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Transfigure the Mind

If you want to change...just ask. I'll tell you how

Minerva McGonagall
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"Really, what has gotten into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall turning back into her normal self with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."
Everybody's head turned toward Harry again, but nobody said anything. Then Hermione raised her hand.
"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and-"
"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say anymore, Miss Granger. Tell me, which one of you will be dying this year?"
Everyone stared at her.
"Me," said Harry finally.
"I see," said Professor McGonagall fixing Harry with her beady eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them had died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colegues-"
Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney-"
She stopped again, and then said in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you'll excuse me if I don't let you off homework. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."
Hermione laughed. Harry felt better.