Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [150]

“I’ve never been much of a believer in Divination,” Bruce whispered to Hermione. “The future should be fluid, full of infinite possibilities.”

If the future were fixed, he wouldn’t have embarked on this journey with Kathoom in the first place.

One thing Bruce firmly believed: fate was in his own hands.

For instance, if he walked up to Professor Trelawney, grabbed her by the collar, raised his fist, and asked, “Do you think this fist will land on you in the next second?”

If she said no, he’d punch her.

If she said yes, he’d slap her instead.

That was what it meant to control one’s destiny.

“Now, I’d like you all to pair up,” Trelawney instructed, her voice lilting as she began the lesson. “Each of you will drink a cup of tea until only the leaves remain.”

“Swirl the leaves three times counterclockwise with your left hand, then turn the cup upside down on the saucer. Once the last drop has dripped out, hand the cup to your partner for interpretation.”

Bruce and Hermione naturally partnered up, already seated at the same table.

When both had finished their tea, Hermione handed her cup to Bruce, who passed his to her.

“I think I see a whirlpool,” Hermione said, tilting the cup and consulting Unfogging the Future. “It represents… an upcoming major event in which you’ll be uninvolved.”

“Major events happen daily on Earth. I can’t possibly be involved in all of them,” Bruce replied, glancing at Hermione’s cup. “Your cup has three ripples, which means… you might go swimming. And this—”

His brows furrowed suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not sure,” Bruce replied. “The shape is strange. It looks like… a dog? Or maybe a wolf.”

“Let me see.” Hermione reached out for her cup, but before she could take it, Trelawney was suddenly at their table.

The professor had been hovering around, listening to various conversations.

At Neville’s table, Dean Thomas was interpreting the tea leaves.

“There’s a cross in your cup,” Dean said, reading from the textbook. “That means you’ll experience ‘trials and suffering.’”

Neville’s round face turned ashen as he leaned in to look at his tea leaves.

“A cross?” Neville stammered. “It looks more like a sword to me.”

“What would you have to do with a sword?” Dean asked skeptically. “You’re a wizard, not a knight. Suffering seems more likely—sorry, I didn’t mean to jinx you.”

Trelawney peered over their shoulders, curious to see if it was indeed a cross or a sword.

At that moment, she overheard Bruce and Hermione’s conversation.

“—it looks like a dog or a wolf.”

“Let me see that cup!” Trelawney exclaimed, turning abruptly toward them.

Bruce handed her the cup.

One glance, and the professor gasped, clutching her chest as if in shock.

Then she collapsed into an armchair, closing her eyes dramatically.

“Oh, poor child… poor child…”

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked sharply, her brow furrowing.

The cup Bruce had handed over was hers.

“My dear,” Trelawney whispered, opening her eyes wide. “You are under a dark omen!

“That shadowy dog that haunts graveyards—it is a Grim! The most dire omen of all—a harbinger of death!”

The other students gasped, their faces filled with fear as they glanced nervously at Hermione.

But Hermione, the supposed victim of this prophecy, remained calm.

“I don’t think that’s ominous at all,” she said firmly.

“That’s because you lack the gift of foresight,” Trelawney lamented. “My poor child… today’s lesson ends here for you. Gather your belongings and… go.”

She refused to say another word or even look at Hermione again.

The students silently packed their things, casting Hermione sidelong glances filled with a mix of pity and unease.

Bruce closed his textbook and leaned over to whisper, “I told you Divination’s bogus. If Trelawney weren’t a teacher, she’d probably be charging you for readings by now.”

“I didn’t believe her anyway,” Hermione muttered. “Honestly, this is the first time I’ve felt like a class was a complete waste of time. Trelawney teaches nothing useful.”

Bruce nodded in agreement.

The pair left the classroom, bypassing the crowd, and slipped into an empty corner to activate the Time-Turner, rewinding back to 9:00 a.m. to attend their third class.

With such a packed schedule, Hermione quickly forgot about the Grim and Trelawney’s ominous theatrics.

Death omens, she thought dismissively, are just a load of nonsense.

—

After finishing his morning classes and lunch, Bruce spotted Kathoom flying toward him from the direction of the dormitories.

“You’ve been asleep all morning,” Bruce said. “What were you up to last night?”

“Children shouldn’t pry into the nightlife of adults,” Kathoom quipped. “Some things are best left unsaid.”

“It’s nothing respectable, is it?” Bruce muttered as he headed toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for Professor Lupin’s first lesson.

On the way, he brought up yesterday’s unresolved topic.

“You were way out of line with Cedric,” Bruce said. “I didn’t know your ‘solution’ was so underhanded.”

“I thought it was rather creative,” Kathoom replied smugly. “You can’t face Barbatos with conventional tactics.”

“By the way, what class are you heading to now?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Bruce said.

“Then you’d better skip it.”

Kathoom shook his head. “Lupin’s first lesson won’t suit you.”

“Why not?” Bruce asked.

“He’s bringing in a Boggart. You know what those are, right?”

