Winona found great pleasure in baking. She always had. It was different to art, but still creative, and as she pulled her seventh straight batch of cookies from the oven, she thought that if she wasn't planning to become an artist, she'd probably open up a bakery instead.

People meandered in and out of the kitchen as she worked, already eating away at the endless stream of cookies she'd baked. Fred was most frequent, making excuses to pop down to see her and steal another cookie as he did. Winona ended up rolling her eyes and just baking a small batch of Brown Butter Bourbon Spice cookies – Fred's all-time favourite – that she hid off to the side for him to munch on during his visits.

Sirius sat in the corner, a copy of the day's Prophet in front of him, attention split between the words on the page and the way he was stuffing himself with cookies. Winona worked extra hard to make even more cookies, just so her dad would have extras to eat once she was back at school.

They talked quietly, him reading out bad articles in the paper and making up creative insults for the writers whenever they tossed in Harry's name as the butt of a joke. Harry wandered down eventually, too, and Winona plied him with enough biscuits for him to take back up to his room and share with Ron.

And despite her non-stop work, it was an easy day. Calm and unbothered, focusing her attention on nothing but the next batch of cookies and what kind of tea to brew next – it was exactly the sort of final day she'd have wanted for the summer holidays.

People began to arrive for dinner – Tonks and Remus first, walking in together casually, though Winona was hardly fooled. Tension crackled between them like electricity, and she wondered if she was the only person who knew what was going on beneath the surface of it all. Either way, her lips were sealed.

It wasn't until Kingsley wandered into the room that Winona figured out it wasn't just any old dinner. "Molly sent an owl," Kingsley explained around one of her snickerdoodles. "We're having a party to celebrate Ron and Hermione being chosen as prefects."

Winona frowned. "But do they even want a party?"

Kingsley chuckled, the sound like liquid chocolate being poured over hot marshmallows. "I think it probably isn't really up to them, once Molly's gotten involved. These are delicious by the way – what's in them?"

Mrs Weasley finally arrived back, her arms laden with their schoolbooks and a wrapped broom hooked over her rounded shoulder. Sirius and Remus stood to their feet to help her, and she thanked them briskly before looking at Winona. "Would you mind making up a banner, dear?" she asked hopefully.

"A banner?" Winona echoed around one of her own cookies. "What for?"

"We're celebrating Ron and Hermione becoming prefects," Mrs Weasley grinned brightly. "We need to make it all a little more special than usual."

Winona wasn't sure she agreed, but Kingsley was right; Mrs Weasley was a frightful force of nature. Best just to do as she was told. She put down the last batch of cookies and went to work on a banner just as Mrs Weasley got started on dinner. The banner was cheesy, done in glittering red and gold, but Winona figured no one really cared.

When Ron and Hermione finally wandered down just before dinner began, their faces went bright red at the fuss being made – but Winona could tell they were secretly pleased. The twins came down with them, and Winona made her way to their side, bumping her fist with George's when she reached them.

"I thought we'd have a little party – not a sit-down dinner," Mrs Weasley chirped as they slipped into the room. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled."

Fred made a sour face and rolled his eyes. Winona wound an arm around his middle and squeezed. She knew he didn't really care about being a prefect, but even now she struggled to think of a time Mrs Weasley had been proud enough of him to throw an entire party. He wasn't jealous, exactly, but maybe just a tiny bit miffed. Not that he'd ever willingly admit it.

Harry called her name and she looked up just in time to catch the butterbeer he threw her way. She uncapped it and held it up in thanks, taking a deep sip just as Mad-Eye stomped into the kitchen, the sound of his wooden leg against the floorboards loud and grating.

"Oh, Alastor, I'm glad you're here," Mrs Weasley called from where she was cutting up some carrots for their dinner. "We've been wanting to ask you for ages – could you have a look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell us what's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in case it's something really nasty."

Moody's electric-blue eye swivelled upwards and stared fixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen. "Drawing room… Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it… Yeah, it's a boggart. Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"

"No, no, I'll do it myself later. You have your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration, actually…" She gestured at the scarlet banner Winona had begrudgingly put together. "Fourth prefect in the family!"

