The seer was odd. Which seemed to be on par for seers. Though this one, Nova, was only a few years older which felt odder. Lily had an image of seers being older women, like her professor, a little dotty, and dressed like a tea cozy. Nova was dotty but it was hard to tell how much of that was because she was a seer and how much was because she was French. Aside from that she didn’t really fit Lily’s ideas. In fact it was a little annoying to Lily to realize she thought Nova rather cool. Her style interesting. She wasn’t sure why it was annoying, it just was. Lily was not ready to admit there was some jealousy there. Both Remus and James, not that it mattered to her what James thought, seemed taken with her. Sirius the only one not. That was an understatement. Sirius and Nova seemed to circle one another, studying each other almost warily. He clearly didn’t trust her while she seemed to not be sure what to make of him. Little comfort to Lily seeing as how Sirius could barely stand her either.
Supposedly Nova had come into town for some special day. A vision had told her where to go and she’d followed it. But she’d taken a keen interest in Remus for some reason. Him and Lily. Though Lily knew why she was of interest. Just like with the divination professor she amplified things for Nova. Which was why she’d been invited to come along tonight. Only her. Too many people would muddle things Nova had said. So the pair of them had taken off to some undisclosed location leaving Lily feeling equal parts anticipation and apprehension. They were half way there when Nova had turned to her with a sad sort of smile. “You’re in love,” she’d declared, “I saw it when I met you.” Lily hadn’t known what to say to that except to soundly deny it. She was not in love. Remus was nice but she was not in love. Nova had shaken her head and said, “Not that one,” when Lily had voiced her thoughts. That was all she’d said leaving Lily to turn it over in her mind just who Nova thought she was in love with.
She was still turning it over when they’d come across the ruins of an old church. Lily was surprised, she hadn’t known this was here. There wasn’t much of it left. Just the exterior walls covered in vines. Around the church was a stone wall complete with a lych-gate. As they passed through it Lily felt a chill, probably just her imagination since Nova had chosen that moment to mention it was only wide enough for a coffin and pallbearers. Curiously despite everything else being overgrown with weeds and vines the path to the church door was clear. The pair of them settled on top of the stone wall around the church and waited. It was so silent Lily felt antsy. But Nova looked as if she were in some sort of trance. Then again Nova seemed to have that look about her often. Still Lily didn’t want to disturb her. They were here to see spirits of those who would soon die, or so Nova had told them all when explaining why she was there. For all Lily knew that took some sort of concentration or ritual.
Rather suddenly Nova seemed to wake back up and slid off the wall. “Do you see them,” she’d asked but Lily couldn’t see anything. All she saw was Nova walking around the old church yard seemingly having conversations with the air. Until she saw him. Nova couldn’t seem to get him to converse but Lily could see him. “I see him,” she whispered drawing closer. He was young with rumpled hair and clothes that looked like a uniform of some sort. But he wasn’t like the ghosts at Hogwarts, he was less defined. She knew he was there but if she saw him passing in the street she wouldn’t recognize him. There was nothing identifying about him other than the fact that she knew he was young. Her age. Which didn’t feel right at all. She watched him pausing, fingers rising to the side of his nose and temple as if he were alive. Lily felt ill watching him stumble forward as if someone pushed him. Nova whispered at her to talk to him as she moved on to someone else, someone Lily couldn’t see.
With her heart beating far too loudly she moved closer. “What’s your name?” He didn’t seem to hear her. Instead he just looked bewildered. Lily couldn’t help wondering if that’s what death looked like for everyone. “Who are you,” she asked moving a touch closer. Instead of answering her he dropped his head into his hands. The gesture made Lily move closer still. Now she saw that there really wasn’t much to him. Yet somehow she still saw a boy near her age, face featureless but a boy nonetheless. He was too young to be facing death within a year. She moved close enough to touch him and felt a cold come over her. He or other spirits were pulling at her energy leaving her chilled as if winter had come suddenly. Somehow she knew that if he passed into the church she’d miss her chance. “Please,” she said softly, hand reaching out to touch what should have been the edge of his sweater. Dread flooded her leaving her feeling even colder. He was using her energy to stay visible.
“Can you tell me your name,” she asked again. This time he turned to face her. It was a shock to see the Gryffindor crest on his sweater. A Hogwarts student. The smell of mint wafted through the air and Lily wasn’t sure if it was coming from him or the church. His clothes were wet as though he’d gotten caught in a shower. He was so real it was hard to remember that this boy wasn’t dead yet. She could see his mussed up hair so clearly. The Gryffindor on his sweater. And yet no face that she could recognize as one of her house mates. This didn’t feel like magic. It made her feel ill. And then he spoke. It was as if his voice was coming from far away. “Prongs.”
“Is that all?” The name felt familiar but she wasn’t placing it.
Despite the lack of detail in his face Lily was certain he closed his eyes. “That’s all there is.”
Before she could work out who he was he fell to his knees. She watched in horror as he had one hand splayed in the dirt, fingers that weren’t there pressing into the ground. It was as if she were watching him die. “He’s dying,” she said distressed. “Not yet,” Nova replied. It was not comforting. In a blink of an eye he was gone. Lily’s breathing was shallow. An icy cold feeing in her heart, grief or regret, maybe both. Prongs. Who could that be?
Suddenly it came to her. A memory of boys laughing after a prank, ‘Nice one, Prongs.’ Everything fit together. He was her age. The Gryffindor crest. The smell of mint. The mussed hair she couldn’t stop staring at. It was James. Only it couldn’t have been. Lily was surprised to find tears on her face. “Why could I see him,” she asked, desperately hoping it was some hallucination. “Non seers only see spirits like this for one of two reasons. You’re his true love or you killed him,” Nova answered far too calmly.
Or both, the thought rose unbidden in her mind. Lily was destined to kill her true love. But it couldn’t be James Potter. It just couldn’t be. No! He was not her true love. If it was one of them it would be Remus not James. And she wouldn’t kill him. ‘Do you hear me, fate,’ she thought, ‘it’s not going to happen!’ As much as she wanted to focus on that thought she couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d just seen James’ spirit die. Even if it wasn’t her, he was still going to die. Lily felt decidedly ill.
