A/N: Hey guys – the response last chapter was crazy. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and I've been on an editing spree the last few days so I figured I'd treat you all and throw up another chapter, since I already have it ready.
Thanks to those of you who mentioned being interested in my Bucky/OC story, and even more to those willing to beta read it and give me some feedback! I've sent private messages following up with a few of you, so keep an eye out for those, and I hope we can work together soon!
More notes at the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy!
Apparently the world didn't stop turning just because it felt like your whole life had been blown to pieces. Everyone went back to classes that next day, unbothered, but Winona wandered through the halls, listless and aimless, like one of the ghosts.
Fred wasn't speaking to her – he wouldn't even so much as look at her – and although George wasn't ignoring her, he was distant. She couldn't blame him; he was torn between his best friend and his twin brother. It wasn't an easy position to be in, and she certainly didn't envy him of it.
She noticed things between the two of them didn't look easy, either. Winona would catch them having hissed arguments unlike any she'd ever seen them have before. Days passed, and she realised she hadn't seen them genuinely laugh, or even prank anyone, since the incident. And damn if that didn't make her feel like dragon dung.
She had to count her blessings, however. Despite Fred's hurt, he hadn't seemed to have told anyone what he'd seen. The entire school, and all her friends, never said so much as a word about Jeremiah. She wondered why Fred wouldn't blab her secret to the whole world – he surely seemed bitter enough to do so, if the words he's spat in anger were anything to go by.
Lee, Alicia, Angelina and Katie were all incredibly confused as to why she and Fred were no longer on speaking terms, but to their irritation neither Fred, nor she or George, would tell them anything.
And so life went on and Winona suffered in silence. The days passed by and she spent most of her time with Alicia and Katie. Angelina seemed to be glued to Fred's side these days, and despite not having a clue what was going on, Lee stuck close to George's side, seeming to sense it was the safest option in the grand scheme of things.
She wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, but Jeremiah was ignoring her, refusing to meet her eye in the Great Hall, or even in classes. She knew the person she wanted to speak to most was Harry, but her poor cousin was already so slammed by ire and teasing from the rest of the school over the Tournament, that she didn't want to add to his distress.
It was a whole week after the horrible incident that Harry finally seemed to notice something wasn't quite right.
They were at dinner in the Great Hall, and Winona was sat with only Ginny, the rest of her friends all chatting loudly from further down the table. When she glanced up, it was to find Angelina and Fred in an unnecessarily graphic snog.
She tried to listen as Ginny spoke about how much she wished Quidditch wasn't cancelled for the year, but mostly she just toyed with her food, staring forlornly into her mash potatoes.
To her surprise, somebody took the open seat in front of her, and both girls looked up to see Harry sitting opposite them, a weary look on his face that made Winona's heart hurt. "Hey, Ginny," he greeted the youngest Weasley politely, before his eyes slid over to his cousin. "Winnie, can we talk?"
Winona turned to Ginny. "Mind giving us a minute, Gin?"
Ginny quickly nodded her head. "I'll go see what Luna's been up to," she said, shooting Harry a shy smile before moving across the aisle to the Ravenclaw table.
"How're you doing?" Winona asked her cousin once Ginny was out of earshot. Thankfully the people on either side of them were engaged in lively conversations, and for once, nobody seemed to be paying the Boy-Who-Lived any extra attention.
"Rubbish. You?"
"Rubbish," she parroted with a sigh.
"Why aren't you sitting with your friends?" he asked quietly, casting her friends a glance. They were laughing uproariously at something someone had said, and Winona wondered whether anyone else could see how the twins' laughter was too forced to be real.
"You know how you and Ron aren't talking?" she asked pointedly, pushing away her plate, suddenly uninterested in the food. "It's pretty much like that."
"They think you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, too?" Harry asked, the words playful, but his voice anything but.
Winona narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. She kicked out her foot, striking him in the shin. "You think you're so funny," she sniped. Harry smiled, but she could tell it was strained.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" he asked after a moment, keeping his voice low. He was sweet like that, sensitive even when he wasn't sure why it was necessary.
"It's not important," she said with a dismissive shrug.
The look he sent her was dry. "I beg to differ."
Pausing, Winona chewed carefully on her next words. "They caught me with a Slytherin," she finally said, knowing she couldn't lie. Not to Harry.
Her cousin's expression scrunching with confusion. "When you say with a Slytherin…?"
"I mean with a Slytherin," she confirmed around a grimace that was full of self-loathing. Harry looked about ready to gag, realising what she meant. She winced apologetically.
"Right then," he murmured, struggling to come to terms with what she'd just told him. "Who?"
Again, the truth was her only option. She didn't want to hide anything from Harry, and there was no reason to. If anyone was going to be on her side, it would be him. Right? "Nott," she admitted, voice barely loud enough to hear. She kept her eyes on her plate, afraid to see the judgement in her cousin's eyes.
Harry choked. "Theodore Nott?!" he asked loudly. She kicked him again underneath the table. "Sorry," he whispered with a wince.
"If you really must know, it was his brother, Jeremiah," she hissed, utterly ashamed to admit it. Even saying his name made her feel dirty, and she hated herself just a little bit more.
"But…why?" Harry asked, genuinely confused, as though he couldn't possibly understand why she would want to kiss a Slytherin, let alone shag one.
Winona's nose scrunched. "I happen to like him," she said, even though by this point, she was beginning to doubt even that.
"Really?" Harry asked, sounding just as doubtful. Was it just the fact Jeremiah was a Slytherin, or did he really know her well enough to know she was so deep in this, she'd begun to lie to herself?
Defensive all the same, Winona's eyes narrowed. "Are you just gonna criticise me?"
Harry seemed to see his error. "Sorry," he said sincerely. "Why're they mad at you for it, though? Surely they don't care who you're…with," he finished, looking about as comfortable saying it as a fish did riding a bicycle.
"Well, it's been going on awhile now," she admitted, drawing nonsense patterns on the tabletop with her fingertip. "I think they're upset that I've been lying to them about it."
Harry was frowning. "How is it we've both managed to lose our best friends within the same week?" he asked, glancing up at the fake clouds above their heads as though expecting an answer to drop from the enchanted sky.
Winona's nose scrunched again. "You're not mad at me?"
He looked back at her in surprise. "No. I think it's disgusting, but then again, you're my cousin – I'd think it was disgusting no matter what House they were in."
Winona smiled, feeling her spirits lift just a little bit. "I'm sorry I haven't been here for you more over the last week," she told him, guilt flooding her insides. She'd meant to be, she really had – but she'd been so caught up in her own drama that it had fallen to the back-burner. Winona's self-hatred doubled.
"It's okay, you've clearly been going through a lot," he assured her. "Besides, I've had Hermione."
"Still," she said sadly, but Harry was happy to move on.
"I had the Wand Weighing ceremony just now," he told her. "I just got back. It was awful. Rita Skeeter insisted on interviewing me. Her Quick-Quotes Quill kept writing that I was crying."
"Rita Skeeter is a plague on wizarding kind," Winona said without so much as a beat of hesitation.
"What's she done to you?" he asked, surprised by her vehement response.
"Nothing," she told him. "But I've read her articles. They're nothing but gossipy trash."
"Yeah, I got that feeling," Harry muttered.
