Winona woke up to Fred and George letting out loud whoops of excitement. She sat up from where she'd been dozing in Fred's bed, yawning as she scrubbed at her eyes.
"Shit – sorry, Win," said George, the first to notice her wake.
Fred whirled around, grinning at her widely. "We just finished the potion!"
"Just now?" she asked, voice thick with sleep. "Doesn't it only have a four-hour brew time?"
Lee appeared, having been bent over to dig in his trunk for something or other. "Well, we had to start over more than once," he told her, shooting a pointed glare at Fred, who grinned sheepishly.
"You know potions aren't my strong suit," he argued, and Winona couldn't help but smile.
"So what now, then?" she asked, reluctantly lifting the covers she was wrapped in, pressing her feet to the floor.
"We're gonna get changed out of our jammies and head down to the goblet," Fred told her eagerly.
"Alright, I'll meet you in the common room," she said, lifting her hands above her head as she walked to the door, stretching her back until it popped.
"You're not going to take the potion with us?" Lee called after her.
Winona turned back around, eyebrow cocked. "Why would I do that?"
"So you can enter the Tournament?"
"But I don't want to enter the Tournament," she replied, just as condescending and slow.
Lee looked like he'd been personally offended by her words, and even the twins seemed surprised. "Seriously, Win?" asked George as though waiting for her to change her mind. "Eternal glory," he reminded her seriously. "You aren't the least bit tempted?"
"Glory's not my thing," she waved her hand dismissively.
"But a thousand Galleons prize money," said Lee importantly. "Imagine what you could do with that."
And for a split second she did imagine, seeing herself buying a studio space somewhere in London, maybe Diagon Alley, and spending her days painting to her heart's content. But it was an unrealistic fantasy, and she shook her head to clear it.
Lifting her shoulders in a shrug, she told them in no uncertain terms, "I think I'd rather just be a cheerleader to one of you tossers, anyway. You'll need all the help you can get, particularly from someone like me."
"Gonna use your inner eye to see the future, then?" Lee snorted, loud and derogative.
Winona was used to it, merely rolling her eyes, the words like water off a duck's back. "Something like that," she replied dryly. Fred reached out and slapped Lee upside the head, and Winona shot him a grateful smile. "I'll meet you downstairs," she said, shooting them a halfhearted wave before pushing out into the corridor and making a beeline for her own dorm.
The girls were all already up, pottering around the dorm brushing their hair and getting ready for the day.
Alicia was the first to look up, eyebrows shooting up her face in surprise at seeing her there. "Well, well, well," she said slyly, "look who finally reappeared. Not doing the walk of shame, are we?"
Winona snorted in exasperation. "Please," she scoffed. "I only fell asleep in the boys' dorm."
Angelina was sitting on her bed, feet on the covers as she tied her laces. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, something that didn't go unnoticed by Winona. "That's against the rules, you know," she said, the words layered with disapproval.
Winona glanced back, unimpressed. "I'm well aware," she told her dryly, eyebrow cocked as she tried to figure out why Angelina cared. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen asleep in the boys' dorms, and it most likely wouldn't be the last. "What's with the attitude, Ange?"
Angelina hesitated in her answer, and Winona gave her space to figure it out, placing her bag on the end of her bed and digging in her trunk for a pair of relatively clean jeans and a red teeshirt, turning her back on her friends to change.
But Angelina never got her words together. In the end it was Hope who broke the tense quiet. "She's just jealous," she said, the words careless.
"I am not," Angelina argued immediately, but she sounded a little too defensive to be believable. Her friends' silence was enough to tell her what they thought, and she glared at them angrily. "Even if I was, I'd have a right to be. Fred's my boyfriend, not yours," she said sharply.
Winona's features pulled into a frown. "What?" she asked, bewildered by the words. "Ange, Fred's my best friend," she said, slow and steady, like she were talking to a child. "I don't want him to be my boyfriend."
"Well, you're certainly not acting like it," Angelina sniffed, committing to her ire.
Now properly dressed, Winona didn't bother slipping on socks, just shoving her bare feet into her sneakers and snatching her bag back up. "Whatever, Ange," she said, aware how condescending she sounded, but wholly uncaring. "Come find me when you've decided to grow up."
Angelina glared at her, but Winona just stomped from the room without even stopping to brush her hair.
The twins and Lee were obediently waiting in the common room, and her irritation must have been obvious on her face, because the first words out of Fred's mouth were, "What happened?"
But she didn't want to go into it, grinding her teeth for a moment before forcing a smile onto her lips and saying, "Just stupid girl stuff. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."
Fred didn't looked convinced, but it was enough for George and Lee, who were already bounding towards the portrait hole. "Time's a-wasting, Freddie," said his twin eagerly. "Let's do this!"
Fred switched from concerned to eager in the drop of a hat, bounding after the others like Tigger on crack. Winona smiled, finding it didn't come as difficult as she'd expected, and hurried after them.
They ran into Peeves on the way down to the entrance hall, but the twins barely spared the poltergeist a passing glance. Peeves squawked in indignation at being ignored, but there were far more important things to be focusing on.
"Hurry up, Win!" shouted Fred, noticing that Winona was still several steps behind them.
Winona pushed herself faster, bag banging against her hip, sure to leave a bruise. She took the stairs a little more carefully than them, and as soon as the people in the hall saw the twins, they burst into a smattering of excited cheers. The twins did a pre-emptive victory lap, soaking up the school's fanfare.
Winona came to a stop beside Harry, Ron and Hermione, bumping her cousin on the shoulder in silent hello. He smiled at her, but was stopped from saying anything in return as George and Fred appeared in front of them, the latter leaning in to wink at Harry cheerfully. "Done it," he said in a triumphant whisper, eyes alight with the thrill of the mischief. "Just taken it."
