Cillian looked around the Divination room and let out a tiny shudder. It was just as he had remembered it. When he arrived back at Hogwarts the night before he come up to the tower after filling out all the paperwork necessary of him. In the twilight the room had seemed much more sinister than it ever had during the day. He half expected to have more horrid visions as he walked around examining the crystal balls and teacups hidden away in the glass cabinets. After having lit a fire he had fallen asleep in one of the comfy little chairs that were still present.

When he awoke in the morning the smell of Heliotrope and Jasmine had left his throat dry and chalky. Seeing the room in the morning sunlight Cillian suddenly realized that unlike his years at Hogwarts the room had turned purple. It was harsh on the eyes and Cillian was taken over by an overwhelming sense to redecorate, starting with tracking down that incense.

Cillian had placed a note on the door to the North Tower instructing his classes for the day to take the time to study and return for a special class at four. During his redecorating Cillian ripped down all the curtains, tossed the incense and dusted every surface imaginable. With slight changes to the tablecloths, which were now a barely noticeable blue and the carpets to a soft brown Cillian put a pot of tea on and settled into the largest of the armchairs at the front of the classroom. Unlike others Cillian didn't believe atmosphere was necessary for the art. You either had an inner eye or you didn't, you were either attuned to the forces around you that dictated fate or you weren't. No amount of incense was going to make you any better and a stuffy claustrophobic tower was only going to make you feel worse if you didn't have a gift.

He had brought the chalkboard over to the other side of the mantle and wrote in a small elegant script, Professor Cillian Cuthbert. He stared into the fire as he waited for his biggest class of the year to arrive.

Was it coincidence that Sasha was facing a new Professor for Divination on his first day back at school?  Given the class itself it was hard not to think that there was some hidden meaning to it - there always seemed to be.  One might think it was completely random chance that dictated where a worm would choose to burrow back down into the soil but they could always count on this class to prove them wrong.  How foolish they were to think that!  And, even more foolish to think that the worm was choosing to burrow there because the soil was looser and less wet.  Oh no - that was complete idiocy to not realize a glass ball, a cup of tea and the worm had sat down to conference with the stars and decide that you needed to shave that morning so the worm had to crawl across the leaf before going into the ground. 

Divination never had been Sasha's favorite class.  His wandwork had always been a weak point but Divination - Divination he'd always been rubbish in. He'd yet to earn above an Acceptable in the class - and not for a lack of trying.  This was the unconquerable class.  Dreogan had told him it was because Sasha tried to hard - tried to hard to analyze the information being presented.  To some degree, Sasha wasn't sure he wanted to know what was around the corner nor was he very enthusiastic about having his inner secrets revealed to his classmates.  Of course, now he had none - with nothing to hide, maybe it would be easier. 

Or, maybe he should just drop the class.  With his full schedule of thirteen Hogwarts classes and the six muggle courses he was studying privately no one would question him for freeing up a period.  Think of what he could get accomplished!  And - maybe - maybe if he got permission, he could get some tutoring from a muggle instructor during those times!  Someone who could help him when those chemistry problems started getting the upper hand.  And, if it weren't for the fact that would be admitting academic defeat, he might have considered dropping it.  But, if he was only doing so because he couldn't find a way to do well enough, that was cowardice. 

Optimism was never his strong suit so it was no surprise that it was hard to find hope that this time it would be different.  That a new professor would make things easier or more successful.  Even the vastly changed room wasn't quite the optimistic omen he might have hoped it would be. 

He nodded in greeting to the Professor, choosing a seat towards the front of the class, though off to the side.  At least maybe they weren't going to be doing any interpreting any hard water spots on the backs of spoons.  Professor Cuthbert.

There was a mystery afoot at Hogwarts!

Well, a half mystery, because the question of who would replace dear old Professor Gilmish had been partly solved. A man had taken her place. No one really seemed to know who it was as the person had just arrived and had yet to be introduced properly to the school. The man's identity was a mystery.

Faelyn had only been slightly disappointed when she had arrived at the tower classroom early only to find that class had not only been postponed but combined with the older students. Fae had not only her year to compete with but the smarter, rather annoying and sometimes slackish seventh years.

