AT FIRST SIGHT, james potter

prologue

Love! A truly glorious word, in the opinion of Celestia Kim, for how could it not be! The excitement of secret glances, whispered gossip, and fluttering lashes were far greater than any joy that could be experienced by any other method, and of that, Celestia was sure. Love was like a movie — something Celestia could watch through the television screen, something she could observe with eager eyes. Every glance, every whisper, every small blush was privy to Celestia's eyes and she how she adored that point of view. It made her giddy, as if she was the one in love, watching the couples in the school get together with cute confessions under the summer air.

Celestia knew every single couple in Hogwarts, whether or not they knew of their own coupling. Celestia knew she should let life take its course, but she really couldn't help it, truly! After all, how could she simply let Dorcas and Marlene think that they were both just friends? How could she allow Narcissa and Lucius think their relationship was only one of convenience, when she could see how Narcissa would soon pine for his glances, would look so adoringly at him as she secretly wished for a kiss?

No, Celestia was sure that allowing such mutual pining, allowing such obscuring of true feelings when Celestia herself knew of the success of these couples would be a sin. It would be sin, wouldn't it! Celestia could see from the moment she met these people of their futures. Why, with a simple brush of her fingertips, she had seen visions of Dorcas's confession to Marlene in the Astronomy tower, she had seen the anguish of Narcissa as she desperately confessed her love to Lucius, she had seen images of happily married couples and cute children's waddling around homes.

To act upon these visions, to ensure that these couples were able to make it to their preordained future was simply Celestia's duty, of course! And act upon them she did, planting flowers among the astronomy tower, planning clandestine rendezvous, and planting small, tiny seeds of attraction between the couples she favored. Who needed Cupid, when Celestia was there, her arrows of love tied to the red string of fate? And unlike Cupid, Celestia's aim never missed — every single couple she had set up, every date she masterminded, every secret admirer letter she forged had always gone to plan, and always led to another happy couple gracing the halls of the castle with their happy sighs and giggles.

All of them, of course, but one.

From the very first brush of her fingers against James Potter's robes, she had seen his future, bright and vivid. A warm, inviting home, filled with yellow lights illuminating the room. A small broomstick, zooming around as an infant chased it, hair messy and spiky, eyes bright green. It giggled as it ran around, and hands caught it just before it tripped across the carpet floor. A hearty laugh, and the vision centered on James, adams apple bobbing as he stared at a woman with flaming red hair, and bright green eyes. Lily Evans, now an adult, stared back with a look of loving admonishment. She spoke, and the words were garbled, as if they were underwater, but if there was one thing that couldn't be mistaken, it was the look that the couple shared. Pure love, emanating in warm waves from their bodies as they smiled, laughed, and touched.

On that fateful day, of their first Herbology class in first year, Celestia Kim found her new goal: bring together Lily Evans and James Potter.

But as the years passed, as Celestia forged love letters and sent chocolates from a not so secret admirer, Lily only seemed to dislike James more and more. She refused the chocolates, burned love letters, and berated him for doing such embarrassing displays of affection (of which James was incredibly confused about) (Celestia kind of felt bad. But not enough!).

Alas! All had not gone to plan. But Celestia was not the type of person to give up at such a small setback, and so she continued. She persisted and persisted and persisted, her confusion compounding after each failure of her attempts.