"What?" asked Ron dumbly.
"The Ageing Potion, dung brains," Fred retorted with an exasperated roll of his eyes.
"Just one drop each," added George, looking about ready to lay an egg in his excitement. "We only need to be a few months older."
"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee interjected giddily, and Winona turned her head enough to share a smirk with Harry.
"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione, doubt and disapproval warring for pride of place on her face. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this." She suddenly turned to Winona, a disappointed frown on her lips. "And you're condoning this?"
Winona snorted, and even Harry and Ron looked amused. "I helped them brew the potion," she said fearlessly, ignoring the disapproving frown Hermione sent her way.
"She uses the word 'help' very loosely," Fred interjected, a grin on his lips and laughter in his eyes. "She sat in the corner and sketched until she fell asleep on top of her work."
Winona rolled her eyes. "Will you just get this show on the road, already?" she pressed, nudging Fred in the direction of the glowing flames in the goblet.
"Right," said George with a sure nod. "Let's do this."
"Ready?" Fred asked to the other two, so eager he was bouncing on his toes like a lunatic. "C'mon, then — I'll go first —"
Winona remained beside Harry, watching with amusement and just the slightest hint of concern as Fred strolled confidently up to the age line. It was a thin gold line, seeming to have been drawn onto the stone in a perfect circle around the cup.
Fred walked right up to it, then paused at the edge. Winona rolled her eyes in fond exasperation as he waited until every last eye in the entire entrance hall was on him before stepping dramatically over the line.
Nothing immediately happened, and Winona was genuinely surprised that it had worked. George gave a loud yell of triumph, bounding over the line with him, but barely a full second passed before there was a loud sizzling sound, and both of them were hurled violently back over the age line.
Winona let out a yelp, gripping the strap of her bag and rushing to their sides. Before she could reach them, there was a loud pop and where before there had been clean-shaven skin, the twins now had long white beards sprouting from their faces.
Winona paused in her haste to reach them, eyes wide with shock.
Laughter began to ring out in the hall, growing louder by the second. The twins both sat up from where they'd been sprawled across the stone beneath them, glancing at one another in surprise, only to break out in loud, amused snickers as they caught sight of one another's new facial hair.
"I did warn you," said a deep, familiar voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He looked at Fred and George, his milky blue eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."
The crowd kept laughing, and Winona rolled her eyes, crossing the space to the twins and holding out both hands, helping them to their feet.
"Come on then, you ridiculous old men," she said in a playfully prim voice, gripping their arms once they were standing and directing them back towards the stairs. "Let's go get these beards dealt with."
Lee followed after them, struggling to walk in a straight line with how wildly he was laughing. "I dunno, I think I like it," said George as they walked, reaching up to stroke a hand down his new facial hair. "I think it makes me look distinguished. Don't you agree, Fred?"
"Yeah, I quite like it too. Maybe we'll be able to get Rosmerta will sell us some firewhiskey," Fred said eagerly.
Winona rolled her eyes fondly. "Why bother buying it, as opposed to just nicking it like you usually do?"
The twins snapped their fingers at her. "That's why we keep you around, Andrews," said Fred around a grin. "You're the brains of the operation."
Winona just rolled her eyes again, gripping his arm and forcing him to keep walking. The Hospital Wing was empty apart from Summers and Fawcett, just as Dumbledore had said. Madam Pomfrey was hovering over the latter, whose eyes were watering slightly with embarrassment from the beard hanging from her jaw.
"Morning, Poppy," said Fred in a loud, confident voice that made Winona duck her head in exasperation. Madam Pomfrey glanced over, an irritated scowl on her face that merged into frustration when she saw who it was and why they were there.
"More of you?" the healer asked in a dry, unimpressed voice. "Although, considering your track record, I really shouldn't be surprised."
The four friends wandered further into the room, Fred and George each hopping onto a bed along the far wall. Lee and Winona dragged over chairs to sit in between the two beds, laying across their seats haphazardly, like they owned the place.
They were only there for a few minutes, talking animatedly about the pros and cons of growing their own facial hair, before Angelina walked in, a frown on her face.
"Oh, hey Ange!" called Lee loudly, and their friend hurried over to Fred's side.
"Harry told me what happened," she said, a disapproving scowl pulling at her lips. "Not very clever, was it? Of course Dumbledore wouldn't be tricked by an ageing potion."
Fred shrugged, uncaring. "At least it was a laugh," he replied easily, but Angelina didn't smile. Her eyes were on Winona, who had her legs thrown up thoughtlessly onto Fred's bed, her feet in his lap.
"Winona," she said in tense greeting. "Not surprised to find you here." Suddenly feeling keenly unwelcome, Winona awkwardly removed her feet from Fred's bed, placing them firmly on the floor.
"Everything alright?" George asked awkwardly, sensing the sudden frostiness in the room.
"Fine," said Angelina and Winona at the same time, but that just made it all the more unbelievable.
She wanted to ask Angelina again exactly what her problem was, but it was pointless, because really, she already knew.
Angelina was jealous of her relationship with Fred. Winona couldn't help that they were close, and was beginning to feel attacked by Angelina's constant disapproval. It was like she couldn't even say hello to her best friend without Angelina making it into something it wasn't. Because there wasn't any reason to be jealous. There really, really wasn't… Right?
Her thoughts suddenly flew to only the day before; the way her skin had tingled under Fred's touch, and the way her chest had felt full and warm as he held her close, like she were something precious to him. Like she were everything.
"What do you all think you're doing here?" came Madam Pomfrey's voice, sharp and stern. "I'm removing their beards, not treating a life-or-death injury. All of you out – except one, if they insist on support."
