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Harry Potter: Dudley From LOTM - 349
🕑 Added 2025-12-10 13:28:56 +0000 UTCChapter 349: Your Name
Seeing that Hermione clearly did not want to explain, Dudley fell silent for a moment, then slowly climbed the steps into the classroom.
It was the least classroom‑like classroom he had ever seen.
There were no desks, no proper chairs, only a couple of dozen low round tables, each ringed with patterned cushions. The whole place looked like a cross between an attic and an old‑fashioned teahouse.
The room was very dim. All the curtains were drawn; only a little light leaked around the edges and slipped into the gloom.
The strangeness of the setting pulled Dudley’s attention away from Hermione, at least for now.
It felt very much like the rooms he had seen in that other world, the ones used by real Seers.
It made him curious about the owner of this attic, the professor who taught Divination. Could there really be a genuine Seer in this world?
A brazier burned in the centre of the room, flames licking high. Suspended above it was a brass teapot, filling the air with a thick, cloying scent that was almost nauseating.
On a nearby bookshelf lay all manner of grimy feather quills, stubs of candles, battered decks of playing cards, cloudy crystal balls and a precarious stack of teacups.
"Welcome."
The voice drifted out of the shadows, soft and slightly slurred.
Dudley quickly slipped onto a cushion beside Harry.
A figure emerged slowly into the light.
"At last, I meet you in the material world. How delightful," she said.
Dudley’s first impression was that an oversized, glittering insect had stumbled into the room.
The witch wore so many trinkets it was hard to see the person underneath: huge, gleaming spectacles; a shawl spangled with sequins; and strings of beads, bangles and rings that caught every stray glimmer of light.
In the murk, they flashed and winked in a way that was more unsettling than impressive.
"Welcome to Divination. I am Professor Trelawney," she announced.
"Most of you will not have seen me before. I have found that living amid the bustle and clamour of the main castle blurs my Inner Eye, and makes it harder to pierce the mysteries of the future."
No one even dared breathe too loudly as they watched her.
"Very well. You have chosen Divination, the most sophisticated of all magical arts," Trelawney went on. "Let me be plain: if you lack the Sight, there is nothing I can do for you. In this field, books can only take you the tiniest distance."
At that, more than one pair of eyes slid towards Dudley and Hermione.
They were, without question, the top two students in their year, and both of them devoured books, especially Hermione, for whom reading was practically a way of life. If, in this subject, books were almost useless, then their usual advantage might vanish.
That would give everyone else a chance.
"Many witches and wizards are gifted enough to make things explode, transfigure their faces or vanish into thin air," Trelawney continued. "Yet they cannot lift the veil that shrouds the future."
"True Divination is a talent granted to a rare few."
Her words faded, and then her gaze swung abruptly to Neville.
"You, my dear boy. How is your grandmother?" she asked.
Neville jumped. "F‑Fine, I think," he stammered.
"Oh, I would not be so sure, dear," Trelawney murmured.
Neville went as white as the teacups.
Dudley narrowed his eyes, watching her. Whatever interest he had felt earlier was draining away fast.
So far, she seemed to be doing little more than putting on a show.
"You... you must beware," Trelawney said suddenly, sweeping her gaze around the room before fixing it on Parvati.
"Beware of what, Professor?" Parvati squeaked.
"Beware of red‑haired men," Trelawney said gravely.
Parvati’s eyes darted at once to Ron, sitting not far away. She shuffled her cushion several feet further off.
Ron could not help rolling his eyes.
"My dear, you seem to doubt my predictions," Trelawney said, having clearly caught the gesture. Her tone was airy, but her eyes were sharp as she looked at him.
"No, I just... my eyes hurt. Yes. My eyes hurt," Ron said quickly, rubbing at them for effect.
Trelawney held his gaze for a long moment, then turned her attention to Harry and Dudley beside him.
She studied Harry first, and from the way her eyes lingered on his scar, it was obvious she had recognised him. She was just opening her mouth to proclaim something when she seemed to notice Dudley properly for the first time.
"Oh!"
She gave a sharp cry and stumbled back, knocking over the little round table behind her.
Everyone in the room jumped.
"Professor Trelawney? Are you all right?" Lavender Brown hurried over and helped her back to her feet.
The professor did not answer. Her eyes were still locked on Dudley.
"C‑Child... what is your name?" she asked, lips trembling.
"Dudley Dursley," he said evenly, meeting her stare and weighing her in turn.
Had she actually seen something?
"Dudley Dursley," Trelawney repeated under her breath.
"Is that... your true name?" she asked, after a moment.
Dudley frowned.
It was his name, yes. But whether it was his real one was harder to say.
He had another name: Dudley Trunsoest. The name he bore in that eerie Beyonder world. The one that carried weight in mysticism, because it was the only name under which he could truly touch the strange and the supernatural.
From that angle, his real name ought to be Dudley Trunsoest, not Dudley Dursley.
Seeing his expression tighten, Trelawney spoke again.
"My dear, you must beware," she whispered, her voice shaking.
"Beware of what?" Harry demanded.
"I see misfortune upon you," Trelawney said, her huge eyes flying open.
"Misfortune? What is that supposed to mean?" Ron said, frowning.
"Misfortune, dear boy. Misfortune," she cried. "A dire omen. The darkest of omens. An omen of death."
Her words rang off the sloping ceiling, filling the cramped attic with a heavy, choking silence.
Faces around the room shifted to fear, to unease. Every eye fixed on Dudley, uncertain whether to be more frightened for him or of him.
Only Dudley himself remained as calm as ever.