The knowledge that there was a new professor she had yet to know the name of ate at her the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. At random times the fact that she did not know who would shape her mind next laughed at her, teased her, and really drove her insane. She spent a good chunk of the day asking after the new professor, trying to figure out who was the replacement for what could sometimes be her favorite class. She was only a little bit closer of finding out who the mystery man was when class was nearly upon her.

Faelyn had rushed back to her room after discovering, from a first year no less, that her newest professor was rather young no more than thirty. She shuffled through her closet looking for her prettiest scarf and other random things to set her apart. Sometimes being forced to wear a uniform did not help. She wanted to make a good impression and blending in with everyone else was not helping.

Faelyn yanked open the tower door determined to be the first student to arrive. She strode in, back straight, shoulders square, chest slightly forward and head held high.

'darn' She thought when she spotted her fellow Ravenclaw Sasha sitting off to the side. Well if she couldn't be the first student in the room she was glad that it was a Ravenclaw and a fifth year! Faelyn continued to look around the room, taking in all of the changes. There was something familiar about the way it was set up. She felt like she had been there before, and while she had, this was no where near the same classroom. This place reminded her of somewhere away from school. It clicked when she noticed who was occupying the seat typically reserved for professors.

A smile brightened Faelyn's youthful face and all the lingering doubts she had about who would take over the class faded. She knew with certainty that this would now be the best class in the world and of course her favorite. Fae hadn't seen Cillian in several months, not since her last lesson earlier that summer before she went to Ireland. She felt only slightly guilty that she hadn't reported, through owl, on all of the mystical sights of Ireland and their relationship to the art of divination.

Faelyn paused in the middle of the room when she had noticed the professor. She was just a bit stunned. How should she greet him? He had been her teacher since she had been a mere girl. She'd been visiting the store her worked at since she was a little bit older than a toddler, approximately eight, and now he was formerly her professor. It was odd. Being formal just felt too weird but so did casual. She didn't want to seem to chummy with the professor because that could offset her fellow students. She did not want to be labeled as teachers pet...but would it be so bad?

Faelyn came to her senses and took a seat in the front row near the center. She settled in unpacking her belongings as she greeted Sasha with a hello before doing the same to the professor.

When Fauna climbed into the Divination tower, the first thing she noticed was that the air smelled a lot fresher. The faint scent of incense still lingered, but it wasn’t overpowering. She looked around the classroom, surprised to find the purple replaced with soft, subdued colors. The new professor had wasted no time making the space his own. She understood why he’d redecorate, but the change in professors made her uneasy, especially so late in the semester. Fauna wasn’t quite ready to face a completely new environment, either.

The fiasco at the Halloween dance probably had something to do with Professor Grimlish’s resignation. It wasn’t anything Fauna could help, but she still felt guilty since the prank was being put on her friend Maddie, who she knew didn’t do it. She shook her head, suddenly irritated, and hoped that the other professors would stay for the semester, even if they disagreed with what was happening around Hogwarts.

She walked further into the room and did a double take at the young man in front of the fire, who she’d assumed was a student at first glance. His name was on the board: Professor Cuthbert. He looked nice, unobtrusive. Fauna greeted him softly, then took a seat near Sasha’s. She put her chin in her hands and stared off into space, wondering what the afternoon would bring. A joint class with fifth years could mean something fun, or it could easily turn into chaos.

[Trent's Robes]

Divination with Professor Grimlish seemed a bit absurd to Trent Travis, but he never really cared, anyways. He remembered quite fondly, however, that he was persistent to make Neely Woolfolk uncomfortable the last time he was in the class. Ahh, fond memories. He didn't quite remember how he did it though... Didn't he compliment her or something? Asked if she wanted to make that feeble boy Sasha jealous? It would've worked... But Trent Travis was glad he didn't have to taint his mind with spending time with Wafflefolk-- Or Woolfolk.

He trotted up the stairs and sighed. Divination was a load of bull crap. Whoever the new Professor was would hate Trent simply because he disliked bull crap classes. Like when Wartfolk's brother starts blabbering about Horoscopes and junk... All bull crap. Trent entered the classroom with a small scowl when he noticed something really important: The room wasn't annoying to look at anymore. His scowl turned blank as he eyed the room... Strange. Though he really liked the incense that was always burning, the air was fresh, the room was clean...