Bruce nodded. A Boggart was a shape-shifting creature that took on the form of one’s greatest fear.

“Exactly!” Kathoom exclaimed. “It doesn’t take much imagination to guess what a Boggart would turn into for you.”

Bruce didn’t need Kathoom to elaborate.

It would undoubtedly be the corpses of Thomas and Martha Wayne. No matter how much he’d been through, that sight would still devastate him.

And then there was another issue.

“The spell Lupin’s teaching won’t work for you,” Kathoom added. “It’s supposed to make the Boggart transform into something funny.”

“But tell me—what could possibly make the corpses of your parents funny?”

Kathoom shuddered at the thought. That level of dark humor would be unthinkable.

“I’m not skipping,” Bruce said. While he acknowledged that the class might be challenging, he refused to waste a lesson.

“I’ll just come up with an excuse to avoid participating,” he said as they reached the classroom.

—

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was held jointly for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students.

As Kathoom had warned, Professor Lupin had brought in a wardrobe containing a Boggart.

After teaching the students the Riddikulus charm, Lupin invited everyone to take a turn dispelling the creature.

While the other students eagerly lined up, Bruce approached Lupin with a grim expression.

“Professor, I can’t participate in this activity. It’ll be too painful for me,” Bruce said quietly.

Lupin gestured for Gibbon to oversee the class while he led Bruce aside.

“Is something wrong, Bruce?” Lupin asked gently.

“I’m afraid of something tied to painful memories,” Bruce explained. “You might not know my background—”

“I do.”

Lupin raised a hand to stop him.

“Not only do I know your background,” he said softly, “I know far more than that. There’s no need to hide anything from me—didn’t Gordon already tell you?”

Gordon?!

Bruce’s head snapped up, meeting Lupin’s calm gaze.

“You’re Ares?” Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes.

“No, no, I’m still Lupin,” the professor reassured him. “But Ares’ memories are open to me. When he first saw you on the train, he recognized who you were.”

“Bruce Wayne of Gotham City. Am I wrong?”

This left Bruce speechless. He had prepared a careful explanation, but it was now unnecessary.

“And even without Ares’ memories, I know you’re special,” Lupin continued. “Don’t forget—I used to run with Jason, causing no end of trouble for others.”

Bruce had to admit Lupin had a point.

Given Jason’s personality, his request for Bruce to look after Lupin indicated genuine friendship. It wouldn’t be surprising if Jason had revealed Bruce’s story during one of their chats.

“So, your identity isn’t a secret from me,” Lupin said, reassuringly. “But don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. And I doubt Ares would care to, either.”

“Thanks,” Bruce replied. After a pause, he added, “Professor, does Ares know how he ended up in this world?”

Gordon had been clueless, but as a god, Ares might have more insight.

Unfortunately, Bruce was disappointed again.

Lupin shook his head. “Even Ares’ memories don’t have the answer. He doesn’t seem to care about that—instead, he’s been focused on his own plans.”

“And that’s why I wanted to talk to you today.”

“Bruce, I believe that while I was under Ares’ influence, I may have done something irreversible.”

“But I can’t remember what it was.”

“How is that possible?” Bruce asked. “Gordon said your memories remain intact even when your perception changes.”

“That’s true unless the memories are deliberately erased,” Lupin explained with a sigh. “Ares did something he didn’t want even me to know about. He erased those memories, leaving only his initial intentions.”

“Bruce, Ares seems to be preparing for a secret war here at Hogwarts.”

Hearing the term secret war, Kathoom tensed.

Ares isn’t from Marvel. How does he know about Secret Wars?

It only took a moment for Kathoom to realize his mistake. Lupin had meant the phrase literally.

“Even when I become Ares, I’m still fundamentally myself,” Lupin said. “I came to Hogwarts to teach and guide students, and that goal hasn’t changed.”

“But Ares and I have conflicting definitions of what makes a ‘good student.’”

Bruce’s expression darkened.

A god of war’s idea of a good student could only mean one thing: either a prodigy in battle or a bloodthirsty maniac.

“Ares has already chosen his student,” Lupin said grimly. “I don’t know who it is, but someone here at Hogwarts has been influenced by his will.”

“Bruce, I need your help. Keep an eye out for anyone acting strangely, and let me know immediately.”

Bruce nodded. It was a small effort, and he didn’t mind helping.

Relieved, Lupin said, “Let’s stay in touch. Right now, you’re the only student I can trust.”

With that, Lupin returned to the classroom, leaving Bruce standing in the corner, deep in thought.

“Kathoom,” Bruce muttered, “didn’t you say Ares was Wonder Woman’s nemesis and that they fought during World War I?”

“I did,” Kathoom confirmed.

“Then something doesn’t add up.”

Bruce stared at the owl.

“If their battle ended with Wonder Woman victorious, that means Ares didn’t survive past 1918.”

“So how does he know who I am?”

“In 1918, even my grandfather hadn’t been born!”

—

This is a fan translation of 蝙蝠侠的猫头鹰教父 by 巴巴罗萨光年. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!