Mr Weasley and Bill arrived, Mundungus not far behind, and Fred gave Winona's hip a gentle squeeze before he and George casually began to make their way to the other end of the room where the slimy little dimwit was waiting with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his overcoat.

Whatever was going on there was hardly legal, and Winona smiled as she turned a blind eye and loudly told Mrs Weasley how wonderful her stew smelled.

"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr Weasley once everyone was there and accounted for, a drink in their hands. He raised his goblet. "To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"

Ron went red again, but look doubly pleased as he took a sip of butterbeer. Winona saw Harry clapping for them supportively and grinned to herself as she sipped her own drink.

"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks offhandedly as everybody lunged for the food. Winona got herself a plate, piling it high with minced pies and creamed corn and chicken legs. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" asked Ginny curiously, attention half on the spread of food before her.

"Like the ability to behave myself."

Winona laughed, shaking her head, and took a seat between Sirius and Ginny to eat her food. "What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked curiously.

Sirius let out his usual bark-like laugh. "No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James," he said, a warm look in his stormy eyes. "Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," added Remus with a smile flickering at his lips. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally. The only prefect who could ever control you was Jessica."

Winona sat up straighter. "Jessica?" she asked, looking at her dad searchingly. "My mother was a prefect?"

"Nobody was really surprised," Sirius chuckled. "We thought she was a shoo-in for Head Girl in her seventh year, but for some reason Dumbledore went Eliza Stanley instead. You should have seen how furious Jess was."

"Threatened to go on strike, didn't she?" Remus added with a matching grin on his face. "As though that might have changed the Headmaster's mind."

Sirius' only response was a smile a little too thin to be without any sadness.

Remus' expression softened. "She was a force to be reckoned with," he murmured, eyes glazed with hazy memories of the distant past. Winona grimaced, pain like an itch in her sternum. She rubbed the sore area, even knowing it would do no good. Remus seemed to realise she'd become introspective and turned to Hermione and Ginny, joining their conversation about House-Elf rights.

Sirius remained quiet and Winona finished off another mince pie. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but at least a little bit strained, if only with pain and yearning for the long-since dead. Winona didn't want to keep thinking about Jessica – it did her no good – so she turned to Sirius and forced a smile onto her lips.

"I'll see you at Christmas, won't I?" she asked hopefully.

Sirius blinked like he were coming out of the depths of his thoughts, climbing arduously back up for air. "Oh, yes, of course," he said once he was back in the moment with her. "I don't know how festive it'll be, though, stuck in this dank old dump."

Winona waved a hand dismissively. "We'll be together; that's all that matters."

Sirius smiled widely. "What a cliché," he said, but Winona could tell he liked it.

He was quiet again, but she was content to let their conversation fade. A hum of chatter filled the basement. If Winona listened hard enough, she could pick out Ron's voice, excitedly listing the features of his new broomstick to anyone who would listen; and Bill telling his mother that no, she absolutely could not cut his hair, no matter how long she thought it was getting; and Moody growling at Tonks over the last of the roast pumpkin.

"Where d'you s'pose you'll be?" Sirius asked, taking her by surprise. "This time next year, I mean."

She turned to look at him, finding him with a curious frown on his face, the expression angled into his mound of chicken legs and apple sauce on the plate before him. "I dunno," she said, watching his reaction. "I'm not the type to make plans that far into the future."

He looked amused by the comment. "Pup, you're a Seer."

Winona laughed. "Yeah, I know, but that means half my life is already spent in the future. And so when, by some miracle, I get to spend my time in the present, I like to damn well enjoy it."

Sirius picked up a chicken leg, taking a bite and chewing before he spoke. "D'you think you'll want to move out on your own?" he asked her, so soft she nearly missed it. He was staring down at his plate, hiding his expression from her.

It took her a moment to form an answer. "Well, if things continue the way they're going now, I'm not exactly going to be able to rent out a flat in central London, am I?" she said dryly, taking another bite of her food.

Sirius nodded in agreement, but she couldn't help noticing how dulled he seemed. She got the feeling her answer hadn't been the one he'd wanted to hear.