"Did you have to do a photoshoot, too?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
Winona smirked, reaching over the table and playfully ruffling his wild hair. "Your hair's all pushed back," she told him with a weak flicker of amusement. He batted away her hand, reaching up to fix his unruly hair himself. She laughed, feeling a little warmer than she had a few minutes ago.
Feeling the familiar weight of eyes on her face, Winona turned to her left, unintentionally locking eyes with Fred, who had been staring at her as she laughed. The moment their eyes met he winced and turned away, rejoining the conversation around him with forced vigour that made Winona's heart ache.
Harry and Winona made their way up to the Tower together, talking idly about the Summoning Charm he was struggling with in class. Winona wasn't much help, she'd always struggled with it too.
They parted at the common room, Harry heading straight up to the dorms while Winona took a seat by the window, pulling out her sketchbook and beginning to work on a rough charcoal drawing of Harry.
She wasn't disturbed for a while, but soon enough she felt someone standing over her, and looked up to see it was Harry again. He was holding out a letter.
Excitement flared in her chest, and she swiped the envelope from his hand, peering down at her name written across the front in sharp, cursive letters. "Sirius?" she asked Harry, even though she already knew.
Her cousin nodded. "Just got one, too," he told her quietly, holding up an envelope with his name written across the front in Sirius' angled script. He took a seat on the chair beside her, and she was filled with a rush of affection at the fact that he'd waited to give her hers before opening his own.
Winona made quick work of the envelope, tearing it open and eagerly staring down at the note from her father.
Winona,
Can you and Harry get the common room to yourselves at exactly one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November? I need to talk with you both, face-to-face.
There's a lot I want to say, but can't in a letter. I look forward to hearing your voice again. If anything unusual happens, to either you or to Harry, let me know.
I'll see you soon, Winona.
All my love,
-Sirius
He wasn't signing as 'Dad', but part of her was glad. They'd only met briefly, after all, and all their bonding so far had been through the written word. She wanted to see his face again, hear his voice just as much as he wanted to hear hers.
Why did life have to be so unfair? She might have gained a father, but he was on the run from the Ministry, unreachable but by owl. She wanted to know what a hug might feel like, from a parent. It wasn't something she could remember ever experiencing; being safe in a parent's arms.
"So we'll stay up together on the night of the 22nd, then?" Harry whispered, and she looked away from the letter to nod to him.
"We'll meet here after dinner," she agreed. It was still two weeks away, but she found herself excited for it.
It helped keep her spirits up over the next fortnight, which was just long days of tense conversation with her friends.
None of them except the twins knew what had happened, but their friends were stuck awkwardly floating between them and Winona, unsure where to step. She felt bad, but at the same time she wasn't about to come clean and tell them everything. They probably wouldn't be as mad as Fred – not that she was even really that sure why he was so mad in the first place – but they wouldn't let it go, either. She'd rather keep them in the dark for as long as she could, telling herself it was for the best.
The following Sunday, Winona found herself down by the lake with Harry and Hermione, all of them working on their homework in the rare Scottish sunshine.
The two fourth years were busy practising Summoning Charms while Winona was painstakingly bullshitting her essay on the theory behind turning vinegar into wine.
Harry and Winona engaged in light conversation every now again, but were always eventually shushed by Hermione, who berated them for getting distracted.
Winona was considering hitting her with a silencing spell – just for a laugh – when a vision hit her head on.
She gave a loud gasp and hurried to tug her drawing materials out of her bag. "Winnie?" asked Harry in alarm, watching as she spilled the contents of her pencil case onto the grass in her haste.
"Vision," she said, managing to just get the word out before suddenly the light of the sunny day shuttered away, replaced by an endless, inky black.
The roar of a beast sounded loud and deafening in her ears, so strong that her very skeleton seemed to vibrate with the force of it. She felt flames on her face, scolding hot, and her skin almost seemed to sizzle under its heat. There were screams and cheers from all around her, thunderous in volume, and she could see flashes of scaly orange and flaming crimson. It was everywhere, all at once, and there was something coming for her, something hungry and angry, it wanted to kill – no, to protect. Protect what? Everything was so loud, and bright, smoke was filling her lungs, she couldn't breathe––
"Winona?!"
She came to with a shuddering gasp. Out of instinct she threw her sketch against her chest, hiding its secrets from sight. Blinking back to herself, she saw the sunlight streaming down through the leaves of the tree they lay beneath, and Harry and Hermione's concerned faces staring back at her.
"Winnie, are you okay?" Harry was asking, and she realised his hands were curled around her shoulders, holding tight as though trying to anchor her to the present.
"Yeah," she said, but her throat felt raw. She could still taste the smoke on her tongue.
"That was a powerful one," he said mildly, shifting back, giving her room to breathe.
"You're telling me," she muttered, fingers curling around the edges of her sketchbook.
Neither of them asked what she'd seen, even though she could see the curiosity burning in their eyes. She loved them all the more for it.
"What's it like?" asked Hermione suddenly, as she began to smooth down her hair and wipe away the sweat clinging to her brow. "Seeing the future?" she elaborated at Winona's confusion. "That vision looked particularly scary. Can you feel what you're doing when you're…seeing something?" she asked, and Winona had to smile at the reluctant curiosity she was displaying.
"No," she told her simply. "It's almost like I leave my body. Like I'm actually in the future. It can be overwhelming. Dumbledore says it's something that'll be easier to control with time, I just have to keep practising."
Hermione looked like she had a thousand more questions ready, but Harry interrupted her before she could press for more. "Hold still," he said, and Winona did as she was told, watching as his fingers reached out to her hair, plucking something from her long, blonde tresses. "Beetle," he explained, holding up the little thing for her to see, before turning and brushing it from his hand. It buzzed as though irritated, then took off, its little wings moving too fast to see, flying in the general direction of the forest.
Winona took a moment, then finally glanced down at her newest prediction. There was a great sort of pit, deep and lined with jagged rocks and large boulders. In the middle sat a massive, massive dragon, all dangerous spines and sharp, threatening teeth.
In the bottom corner of the page stood a tiny little figure, dwarfed by the dragon before it. The figure was too small to make out its face, but that wild head of hair was impossible to mistake.
"Harry," she said, slow and just a little bit unsteady.
He hummed, looking up from where he'd been absentmindedly flicking his wand, trying to get the movement just right for his Summoning Spell.
"I think I just found out what the first task's going to be," she told him, and his expression went slack in surprise. Heart racing, she handed over the sketchbook. He took it without hesitation, laying eyes upon his – quite immediate – future.
"Dragons?" he asked, and Hermione hurried to lean over him to get a good look. "The first task is dragons?" he said, glancing up at his cousin with wide, alarmed eyes.
"Apparently so," she murmured, mouth twisting into a concerned grimace.
"How am I meant to fight a dragon?" he asked, a perfectly reasonable question, one she didn't know the answer to. She shrugged, helpless and a little bit afraid.
"I'm sure Dumbledore won't actually let anyone get hurt," said Hermione primly, but even she couldn't mask the concern in her eyes. "Especially not you, Harry."
"Yeah," he murmured, but it was plain to see that he wasn't convinced.
The knowledge of the first task sat heavy with the lot of them, but they knew they couldn't tell anyone – that would only bring questions of how they knew, which would only reveal Winona's secret. As it turned out, however, the outing of Winona's secret was beyond any of their control, as they discovered only a few short days later.
