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[claiirvoyants]

prophecy class cancelled due to foreseen circumstances

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[claiirvoyants]

lavendrrs​:

“Professor, you have no idea how much that means to me. To be of your brightest students…when surely, so many insightful seers have been inspired by your brilliance,” Lavender beamed, even as her nerves twist her stomach in knots. She had done readings in front of and for Sybill plenty of times in class - so why did it feel so daunting now? “I’m still trying to get a handle on palmistry. You know me, preferring the stars and tea leaves. But left hand, here we go!” Lavender repeated her process on her former professor’s left hand, honing all her energy into discovering the meaning behind each shape and indentation. “Professor, I sense….I sense nothing.” She dropped Sybill’s hand and let her head fall into her own. “Am I losing my touch?”

“ah, well. part time seers, perhaps...- the popularity of the noble art has certainly sunk over the past few... decades...” honestly, she’s made a little flustered. it’s EASY to bestow kindness onto lavender, who had always shown such honest interest in her subject ( and had such talent for it ! ). it’s far harder to admit & deal with the harsh reality of theirs being a dying art. it was a horrible thought that someday her talents might be rendered useless entirely - though there was a bit more concern for what that would do to her financial affairs than much else. she chuckles and agrees that she does remember lavender’s preference, voice kept down so as not to break the others concentration. frown appears quickly. “nothing?” maybe she’s just unused to honesty. most of her students have a history of making it up even when they can’t sense anything, after all. “i’m sure- my dear, i’m sure you’re not. everyone has an off color day. it’s important to let the fates work at their own speed, let them tell you what they want to when they want to - of course... they might decide never to speak to you again.... but that’s- i’m sure that’s not what’s going to happen here. maybe you’ve over exerted your inner eye.”

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lavendrrs​:

Lavender beams as she takes Sybill’s hand in hers. “I won’t lie - I’m nervous, Professor. I want to make you proud. Honestly, I don’t know where I would be without you or your class. You are my inspiration and I’m – I’m rambling, aren’t I? My apologies, Professor. Okay, let’s see what we have here….” She begins to trace the lines in Sybill’s palm with her finger, yearning for the truth she knows each line contains. She closes her eyes, searches her heart and finds….nothing. She frowns, before glancing at her role model. “Is this your dominant hand? May I look at the other?”

“oh, there’s no need to be nervous, dear! you were one of the brightest i ever taught - i knew that very first day, when i saw just how open your mind was, i knew you’d go far,” there was certainly no need to apologize for rambling, given sybill’s own tendency to indulge in much the same. she continued to murmur things about lavender’s undeniable talent and crystal clear inner eye into nothingness, losing her train of thought as she watches the other work intently. “well, i’m right handed-” no cause for concern, just yet : she’s a little taken aback, but she offers her other hand without second thought. “but i have been known to favor my left, at times. oh, i hope there’s no misfortune.” for someone apparently hoping for none, there’s a weird amount of excitement in her voice at the thought. 

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“my dear, nothing would make me happier than to see how far you’ve come,” comes a downright hearty response, hand shooting outwards without hesitation, palm already turned to the sky. there’s real excitement to the way in which her whole body seems to move forward, too, all the better to see the lines criss crossing her own hand and watch as lavender studied her fate. she doesn’t even see fit to mention how she could do all this, herself - doing so would take something away from this professor / student interaction, and sybill is too fond of lavender to allow anything to ruin it. “where to start, where to start...- perhaps my love life is not an appropriate subject, to begin with. something easy. my life... long and happy? or tragic, and cut short?” 

“Can I read your palm?” Lavender’s eager question disrupted the silence that had settled between her and present company.  She needed to expand her pool of clientele if she ever wanted to strengthen her understanding of palmistry - reading and rereading her mom’s palm would only get her so far. What better time to start? “Surely you must have some questions only your palms can answer.”

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ofenchantment​:

“ i’m glad you did.” cassia admits and she’s not lying it’s comforting having the other there, the worst part about being there was being alone for the most part. “ thank you, mama.” she means it, thankful that her mama had owled the both of them. as she wanted them here too. although part of her was worried neither would understand.“ i don’t know, i did put myself in harms way.” she’d shrug but she doesn’t wish to move anymore–when sitting up was hard enough. “ mum most certainly will be. and i did believe in what i was doing. it was for all the right reasons. do you want me to tell you what happened ? so you understand more ? “

harms way. it’s an almost laughable appraisal of what had happened, given where cassia currently lay. sybill contents herself with an exhale of breath that could have been a chuckle, and takes in the rest of what her daughter has to say before she even begins to mull on her response. as so, it takes a while, for her to get there. gaze behind the thick lenses of her glasses never wavers, though - and one hand very nervously stretches out, to tap cassia’s. it isn’t the vice grip of a comforting mother, exactly, but it’s something. “tell me if it was noble. putting yourself in harms way has always been justifiable, if it’s noble,” wry smile pulls at lips as she once again remembers the stories she has told her, fairytales filled with princesses & dragons, "and save the actual story for your mum. i’m afraid i’ve never had the heart for violence, my dear.” 

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the sexual tension between me and my prophetic dreams

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Margot Robbie as Imelda in Dollface (2019-)

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are my prophetic visions a joke to you

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Hope this prophetic dream finds you well.

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Hope this prophetic dream finds you well.

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I feel… wide awake.

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chacswins​:

Tonks does technically work for the Ministry, but she would admit that she doesn’t exactly feel like she does. She feels like a separate entity than other parts of the Ministry, so she always felt out of place at these galas. But, any excuse to wear a nice suit.

She doesn’t mean to, but she realizes she is patrolling the gala rather than actually participating. She didn’t always see eye to eye with Kingsley, but she’d be loyal to him until the very end. The tension in her body hardly eases as she also realizes she practically sees Remus everywhere. A long sigh and a big swig of a drink later, she forces herself to engage. 

“So,” Tonks walks up to the nearest person she could find. “What a wild couple of days it’s been, huh?” Good Merlin, since when was she this awkward? She smiles in hopes the other didn’t take care.

“oh, only to the unseeing eye,” she waves a hand in that way which is so often called dismissive, continuing to busy herself at the refreshments table. half empty champagne flute sits precariously on the edge as she places little pastries on a dainty plate, though of tonks feels free of her, she has another thing coming. much like anyone encountering their first willing conversationalist in a night ( & awfully like my old bridge teacher who hijacked an hour of parents teacher night just to talk about bridge with my mother because she was so starved of attention ) sybill is unlikely to allow her leave so soon. “a big change such as this has been brewing i’m afraid, for months. the only surprise i would call- wild, as you said- is that potter boy... i’m sure you understand, of course, that i who have had such a close connection to that poor boys life line over the years finds it difficult to believe the official story of events. were it possible i would jump naturally to the idea of... of a resurrection-” 

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Frankly, I don’t give a shit anymore. She is outsmarting the smartest of us and for that she deserves to do or kill whoever the hell she wants. I mean, if she’s not killing me, then frankly it’s not my job to care anymore.

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Sandra Cisneros, from My Wicked Wicked Ways: Selected Poems; “His Story,”

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me: *receives nonsense information from a dream*

me: this is hidden knowledge only i am privy to

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‘— a death-ridden woman, haunted by dreams.’

— Arthur Miller, adapted from The Crucible