Finally it was Friday and Mary's last class of the week. It hadn't been a good week. At first it seemed that there would be a week without tears as the Professor had managed to hold them back almost all of her lessons as well as at the breakfast table, and when in her tower alone. Unfortunately, as most students correctly predicted, that didn't last long. By Tuesday evening Mary's face was patchy and pink. Come Wednesday her tearducts were aching and as Thursday evening approached the divinations professor's voice had started to go. Today it appeared her voice had further vanished.
Throughout the lessons today Mary had struggled to communicate with her classes, granted she had only had two due to the poor popularity of the subject however they were two teary classes. At first she'd cried because nobody could hear her instructions, then she cried because she'd ran out of chalk when writing what she wanted to say on the board, then Mary had been in hysterics because she heard a student recounting their sighting of the omen of death: the grim. Professor Mist couldn't help but now worry about her student, that poor third year Hufflepuff.
Unable to conduct a proper lesson to the best of her abilities Mary had decided to sway from the topics intended and planned a relaxing lesson of reading tea leaves for her final class of the week. It was what she had done every day for the past twenty years in her shop in Diagon Alley, meaning her last lesson of the week would surely be a stroll in the park. Hopefully. Unless of course she saw another evil omen, which of course would be the final straw for moaning Mist.
Noticing that a few students had sidled into the classroom Mary blew her nose one last time, wiped stray tears from her bubble-blue eyes and took her seat in a red winged armchair by the fireplace. Just a few more students then she'd start...