Winona had barely gotten any sleep, tossing and turning as always, so when she wandered down to breakfast with Alicia, Angelina and Hope, she was praying it was going to be a quiet day of easy classes before she could go take a nap in the common room. Fate had other plans.
They were running a little bit late, and everyone was already in the Hall, chattering away. Winona had the strangest sense that she was being watched, and she turned her eyes to the rest of the Hall, only to find most of the student body with their eyes fixed on her. Many of them didn't even turn away when she caught them; they just openly gawked.
She knew it wasn't her imagination that they were staring, and most of them seemed to be whispering behind their hands as they goggled at her like she were Viktor fucking Krum.
Her first thought was that Fred had finally caved and told everyone about her relationship – if it could even be called that – with Jeremiah. Angry, her eyes slid down the table until she found him, only he didn't look either guilty or smug, instead he looked utterly horrified.
Confused by the strange reaction, she could do no more than look away, saying a quick farewell to the girls before moving further down the table towards Harry and Hermione.
Harry stood to his feet, meeting her halfway, the look on his face severe and urgent. "Harry?" she asked warily, feeling the stares on her back seem to almost triple in strength.
"Winnie, I don't know how they found out," he said nervously, holding out a copy of the Prophet, eyes wide and full of worry.
"Found out what?" she asked, pulse loud in her ears as she took it from him. It wasn't open to the front page, but rather one near the back of the edition. She brought it up to get a better look.
The Secret Seer at Hogwarts
Just reading the title, the blood drained from her face, leaving her a ghostly pale. Her hands began to shake, and she swallowed thickly, eyes wide as she forced herself to read on.
If I were to say the name Winona Andrews, nobody reading this would be likely to know who I was talking about. Today, that changes. The Daily Prophet has heard exclusively from a source (whom wishes to remain anonymous) from within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that pretty sixth-year student, Winona Andrews – Winnie, to her friends – is nothing less than this generation's only known True Seer.
Winona is a quiet girl, and not particularly studious, but she holds a gift most witches and wizards spend their whole lives trying to replicate with the use of crystal balls and tea leaves.
"Winnie's been able to See things as long as I've known her," says our source, one of her closest friends. "She goes into these trances, and she's just able to draw the future. Nobody else knows, except Headmaster Dumbledore. I think he wants to keep her ability for himself."
We haven't been able to get ahold of Miss Andrews for a comment on the matter. Is Dumbledore really shielding the truth of her ability from the world, for nothing but his own gain? Could it be we have the next Cassandra Vablatsky right under our very noses? Watch this space for more news as the secrets unfurl.
Winona stared at the copy of the Prophet in horror. Suddenly the whispers made sense, and when she glanced up it seemed everyone was staring at her, some gaping like idiots, most just whispering about her to their friends.
She had no idea what to do. What could she do? What was there to do? How had they even found out?
Her eyes flickered back down to the words on the page, baring her soul for the wizarding world to see. She didn't have to wonder who the anonymous source was – there were only a small handful of people who knew her secret, and only one of them was currently furious with her. But furious enough to blab to the press? She didn't want to believe it, but there was only one person it could have been.
People continued to stare, and Winona felt like she couldn't breathe.
"I have to get out of here," she said to Harry without looking up at him.
"Winnie–" he tried to say, but she wasn't ready to hear it.
"I'll find you later, Harry," she told him, spinning on her heel and making a beeline for the doors to the entrance hall. The sea of stares and whispers followed her as she walked, and she felt a strong humiliation burn like acid in her gut. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She knew she needed to find Dumbledore. He would fix it, surely he would.
"Winnie!" a painfully familiar voice shouted after her, but she didn't so much as pause, taking the stairs two at a time in her haste to get away from him. "Winnie – stop!" Fred shouted again, and she could hear his beaten up old shoes slapping against the stone as he sped up. "Winona!"
She reached the landing at the top of the grand staircase, spinning on her heel in time to slam her scrunched up copy of the Prophet into Fred's chest. He froze, blue eyes wide and shocked.
"How could you?" she snarled at him, venom coating her voice.
"Win, this wasn't me. You know it wasn't," he said, but Winona barely heard him. She could hear her own blood rushing in her ears, and she gave him another shove, taking a large step back. She didn't even want to look at him.
"Nobody else could do this," she said sharply, pointing out the plain facts of the matter. "Nobody else had reason to."
"I would never tell anyone, whether we're fighting or not, Win," Fred swore, and she really wished she could believe him. But the furious, betrayed looks he'd been sending her since the night he'd caught her with Jeremiah told a different story.
Her eyes welled up with tears, and one spilled over her cheek. Angry, she reached up to wipe it away. At her tears, Fred looked like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. "I trusted you," she said, a sad, pathetic little whisper.
"Winnie, I swear on my life, I swear on George's life. This wasn't me," he insisted, desperate for her to believe him.
She stared at him, struggling to come to terms with it. The look in his cornflower blue eyes was sincere. She wanted to believe it so bad, it hurt. Another tear spilled down her cheek, but this time Fred was the one to wipe it away, shifting closer, blue eyes so big and round. She could see his worry for her, but it only made her heart twist with agony.
His hand against her skin was warm and reassuring, and with him this close she could smell his scent, the familiar combination of fresh soil and gunpowder.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked him, voice cracking with emotion as she stared up into his eyes, absolutely hating how vulnerable she felt in that moment. She was stronger than this – she had to be. But right now she didn't feel it.
"Yeah," Fred said, but there was a softness in his gaze that took away the bite the words otherwise would have held. "Furious. You?"
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Absolutely fuming."
They stared at one another, and for a moment his cruel words and her careless actions meant nothing. They were gone, disappeared between them, leaving only the soul-deep connection they'd always shared.
But then Peeves shot past, screeching something about the Bloody Baron, and the moment of armistice between them dissolved.
Winona shut her eyes, squeezing tightly and indulging in his touch for just one more moment before pulling away and rubbing stubbornly at her eyes. "I have to go find Dumbledore," she said hollowly, feeling just as empty in her chest. "You should get back. Ange's probably wondering where you've gone by now."
The use of his girlfriend's name seemed to sober him, and Fred stepped away, nodding his head once. Winona swallowed, feeling the space between them like an endless chasm. Her heart hurt again.
Then without another word, she forced herself to turn away, head ducked low as she padded off in the direction of the Headmaster's office. Fred's eyes followed her until she stepped around the corner, and finally she could breathe again.
The password to Dumbledore's office was still the same – much to Winona's relief – and he called for her to come in the moment she knocked on the door.
"Winona," he said when he saw her, sounding maybe more sympathetic than she'd ever heard him before. Her eyes red and puffy from crying – she probably looked pathetic. "Sit," he waved a hand at her usual chair. She made her way over, putting down her ever-present bag and sitting heavily in the seat.
Dumbledore flicked his wrist at the tea station in the corner and the tea immediately began to prepare itself.
"How are you doing?" he asked her, shutting the book he was browsing and taking a seat at his desk, steepling his hands beneath his chin.
"Not well," she answered honestly.
"I read Rita Skeeter's article in the paper this morning," he told her, the deep, familiar cadence of his voice soothing. "I've already owled the editor, expressing my extreme displeasure at the invasion of your privacy."
"Doesn't really do much good now," Winona murmured darkly. "The damage is done, isn't it?"