Taking a beat to chew and swallow her mouthful, Winona ducked her head to catch her father's eye. "I only just got this little family of ours," she told him, the words exposing her in a way she didn't like. It was as if her chest had been peeled back to reveal her beating heart, but she continued on anyway, because he needed her to. "I'm really not in that much of a hurry to leave it."

And finally Sirius smiled, unable to hide the relief in his eyes. He nodded again, and Winona gingerly reached out to take his large hand in hers, squeezing reassuringly.

From the corner of her eye, Winona saw a flash of red hair. She turned to see the twins huddled in the corner with Mundungus, and they appeared to be haggling intently over their latest illicit purchase.

"Excuse me," she said to her dad, pulling back her hand. "I have to go…put out a fire."

Sirius let her go with a grin, turning his attention to Remus and Hermione, who were locked in a passionate debate over House-Elf rights.

Mundungus looked up as she approached, but just as suddenly lost interest and returned his focus to the twins. "It was a right mess, gettin' these," he was complaining. "Spent over'n hour down in Knockturn Alley. Nearly got me gold nicked by a bloody Niffler."

"Oh, we're so sorry you've suffered so," drawled George sarcastically, less than impressed.

"Almost had a Goblin run me through with a sword, too," Mundungus grumbled. "Wouldn't be so funny if your supplier lost an arm to Goblin-violence, now, would it?"

"What'd you risk your arm for, this time?" Winona asked, an eyebrow cocked. George opened his fist to reveal an impressive hoard of Venomous Tentacula seeds. They buzzed in warning, and Winona tried not to flinch away from them. Last time she'd come face-to-face with a Venomous Tentacula plant, she'd nearly been killed. That'd been a particularly rough Herbology lesson. Winona looked away with a grimace. "For the Skiving Snackboxes?"

Fred grinned wide as he wound an arm around her middle, pulling her firmly into his side. "You remembered," he said warmly.

Winona rolled her eyes. "I do that, on occasion."

An unmistakable head of inky black hair grew closer, and Mundungus fell silent as Harry approached, eyeing Harry with undeserved suspicion. "It's okay," Fred assured Mundungus, "we can trust Harry, he's our financial backer."

"Look what Dung's got us," added George, opening his hand to give Harry a peek at the treasure within. "Venomous Tentacula seeds. We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes but they're a Class C Non-Tradeable Substance, so we've been having a bit of trouble getting hold of them."

Harry looked dubious, and Winona smiled wanly. "You really thought these two weren't going to take advantage of having a crook in the Order?"

"Crook?" echoed Mundungus, apparently offended by the offhanded comment. "I'm an upstanding businessman, I am."

Winona scoffed. "In what version of reality?"

"Ten Galleons for the lot, then, Dung?" Fred interjected quickly, sensing the oncoming squabble and stopping it before it could begin.

"With all the trouble I went to to get 'em?" Mundungus replied. "Sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty."

Fred rolled his eyes. "Dung likes his little joke," he said to Harry, a confident smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of Knarl quills," added George.

But Harry seemed more concerned that Mrs Weasley would get wise to the stunt the twins were pulling – illegal dealings right under her nose? They'd be hung from the ceiling by their ankles, and they all knew it. "Be careful," her cousin warned them quietly, glancing anxiously at where Mrs Weasley was chatting eagerly with Ron and Tonks, a wide, proud smile on her face. She practically glowed.

"Mum's too busy cooing over Prefect Ron," Fred assured him. "We're okay."

"But Moody could have his eye on you," Harry pointed out.

Winona wasn't entirely sure whether Harry was genuinely concerned, or whether he knew it was exactly what he had to say to make Mundungus cave. Either way, the smarmy bastard looked warily over his shoulder at where Moody was stabbing violently at his leg of lamb, as though it had personally wronged him.

"Good point, that," he grunted nervously. "All right, lads, ten it is. If you'll take 'em quick."

He emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands, then shuffled away, leaping into Mr Weasley and Bill's conversation as though he'd always been part of it.

"Cheers, Harry!" beamed Fred.

"You're crafty, Boy-Wonder, I'll give you that," Winona added, punching her cousin playfully in the shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes.

"We'd better get these upstairs…" said George. Mrs Weasley was still completely focused on a blushing Ron, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Coming?" he asked Winona, who quickly nodded her head.