Lee pushed himself to his feet, stepping towards the door. "Coming, Ange?" he asked, not realising the awful misstep he'd just taken.
He'd automatically assumed Winona would be the one to stay, like she were more worthy of it than Angelina. She bristled at the words, brows pulled down in a frown, the twins wisely keeping their mouths shut, eyeing the two girls warily. There was an unmistakable glint of challenge in Angelina's eyes. Like the next few moments were some kind of battle, or test.
Swallowing, Winona stood slowly to her feet. "Uh, I'll come with you, Lee," she said, the words stilted and awkward. "I'm starving anyway," she added in an attempt to keep things lighthearted, but could tell nobody was convinced.
From the corner of her eye she saw Angelina take her vacated seat, but resolutely refused to look. Winona swallowed, tossing a halfhearted wave to the twins before scurrying out the door after Lee.
"That was weird," her friend said as they began to amble their way down towards the Great Hall for breakfast. "Want to tell me why that was weird?" he pressed when she didn't speak.
"Love to," she replied, arms crossed over her chest. "But first someone's going to have to tell me."
Lee could sense she wanted to change topics, and instead he began to ramble off complaints about his old sneakers, hopping on one foot in an attempt to show her the hole at his toes.
She was listening absently, nodding at all the appropriate times but not really listening to anything he was saying. Her thoughts were a swirl of activity, trying to piece together what was happening between her, Fred and Ange.
There was nothing for Angelina to be jealous of; she knew that logically. She and Fred were best mates, nothing more. So what if she was beginning to become aware of Fred's physical appeal? She was only human. And so what if she sometimes got caught up in his bright blue eyes, or became distracted tracing the smattering of freckles on his cheeks, or felt warm at the cadence of his familiar voice or his bright, uninhibited laughter?
"Winnie?" Lee asked, and her eyes snapped to him guiltily, unsurprised that he'd noticed her distraction.
"Uh, I forgot something," she lied fluidly.
Lee blinked in confusion. "What?" he asked, but she was already leaving, walking backwards with an apologetic look pasted onto her face. "I thought you said you were hungry!" he called to her as she got further away.
"I'll see you later!" she called back, spinning on her heel and walking briskly in the opposite direction.
She just wanted to go find a quiet corner and lose herself in smears of colour and the scratch of her pencil against parchment, but something told her that wasn't such a good idea. She'd be sitting in silence, nothing to distract her from the building panic, the sensation threatening to choke her.
She needed a distraction more than anything else. She needed something to take her mind off her terrifying thoughts, plunging her back into familiar territory.
The answer came to her suddenly and she changed her path, turning in the direction of the entrance hall. Groups of students were still clustered around the Goblet of Fire, whispering amongst themselves as every now and again someone would stroll up to it and slip a piece of paper with their name scrawled on it into the flames.
Winona was relieved to find Jeremiah standing against the wall beside his younger brother Theodore, the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson, and the ever-scowling Blaise Zabini.
She hesitated nearby, making an effort to look casual as she stared in his general direction. It took a few moments, but finally he caught her eye, his own narrowed in suspicion that turned to satisfaction as she subtly jerked her head at the doorway leading deeper into the castle.
Once she was sure he got the message, Winona turned and wandered into the corridor. She didn't hear his footsteps after her, but she somehow knew he was following.
Making sure nobody was around to see them, she slipped into one of the empty, abandoned classrooms that sat along the first floor, one they'd used plenty of times in the past. She was only waiting maybe a minute before the door creaked open and Jeremiah appeared, shutting it after him and locking it with a flick of his wand.
The pair paused for a brief moment, eyeing one another carefully, before he swooped in and pressed a bruising kiss to Winona's lips. She revelled in the way he gripped her, hard and indelicate. His musky scent invaded her senses, and she stroked her tongue against his as he pressed her back against the wall.
He pulled back once he'd gotten her shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the side. "What's the occasion?" he asked, panting just a little from the lack of oxygen before ducking back down to her throat, raking his teeth against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.
"I need a distraction," she admitted, untucking his shirt and pulling it up and off so she could drag her fingernails down his back. He pressed against her, growling into her neck, fingers leaving marks against her hips.
"Well, you're in luck," he said, voice husky and deep, and she pressed her chest against his, the fabric of her bra scraping his skin. "I'm excellent at distractions."
"That's what I'm counting on," she replied breathlessly.
She tried to lose herself in Jeremiah's touch, tried to focus on him and him alone. But unbidden flashes of fiery red hair and luminous blue eyes flickered behind her closed lids. Growling with frustration, she yanked Jeremiah's face back up to hers, kissing him with renewed vigour as he blindly worked on their undergarments.
And finally, once he was inside her, she was able to forget about Fred and the lingering sensation of his innocent touches. Jeremiah took her like he owned her, and she lost herself to sensation, coming with Jeremiah's name on her lips.
He pulled away first, barely waiting to catch his breath before he was tugging his clothes back on over his body. "That was the best you've ever been," he told her in what had to be the most fucked-up compliment she was ever likely to receive.
She didn't respond, pulling her jeans back on in a daze.
She'd hoped being with Jeremiah would fix her, make her feel better. But instead it had done the opposite. In the moment it had been distracting, a suitable diversion from her confusing, swirling thoughts, but now that it was over she felt nothing but disgusting and numb.
"See you, Lion," said Jeremiah playfully – almost like they were friends – as he unlocked the door, cracking it open to peer out into the corridor before slipping out himself.
"Yeah," Winona whispered after him weakly, pulling her shirt back on over her bra then curling her arms around her own waist in a poor imitation of a hug. "See you."
