Chapter 348

"Come on, think of a dream!" he said to Ron. "Professor Trelawney is coming this way!"

"I said it last time," Ron protested. "It's your turn, isn't it?"

"Eh? But... You know, after I learned brain closure, my dreams are always vague... Didn't I tell you?" Harry grabbed his hair. "Well... What dreams... Can you give me a hint?"

"The theme word... Or Snape?" Ron said.

"No, this has been used too many times... Ah... That... Right!" Harry suddenly brightened his eyes. "Umbridge! Yes, I dreamed that Umbridge was stuffed into a fully automatic gold-plated crucible and drowned. How about it?"

"Hahaha... You mean the one I gave to Marca?" Ron covered his stomach and trembled with laughter. "This is good! It's detailed enough... And Professor Trelawney must like it!"

As he spoke, he opened the dream interpretation guide in front of him.

When Ron was turning the book, trying to interpret such an absurd dream according to key words and figures such as Harry's age, Harry looked up in front of him.

Trelawney was standing next to Neville, checking his dream diary. Umbridge followed and stood behind Trelawney. The quill kept recording on her tablet.

It could be seen that Trelawney's face was full of unnatural look, and even her speech became stiff.

"By the way, which night did you 'dream'?" Ron asked without raising his head as he deduced according to the formula in the dream interpretation guide.

"Hmm? Any day... Just last night, just last night!"

Harry didn't care about his dream. Now he just wanted to hear the conversation between Umbridge and Trelawney.

The two men were only a table away from them now. Umbridge had just written down something on his tablet, and Trelawney seemed very angry.

"... well," Umbridge asked in a crisp girlish voice, leaning close to Trelawney, "to be exact... How long have you been at Hogwarts?"

Trelawney was obviously quite uncomfortable with Umbridge, a young old woman. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, hugged herself tightly, shrunk her neck, shrugged her shoulders, and even stared at her with the eyes of a victim.

Looking at her, it seems that she feels extremely insecure now.

After a little thought, Trelawney seemed to think the problem was harmless. As a teacher, she has nothing to answer such questions, but it may be beneficial.

So she summoned up her courage, but she was still a little fierce and feeble: "almost... Sixteen years!"

"That's... It's not too short." Umbridge's thick face, the sweetness of his smile, rose again. "So... Was president Dumbledore hired you?"

"That's right!" Trelawney nodded affirmatively.

"Yeah..." Umbridge wrote again.

"By the way, I see records that you are the great granddaughter of Cassandra Trelawney, the famous prophet?"

"That's it!" when she mentioned her family background, Trelawney not only straightened her chest, but also raised her head higher.

"Oh, is that so..."

Umbridge recorded it again, then raised his head again, but his eyes became meaningful.

"Prophet...? well... So, after Cassandra, you are the only one in the Trelawney family who has that... '" ho... Ho... Ho... Ka... "

A voice from somewhere deep in her throat was hoarse and low, with the irregular tremor of her body. The round framed glasses at the bottom of the crucible also fell to the ground, making a "click".

Harry had seen Trelawney's real prophetic gesture, but it was far less exaggerated than this time - would her hair float by itself? Was she still human?

Umbridge, who had just reached the end of the classroom, also heard the low and strange sound. She suddenly turned back and looked at Trelawney, but her disdain was even worse in her eyes.

"Professor Trelawney, do I have any signs of death?" she still smiled, but there was no smile in her eyes. "... well, by the way, it's black, isn't it? You see, I think my prophet blood has awakened!"

"Kaka... Kaka... Hum... Kaka..."

Trelawney's voice suddenly grew old, and the prophecy, which should have been vague, became unusually clear.

"Sin is... Recovering, the silent... Is... Ending!"