Fred's hands were full, so she wound her arm around the crook of his elbow and followed them up the four flights of narrow stairs to reach their bedroom. She opened the door for them, watching as George put his pile carefully on the bed before moving over to his storage crate and cracking it open.

"Shame we won't have access to Dung during term," said Fred conversationally, handing over his large pile of Tentacula seeds before flopping down on the bed. Winona let out a squeal as his arms caught her by the waist on his way down, bringing her onto the bed with him. The springs squeaked in protest under their combined weight, but neither cared, laid sprawled on the bed as George set about organising his potion ingredients.

"Think he'll let us do deals by owl?" mused George, far too used to their playful flirting to be bothered.

"I wouldn't risk it," Winona shook her head. "The Ministry's already started to randomly intercept owls, and it's only going to get worse from here. The last thing we need is a criminal charge for purchase of illicit goods."

"Fair point," said Fred, absent-mindedly tugging at a loose lock of her blonde hair. "We'll have to arrange a meet-up in Hogsmeade, do our trade that way. You think Rosmerta will turn a blind eye to us meeting at the Inn?"

Fred and George kept talking, but their voices began to drift from Winona's consciousness. Like they were speaking from underwater, everything around her felt muddled and distant. Her vision began to bleed away, replaced by a bright white light that had no source.

A flash of colour, sudden and unwelcome – Fred and George sprawled on a dusty floor, lifeless and pale, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling, dust collecting on their open eyes. She didn't even realise she'd screamed until she felt hands braced on her shoulders and saw Fred's face – alive and filled with concern – in front of her eyes.

"…Win?" he was asking urgently. "Where's your bag? George, grab a quill!"

"No," she said, and the twins fell still in surprise. "It…it was short – I saw…" she trailed off, trying to make sense of what she'd seen. It was going to happen any minute – but the twins were right here with her. Unless You-Know-Who himself burst in and killed them both where they stood, she couldn't imagine anything was going to be a threat to their lives right now.

Which only left the possibility that it was some kind of illusion…

"Mrs Weasley," she said before the thought had even fully formed in her mind.

"What? Mum?" asked George, looking pale in the low light. "Is she going to be okay?"

Winona's only answer was to shove off Fred's hands and shoot to her feet. She left the twins gaping at her in surprise as she darted from the bedroom, making a break for the stairs. The wooden steps creaked loudly under her weight, and she nearly slipped down them in her fluffy socks, but she ignored it all, barrelling towards the drawing room with the sort of speed usually reserved for cheetahs and the desperate.

Mrs Weasley was cowering against the wall, sobbing loudly as she trembled all over, her wand hanging limp and useless in her hand. And in front of her was the corpse of Ron, lifeless and still, a look of pain on his frozen face.

Not Ron – of course it wasn't Ron – they were safe here, in Grimmauld Place. Which meant it was a boggart. Winona had been taught how to handle boggarts years before, but the last thing they needed was for her to be in a state like Mrs Weasley, and with the sort of horrors in her head, it was bound to happen.

So instead Winona did the smart thing and rushed back out of the room with such speed that she was caught painfully by the railing on the staircase. "Moony!" she screamed down the shaft, hoping he could hear her through through the two floors between them. "Moony! We need you!"

Footsteps slapped against the stairs, but it wasn't Moony who appeared. Harry's green eyes were wide and alarmed.

"Mrs Weasley – boggart – s'not really Ron," Winona babbled.

Harry pushed past her, eyes going wider still as he took in the scene before him. Winona looked over his shoulder, heart in her feet as she saw the bodies of the twins on the floor in front of them.

"Moony!" Winona screamed over her shoulder again, just as the twins arrived, panting from their sprint, alarm on their faces. But she paid them no mind, stepping around Harry and crouching down beside a trembling Mrs Weasley. "Mrs Weasley," she said in a rough voice, laying a hand on her quaking shoulders. "Mrs Weasley, it's just a boggart. It isn't real."

"Riddikulus!" she shouted, flicking her wand at the fake twins on the floor.

With a crack they morphed shape, transforming into Harry and Winona. A shudder went through Winona at the sight of her and her cousin, laid lifeless and limp over one another, Harry resting atop her chest and her with an arm sprawled over his, like even in this whole fake scenario, they'd died trying to protect each other.