Winona was the first of her friends to arrive at the Great Hall that evening. She eyed the Goblet of Fire where it stood by Dumbledore's empty chair, then took her seat at the Gryffindor table, waiting in silence for the others to reappear.
Alicia, Katie, George and Lee came in as a group, moving immediately to her side once they spotted her there. "Been looking for you," said George, taking his usual place at her side. "Where've you been?"
"Just by the lake," she told him, and it wasn't a lie. After her shameful tryst with Jeremiah, she'd wandered down to a tree by the lake, settling herself in the branches and contenting herself with drawing until the sky began to drizzle. She'd made a dash back to the castle, then went down to the kitchens for a cup of hot chocolate, wasting time in front of the fires down there until it was time for the Halloween feast. "What about you?" she asked, eager to have the focus off of herself.
"Lee and I spent all afternoon on the essay for Flitwick," said Alicia with a groan, "and we're still only about halfway done."
"Oh, I forgot about that," Winona murmured, wincing at the reminder. She'd wasted away the day, not even giving a second thought to the homework she had waiting up in her dorm.
The others didn't seem to sense her distress over the matter, laughing gently at her expense. "Typical Winnie," sang George around an amused grin, and she gave a weak smile in return. "Try not to completely fail the class, yeah?" he added playfully.
Winona rolled her eyes. "I'll do my best," she said, the words lacking their usual sarcasm, but before anyone could pick up on it they were distracted by the appearance of Fred and Angelina, taking their seats opposite Winona and sending the group smiles.
"Where've you two been, then, eh?" asked Lee suggestively.
"None of your business, Jordan," retorted Fred, a frown marring his face. The others picked up on the expression almost immediately.
"Everything okay?" George asked his twin quietly, leaning over the table so he could be heard.
"Yeah," said Fred, "it's nothing."
Winona looked over to unexpectedly meet Fred's eyes. The sight of him sent a thrill through her, one she would deny to her dying breath, and she glanced self-consciously over at Angelina, who was scowling like she'd just drunk a glass of spoiled milk.
Uncomfortable, Winona looked away, turning her attention to the food that had suddenly appeared in front of their faces. She piled mini meat pies onto her plate, relieved when George and Katie sucked her into a conversation about who they thought would be the Hogwarts Champion.
Dinner was a slow affair, and it seemed like an eternity before their plates were finally cleaned of food and Dumbledore was standing to his feet to begin announcing the Champions.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," their Headmaster began, deep voice reverberating around the Great Hall. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he gestured to the door behind the staff table, one through which Winona had never been — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
Dumbledore dimmed the lights, leaving them in a state of semidarkness. It only made the Goblet of Fire that much brighter, and Winona inched forwards on her seat, eager for the show to begin.
"Any second," Lee whispered, excitement clear upon his face.
And he was right. Barely two heartbeats passed before the flames within the magical goblet turned a deep, glowing red. It began to spark, like someone had set off fireworks within, then out shot a tongue of flame, a charred piece of parchment fluttering in the air.
Dumbledore plucked it from the air in surprisingly nimble fingers, clutching it tightly and holding it out so he could properly read it.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
A booming cheer swept the Great Hall, and Winona clapped too, watching with vague curiosity as Krum stood from his place at the Slytherin table and slouched his way up to the staff table and into the chamber beyond.
The cheers and chatter had barely even stopped before another flash of flame darted from the goblet, a second strip of parchment fluttering towards Dumbledore's outstretched hand.
"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"
The beautiful Beauxbatons girl from the night before stood and gracefully made her way into the chamber after Krum.
Silence settled over the Hall, the entire school in knots of hope and anxiety, waiting to see who their Champion would be. Despite the strange new tension between herself and Angelina, Winona sincerely hoped her friend was called. She deserved it, and Winona knew that if it was her, she'd have been able to handle whatever the Tournament threw at her.
With a flash of red, the final piece of parchment was thrust from the flames, and Dumbledore plucked it from the air, holding it out and proclaiming in a loud, supportive voice that, "the Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"
The cheers from the Hufflepuff table were so loud that Winona began to get a headache. Cedric Diggory smiled charmingly from where he stood, walking to the staff table and disappearing out after the other chosen two.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed after a long few minutes of nothing but the Hufflepuff's tumultuous cheers. But Winona was distracted, her extra senses prickling with breathless urgency. She gasped, the sound quiet but carrying to George, who sat close on her left.
"Win?" he whispered, and without thinking she reached for him, gripping his arm tightly.
"Well, we now have our three champions," Dumbledore was saying from the podium, but to Winona's ears it might as well have been pure gibberish. "I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"
Dumbledore cut himself off suddenly, and there was no question as to why. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again, and with a bright shower of sparks it spat out a final piece of charred, ripped parchment.
If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost see the future possibilities spread out before her like a map; but they were fuzzy and out of focus, like she were viewing it through foggy lenses. From somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear the sound of a dragon roaring and wondered what that had to do with anything.
"No," she whispered, just knowing what Dumbledore was going to say. She could see it now, and was angry at herself for not seeing it sooner, for not preventing it. She'd been so caught up in her own problems, too distracted by her own drama. She hadn't been looking. "No," she said again, the word sharp and forceful, like if she was stern enough the reality of the situation might change.
"Win?" Fred whispered urgently from across the table, but she didn't look away from Dumbledore. And when he spoke, Winona was the least surprised person in the entire Hall.
"Harry Potter."
Winona turned to look at Harry, pulse beating in her ears. He was utterly stunned, eyes wide and full of pure, unadulterated confusion. Nobody clapped, but everybody began to whisper, the low buzz of noise growing in the Great Hall like an oncoming tsunami.
