Therein lies the problem with Sybill: she tries too hard. Her skill isn’t respected enough to speak for itself so she does her best to portray what she fancies a true Diviner should be. The result is often a little bit bonkers.

Harry’s first class under her tutelage is more of a performance than a lesson and it’s clear from the start that she delights in shock value. Her horrified pronouncement that Harry would meet his end in the not-too-distant future becomes even more interesting when Professor McGonagall reveals that it’s not an unusual occurrence.

It’s unclear whether Sybill truly believes that Harry is doomed – it’s more likely to be a calculating move on her part to ensure she has the attention and respect of her new class.

She’s also hilarious.

'By the way, my dear,’ she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, ‘beware a red-haired man.’

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban



She’s either in tune with some wavelength we don’t fully comprehend or has a secret, excellent sense of humour.

That’s what’s so entertaining about Sybill Trelawney: she comes across almost ethereal as though she’s fluttering on the edges of reality, but she can be sharp, funny and calculating. Yet she’s very defensive and over-sensitive about the sincerity of her talents; she’s so flustered and upset by Umbridge’s interrogation that she turns to the cooking sherry. It’s hard not to feel sorry for her when she’s throwing out increasingly wild and random ‘predictions’ in order to prove her worth. She seems to show her true self when she feels under threat, especially if her gift is under scrutiny. Her dreamy, gentle manner is quickly replaced by a much harsher one and she becomes abrupt and accusatory.

Her relationship with her students is similar; Sybill only really warms to those who show the appropriate amount of admiration and respect for both herself and her subject, and she takes an immediate dislike to logical Hermione. Instead she favours Lavender and Parvati who positively fawn over her, and she blossoms under their attention.

It all comes back to her desire to be recognised. Although she may seem oblivious to what’s going on around her, too busy wrapped up in her tea-leaves and tarot cards, she must be aware of her reputation among staff and students.

Widely thought to be a fraud, Sybill is often met with sarcasm and disbelief from other teachers who find her either unsettling or irritating, and she doesn’t seem to have any real friends. She doesn’t seem too bothered. In fact, she considers herself far superior to her unenlightened colleagues. Perhaps that’s why she keeps herself closeted away in her tower, rarely descending the ladder to dine with others – she’s the ultimate loner by choice.

Not that she minds. Sybill finds comfort in her gift and is often carrying her cards or muttering ominous predictions under her breath when she does deign to venture out into the castle.