"What the bloody hell?" He quirked an eyebrow before finding a seat as far away from the new Professor as possible. Perhaps today would be okay... Maybe he'd get paired up with a foxy lady or a stupid fifth year that would be easy to tease. Like, Stacy-- Or Samantha-- Or Sasha-- Or whatever that boy's name was. He took out a ragged notebook from his nearly-destroyed bag and set it down with his broken quill. Gosh, he was poor. Perhaps he wouldn't need to do any writing in this class... At least, he hoped he didn't have to.

Divination was, as surprising as it might seem, one of Callum Knight's absolute favorite classes. His mother's side of the family was littered with various seers, some good, some mediocre, some who were probably fake- either way, it seemed that he had inherited a small gift for the art of divination, and because he was good at it, he enjoyed the class. It was fun to watch other people be baffled at his capabilities to perform well int he class. (Then again most were baffled when he performed well in general, somehow everyone thought he was stupid, which was far from the truth.)

He had noticed a note on the door to come back later at a different time earlier in the door, and arrived a few minutes before four that afternoon. He had been glad for the extra time to study, as it helped him be more prepared for his earlier classes. Entering the room, he noticed a few others had already gathered.

Callum smirked in Schlagenweit's direction, pondering whether or not he was overdue for a beating. He had been focusing his attentions lately on harassing Ferguson Amherst to death. Callum had been very bitter for quite some time that Ferguson had a more noticed and more successful birthday than he did. Barely anyone told him happy birthday. The only nice present he got had been from Blake, and even that had been followed up by a dead animal. He was still plotting his exact revenge for that one.

The Slytherin found a seat, closer to the front, by himself. He flashed the professor what he hoped was a charming smile before getting out the materials he would need for the class and arranging his workspace. Hopefully nobody he disliked would come plop down next to him. Those damned Hufflepuffs never seemed to learn that not all Slytherins wanted to be their friends. In fact, Callum was disgusted by the number of Slytherins who seemed to be toying with them romantically and in other ways. It was improper. Slytherins and Ravenclaws banded together, the end. The only time Slytherins and Hufflepuffs ever worked together, and ever should have worked together, was against Harry Potter back in the day. (Or so he had heard from other people who were around back then.) Disgusting. 

Fergie's school robes

 Fergie was a nosy kid. He couldn't help it - he'd always been that way. So when Professor Gimlish resigned, he'd been sad (he'd liked her), but also extremely curious, both about the rumors flying around regarding the reason for her resignation and who would replace her. The fact that class had been postponed that day, the very first day with their new professor, had only amplified his curiosity. Divination was one of his favorite classes, despite the fact that the incense gave him a bit of a headache and he found the violently purple decor appalling. He was always eager to arrive at the classroom, but today the anticipation leant speed to his steps.

 Stepping into the classroom, the Slytherin paused for a moment in surprise, blinking at the unexpected sunshine. That was certainly a change. And that wasn't the only one, he realized as he took a quick look around. He didn't think he could see a single purple item in the room. Apparently, their new professor had used the time between the cancelled class and the postponed one redecorating. "Oh, thank Godric," he said under his breath, taking a breath of the considerably lighter air before turning to inspect the man at the front of the classroom.

 The face his gaze alighted on was unexpectedly familiar, although Fergie could not immediately discern why. He looked young. It was possible he'd graduated sometime during Fergie's time at Hogwarts, but - no, wait. "I know you!" he blurted out. Not exactly the smooth, favor-currying greeting he'd planned, but he'd been taken by surprise. "You work in that little shop in Hogsmeade, right? I love that place!"

Cillian had intended to keep quiet until all of his students had arrived but as they started to file in he discovered there were many things that were promting him to speak. He felt uneasy at the fact that he was dressed so casually. He had on a pair of dark wash jeans a plain white t shirt and a powder blue suit jacket on overtop. He normally didn't dress formally even when he was teaching his workshops but now he was feeling he should probably have put on some robes or something.