"I didn't put my name in," said Harry weakly, his voice only just carrying to where Winona sat, full of trepidation. "You know I didn't."
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. Winona began to rise from her seat. She wasn't going to just let Harry walk up there alone, wasn't going to let this – whatever this was – just happen.
But George's hand gripped her own, forcefully tugging her back down beside him. Harry met her eyes as he passed and gave just the faintest shake of his head, silently telling her to stay put. Her every instinct told her to follow him, to put a stop to whatever was happening, but she could feel the control slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.
Harry disappeared into the next chamber, and there was a moment of quiet, only a few whispers filling the Hall. Then Dumbledore calmly bid them all a brisk goodnight and left the room, a majority of the teachers following him into the chamber the four champions had entered.
The moment they were gone, the entire Hall was in an uproar. The Gryffindors were tied between being thrilled one of their own was in the Tournament and furious that Harry had somehow hoodwinked the Goblet and entered even though he was underage.
"How'd he do it, though?" George was asking anyone who would listen.
"At least we've got a Gryffindor in the running, now," said Angelina eagerly.
"Coming, Win?" asked Fred, the only one to have noticed that Winona hadn't stood up with the rest of them. She remained in her seat, staring at the table in front of her blankly.
"I'm gonna wait here for Harry," she told him distractedly.
"Come up to the common room, Win," said George enticingly. "Party's on us."
"The party's always on you," she replied.
She could feel the twins doing their telepathy-thing above her head, but she didn't care, spinning in her seat to set her eyes on the door to the side chamber where Harry was awaiting his fate. "Want us to wait with you?" George finally asked as only a few stragglers remained in the Hall.
"No, don't be stupid," she replied, stare never leaving the room at the top of the Hall, even as she batted them away with her hand. "Go, start the celebrations. We'll meet you up there."
And they listened, leaving her alone and staring up at the door with such concentration it was like she were trying to make Harry materialise there.
She was waiting awhile, at least twenty minutes passed before there was any movement at all. The first people to appear were Madame Maxime and the Delacour girl, speaking in rapid-fire French as they walked from the Hall without so much as a glance at the lone Gryffindor girl in the room.
Next were Karkaroff and Krum, both of them striding out without saying a word, although Krum sent her a curious look as he passed, obviously wondering what she was still doing there.
Finally the one person she wanted to see was walking through the doors. Winona saw Diggory was with him. They weren't speaking to one another, but at the same time she didn't sense any animosity.
"Winnie," breathed Harry upon seeing her sat there, the only person in the whole school to wait for him. His shoulders were hunched with the stress of the evening.
Winona stood to her feet, hurrying to his side and joining them in the walk towards the entrance hall. "So, tell me – just between us," said Diggory as they walked. "How did you get your name in?"
"I didn't," replied Harry without pause. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."
"Ah…okay," murmured Diggory in the voice of someone maybe humouring a small child.
"If he says he didn't do it, then he didn't do it," Winona snapped at Diggory, hands balled into tight fists at her sides.
Diggory looked surprised by the strength of her reaction, and he quickly held up his hands in surrender. "Yeah, of course," he said, but she could tell he was just keeping the peace. Typical Hufflepuff. There was a beat of awkward silence as they came to a stop in the entrance hall."Well, see you, then," Diggory said to Harry stiltedly. Her cousin gave a vague nod of his head, and Diggory wandered in the general direction of the Hufflepuff common room.
By silent agreement, Harry and Winona stood perfectly still, listening to the sounds of Diggory's footsteps as they eventually petered off before disappearing into nothing all together.
Once she was sure they were alone, Winona turned to her cousin, gathering him up in her biggest hug to date. Harry gripped her back, holding tightly as he soaked up her unwavering support.
"I didn't do it, Winnie," he told her, the words spoken into her shoulder. She noted distantly that he was the same height as her now, and held him that little bit tighter. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire," he swore, voice shaking just a tad, which she knew to be from fear. Fear she wouldn't believe him.
"I know," she promised, soothing a hand down his shaggy black hair before pulling out of the hug and gently gripping his shoulders. "Hey, I know this wasn't you," she said again, making sure he understood how sincere she was being. "Anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot who doesn't know you from a bar of soap," she told him with a half-smirk that he did his best to return, failing miserably.
He just looked tired, she found. The type of tired that left rings under your eyes, and made your whole face droop towards the ground. He was far too young to be looking so exhausted, but then again, so was she.
"Come on, Boy-Wonder," she said, folding her arm around his shoulders and gently leading him in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "The twins have a party already going," she told him apologetically. "But if you just wanna escape up to bed, I'll handle it."
"Thanks," he said, his voice so small and sad. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Winona still squeezing him tightly, a gentle reminder that she was still there, and that she was never going to leave. "You didn't see this happening?" Harry asked abruptly, and Winona was so surprised by the question that she pulled back, staring at him in shock.
"Of course not," she promised, then frowned guiltily. "I don't know why I didn't… I'm sorry, Harry. If I'd just seen it––"
"Moody said someone must have entered me on purpose," he said quietly, expression pulled down in thought. He wasn't mad at her, not like she was at herself. "He said that they would have had to have been really powerful, and that they might have done it because…they want me dead."
"That's not gonna happen, Harry," she told him, no hint of uncertainty in her tone. "Nothing's going to happen to you," she promised him. Because she wouldn't let it. She'd die before anything evil so much as touched Harry.
She'd spent her whole childhood as an orphan, her whole life thinking she was alone, that it was just her against the entire, cruel world. And then she meets this kid, small and a complete trouble magnet, and suddenly she has a family. She has a cousin, and a father. And she's not alone anymore. Now she has people to care for, and be cared for by.
