A.N: A drabble of Professor Trelawney feeling bitter, during the aftermath of the War of Hogwarts. Written for the Female Character challenge, with the prompt Elizabeth Bennet.

oOo

I had always been so sure. The voices of my mother, and my grandmothers before her, they were in my ears the whole time. I was always completely positive that our world would be plunged into darkness one day. The Dark Lord would overrule us, and the Boy Who Lived would be no more. All the crystals told me, all the signs, all the stars. I was sure.

Of course I didn't want the boy to die, no. I became quite fond of him, if truth be told. But even after the countless times I told him his imminent death was around the corner (and he remained alive for another day), I was sure that the finale would always be his fight between himself and the Dark Lord. The ball was always black as night – there was no future for Harry Potter.

But it appears I was wrong. It is the day after the Dark Lord perished. The Chosen One has gone on to pursue his life, alive and well. I was wrong. I don't know what to believe. I am unfit to teach the subject of Divination – the damn horse knows more than I do. I will step down as Divination teacher, and he will rule the subject for time to come. My skills aren't as refined as my grandmothers. I am as everyone ever assumed – a phony, and a fraud.

oOo