Another loud sob wracked through Mrs Weasley, and Winona wrapped her arm around the woman's trembling form, holding tight as she did her best to ignore the boggart taking her own shape before her.

Harry cried out as he was pushed aside, and then Moony was saying, "Riddikulus," in a very firm, no-nonsense voice. A silvery orb appeared where there had been the two cousins' corpses, and then it vanished rather unceremoniously in a little puff of smoke.

Mrs Weasley kept on sobbing, and Winona held her tighter, scowling up at Remus. "Took you long enough," she sniped. Remus only frowned, and she realised she was being unfair. It was her own fault – she should have Seen it sooner.

Sirius was there too, and so was Moody. The twins hovered in the doorway, all of them staring like she and Mrs Weasley were something in an enclosure at the zoo. Winona cast them a glare that could have turned fire to ice.

"Mrs Weasley," she said again, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down her back. "It was only a boggart. It wasn't real."

"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Mrs Weasley moaned through her hysterical sobs. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it…"

"I know," Winona soothed. "So do I. It's normal."

Sirius was staring at the place his daughter and godson's pretend bodies had lain, a haunted look in his eyes. Lupin handed Mrs Weasley a handkerchief, and she took it, blowing her nose. "D-d-don't tell Arthur. I d-d-don't want him to know… Being silly… Winona – oh, my dear – I'm so sorry. Harry… What must you think of me?" she said shakily, gaze darting between the cousins wearily. "Not even able to get rid of a boggart…"

"Don't be stupid," said Harry with a smile that convinced nobody.

"I couldn't do it either," Winona reminded her. "Had to call my old Defence professor up to deal with it, as if this were fifth year all over again."

But Mrs Weasley wasn't listening. "I'm just s-s-so worried," she said to Remus, tears spilling out of her eyes faster than she could mop them up. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this… and P-P-Percy's not talking to us… What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we've never m-m-made it up with him? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," said Remus, firm but kind. "This isn't like last time. The Order are better prepared, we've got a head start – we've got a Seer, for goodness sake – and we know what Voldemort's up to-"

Mrs Weasley gave a frightened yelp at the sound of the name.

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing his name – look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time. You weren't in the Order then, you don't understand. Last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one…"

Winona's expression was flat. "Is this your best go at a pep talk?" she asked dryly.

Remus made a face but otherwise didn't continue. "Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius abruptly, taking everyone by surprise. "He'll come round. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology."

He sounded distinctly bitter, but Winona liked it. Saw a little of herself in it. She'd had to have gotten her jaded personality from somewhere, after all.

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," added Remus, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?"

"You should know us better than that," Winona said, her arm still wrapped around Mrs Weasley, holding tight like if she squeezed hard enough, she could keep the pieces of her held together. "Besides, neither you, nor Mr Weasley, are dying anytime soon. You're going to live very, very long lives, if I have anything to say about it. And I do, being that I alone have full authority over the future."

Mrs Weasley tried to smile, but her lips quivered, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. Pain twisted in Winona's gut. This wasn't her fault, but she felt bad it had happened at all.

"Being silly," Mrs Weasley muttered again, still mopping at her eyes. She turned to Winona, who realised she was still squeezing her like she were frozen that way and lifted her arm, shuffling awkwardly back across the floor. "Thank you, dear," she said warmly.

Sirius held out a hand and Winona took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

"Why don't you come down to the kitchen?" Remus suggested kindly. "I'll make you some tea."

"Oh, you needn't bother," Mrs Weasley said softly.

Remus smiled. "It's no trouble at all, Molly."

With a final, watery smile Mrs Weasley allowed Remus to guide her out of the room and back down the rickety staircase towards the basement. Sirius lingered in the doorway, and Winona met his eyes, finding worry in their misty depths. "You going to be all right, Pup?"

"Yeah," she said, and when Fred caught her stare from where he was stood with George by the bannister, she realised she even mostly meant it. "I'll see you in the morning?"

Sirius nodded his head, and left to follow in the other adults' wake. Winona turned to Harry, who looked distant, staring at nothing with a faraway look in his emerald eyes.