She could tell Harry wasn't so sure he believed her, that he wasn't in any danger, and to be honest, it wasn't something she could actually promise – and they both knew it. Well-meaning as they were, the words were empty.
"I'll keep an eye out," she added meaningfully. He nodded, knowing she didn't mean just on the physical plane. "You're not going through this Tournament alone, you hear?"
"Yeah," he whispered. "I know."
But she wasn't so sure he did.
The Fat Lady wasn't alone in her frame. An older, streaky looking witch was perched beside her, and the both of them were staring down at Harry keenly.
"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady slyly, "Violet's just told me everything. You've just been chosen as school champion, then?"
"Balderdash," said Harry dully.
"It most certainly isn't!" cried the unfamiliar witch, offended.
"No, no, Vi, it's the password," the Fat Lady told her soothingly, then reluctantly opened the portrait hole for the cousins to climb through. The moment the door was opened the pair were hit with a tsunami of noise, so loud it nearly threw them backwards.
Hands gripped them, and Winona quickly thrust out a hand, gripping hold of Harry's shirt, stubbornly refusing to let go. She'd sworn to get him up the stairs to bed, and that was exactly what she was going to do.
"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred as he appeared in front of them, eyes alight with excitement and maybe a touch of firewhiskey.
"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George, materialising beside his twin.
"I didn't," Harry tried to tell them, but his protests were swallowed by the crowd. "I don't know how-"
Angelina appeared, gripping Harry's shoulders, a crazed glint to her dark eyes. "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor-" she was babbling happily.
"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" added Katie in something of a shriek.
"We've got food, Harry, come and have some-" said George eagerly.
"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast-" Harry tried to say, but Winona knew it was time to step in.
"Alright, boys and girls! The Champion needs a good night's rest!" she shouted to the gathered crowd, and they all gave childish groans of disappointment.
"You suck, Andrews!" shouted a voice from the back of the crowd.
"Only in your dreams, Larsen!" she shouted back without batting an eyelid, and the seventh year sat back down meekly. "Go now, while you still can," she muttered to Harry, who sent her a smile thick with gratitude before escaping up the stairs as the others were distracted.
The party continued on even in Harry's absence, but Winona wasn't in the mood. Her mind was swirling with her worries over Harry, her doubt on whether or not Moody was right. Was someone out to kill Harry? Again? Couldn't the kid catch a damn break?
She decided to head back up to her dorm to sketch and try and get her mind off of her concerns, and was just on the first step of the stairs when a hand gripped her arm. She spun around, hardly surprised to find Fred grinning back at her. She noted idly that with her on the step, they were the same height, and tried not to analyse why that made her heart race.
"You're not staying?" he asked over the music filling every nook and cranny of the common room.
"Not in the mood to party," she shrugged.
"We managed to scrounge up some firewhiskey…" he sang enticingly.
She smiled, rolling her eyes fondly. "The last thing I need right now is alcohol," she told him flatly.
He pouted dramatically, but it only made her smile. "Suit yourself," he said with a heavy sigh, and she escaped back up to her dorm, relieved to find it empty of everyone except Hope, who was already crashed out on her bed.
She didn't want to have to deal with the lingering tension that for some reason remained between herself and Angelina. She just wanted to curl up in her bed and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
She'd just changed into her pyjamas when there was a tentative knock at the door. Moving over to it so as to not wake Hope, Winona pulled it open, glancing at the person beyond.
Hermione stood with a frown on her face, her untameable hair even more wild than usual. Winona slipped from the room, gently closing the door after her. "Hope's a light sleeper," she explained over the noise of the party still in full-force downstairs. If she listened closely enough, she thought she could hear the sounds of the twins trying to set up a game of limbo. "What's up?" she asked Hermione clearly.
"Have you seen Harry?" the fourth-year asked, hands twisted together anxiously. "I wanted to stay with him, but Ron wanted to come back up here, and I didn't know how long he'd be…"
"I walked back up with him," Winona told her. "He's okay, but..." she hesitated, not wanting to say more, but Hermione's earnest expression urged her on, "but I'm worried he won't be for long."
"You think he's in danger?" Hermione asked shortly, lips pressed together in concern.
"I think that while the Gryffindors are impressed, the rest of the school's gonna have it out for him," she admitted quietly. "He's gonna need you and Ron more than ever." At the mention of Ron, Hermione's eyes flickered away. "What?" Winona asked, suddenly tense.
Whatever is was, Hermione seemed reluctant to tell her. But Winona narrowed her eyes into a glare until the younger student broke and gave in. "It's just that, well, Ron's not really taking this whole thing very well," she revealed uncomfortably.
"Not taking what very well?"
"Harry being named the fourth Champion."
"What's not to take well?" Winona asked, admittedly a little sharper than intended, and Hermione winced.
"From what I've gathered so far…" she began slowly, "he's just a little jealous."
And suddenly Winona knew what she meant. Harry was always the one in the spotlight, and on top of that, Ron had five brothers. Of course this would grind his gears more than anything else. But even so, despite understanding, Winona's loyalty was to Harry – not Ron.
"I understand. Really, I do," she said, voice thankfully holding steady. "But the last thing Harry needs right now is for his best friend to have him on the outs over something he couldn't even control."
"I know," Hermione said, reaching up to tug at a wild ringlet of hair, yanking at it in her anxiety. "I know," she repeated, brow furrowed like she were already working on problem solving.
"Look, go get some rest," Winona told her, feeling a flare of pity for the girl who she got the feeling was about to become the meat in a very uncomfortable sandwich. "Just promise me you'll be there for Harry in the morning."
"Of course," Hermione agreed, her eyes shining with sincerity. Winona could suddenly see exactly how much Harry meant to Hermione. He was her best friend in the world, something that was easily overlooked in the presence of Ron.