"Indeed," he replied, low and just a little sympathetic. "Do you know who this anonymous source is?" he asked after a moment, taking his teacup as it floated towards him. Winona lifted her head to do the same, but when she sipped her tea it only tasted like dirty water on her tongue.
"The only people who knew the truth were Harry, Ron, Hermione and the twins," she promised him, voice hollow even to her own ears. "It wasn't any of them," she added, believing the words as she said them. Given a little time to cool down, plus Fred's earnest promises, she was convinced it wasn't him who'd betrayed her trust.
They may have been fighting, and maybe the damage between them was irreparable, but she didn't believe he was capable of betraying her like that. There was too much history; their bond too strong. And, at his heart, Fred was a Gryffindor. He was loyal to a fault.
But then, if it wasn't him, who could it have been?
Although, if she was truly honest, the question of who wasn't as much important as what; as in what now?
"What do I do now, Professor?" she asked the Headmaster, voice embarrassingly small. "Would anyone believe me if I denied it?"
Dumbledore gave a pitying sort of smile that made Winona bristle. She didn't want pity, least of all his. "I don't think there's much use," he told her plainly, and she gripped her little teacup tighter. "I'm not going to lie to you, Winona," he continued, and she glanced back up, scared to hear his next words, whatever they may be. "Now that the truth is out, you're going to be in danger."
Winona gave a silent gulp, feeling her skin prickle, on high alert. "From who?" she asked, the next logical question.
Dumbledore leaned back in his majestic chair, old eyes glinting with knowledge she might never know. "There are people in this world, Winona, who would seek to control and exploit your ability for their own benefit," he told her steadily. Her stomach turned to lead. "They will stop at nothing to gain your talents for themselves."
Winona's mouth felt dry. "So, what can I do to stop it?"
"Nothing," he told her. She looked away, putting down her teacup when her fingertips began to tremble. "There will always be people like that in the world. All you can do is live your life and learn to protect yourself as best you can."
Winona swallowed, the tea in her stomach curdling like bad milk. "The whole school knows," she said, the hollow feeling in her gut only growing, like something small and hungry was gnawing at her insides. "There's nowhere to hide."
"You needn't hide. Not here," said the Headmaster, voice light and whimsical. She looked up at him in confusion. He was smiling, the expression small but confident. "You will always be safe within these walls," he promised her heartily. "Now, I do believe you have a Transfiguration lesson to get to," he said, and she reluctantly stood to her feet, shouldering her bag and taking a slow step in the direction of the door. "Winona," he called before she could go any further. She turned back to look at him. "I think you'll find that everything will be okay, in the end," he said kindly, blue eyes twinkling in the firelight as he handed her a small slip of paper with an explanation as to why she would be late to class. "Everything always is."
She meandered her way down to McGonagall's classroom, dragging her feet the whole way. She paused outside the door. The last thing she wanted was to sit inside a room with her classmates, feel the weight of their judgemental stares on her back.
But she couldn't just skip class, no matter how much she might want to. Trying very hard to draw on her so-called Gryffindor courage, Winona stepped through the doorway, head held high.
"Miss Andrews," McGonagall was the first to spot her, and in an instant every head in the room swivelled around to stare at her, just as she'd predicted. Winona swallowed around a lump in her throat. "I assume you have a valid explanation for your tardiness?" the professor asked her sternly. She gripped the strap of her bag, heading directly up the aisle to McGonagall's desk, handing over the note from Dumbledore.
The Transfiguration teacher scanned it quickly, then nodded her head and gestured for her to take her seat.
Turning around, Winona was surprised to see that the open seat wasn't beside Alicia or Hope, as it usually was, but rather beside George, who met her eyes before flickering his own to the open spot meaningfully.
Relief filled her like a water in a dam, and in that instant she felt like she could have started sobbing on the spot. Thankfully she kept her control, collapsing into the seat beside her best friend and pulling out her textbook and quill.
McGonagall continued on with her lesson, but Winona could feel the weight of all the eyes in the class on her back. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, pulse pounding in her ears. Something brushed her hand, and she flinched, only to glance over and see it was just George.
He was smiling a sad, sympathetic little smile, and without hesitation she gripped his hand, holding it tightly, skin warm and calloused under hers. Her eyes stung with tears, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall, pretending to pay attention to McGonagall's lesson while she drew on her best friend for comfort.
Class dragged on, seemingly forever, and by the time it was finally over, Winona was just about ready to blow a gasket. McGonagall dismissed them, and Winona didn't hesitate to leap to her feet, shoving her things back into her bag and turning to look up at George as they walked from the classroom.
"You okay?" he asked her quietly, doing a good job of ignoring all the blatant stares being sent their way.
"What do you think?" she scoffed, glaring at a pair of Ravenclaws who were openly gaping from a few metres down the hall. They let out small titters and turned away, rushing off to their next class.
"I think that if you frown any harder, you'll get permanent wrinkles," he joked, reaching out to poke her playfully between the eyes. She batted his hand away, trying her best to cement the scowl on her face.
They reached the end of the hall, the path branching off in two directions. George had to go right, down to the dungeons for double Potions, while Winona had to go left, out onto the grounds for her Care of Magical Creatures lesson. She was surprised to find that Angelina and Fred were waiting there; Angelina to go with George, Fred with her down to Hagrid's hut.
They were whispering to one another, in the middle of some kind of hushed argument. Fred looked frustrated, and Angelina hurt. George cleared his throat as he and Winona approached, and the couple glanced up sharply, their argument coming to a screeching halt.
"Winona," said Angelina tersely. Nobody could have missed the tension in her voice. She eyed Winona warily, with a suspicion that Winona felt was greatly unwarranted.
"Hey, Ange," she greeted her amicably anyway, gripping on tight to the strap of her bag, holding it like a lifeline.
She could see the thousands of questions swimming in her eyes, but before she could voice any one of them, Fred spoke up, a defensive edge to his voice. "We should go," he said to Winona. "Don't want to be late."
Winona wanted to ask since when he cared about tardiness, but she didn't dare rock the boat. She just nodded her head, shooting an unconvincing smile at George and Angelina before spinning on her heel and padding down the corridor that led to the school's grounds. She heard Fred mutter a farewell, then felt him following after her, sticking close to her side.
They said nothing on the walk down to class, but the silence wasn't as uncomfortable as she would have thought. It was full of tension, yes, but that was a given. Winona kept her eyes on her feet, ignoring the blatant stares of her classmates as she navigated the path down the hill towards Hagrid's hut.
Unfortunately, Winona and Fred were the only two Gryffindors to be taking NEWT level Care of Magical Creatures, the rest of the class was made up of students from other Houses. Nobody they passed on the way down said anything, and for a moment she almost believed she'd bypassed any confrontation, but when they reached their usual meeting place for class, Hagrid was nowhere to be seen.
"Well, well, if it isn't Hogwarts' secret Seer!" crowed a leering voice. Winona's grip on her bag strap tightened, the material cutting into the flesh of her palm. She spun around, meeting Jonathan Downey of Ravenclaw's teasing eyes. "Say Andrews, could you do me a favour and read my palm for me? I'd like to know what I'm having for lunch," he sneered derisively.
The group of Slytherins at the back of the class all tittered, and his fellow Ravenclaws snorted with cruel laughter. The Hufflepuffs just looked uncomfortable.
"Doesn't work like that, you prick," Winona replied without missing a beat.