"Harry?" she asked carefully, and her cousin started in surprise, as if he'd forgotten where they were. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, unconvincing as could be, but she let it slide. "Sleep well, Winnie," he added, smiling tightly before making his way out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom, leaving Winona alone with the twins, who had rather rare looks of concern on their faces.

George took a deep breath. "Anyone else wanna stuff their face with sweets?"

"Aye," Fred and Winona replied as one, and together the three of them made their way back up the stairs, intent on eating enough sweets to put them all into a good sugar coma.


Winona woke up the next day to the sound of her bedroom door shoved open and the light being flicked on. "Winona – it's time to – ahh!" Mrs Weasley's voice abruptly cut off in a yelp, and Winona wrenched open one eye to find her stood in the doorway, a stern scowl on her lips. "Fred Weasley, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing up here?" Mrs Weasley demanded furiously, her cheeks flaming red – although that last bit was probably in part to the shirtless state of her son.

Fred groaned, sitting up with a yawn and scrubbing at his eyes. He was being even bolder than usual, which Winona guessed was because they left for Hogwarts today – meaning Mrs Weasley would be unable to punish him for his actions. Winona's cheeks were pink, too, and she reached for the floor, grabbing uselessly at the floorboards until she found Fred's shirt. It had been thrown off in the excitement of the night before, but now she thrust it at him, a wrinkle in her nose telling him exactly what she thought of his new audacity.

Mrs Weasley was still an alarming shade of red. "This is no state for you to get yourselves into – at your age – you're still children-!"

"Actually, I think you'll find we're both adults," quipped Fred.

Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Well, I'll be sure to mention that part to Sirius when we get downstairs," she said, sweet and sharp, like a poison dart. Fred went pale, and Winona bit her lip to stifle her laughter. "Well? Up you get," Mrs Weasley snapped.

Fred winced. "Er – you may want to leave while I do, Mum," he said, finally a little bit sheepish.

Mrs Weasley looked like she'd be praying to God for patience, were she religious. She threw her arms up as if asking the universe for help coping, then turned to leave, muttering angrily about naughty, degenerate children.

"Wanna actually be naughty for awhile?" Fred asked, leaning into Winona, his warm breath conjuring goosebumps along the flesh where her shoulder met her neck.

She laughed, pushing him backwards. "We have things to do," she told him even as she gave in and pressed their lips together – chastely, because of their morning breath. She sat up, glad Mrs Weasley wasn't around to see her in nothing but a teeshirt and knickers, and began to gather her clothes for the day.

They took turns in the bathroom, then made their way downstairs. They parted ways at Fred's door, where he ducked in to quickly finish stuffing his belongings into his trunk beside an exasperated George. Winona waved at her best friend, then slipped down the remaining flights of stairs to the basement where the kitchen was a hive of activity.

Moody was growling at Tonks and Remus, something about the thin nature of the guard; and Mr and Mrs Weasley were talking loudly about breakfast, in an attempt to be heard over Moody's usual snarls. Sirius was the only quiet one in the room, sat in the far corner, munching on a piece of toast, a cup of steaming coffee in front of him.

Winona made a beeline towards him before she even knew what she was doing. "Hey," she said, sitting beside him, feeling calm settle into her bones.

"Sleep well?" he asked, nudging his cup towards her. She took it with a grateful smile, sipping the coffee within. It was so strong, it might as well have been straight tar, but Winona drank it anyway. Anything to help her stay awake.

"Meh," she said with a shrug, smiling as she recalled the way she and Fred had slept curled around one another, sharing body heat, lulled by the steady pounding of each other's heart.

Sirius saw through her like glass, rolling his eyes, and Winona grinned into his mug. "Excited to be heading back to school?" he asked as she handed back his mug, reaching for the plate of bacon in the middle of the table. He had the day's copy of the Prophet open in front of him, and the front page story seemed to be more gossip than anything else – something about a professional Quidditch player retiring for good.

Winona supposed it was better than yet another story about her mass-murderer of a father or her dirty liar of a cousin. She scowled at the Prophet as if it had grown lips and insulted her.

"Yeah, I s'pose."

"It's your last year," Sirius reminded her – and he really did, because she'd forgotten.