Cillian nodded to Sasha as he entered wondering if he should say something to his first ever official student but was stopped when the next student who walked in was very very familiar. Cillian broke into a wide smile as Faelyn greeted him so casually. He had known the girl for almost seven years now. Her father was a very valued and frequent customer at the shop he worked at and when it was made known that Cillian was a Seer he had been personally approached. Apparently there was a prophecy made about Faelyn's family, something about a very powerful Seer being born into their bloodline and Cillian was then paid handsomely to groom Faelyn into that prophecy. He personally didn't believe her to be 'the chosen one' but he needed the money at the time and felt sorry for the little girl.

As it turned out even though she wasn't a Seer the little girl had a knack for the art of Divination and had become something of Cillian's apprentice. He taught her several times a month usually on the weekends but hadn't seen her since the summer. He got up from his chair and walked over to her glad that at the time there was only one other student in the classroom. He lent over her pretending to look at one of the books she had pulled out, "Ye still haven't told me about yer trip to me beloved Ireland. I'd love ta hear all about it." He gave her a wink before settling into his chair at the front of the class as others came in.

A horrible realization came to Cillian when Fauna Blake walked in. Due to the year he had spent in a coma Cillian had to complete his following years at Hogwarts a year later than he was expected to. Cillian wondered if the now fully grown woman (At least she would be in the wizarding world since she'd no doubt be celebrating her seventeenth birthday this school year) would remember him. She had been in her second year when Cillian graduated which meant there was a good possibility that any of his seventh year students would remember going to school with him.

Thankfully he didn't have to dwell on this fact for very long when Ferguson came in. He had thought the boy looked familiar, it was hard to tell in matching school uniforms who he was but once he made his outburst Cillian was able to place him. During Hogsmeade trips his store was often swamped with students either picking up supplies, hoping to find something to help them with their homework or just to have something to do. Being the best dressed fifteen year old Cillian had ever seen in his life it wasn't hard to remember someone like Ferguson coming into his shop.

"I'm glad ye like it." Cillian nodded noticing that it was the first time he had spoken aloud in front of the other students and his thick Irish accent would be rather noticeable to them. He then addressed the rest of the class, "We'll just be waitin fer a few more student then we cin start."

George was in love with his schedule, really. Well, except for his one ‘morning’ class. Diviniation, which was a class he did enjoy, was the only thing that forced him out of bed when he wasn’t in the mood to chow down a large breakfast. Otherwise he could get up as he pleased and study or goof off until lunch and his afternoon classes, though when Waker was keeping him company, he had to do more studying than he would have forced himself to do in his own time.

It all worked out. And those days he slept in past breakfast he made up for with a hearty lunch. As it was, George had woken up a little late and had practically ran to class for Divination. Upon seeing the sign on the door, he’d been thoroughly irritated. How was he supposed to schedule Quidditch practices around a schedule that kept changing?! Sure, they were able to pick up a day a week after study break, and on rare occasions they could schedule an extra one… but he really wished Professors would take the competition to heart as much as his players did.

After showering properly and changing into clean clothes, he’d zipped down to meet with his girlfriend, where he’d doodled possible Quidditch plays amongst their studying. Of course, after his afternoon classes he was beat and really didn’t want to go back up to the Divination room. He’d considered skipping it, but had some subconscious nagging from a part of his brain Waker must have irritated and woke up.

Whatever the case, he trudged along and made it into the room. He winced at the fading sun that was streaming in, but merely glanced around to see who all was there. Another joint class?! He could have groaned, but he kept it in before choosing who was going to be unlucky enough to sit with him. Pulling out the parchment tucked into his back pocket, which had been messing up his untucked school shirt, he sat down next to Sasha and gave the boy a grin.

Pulling the quill out from behind his ear, he set it on top of the rolled mess, leaning the chair back on its two back legs. “How’s Ravenclaw doing with Quidditch practice?” His eyes happened to notice, a bit late, the changes in color and smell of the room, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. He’d always liked the overly done room, with its ‘one-of-a-kind’ feel and decoration and… aroma. Then his eyes settled on the new Professor and he frowned in slight recognition. As it was, he was the oldest student, having repeated his sixth year.