"Then how does it work?" he pressed, edging closer. "I'm sure we'd all love to hear about how you see into the future. Tell me, do you wind up as as much of a freak after school as you are now?" he laughed tauntingly, and his little crowd of fans all giggled like it were the most hilarious thing they'd ever heard.
Winona grit her teeth, in her mind repeated a mantra of I will not hit him, I will not hit him, I will not hit him, I will not–
"Shut up, Downey," snapped Fred, and Winona looked up at him in surprise. He had a furious glare on his face, eyes like little chips of ice, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
"Or what, Weasley?" Downey countered, arms crossed over his chest, a combative smirk on his stupid, ugly face. "You gonna tell on me for hurting your freaky little girlfriend's feelings?" he jeered.
Fred's entire body was tense, and Winona could sense the oncoming fight from a mile away. She reached up, wrapping a small hand around Fred's bicep, gripping tightly, a grounding presence. "He's not worth it," she told him quietly, gently beginning to pull him backwards, out of the danger zone.
Fred was reluctant, but he wasn't an idiot. He moved back with her even as he glared daggers at the bulky Ravenclaw. Downey laughed, the sound like two stones being crushed together. "That's right, Weasel, walk away," he sneered triumphantly. "Hide behind your little groupie."
Winona paused, turning to look at the cruel Ravenclaw, blood in her veins turning to ice. "What did you just call me?"
"A groupie," said Downey without so much as a hint of shame.
Winona's hands balled into fists. "I'm no one's groupie," she snarled, letting go of Fred and taking a threatening step closer. As she moved, the Ravenclaw produced his wand, a hint of wariness appearing in his cold eyes.
"What're you gonna do, read me my tea-leaves until I die of boredom?" he scoffed, but nobody laughed this time, probably because of the way Winona's eyes flashed in warning.
"No," she said, scarily calm. "But I will tell you your future."
He smirked, gripping his wand in his fist, eyes sharp and mocking. "Go ahead," he sneered. "We can't wait to hear it."
"I'm afraid you're never going to have any children," Winona told him in a sympathetic voice, wandering slowly closer, eyes wide, the picture of innocence.
Downey's expression scrunched in confusion. "What does that–?"
But before he could finish getting the question out, Winona brought up her knee, jerking it mercilessly into his crotch. The Ravenclaw instantly crumpled to the ground, holding himself in agony, tears appearing in his eyes.
The students around them all gave loud gasps of shock, some scuttling out of the way as though Winona was on a rampage and they were next on her list.
Victorious and just a little bit smug, she leaned in to whisper in the bully's ear. "Call me a groupie again, and I'll leave you pissing out of a tube," she threatened, then pulled away just as Hagrid came around the corner, cheerful as ever until he noticed the state of disarray his students were in.
"Oi, you lot," his booming voice called over the group. "What's going on here?"
"Andrews just attacked Jonathan," said Stacy Mann, another Ravenclaw in their year, pointing a perfectly manicured, accusing finger in Winona's face.
Hagrid took in the way Downey was curled on the ground, holding himself in agony. His eyes went wide, and he didn't seem to know how to react. "Tha' true, Winona?" the gentle giant asked her warily, clearly hoping she'd deny it.
But Winona respected Hagrid too much to lie to his face. "He deserved it," she told him evenly, arms crossed over her chest.
Hagrid looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Be tha' as it may, I'm goin' ter have ter issue yeh a detention," he said reluctantly. Winona only nodded her head in agreement. His beady eyes slid over to Downey, still in a ball in the dirt. "Yeh alrigh', Downey?" he asked carefully.
Jason Crawford, a burly Slytherin, bent down to help Downey to his feet. "He'll be right, professor," Crawford assured Hagrid, taking a moment to aim a threatening glower at Winona. But it was like water off a duck's back for all the good it did. Feeling very proud of herself, she hiked her bag up her shoulder and started off in the direction of their lesson.
Hagrid was leading them towards the lake, and as they walked, Fred caught up with her. She was surprised by his presence, glancing up to find him smiling into thin air like he'd just thought up a particularly amusing joke.
"What's that look for?" she demanded, half dreading the answer.
"I guess I just forgot that you can take of yourself," he told her, still smiling like he'd just seen the best show of his entire life.
"Damn right I can," she replied, unable to quell the tiny smile flickering at her lips.
For one brilliant, shining moment, everything was exactly how it should be. Fred was her best friend, her secret was still a secret and life was easy and utterly uncomplicated.
The illusion was broken, however, when a pair of Hufflepuff girls passed them by, whispering quite loudly about whether Winona used her abilities to cheat on their OWLs the year before or not.
Sighing with exhaustion, Winona curled into herself, shutting herself off from the world around her and slinking back into her safe, desolate little hole of dismay.
Class passed by quickly, all things considered. Fred never left her side, but they barely said two words to one another. Things weren't just going to get miraculously better, no matter how much she desperately wished they would. Fred had said awful things, and she wasn't ready to forgive him for that yet. Maybe ever.
It was a harrowing thought – not making up with Fred – but it was one she had to consider now. Would she be able to get past what he'd said? Would he be able to move on from what she'd done? There were so many uncertainties, she felt like she was drowning in them.
Making her way up to the castle for lunch, she and Fred broke away from one another without so much as a word. He went to join George at one end of the Gryffindor table, while Winona spied Harry near the middle, sitting opposite Ginny and Hermione.
Taking a seat beside her cousin, she noticed when his shoulders slumped in sheer relief at the sight of her. "Winnie," he said, eyes wide and concerned as he abandoned his sandwich wedge on a plate, turning his full attention to her. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, Boy-Wonder," she assured him, reaching up to pat him on the back before moving to begin gathering a collection of fruit and minced pies onto her plate. "You?" she asked in kind. Harry was suspiciously silent from beside her, and she looked up from where she was cutting open a pie. "Harry?" she asked, glancing over at the girls for help.
"You weren't the only one mentioned in the paper today," Hermione said in a whisper that still carried. She held out a copy of the Prophet and Winona all but snatched it from her hand, spreading it out on the table in front of her.
The front page was nothing but a large, moving picture of Harry, smiling rather awkwardly at the camera before looking away and moving his lips, quite clearing asking if he could leave yet.
Frowning, Winona flipped to the pages with the articles, giving it a proper scan.
I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now…Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it…I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…
Then, after that ridiculous, faked quote, was another paragraph that had Winona's eyes wide in shock.
Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.
"Sweet children, please excuse my potty mouth," she began steadily, looking up at them with bewildered eyes, "but what the actual fuck is this?"
"Bullshit, is what it is," said Ginny with a snort, and Hermione shot her a reprimanding glare for her mouth. "What, Winnie can swear, but I can't? How's that fair?"
"How could she just misquote you like that?" Winona hissed furiously, turning to look at her cousin.
"How'd you know I didn't say that?" Harry asked lowly, rightfully bitter over Skeeter's words.
"Because I've met you?" she said without pause. Across from her, Ginny snorted again. "Want me to go scare the life outta Creevey for saying you've been shacking up with Hermione?" she offered distantly, folding the paper and chucking it onto the table, picking up a slice of watermelon instead.
Hermione's cheeks went pink at the words, but Harry just groaned and dropping his head, letting it bang against the table in a very Winona-like move.
"What's the matter, Potter?" came a nasally voice from a table over. "Crying some more about your dead mum?"