Everything had been happening at such a fast pace – the world around her shifting and pulsing like it was alive – that Winona hadn't taken the time to process this was her last year at Hogwarts. In June they'd have their NEWTs, then after that it was nothing but the clear blue skies of adulthood – or, it would be, were the fate of the world not resting on her cousin's shoulders and the weight of the future on hers.

A war was coming; hurtling towards them with all the speed of an oncoming train. She didn't have the luxury to sit around daydreaming about life outside of school. At this point, she was lucky just to make it through one day, and then the next and the next. Eventually, with any luck, she'd come out the other side. But there was still a long ways to go before that.

"I guess I didn't stop to think about it," she admitted to Sirius, chewing on a strip of crispy bacon. "Was your last year any good?"

Sirius took a deep breath, as if even the good memories were painful to revisit. "It was all right," he said quietly. "Voldemort was beginning to come into power, and people were disappearing overnight. It was a scary time. Not unlike now, really."

Winona pursed her lips, dismay twisting in her gut.

"But really, Pup, just enjoy it while you're there. Cherish it. In years to come, you'll look back at your time at Hogwarts as the best years of your life."

She thought they were probably meant to be comforting, but instead Winona found them haunting. The words of a man who'd had nothing good to cling to but his time in that castle. She felt sad for him, pain making her heart feel hollow, but she forced herself to smile.

"I don't intend to take it for granted," she assured him.

They faded back into easy silence, and from the floor above there was an abrupt scream followed by a loud crash, then the booming voice of her grandmother's portrait screeching at anyone who'd listen. The screeches were joined by Mrs Weasley's thunderous scolding. Winona was wary until she heard Fred and George's names, then she just relaxed in her seat and picked up another rasher of bacon.

Winona glanced at the clock, watching as the hands ticked ever closer to the time they had to leave. She looked at Sirius, finding him also staring at the clock, a frown set deep into his face.

"I wish you could come see us off," she told him quietly, just barely heard over Mrs Weasley's furious rebuke.

She got the feeling she'd said the wrong thing when pain twisted on her father's face. But before she could apologise, Ginny and Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway, a large cut on Ginny's pale arm.

Gasping, Winona leapt to her feet, hurrying over to help Mrs Weasley clean and heal the wound. Time passed all too quickly, and before Winona knew what was happening, they were being shepherded out the door by a frantic Mrs Weasley and a grumpy, grumbling Moody.

"Wait – but Sirius-" said Winona, turning for the doorway where she'd last seen her father loitering.

But in his place was a great, shaggy dog. Winona's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. Padfoot's tongue lolled from his mouth and he seemed to grin, playful and smug, trotting around her and past Harry, whose smile could have powered a small nation.

"Oh, for heavens sake, Sirius! Dumbledore said no!" Mrs Weasley screamed after him, but Padfoot ignored her, nudging his muzzle against Harry's thigh and following the others out of the house. "Oh honestly…" sighed Mrs Weasley, giving up, "well, on your own head be it!"

"Can't believe we have to walk to King's Cross," bemoaned Fred, fingers twined with Winona's, walking towards the middle of the pack. Harry was kept nearby, and the careful positioning didn't escape Winona's notice.

"Oh, poor baby," she said, pouting up at him sarcastically. "Are your feet hurting already?"

Fred didn't look amused. "Just saying – some of us can Apparate," he said, casting a glare at Ginny and Ron where they walked up ahead, as if it were all their fault they had to walk to the station like Muggles.

"Something tells me you'll survive," Winona told him dryly. "You could use the exercise."

"You calling me fat?" Fred shot back, a devious glint in his eyes. Winona wasn't about to walk into what was so obviously a trap and just rolled her eyes. "'Cause, I mean, you certainly weren't complaining I was too heavy last night when-"

The shaggy black dog beside them barked, then made a low growling sound. Fred went white and tried to backtrack.

"Er, what I mean to say is, when you helped me off the floor. Because I'd fallen. Because I'm so clumsy, you see-"

"Oh, shut up," Winona laughed, nudging him to make him stop, amusement sharp and pleasant in her gut. They walked on and she realised this was the first time she'd come out of the house since her attack the week before. She wondered if she should be nervous – then decided she shouldn't. Every precaution was being taken to keep her safe, and besides, she couldn't live her life in fear. If she did, then Voldemort might as well have already won.