As familiar as he seemed, George merely shrugged it off and turned his attention back to his table mate. Smirking, he made a motion to the Professor and leaned forward, the chair once again on all fours, his voice low so Sasha could hear. “Unless he found the Fountain of Youth, you think he’s an expert in the field?” He seemed a bit young…

[Uniform]

It was strange no longer having the airy, polite Divination professor around (With the cute... What was it? Cousin? Nephew? He was a cutie whatever he was) but Beatrix was sure a new professor around would be completely acceptable. The poor women of Hogwarts were dwindling away... Soon it'd be taken over by men. And then Callum Knight would become headmaster and all hell would break loose! With strange ranting still in mind, the girl drifted into the classroom and, as always, glanced around for a seat.

Deciding it'd be easiest to just sit on her own this time, the Dark girl practically danced over to an empty table next to Sasha and George. "Evening Sasha! Beautiful day, isn't it?" She beamed over at the boy and dropped her bag onto the table. Beatrix also gave a polite smile to the Carter boy, but seeing she didn't know him well, she didn't exactly know how to address him. She took her seat and her eyes scanned the room. She would have to wait for someone to come and sit with her... Hopefully it wouldn't be Bellatrix. But Beatrix didn't have the heart to go ranting off about her in her own mind... Too many regretful feelings towards her twin were already spreading like a disease through her being, she didn't need to make herself sick over it.

Finally, she began to process the room. Beatrix had always liked the vibrant purple curtains and antique furniture... But the new Professor was, however, a man. And men didn't usually like purple... Or antiques. Speaking of which, her eyes landed on the new Professor and a small grin formed on the Ravenclaw's face. He was, indeed, handsome. He wasn't Professor Bombay... But he was still handsome.

Bea's head perked and she began to pull out her parchment and green quill. She knew she'd better get ready for writing, just in case the new professor was a nutter. Which he probably was, considering he taught Divination. Beatrix wasn't one to judge-- Wait. That's exactly what she was. Her brow furrowed and she let her quill drop down onto her paper. None the less, Divination professors were most likely strange and distant... Seeing the future, no doubt.

Xavier had delighted in the extra time he was given when his regularly scheduled Divination class was postponed. He already had a pretty full schedule having taken every elective available to him except muggle studies. He had felt in his third year that the class was unnecessary. There was no point in learning about muggles and their own ignorant world when the future he knew to be coming was going to make the pathetic subclass irrelevant. If things worked out the way they were supposed to muggles would be reduced to slaves or fodder to try and figure out how muggleborns were well born.

Despite what most people thought of the fifth year Slytherin Xavier was an ideal student, he had O's in almost all of his classes and was only one step away from being teacher's pet. He viewed his education as the most important thing in his life. No one was going to follow a leader that wasn't well educated. That's what he always thought was wrong with Lord Voldermort, for as powerful as the Dark Lord was and as smart as he had been in school he let himself be defeated by a seventeen year kid because he was ignorant to forms of magic that he had deemed irrelevant. Xavier was not going to make that same mistake.

Since the Halloween dance he had allowed himself to become engrossed in his studies proving to his teachers and his fellow students that he was still the top of the class and that no amount of violent misbehavior was going to take him off course. When he finally arrived at the Divination tower a little later than he had wanted to he was glad to see that it had been changed. He had always found the strong smell of incense to be distracting which is what he claimed was the reason he was only getting an E in the course. With the new surroundings and the inexperienced looking Professor, Xavier figured his luck had turned and he would soon be receiving another O.

He scanned the room for someone to sit with. Although he had spotted one of his best mates, Callum, and a few other Slytherins Xavier paused. He wasn't certain but he had a feeling Callum had been angry with him about something. Perhaps it had gotten out what had actually happened between him and Ayla. Either way, it felt it would be better for the both of them if he sat somewhere else and so with his bag slung over his shoulder he sat next to Beatrix, "Don't mind do ye luv?" 

This was a joint class, supposedly, between the fifth and seventh years.  An interesting match up - one which Sasha wasn't sure he was comfortable with.  The whole principle of Divination was unsettling in itself- this whole concept of opening yourself up for self discovery was just not something he really enjoyed.  The potential of being discovered by others was even more unsettling - to do so amidst those that amounted to little more than strangers in the seventh years was now how he'd hoped to finish out his first day back at school. 