It was Pansy Parkinson, a fourth year Slytherin. She and her little group of followers all cackled like the quip were the most clever thing said since Shakespeare. Winona fished out her wand, muttering a spell as she flicked it in Parkinson's direction. The hex hit her in the face, a sardines began to shoot from her nose like gross little bullets.
She screamed, the sound loud and piercing in the half-empty Hall. Everyone stared in surprise, some people laughing, and from further down the Gryffindor table, Fred and George began to cheer loudly.
Harry looked back up from the table, a reluctant grin on his face. Winona put away her wand, just glad she'd been able to make him smile.
She knew she couldn't avoid her friends forever – although she certainly wouldn't have been against trying – and while she stayed close by Harry and Hermione all through dinner and on her way back up to the common room, eventually there came the moment she'd been dreading. Bed time.
Her friends all sat in a tight group in the far corner of the common room, and Winona knew they were talking about her from the furtive glances they were sending her way. She couldn't blame them – they'd just discovered a giant secret she'd kept from them for years. She'd want to talk about it too.
Fred and George sat with them, but from what Winona could see, they were being awfully tight-lipped on the subject. She silently thanked their unwavering loyalty. Even with everything else going on between them, they were still on her side. She suddenly truly understood what that old saying meant; the one about sticking together through both thick and thin.
Hermione could see her hesitating, glancing anxiously between her group of friends and the door leading to the dormitories. "You have to go to bed sometime, Winona," the fourth year told her logically. "And you can't avoid them forever."
It wasn't anything she didn't already know, but Winona still scowled at her anyway, as if the words were a personal betrayal. Hermione just stared back, pity in her eyes that made Winona itch to hit something.
"They're your friends," Hermione continued before she could do any such thing. "They're not going to treat you any differently."
"I've been lying to them for years," Winona replied, the words bitter and full of a bubbling self-hatred that she didn't want to have to admit to.
"No, you just haven't told them something. That's different," Hermione argued. Winona grimaced at her. The words were hardly comforting. "I'm sure there are things they haven't told you, you know," Hermione continued in the same breath. "We all have secrets."
But Winona wasn't in the state of mind to absorb Hermione's intelligent insight. "I should have told them," she said gloomily, scowling at the rug beneath her feet.
"You were protecting yourself," said Harry, surprising her. She'd forgotten he was there, sitting to the girls' left, reluctantly going over his notes from Transfiguration the day before (probably at Hermione's insistence). "Besides, Dumbledore told you not to tell them," he added as though it solved everything. "They can hardly blame you for just following orders."
"The Nazis were just following orders too, Harry."
Harry snorted with wry laughter and Hermione tutted in exasperation. "Don't be so dramatic," she told the older girl sternly.
"The thing is, I told Fred and George," Winona said, turning a little more in her seat to face her younger friends, lowering her voice so a pair of passing third years didn't hear. "They're not going to like that the twins knew, but they didn't."
"But your relationship's different with Fred and George," said Hermione logically. "It's deeper. Anyone with eyes can see that. It makes sense that they'd know." Winona sighed, squeezing her eyes shut tight and tipping her head back until it knocked against the back of the couch, a small groan escaping her lips. "This isn't homework – it's not something you can procrastinate."
Winona cracked open one eye to appraise Hermione thoughtfully. "Was that a joke or a dig?"
"Can't it be both?"
Harry chuckled from beside her but Winona just sighed loudly, unable to find it in herself to so much as smile. "Hermione's right, Winnie," said Harry, voice low and somehow comforting in the way that only family could be. It was something she was slowly learning to like, and to understand. "It'll be okay. Ange, Katie and Alicia are all great. I know they'll understand," he added encouragingly.
Winona cast her eyes to her friends again, all of whom were leant into one another, whispering amongst themselves quickly, no doubt preparing whatever they were planning to say to her when they got her alone.
"Maybe I'll just hang out down here with you guys for awhile longer," Winona said, like an absolute coward.
Hermione and Harry both rolled their eyes. "Well you can't, because I'm heading to bed," said Hermione primly, not in any way subtle. She cast Harry a meaningful glance.
"Oh, uh, me too," he said dumbly, scrambling to his feet.
Winona glared at the frizzy-haired witch. "You're mean," she said grouchily.
"You'll get into fistfights with Slytherins, but you won't have a serious discussion with your friends?" Hermione asked critically. Winona pouted, though it did little good. "Go up to your dorm and face the music, Winnie," she said, tone laced with exasperation. "You'll be an adult in a matter of months – how about you act like it?"
It was harsh, but nonetheless true, and Winona sighed heavily. Hermione smiled, small and tinged with that annoying sympathy, watching as the sixth year stood slowly to her feet. Uncaring who was watching, Winona leant in to scoop Harry into a hug.
"I don't think it will, but if it does go badly, for whatever reason, you're welcome to come up to my dorm for the night. I'm happy to kip on the floor," her cousin offered kindly, and Winona smiled into his shoulder, squeezing affectionately.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, stepping back and reaching up to ruffle his untamable hair.
He smiled, small and weary but altogether supportive before they went their separate ways – Hermione and Winona up the stairs to the right, and Harry to the left. The girls parted at Hermione's dorm, which was two doors down from Winona's. "Good luck," Hermione whispered, smiling encouragingly before slipping into her dorm.
Winona's dorm was empty, as she knew it would be – all her friends still gathering their nerve to approach her down in the common room. Not for the first time, Winona wished boys were allowed up to the girls' dorms. She'd have given anything for Fred and George to be with her when this went down – but she knew she couldn't rely on them for everything, all the time. At some point she was going to have to grow up and face the consequences for her actions, whether she was holding her best friends' hands or not.
She showered for an extra long time, indulging in the scalding hot water against her skin. It didn't wash away her troubles, but her tense muscles relaxed just a little under the heat, and the scent of her lavender soap was calming in a gentle, familiar kind of way.
Once she couldn't justify standing under the spray any longer, Winona climbed out and dressed in an old pair of flannel pyjama pants and the paint-splattered shirt she usually wore to bed, before pulling on one of her older Weasley sweaters, its soft woollen texture against her skin just as calming as her soap had been.
After drying her hair and brushing her teeth, she stepped out into the dorm hoping it would be empty, and being immediately disappointed.
Angelina, Alicia and Katie were all standing around her bed, quite clearly waiting for her to emerge. Hope wasn't there, but she wasn't too surprised – she could usually be found in the library or off with her girlfriend until the last possible moment before curfew.
Winona silently prayed to Godric Gryffindor for some courage as she tugged the sleeves of her sweater down over her fingers and gingerly approached.
"Winnie," said Katie in greeting, and her tone wasn't combative – a small comfort.
"Hey," Winona replied, aware of how awkward she sounded but not sure how to fix it. She stood before them, hands wringing together with anxiety. What were they meant to say? And who was meant to say it?
Her three friends exchanged a long glance, and Winona's mouth felt dry. In the end, it was Alicia who spoke, a soft sort of look on her face. "Is it true?" she asked, quiet but full of curiosity.
Winona swallowed thickly, crossing her arms over her chest and balling the material of her sweater into her fists. "The twins didn't confirm it?" she asked, surprised.
"They wouldn't say a word," said Angelina, a deep frown gracing her pretty features, like this troubled her greatly.