"Alright," she smiled, the expression as genuine as it was tired and drawn. "Get some sleep," she prompted her again, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder companionably. "See you tomorrow, 'Mione."
Hermione smiled back, nodding in agreement as she turned to head back down the corridor to her own dorm. Winona watched her go a moment, thinking idly that Harry didn't know how lucky he was to have a friend like Hermione, before shaking her head to clear it and heading back inside her dorm, making a beeline for her bed and burrowing under her covers with a sigh of satisfaction.
The next day, Winona considered waiting for Harry in the common room, but the last thing she wanted was for him to think her overbearing, so instead she reminded herself that Harry was a big boy and he could walk down to breakfast on his own.
Most of her friends were already down in the Great Hall to eat, with the exception of Angelina. "Ange wanted to get a head start on her Potions essay," Katie explained, voice raised just slightly to be heard over the twins' rambunctious shouts across from them. They were debating with Lee over their hypothetical band name. Winona wisely didn't mention that none of them could actually play an instrument.
And so breakfast passed quickly, Winona spending most of it eyeing the door, keeping an eye out for Harry. He never came into the Hall, but neither did Hermione, and she knew that as long as he wasn't alone, then he was alright.
That Sunday was a relatively quiet one for herself and the twins. Their other friends all went down to the Pitch to play a few rounds of Quidditch, but Fred and George were eager to spend some time perfecting their inventions while Winona reluctantly admitted she had to get started on the homework she'd been neglecting.
They broke often to joke, or rest their eyes, but mostly they did the responsible thing and worked.
It was nearing dinnertime when a tapping at the window caught their attention. The three friends glanced to the glass to find a tawny owl hovering outside the tower. Winona was the first to her feet, moving over and gently prying open the window, taking the letter from the owl and watching as it took off back into the sky, in the direction of the owlery.
Glancing down at the letter she was holding, Winona was only mildly surprised when she found it addressed to her. Her first thought was Dumbledore, but the handwriting of her name didn't fit, too sharp, not whimsical enough to be the Headmaster.
She leaned against the wall, peeling it open and fishing out the note within.
Lion,
Twenty minutes. The tapestry. You know which one.
Snake
Staring down at it in surprise, Winona felt her cheeks grow a little warm. "Who's that from, then?" Fred asked loudly from his place sprawled on the rug by the fire. She glanced up form the note to see both twins staring back at her expectantly.
"Who do you think?" she asked coyly, disguising the fact that it wasn't actually an answer.
They lost interest, most likely assuming it were Dumbledore or Trelawney, and she let out a faint sigh of relief.
She leant down, swiping her thick woollen jumper from the floor and pulling it on over her plain teeshirt. Distractedly she began to run her fingers through her loose hair, hoping to make herself look like less of a slob.
George had gone back to his inventing, scribbling something down in the margin of the book he was holding as he muttered to himself about sprigs of hemlock and the water-to-caster-oil ratio. Fred, on the other hand, was eyeing her critically.
"What?" she asked, a little self-conscious as she wiped at her face, just to be safe.
"Wanting to look nice for good ol' Dumbledore, are we?" he asked, a strange hitch to his voice.
"Well, I can't very well roam the castle looking like a feral cat now, can I?" she countered. Fred didn't look convinced, but she wasn't worried. He was probably just being difficult for the hell of it. "I'll be back later," she told them, quickly making sure her shoes were tied before heading for the portrait hole.
Jeremiah was already behind the tapestry when she got there. He was leaning against the wall looking positively sinful in his dark robes, the colour making his eyes seem to smoulder.
"You're early," he purred as she stepped closer, not hesitating to melt into him. "Someone's eager," he chuckled before catching her in a bruising kiss, all tongues and teeth and pure, unadulterated desire.
There was no affection there; no warmth or love. Winona knew that, but his skin was hot against hers, and if she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could just imagine that he wanted her for more than just her body.
"We're not even using classrooms, now?" she breathed once he released her mouth, kissing his way down the column of her throat. "Just a tapestry?"
"The danger's kind of exciting though, isn't it?" he asked, pausing to nibble on her ear before gripping the hem of her jumper and pulling it up and over her head. It crumpled to the floor, and he held her chest tightly to his, pressing their lips together once more.
She was distracted, so caught up in the feel of him against her that she didn't hear the sound of footsteps by the tapestry. All she knew was, one moment everything was hot and dark, and in the next the tapestry was thrown back, light shining on their intertwined bodies, revealing their forbidden encounter.
Winona gasped, pulling back and blinking as she struggled to adjust to the sudden light, but once she saw who had found them, she desperately wished she hadn't.
Fred and George stood before her, the Marauder's Map held in George's hand, leaving no questions as to exactly what had happened. George was gaping, eyes wide and shocked, while Fred's expression, on the other hand, was downright livid.
Everyone stared at everyone else, none of them seeming to know what to say. Fred was the first to act.
"You son of a bitch!" he roared abruptly, reaching into the alcove and gripping Jeremiah by the front of his robes, yanking him out into the corridor with a strength Winona hadn't known he'd possessed. "How dare you touch her!"
He rammed him up against the wall, and Winona gasped, ducking down to get her discarded jumper, sloppily yanking it over her head before rushing out into the corridor after them. Fred looked about ready to slam the Slytherin through pure stone, blue eyes seeming to glow with fury.
"Fred! Fred – let him go!" she yelled, leaping between them and pressing a hand against her best friend's chest. She'd never in her life seen him look so furious – like he wanted to reaching down Jeremiah's throat and yank his spine from his body.
"You think you can just – just force her to––" he was shouting, and she shoved harder against his chest, forcing him back a step.
