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long." Blaise shot back to the person, who walked over to her friend.

"I'm done for the day." Draco complained.

"You've got a few more classes left, Draco." Blaise pointed out, putting some mashed potatoes on his and Draco's plate, while Rigel was doing it for himself.

"Yeah, and I can spend that by sleeping in our dorm!"

"I'm sure you'll also be spending your future adult years being alone in a one-bedroom house, then."

Draco looked horrified, earning a smirk from Blaise. "Nevermind. Classes sound like a good idea now."

••

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Rigel and Draco set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling.

The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder.

Rigel and Draco walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same circular table.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Proffesor Trelawney right behind Rigel, making him turn around.

Professor Trelawney was staring at Rigel with the pity and tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him.

"My dear, my inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that the thing you will start to fear soon— will show itself along the way one day. You shall not want it at first, but it shall be the only thing you'll ever need and it might even have the power to save you." Professor Trelawney said.

"Start to fear?" Rigel repeated in complete confusion. "I— what?"

Trelawney looked at the teen in pity. "You shall know this summer what you fear most, and you shall experience it in a few summers later."

"... Right." Rigel nodded in fake agreement, not knowing what the hell the Professor was going on about.

Which actually made him think— he now knew how to defeat a dementor... so what will his boggart turn into?

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars!" exclaimed Trelawney in excitement.

Rigel tuned her out.

A few minutes later, he was snapped back into reality when Draco nudged him and nodded to the professor, who was looking at him.

"Er— what?"

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he obviously not been had not been hanging on her words.

"Born under— what, sorry?" Rigel asked in utter confusion. The Divination class has definitely made him lose his brain cells— why was there even Divination lessons? They surely wouldn't be using tea leaves in their future jobs!

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth... your dark hair... your mean stature... tragic losses so young in life... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

Rigel immediately understood what she was saying, but acted confused.

Trelawney had been talking about the horcrux in him, not himself— Trelawney was talking about Tom. And he was right since Tom fit in all the categories that Trelawney explained.

"No." said Rigel. "I was born in July."

Draco hastily turned his laugh into a cough, not wanting to draw too much attention.

Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," said Rigel after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaaah," said Draco, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Rigel..."

Crabbe and Goyle, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown— "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron Weasley, earning a few sniggers from the Gryffindors.

Professor Trelawney, however, was less than amused by the joke, and gave them all extra homeworks, making the class groan.