"Left us to speculate for ourselves," continued Alicia, with a little less disapproval. "They'd never betray your trust like that," she added, a small smile on her face, almost wistful. Winona felt a surge of warmth for the twins, even despite it all, but stamped it down before it could threaten to consume her.
"But it's true, isn't it? And they know?" pushed Angelina, refusing to give. Katie elbowed the taller girl in reprimand for her lack of tact, but Angelina ignored it, staring back at Winona, her eyes hard and unyielding.
She was suddenly faced with the same argument she'd offered to Dumbledore: she could deny it. But even as she knew this to be a possibility, she recalled her Headmaster's wise words. There was no use in denying it. People had probably already made up their own minds.
Besides, did she really want to continue living a lie? Did she want to layer on more and more untruths, one after the other, until she was all but drowning in her own lies?
"It's true," she said faintly, feeling her hands tremble at the dangerous honesty. She tilted her chin just slightly up, hoping she'd look confident, even if she didn't feel it. "I'm a Seer."
Katie looked stunned, as though she hadn't expected it to actually be true; Alicia was smiling sadly, probably full of sympathy for her plight; and Angelina was frowning, anything but impressed by her confession.
"So, you've just been lying to us this whole time? Ever since we met?" asked Angelina, and the accusation stung Winona like a hex.
"Dumbledore made me swear not to tell," she said, but an excuse was still an excuse no matter how true it was.
"Didn't seem to stop you from telling the twins," Angelina replied hotly.
That was true, and she was already on such an honesty kick, she couldn't stomach the thought of starting to lie now. "I know – but Fred sort of discovered my secret, and it was either fess up or Obliviate him … and since I didn't know how to do that at the time…" she trailed off meaningfully.
"But then you let him tell George," said Angelina, and it wasn't a question.
Winona levelled her with an utterly unimpressed expression. "Have you met them? They're joined at the hip. Arguing would have been pointless. Besides, I wanted George to know."
"But not us," said Katie in what Winona realised sounded like the natural end of that sentence.
"That's not what I meant."
"Sure seemed like it," countered Angelina smartly, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
"Seems to me like you're planning to persecute me no matter what I say, Ange," she sniped, her hackles rising in response to her words. Angelina didn't respond but to narrow her eyes until they were no more than small, beady slits.
"Winnie isn't on trial, Ange," Alicia spoke quietly, but not so quietly that Winona couldn't hear. "She didn't tell us, so what? I'm sure there're things we haven't told her over the years," she said logically, and Winona felt about ready to collapse at her feet in gratitude.
"I wouldn't have lied. Not about something this big," Angelina insisted, eyes flickering from Winona, to Alicia and back again. "I sleep five feet away from you," she continued, voice wobbling with emotion. "I deserve to know who I'm sharing a room with."
Both Katie and Alicia looked about as blindsided by the words as Winona felt. "She's not a serial killer, Ange," Katie reminded her evenly. "She only sees the future. It's hardly a threat to your safety."
"I deserved to know," Angelina protested, becoming something of a broken record. The words were an echo of what Winona had told Dumbledore, the night she'd discovered Sirius Black was her father. The comparison made her heart hurt.
"Maybe the reason I didn't tell you sooner was because I thought you'd react kind of like this, Ange," Winona said, taking herself by surprise.
"You didn't tell me at all," she argued, standing from where she'd been sat on the edge of Winona's bed, hands on her hips, expression like that of a furious professor. "I had to find out in a copy of The Prophet. Merlin, Winona – Rita Skeeter knew before us."
"I'm sorry," Winona told her abruptly, something she hadn't been expecting herself to say. Angelina looked surprised by the apology, stopping her hounding to blink, unsure how to react. Winona took a moment to examine exactly what it was that she was sorry for. "I'm sorry that you're upset, and that you feel betrayed," she began, steadily gaining confidence. "But this was my business, not yours. It was my secret to tell – and in the end I didn't even get that." Winona sighed, reaching up to run her fingers through her damp, blonde hair. "I just want things to go back to normal," she said, a confession she hadn't been prepared to give.
Pity passed over her friends' faces, and she ground her teeth together in frustration. She was so sick of pity.
"Did you have a vision, that time in third year when you drew a three-headed dog on the blackboard?" asked Alicia suddenly. Winona looked up in surprise.
"Uh, yeah," she confirmed awkwardly. "That was a vision."
"Why did you have a vision of a three-headed dog?" Alicia pressed, face scrunched in confusion.
And this was one of the things she was afraid of; being asked questions she simply couldn't answer. "Sometimes the things I see are personal," she began, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as if she wanted to run away. She stayed put, staring back at her friends with as much confidence as she could muster. "I can't always tell or show you everything I see. If I do, bad things could happen."
"Well, you certainly think highly of yourself," muttered Angelina bitterly, Alicia turned to her, disapproval in her eyes.
"Ange," she hissed sternly.
"It's okay, Alicia," Winona said calmly, her eyes on Angelina. "I'm a Seer," she continued, staring at her skeptical friend intently. "That means something that even I don't really understand yet. But I know that I have to be careful. I know that everything I do has to be thought out, weighed against the greater good."
Angelina scowled, still unconvinced. Winona didn't know why she was so bitter, or being so cruel about the whole thing. Was it just because of the lies, or did it go deeper than that?
She turned her eyes instead to Alicia and Katie, both of whom were frowning, but not in anger or disgust, but rather just a genuine confusion. "Can you forgive me?" she asked them quietly.
Alicia smiled, small and tentative. "Of course we can, Win."
Katie nodded in ardent agreement, while Angelina merely looked away, staring at the clock on the far wall like it were more interesting than this conversation.
"But can we promise that there'll be no more secrets from here on out?" asked Katie hopefully.
Winona tried not to gulp. "Yeah," she agreed tentatively. "Okay."
And she felt like utter shite as she said it, because the more she thought about it, the more secrets began piling up in the back of her head. The visions she couldn't talk about; the mess that was her relationship – if it could be called that – with Jeremiah; Harry being her cousin; her dad being Sirius fucking Black. The lies were growing like fungi in her brain, and she felt her throat turn tight as they screamed from inside her head, guilt like an enemy in her heart.
But some things she just couldn't come clean about. She couldn't be honest about Sirius – if things were difficult now that they knew she was a Seer, how much more difficult would they get if everyone knew she was the daughter of the wizarding world's most wanted criminal?
Besides, the less people who knew, the better. It was safer that way. But for who, she couldn't say.
"Are we okay?" she asked her friends cautiously, knowing in her heart that they weren't – but that she was the only one who had to live with knowing that.
"Now that you've aired all your dirty laundry?" Katie asked with a playful smirk on her pretty face. "Hmm … I suppose so."
Alicia grinned in agreement. "I feel good about this. A pact between women is a tighter bond than even the Unbreakable Vow," she added lightly. "No more secrets."
Winona's insides dropped out from beneath her, and she knew this lie, more than any of the others, was going to haunt her. So, it was with a heavy heart and the knowledge that she was simply a terrible person on a fundamental level, that she agreed. "No more secrets."
The next day passed quickly, and Winona found she had to acclimatise to a brand new normal.
Things were still tense and cold between her and Fred, but now that the entire school knew her secret, he'd gotten over the majority of his ire and instead spent most of his time at her side – along with George – watching out for anyone pushing her to read their fortune, or tell them who would win the Triwizard Tournament. People seemed less inclined to approach her with them beside her, wands twirling in their hands, threatening to send a Biting Jinx at anyone who came too close.