"Stop it!" she shouted back at him, her voice shrill from panic. "Fred, calm down!" she hissed when his nostrils flared with rage. She understood, suddenly. He wasn't mad simply because of what he'd seen – he was mad because he thought it wasn't consensual. "I wasn't doing anything I didn't want to do, Fred," she told him, voice steady and sure.
Jeremiah stepped away from the wall, straightening his robes with a flick of his wrists, a wide, smug smirk on his face, eyes glinting proudly. It was the first time Winona had looked at him and thought he looked unattractive.
Fred's eyes flickered down to Winona, and she met his stare with a reproachful one of her own. She couldn't have possibly named the emotions swimming in his gaze. He was angry, but it went beyond that. Hurt? Betrayal? Why?
"I think you should go, Jeremiah," she said, slow and deliberate.
"I'm the one who has to leave?" he asked from behind her, his voice cold.
"Please just go," she begged him without looking away from Fred.
She heard Jeremiah's jaw click behind her, then his footsteps hitting the floor as he stormed off down the corridor. Winona didn't move her eyes from Fred's, the pair locked in a strange, inexplicable battle of wills, neither willing to be the one to concede.
Finally the sound of Jeremiah's footsteps dissipated, leaving them in a silence that rang with tension.
In the end, Fred was the one to break their stare, giving a sudden scoff and turning away. Winona glanced over at George, who was glancing between them both warily, not seeming to know how to react.
"Jeremiah Nott?" Fred finally spoke, pacing away from her before spinning around to pin her with a judgemental stare. "Really, Winona? Jeremiah Nott?"
"Look, I know you're confused––" she began quickly.
"How long?" he snapped, not letting her finish. Winona's teeth clicked together as she shut her mouth, and she clenched her jaw until it hurt, heart pounding so loud she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. "How long, Winona?" he barked, more furious than she'd ever seen.
She didn't want to tell him, suddenly full of a shame that burned bright and painful in her chest. She pressed her lips together, looking away to collect herself. "Since Christmas," she confessed, her voice lacking its usual strength.
She didn't look up at Fred, too afraid of what she might find. "So, what? You've been lying to us for nearly a year?" he asked, and she felt humiliation add to her panic as her eyes began to burn with tears. "Merlin, do you love him?" he pressed, spitting the word like it were dirty.
She ground her teeth together some more, throat tight as she struggled to form words. "I don't know," she admitted hoarsely.
"How can you not know?" he spat, and she looked up to see him gripping at his deep red hair, tugging it from the stress. "You either love him, or you don't."
"It's not that simple," she insisted weakly.
Fred stared back, eyes like a dragon's, glinting with a fiery fury that threatened to consume her. "Explain it, then," he said, the words like ice.
"What do you want me to say, Fred?" she demanded shrilly, gritting her teeth when her lip began to wobble traitorously. "I don't know if I love him, because I don't know what love is!" she said, fuelled by a passion, a sudden nerve she hadn't had before. "I don't know how to love someone, okay? I don't even know what it means!"
"That's bullshit," he spat abruptly. "Are you really playing the orphan card right now? It's pathetic, Winona."
She flinched away as though she'd been struck, eyes watering enough that her vision began to blur. "Fred, come on," said George reproachfully, and Winona brought her own arms up around her middle, giving herself a sad imitation of a comforting hug. "We should just calm down. We don't wanna say something we don't mean…"
"How could you lie to us?" Fred barrelled on, heedless of his brother's warning. "How could you lie to me?"
"You don't need to know every single little detail about my life," she hissed.
"This isn't little!"
"It just wasn't any of your business, Fred," she snapped. "You don't get to control who I date."
"Date?" he echoed, utterly incredulous. "That didn't look like a date to me. He's only using you for your body!"
"You don't know anything about us," she bit back, voice cool and dark.
"I know enough," he spat. "And like I said, it's pathetic. You're pathetic."
He was lashing out, she knew, but his words were so sharp and hurtful that they seemed to stab her heart where it sat inside her chest. His eyes were dark and gleaming with betrayal, glaring at her in something she could only call hurt.
Her eyes stung, and she sniffled quietly, turning away to try and hide her tears. "You don't have to be cruel," she said, her voice lacking volume.
But Fred's frosty demeanour didn't even melt at the sight of her wet eyes. "And you don't have to whore yourself out to the first guy to pay you a lick of attention, but here we are," he snapped back, and Winona sucked in a sharp, pained breath.
"Fred," said George, low and reproachful.
"It's fine, George," Winona insisted, tilting her chin up in an attempt to hold onto what little dignity she had left. "It's fine," she said again, but her voice wobbled. She couldn't look at Fred's furious, pained eyes any longer, and turned away before a sob could escape her lips.
She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, letting her legs carry her far, far away from the twin whose venomous words had cut to her core. And she wanted to never forgive him. She wanted to be angry at him for all her life. But she knew the truth.
Who could she blame for this but herself?
A/N: It finally happened, one less secret to hide. Things seems bleak now, but stick with me – and for those of you wondering, Jeremiah's storyline is pretty much wrapping up. A little more closure to be had, but things are going to start slowly taking a turn for the better. Thanks for sticking with me this far! I know the Jeremiah stuff was hard to handle, but this is the story I wanted to tell; Winona's character growth, learning what it means to love and be loved.
Also, don't be too mad at Fred, we all say things we don't mean when we're hurt, and he'll redeem himself in time.
Review of the week goes to Nicole Starling – your review made me squeal in the best possible way. Every time you review any of my stories, it's always some of the best feedback I get. You're honestly the best, and I hope you enjoyed this one. Lots of drama, but don't worry, there is fluff on its way!