Fae wasn't as bad, of course - she was a familiar entity and a fellow fifth year Ravenclaw.  Had he been more forward and confident, he might have asked if she wanted to sit at his table - to buffer himself from less desirable class partners if nothing else.  Like Fauna.  As much as they might have come to some ... understanding? ... on the first, Sasha wasn't sure he was really eager to have her poking around for those deepest, inner secrets that even he was unaware of.  Of course, there was worse than Fauna as Knight's smirk reminded him.  Fergie would have been an improvement over either but he seemed currently occupied with greeting their new professor.

Little effort was made to hide the surprise on Sasha's face when Carter plopped down in a seat next to him.  Sasha even felt compelled to glance over his shoulder just to make sure there wasn't someone behind him Carter had intended to sit with.  When he looked back, Carter was striking casual conversation.  "I ... alright," he said, shrugging.  "We've got a new beater and our reserve's come on as chaser.  I'm playing Seeker this year.  I'm ordering a new broom for it, even."  Oblivious to how pompous it might sound to just order a broom on a whim, Sasha was nervous and excited about the turn of events.  Sasha wasn't exactly the spitting image of a Seeker's build - he was light-weight and lanky enough, just too ... well, stretched for the most part.  But, impeccable balance from riding and eye hand coordination were Sasha's strengths as a chaser and, at the end of practice, they'd found themselves with four chasers and one seeker. 

"There's a fountain of youth in the wizarding world?"  Muggleborns learned about the wizarding world fast, there was no doubt about that.  But, they didn't learn everything and the lines between myth and reality were fuzzy enough in the magical world to make it difficult to predict what was reality and what were simple figures of speech.  Sasha glanced up towards the Professor before shaking his head slightly, muttering under his breath.  "What's it really take to be an expert in this field, any way?  Either you get it or you don't it seems.  Hello Beatrix," he added as the eccentric Ravenclaw settled in the table next to him.  He started to turn in her direction for a more thorough greeting when he spotted Tawse settling in the chair opposite her.  Quickly (perhaps a bit too quickly) he turned back to his own table, glancing at Carter before grinning sheepishly, albeit nervously.

Beatrix perked right up when Sasha addressed her, but he turned so quickly that she couldn't start a conversation with him... What was with him? But the she saw Xavier Tawse joining her, which came as a surprise to the young Ravenclaw. It was quite a twist on their usual route, where Beatrix would ask politely to sit with him and wonder how many times she could do it without him smacking her like Maddie Pratt. She gave him a smile and continued to sit straight in her chair. How exciting! The boy didn't hate her!

"Don't mind do ye luv?"

... Did he think she was Bellatrix? It wasn't often she was called 'luv', especially not by a boy... A boy that wasn't her father. But he seemed to know what he was doing... Plus, who would want to sit with Bellatrix? Especially a good-witted boy like Xavier! "Not at all, Tawse!" She beamed and tucked her feet together and out of his space. Maybe he'd realize that Bellatrix didn't have pink hair... Or a strange cockney-like accent. But befriending Tawse was something that Beatrix really enjoyed...

Mainly because she knew it ticked Callum Knight off seeing her happy. Especially with his friends. However, she also enjoyed Tawse's snarky comments and openness. Well, not openness... More like, he accepted Beatrix and Bellatrix for the nuts they were. What a swell guy! And a normal one, too! Of course, Vincent accepted Beatrix for being so strange... But he was brilliant enough to know Bellatrix was, well, aggressively strange.

"I wonder what we're doing today... I hope it's like the introductions we did last time. I'd have fun reading your future!" She told the boy, truthfully. Last time she was stuck with Fergie. Which was awful on so many levels. Did Tawse like Fergie? Beatrix hoped not. So many nice people liked him nowadays that she was starting to think she was going insane. Then again, she really was... But for different reasons.

Cillian watched his classroom fill up and mentally counted heads versus what was on his class roster. Everyone was pretty much there so he figured he might as well get started. He took a deep breath and stood up in front of the class, a motion that wasn't all that impressive given his five foot five frame. He hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt. This was so much more formal than anything he had taught before. He was used to his cosy little room back at The Inner Eye, the shop he had worked at for the last eight years. He was actually so comfortable with the shop he lived upstairs.

He cleared his throat and smiled,  "Well then I guess we cin git started." He looked around the class again glad to only see two or three faces that he recognized from when he was at school himself, "Me names Cillian Cuthbert and though I'm sure yer Headmistress will frown upon it as long as we're in this room feel free ta call me Cillian."

