Prologue

"Good night, Nellie."

My mother's arms encircled my body, pulling me tight against her chest. I breathed in slightly and inhaled the warm, sugary scent that she always gave off. My father was next, kissing my forehead before drawing the covers up to my chin. He told me goodnight and then gave me a smile before leading my mother out of the room.

I settled into my pillow, moving around a bit to get comfortable. Faint moonlight was streaming through the slits in my curtains, making shapes on my carpet. The wind outside was fierce, blowing around the branches outside and making the shadows dance on the floor.

My cheek rested on top of my teddy bear's head as my eyes fluttered closed. The sound of my parents talking in hushed voices was the last thing I heard before I drifted off.

I was awoken shortly after, bolting upright in bed. My head felt like it was splitting in two. My fingers were clenched so tightly around my bear's neck that it was a wonder the head didn't fall off. I screwed my eyes up against the pain as images flashed behind my eyelids.

It was my parents. They were seated at the kitchen table, holding their wands out to each other. Their free hands gripped each other's. Tears were leaking out of my mother's eyes. My father's face was stoic. Their lips moved in unison.

A flare of green light blinded me and I tumbled off my bed, landing in a heap.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find that I was eyelevel with the crack under my door. I inched closer and peered underneath, seeing two pairs of feet. My mother and father. They weren't in the kitchen. It didn't sound like my mother was crying. In fact, it sounded like she was on the phone.

Satisfied that I was just having a bad dream, I climbed back into bed. Moments later, I was wringing my sheets with my hands as another image overtook my brain.

Two figures sit hunched over in a couple of wooden chairs, a man and a woman. The woman's left hand is interlocked with the man's right. Their other hands dangle off the edge of the table where their heads rest. A thin, slightly bent wand hangs from the man's fingertips; from the woman's, a dark, knobby wand.

A piece of paper gently falls to the kitchen floor, inscribed with words too hastily scribbled to decipher. A shaky hand appears, belonging to another woman, and picks it up.

The woman takes hold of a man's hand, her husband, and leads him down a short hallway to a door. She shoves the paper into her pocket as the man pushes open the door.

Inside, a young girl of around ten is snoring lightly from the bed she's lying on, a stuffed bear tucked under her chin. The man steps forward and pulls back the covers, taking her gently in his arms, as the woman rushes about the room, throwing clothes into a bag.

Shortly after, the trio exits the house, the little girl still sleeping silently.

I rubbed my eyes as it ended. It was like watching a movie, one that seems familiar to you, but that you don't remember ever seeing.

Too tired to figure out what it all meant, I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes. In seconds, I was asleep.

oOoOo

~Six years later~

I tapped the tip of my quill against the desk. Empty parchment rested in front of me. It'd been like that for twenty minutes. I didn't know what to say.

I ran a hand through my dark hair and sucked in a breath. Dipping the quill into my bottle of ink, I scratched out a few words: Dear Sarah and Mark. And then I was stuck again, unable to put my own thoughts into words. All it was supposed to be was a simple thank you letter. Why was this so hard?

I blamed it on the mounting headache that was growing. It always made it hard to think. Better get this done now, before it starts again, I thought. I dipped the quill again and continued.

Dear Sarah and Mark,

Thanks for the new quills. I've really needed more of those lately. They always seem to break in my bag. Yes, my classes are going well. Everyone is very excited that term ends in a few weeks, and so am I. I'll be home before you know it!

Love, Nellie

There. That was all that I really needed to say. I felt bad about lying, but they didn't have to know the real reason I was constantly in need of more quills, did they? Of course, it's happened a lot more this year than it had in all the time I've been in school, so they may suspect something's wrong…

I rolled up the parchment and tossed the ink and quill back into my bag before standing. The letter secure in my hand, I strolled out of the dorm and made my way to the Owlery.

My head was throbbing. I clapped my free hand to my forehead, screwing my face up against the pain. It had never felt that bad before.

Just get to the Owlery. I chanted that over and over again as my pace quickened.

The musty smell of feathers and the quiet hooting of the owls greeted me as I stepped into the tower. My eyes scanned the shelves and rafters, looking for my owl, finally spotting him toward the top. "Nettles," I called.

With a low hoot, he swooped down, landing lightly on my shoulder and holding one leg out for my letter. I tied a thin cord around it, securing the parchment to his foot. Then I ran my fingertips lightly along his brown feathers. His yellow eyes watched me.

I was hit with a sudden burst of agony. My hands flew to my ears, pressing themselves against my head, keeping it from splitting in half. I fell to my knees, startling Nettles and causing him to leave my shoulder to hover in front of my face. After a few moments, he turned away and soared through one of the windows.

Tears were sliding down my cheeks. The pain had never been this bad before, not since I was ten. Usually, it was just enough for me to snap my quill from tightening my grip too much. I could have snapped a tree, as bad as this hurt.

I fell forward onto the dusty floor, curling up into a ball as the images seared into the back of my eyelids.

It was a castle, with towers that stretched toward the sky, high enough that they reached the clouds. Windows were lit all around, making pools of light on the ground. A forest lay nearby, and a lake, and what looked like a Quidditch pitch. A school, maybe?

A coat of arms blazed to the front. A large H was surrounded by a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven. The words draco dormiens nunquam titillandus were laced around it.

It struck a familiar chord, all of it, but I didn't know what it was.

The sound of heavy footfalls brought me back to reality. Madame Maxime was speaking to me, but I couldn't comprehend her words. It didn't help that her accent was thick. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

"Miss Walker?" she asked, once I was okay enough to understand. The headache was quickly fading. "Your owl came to get me. What eez it?"

I sat up, brushing feathers off my uniform and wiping at my eyes before tapping a finger against my forehead. "I had another…"

She nodded in understanding. "What was it?"

"A castle. A really big castle, about the size of our school. Well, I think it was a school, too. The coat of arms had a lion, a raven, a badger, and a snake. I think – " I paused. "I think I'm supposed to go there."

The Headmistress nodded. "You are talking about 'Ogwarts. It eez anuzzer school for magic, een Great Britain. Ze Beauxbatons and ze Durmstrangs will be traveling there next term for ze Triward Tournament. Perhaps we can take you then."

I nodded, although I had no idea what a Durmstrang or a Triwizard Tournament was. But my visions had never been wrong before, so I supposed that meant I was to be enrolled at a different school.

Madame Maxime looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I nevair zot Beauxbatons was your true 'ome. You nevair zeemed to like it very much. 'Ogwarts will be good for you."

I nodded again, because I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't believe it. One massive headache, a vision, and a short conversation, and I was to be moved to a new school?

A large part of me was excited, but a smaller, more reasonable side had a question: Should I tell them I'm a Seer?