They didn't speak to one another much, but it was still better than the downright hostility that had hovered between them before. Neither she nor Fred had yet made any move to apologise, but Winona wasn't going to press the issue. Things would work out – because it was her and Fred, and they just had to.
At dinner that night, Winona was unsurprised to find herself sitting between the twins, each of them perched on her either side as if they were gargoyles warding a castle from harm. She appreciated their presence, and even with the lingering tension between her and Fred, she was still glad to have them there, tall and unpromising in their support.
The others all sat opposite them, and while Alicia, Lee and Katie were fine, Angelina had yet to speak a word to Winona, acting as if she wasn't even there. Fred and George seemed their usual selves, laughing and joking with those nearby, but Winona could see the tense way Fred was holding his shoulders, and didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on Angelina. She wondered what he might be thinking, but distracted herself with talking to George about the Weird Sister's upcoming album, and whether the engagement rumours of their bassist, Donaghan Tremlett, were true.
Little known fact about George Weasley – he could be an awfully large gossip when he wanted to be.
George and Katie were just getting into a game of rating each of the Weird Sisters members on a scale from 1-10 in hotness, when Winona felt eyes on her. Her skin tingled with awareness. At first she thought it might have been Angelina, who'd taken to frowning at her intermittently throughout the meal. But when she looked over, Angelina was busy talking to Lee about the Transfiguration essay due the following week, so it wasn't her.
Following the insistent tug in her gut, Winona's eyes slid across the Great Hall to where the Slytherin table sat, the students along it all wearing deep green and silver ties. And she was right – Jeremiah was staring at her, eyes beady and dark, focused on her with all the intensity of a threat.
Winona reached up to wrap a hand around her parched throat. Like his eyes were some kind of snare, she found she couldn't look away. Jeremiah jerked his head in the direction of the entrance hall, and Winona felt her stomach swoop with nerves.
Glancing down at her half-full plate, she found she wasn't really very hungry anyway. "I think I'm going to call it a night," she said abruptly, and the twins turned to her as though they'd been summoned.
"We'll walk you back up to the tower," said Fred without a shred of hesitation. Things might have been awful between them, but he wasn't going to let her go about alone.
"No, you stay here; eat. I'll head head up alone," she told him patiently. A crease appeared between ginger eyebrows as he frowned. Clearly he didn't like the idea of her wandering the castle alone, and she didn't either, if she were honest.
But she didn't want to tell him she was meeting Jeremiah. Her friendship with Fred was tenuous at best at the moment, and she knew how furious Jeremiah made him. The last thing she wanted to do was add fuel to that fire, lest he made any other absolutely cutting comments that would keep her awake for more days on end.
"Winnie can take care of herself, Fred," said Alicia from her place across the table, exasperated.
"Besides, she'll just See any trouble and go a different route," added Lee brightly, a flicker of amusement to his dark eyes. "Right, Win?"
Rolling her eyes, Winona didn't bother to reply. "I'll see you guys back up in the common room," she said evenly, standing to her feet and stepping away from the table. "Maybe bring me up some pie after dessert?"
"You got it, sweet cheeks," Lee winked.
Deciding not to bother replying, Winona simply rolled her eyes and turned to leave, trying to slow her racing pulse down with nothing but her sheer power of will.
What did Jeremiah want? Did he want to talk, or did he just want a shag? The former would have surprised her, honestly. He was predictable in his thinking patterns. He wasn't the type to meet up for a chat.
She walked through the door, stepping out into the entrance hall to find him leaning against the far wall, out of sight from the students sitting beyond the doors, chattering happily and filling their stomachs with food. "Hey," she greeted him, slowly approaching, arms crossed uncomfortably over her chest.
"Andrews," he greeted her, the sound of her fake surname sharp and impersonal on his lips. She stopped a few feet away from him, unsure if it was wise to get any closer. "I caught yesterday's edition of The Prophet," he began casually, and Winona swallowed around the lump sitting like an iron ball in her throat. "I was quite surprised by one article in particular."
Winona didn't want to skirt around the issue. The vague way in which he spoke only irritated her. "Are you mad I didn't tell you?" she asked warily.
Jeremiah's eyebrow hitched up in something like surprise. "So it is true, then," he said, and she realised that, until that moment, he hadn't quite believed it. "I'd have hardly picked you for a Seer," he continued on, brutally honest.
She felt like that were some kind of thinly-veiled insult, and frowned. "What do you want, Jeremiah?" she demanded, proud of how steady her voice came out.
"I wanted to see you," he said. "Is that such a crime?"
Surprised, Winona blinked back at him without speaking. She knew all the words, but they didn't make sense. He'd never said anything so … sweet, before. But then he had to open his mouth and ruin it.
"We could slip into an empty classroom," he suggested keenly. "Everyone's busy with dinner, so they won't miss us."
Of course all he wanted was a shag. Assessing herself, Winona knew she just didn't feel like it. Didn't feel like letting this boy paw at her like an animal in heat. Didn't feel like losing herself in skin against skin – no matter how good it could sometimes be. All she wanted was to curl up in front of a roaring fire and sketch to her heart's content.
"Not today. Sorry, I don't feel like it," she said gently, stepping around him, her heart already set on the couch in front of the fire up in her common room. She could already smell the ashy scent the charcoal would give off as she smeared it across paper.
Winona was stunned when Jeremiah's arm shot out, his hand curling tightly around her arm, stopping her from leaving. Her heart swooped and a bad feeling appeared in her stomach, like something heavy had settled low in her gut.
"Come on," he sneered, voice like acid, and she couldn't deny the fear that began to curdle in her veins. "What, you got your five minutes of fame, and now you're too good for me?" he goaded her.
Frowning, Winona extracted her arm from his hold. "No, I'm just tired," she told him slowly, like she were talking to a wild animal. Like he might snap and attack at any moment. "I'd rather just go up to bed."
But Jeremiah looked anything but understanding. "Fine," he snapped, short and sharp as he took a large step away from her. "But don't come crying to me next time you're feeling lonely."
That felt unnecessarily rude, and she was speechless as she watched the Slytherin turn and storm his way back into the Great Hall.
He was pissed because she'd said no to sex? She wasn't his personal whore – no matter what Fred seemed to think – and she had no obligation to shag him whenever he felt a passing fancy.
The realisation stuck a chord within her, and although there was nobody around to see, she lifted her head just a little bit higher. She may have lost her dignity, but in amongst all of it she'd gained a new shard of self-respect. She wasn't going to be somebody's whore. She wasn't going to let herself be used.
She was finally going to do something about it.
A/N: I can't believe we've made it over 500 reviews. You guys are the best. The reactions from last chapter differed quite a bit, and I'm not surprised. Some of you thought what Fred said was abusive and cruel – and in a way, it was – but he didn't mean it in a manipulative way at all. He was jealous, and he's still so young and inexperienced. He doesn't know how to properly channel his emotions yet. Things are slowly beginning to get better – I promise. Hang in there.
Review of the week goes to RainbowLabs – thanks so much for your review. You're right, we haven't delved much into the Sirius/Winona dynamic. But I promise you, in the coming chapters you'll start to see it happening, and you'll see why I've waited…
Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you next time!