Self-Fulfilling Prophecies
It wasn't hard to be the Lord and Lady Dursley's serving boy. What was hard, he thought, was keeping the magic contained. They told him often enough how grateful he should be, that they were shielding him from Uther's wrath - and he was, truly. But they didn't understand how it liked to jump out of him sometimes, and they didn't understand that he needed training. He didn't either, really, until he met Hagrid who Wasn't A Magician (but could at least teach him what he needed to know) and Hagrid talked about the greatest magician who ever lived, whom Uther had burned.
He first met her in the street market, and he was startled because he had a fairly good knowledge of the people and shop owners and he'd never seen her or her father before. He would have remember. Oh, we would have remembered. Well, anyone could have remembered the patchwork jester's clothing she wore, or the way she jingled with every step, or the strange dead things hanging from a circle around her neck. He would have remembered her cornsilk blonde hair, and her bright, penetrating eyes, and the infectious nature of her smile.
"Penny for a prophecy?" she said, leaning excitedly over the counter, which was spread with all manner of utterly ridiculous objects that surely had no purpose. He tore his eyes away from the shell of a creature that seemed to be made completely of spikes (when his eyes had danced away from her face, aware he was staring) and looked back up.
"You do know this is Camelot," he said, hefting his bag a little higher. "Magic will get you killed."
The grin that spread over her face was secret, and knowing, and just for him. It made his insides do cartwheels. "That's why I don't ask just anyone."
She knew. Somehow, she could see him, see right through him, and she knew, but maybe it wasn't a bad thing because she was offering prophecies? Did that mean she had magic, as well?
She crooked her hands at him and he went, stumbling, until she could whisper in his ear. "I predict you'll meet me at the fallen log, in the woods, just after midnight. I say just after because I'm a little absent-minded and I'll probably be late." He was grinning, he knew he was, he couldn't help himself.
"Not a very big prophecy," he said.
"It's self-fulfilling. Those are the best kind." She grinned a grin of hidden sparkle, peeking out from the surface. "And not a word to anyone, young man. We're herbalists and explorers. Nothing magical about that." But she tapped the side of her nose, and it was all the confirmation he needed.
He nodded once, quickly. He would be there.