He started to pace around the front of the class trying to make sure he addressed each student, trying to make sure they all knew they were important and involved, "I wanna start off by sayin' Divination is a load of rubbish." He paused slightly a bit afraid of how they would all react, "Now don't git me wrong, I will teach ye what ye need ta know fer this class but there is no right and wrong with Divination and not everyone cin do it. I don't expect any of ye ta give me accurate predictions on anythin'. All I wanna see is that ye understand the material. That ye know what is used and how people use it."

He took another deep breath feeling more nervous the more he spoke, "Now back ta thee whole rubbish thing, ta understand why I say this ye need ta know a little bit more about me as a person not as yer Professor. I am a bonafide Seer. Not like that old bat Trelawney that used ta teach me when I attended here, I actually can see the future and fer lack of a better word it's complete bullocks." He sat back down in his chair and ran his hand through his hair, "I saw the second war happen before it did. Every night was filled with horrific visions of people getting tortured, manipulated and killed. I was thirteen."

He paused for a long while letting all of this soak in. He had no idea how they were going to react to all this but he felt they needed to know. If they were going to respect him as their Professor they had a right to know what had taken him to this point in his life, teaching students that had been in school the same time he had, "I have seen truly talented witches and wizards that understand this whole Divination thing and use it fairly well. The future is always changin, every single motion ye make ripples the outcome of yer future. Even as a Seer, nothin' is absolute. This is why I believe that Divination is rubbish but it doesn't mean it's not worth learning. The more ye understand thee better prepared ye are ta recognize the crazies that are jus tryin to git yer galleons." He gave them a wink to show that he could be a funny guy when he wanted to.

"So since this is tha first class I won't do anythin ye don't wanna do. If ye wanna work on other work, do it, if ye wanna do some cold readins lets do it. Fer now I jus wanna get ta knew ye all. Jus a simple my name is blah blah and I'm in house this and in year that. Doesn't have to be long winded but if ye wanna give me more feel free. Who wants ta start?"

This was a pleasant surprise. He'd heard that Professor Cuthbert's classes, taught at his shop, were good, but had never attended one.Over Christmas and summer holidays, well...he was just too lazy. Who voluntarily went to class while on vacation? Especially when it was taught about something one already was learning about in school. He was smart and enjoyed learning new things, particularly on subjects that interested him, but that just took it a little too far.

  "We'll just be waitin fer a few more student then we cin start." Fergie nodded and gave his new professor one last smile before turning to see how many students had already arrived and what seats were still open. Sasha was there - Fergie gave him a quick wave and a smile - but he already had a tablemate, and was sitting a bit too close to Beatrix Dark and Xavier Tawse for Fergie's taste.

 Eventually he ended up sitting down across from Callum. Not because he wanted to, really - Callum hated him, and the feeling was pretty much mutual. But at least Knight was good at the class, and Fergie figured it would annoy him. He was no match for Callum from a physical standpoint, but after five years he'd learned a thing or two about how to get on the other boy's nerves. Hey - he was going to get pummeled anyway. He knew that by now. He may as well do something to deserve it and get a little payback.

 "Afternoon, Callum!" Fergie greeted his fellow Slytherin with a smile that was a little too cheerful to be sincere. "Unpleasant as always, I assume?" Not bothering to ask (or care) whether Callum minded if he sat down or not, Fergie shrugged his school bag off his shoulder and set it on the floor where it would be in easy reach in case he needed to retrieve something out it, and turned back to the front of the class where Professort Cuthbert (he wasn't sure he could call a professor by their first name, even if given permission - it was just weird.) was addressing the class.

 Cillian's opening statement of Divination being complete rubbish was unexpected and a bit jarring. If he didn't believe in it, then why was he teaching it? Fergie looked around to see if anyone else was as surprised as he was by this proclamation, but as Professor Cuthbert continued things began to make more sense. And seeing all of that at just thirteen - his sister Anastasia's age. That was...intense. It made him glad that he wasn't a seer. He was good at Divination and able to enjoy it without carrying the burden of being afraid to fall asleep because he could dream something horrible that may or may not come true. The Slytherin settled himself more comfortably in his seat when it became clear this wasn't going to be a formal class, and waited to see which of his fellow students would speak up first.