The station loomed big and grand up ahead, and by the time they made it to the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten, they were dangerously close to missing the train altogether. Harry and Winona went through with Mrs Weasley first, Sirius close on their heels.

"I hope the others make it in time," said Mrs Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the barrier where the others would appear.

"Winnie!" shouted a familiar voice, and Winona looked up to see Lee walking past. "Nice dog you got there!"

"I call him Snuffles!" she replied happily. "We'll come find you on the train!"

He shot her a pair of finger guns in response, and she was grinning widely by the time Mr Weasley emerged through the barrier with Ron and Hermione in tow. They had almost unloaded Moody's luggage trolley when Fred, George, and Ginny appeared with Lupin.

"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, interjecting before Moody could burst a blood vessel in his complaints about the lack of a proper guard. He shook everyone's hand, and when he reached Harry he clapped him warmly on the shoulder. "You too, Harry. Be careful."

Winona was last and she refused to go without a hug, so she wrapped her arms around him before he could awkward his way out of it, squeezing him tight.

"See you at Christmas, Moony," she said into his shoulder. He patted her gently on the back, and she pulled away with a smile.

"Keep your head down and your eyes peeled," Moody was telling Harry as he shook his hand in a firm grip. "And don't forget, all of you – be careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."

"We know, Moody," Winona rolled her eyes, shaking his gnarled hand once before letting go and moving to squeeze Tonks affectionately.

"It's been great meeting all of you," Tonks told them, her eyes – purple today – glittering with warmth. "We'll see you soon, I expect."

A warning whistle sounded and the students still on the platform began hurrying onto the train. Mrs Weasley began hugging them all at random, but Winona crouched down beside Padfoot. He stared up at her with great, onyx eyes, and she felt her stomach twist at the thought of leaving him.

"Remember; I'll see you at Christmas," she told him quietly, scratching behind his floppy ears like she might with a real pet. "Be good. Stay safe."

Padfoot let out a small yip that she took to mean 'you too', and she pressed her forehead gently against his snout. A moment passed, then Mrs Weasley was pulling her impatiently to her feet.

"You've got to go, Winona," she was saying hastily, watching as Sirius gave Harry the closest thing to a hug he could manage in his current form.

Fred caught her hand, tugging her onto the train, and Winona let him pull her along. The train began to move, pulling away from the station with a shrill blow of its whistle. Winona pressed her arms across an open windowsill and then rested her chin on her arms, watching as Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Moody and Lupin all disappeared.

Only Sirius remained, following the train as far as he could, great pink tongue lolling out of his canine mouth. His tail wagged and he barked, only just loud enough to be heard over the whistle of the steam train.

Winona lifted a hand, waving goodbye, and when the train went around the bend and Sirius disappeared from sight, she felt heavier than she'd felt in a long time. Resting her chin on her arm again, she stared unseeingly out at the busy London streets.

"Bye, Dad," she whispered to herself, a sort of test. She'd said it and the world didn't come crashing down around her. But she couldn't say the word to Sirius yet – she wasn't ready. But maybe she could begin to say it to herself, when she knew he couldn't hear. When it didn't carry any expectation or promise.

A hand pressed to her spine and Winona turned away from the blur of grey that was London to look at the twins. "Ready to find the others?" Fred asked her gently.

"Yeah," she said, waving to Harry and the others as she took her boyfriend's hand and let him pull her down the empty corridor after his twin, looking for their friends.

They found Lee and the girls in a compartment towards the back of the train, and as they slipped into the compartment a small round of cheers broke out. The familiar warmth of the greeting made Winona's heart feel full, and she knew that all the drama of the year before was over and done with. Trust was restored, as was their friendship. It felt like a clean slate, and Winona couldn't have put her relief into words if she'd had a hundred years to try.

After dolling out the usual hugs, Winona took a seat near the door beside Fred while George dropped into the spot opposite them.

"Saw Ron in the corridor," said Lee, pulling out two sugar quills and handing one to Winona like it were instinct. She took it with a grateful grin. "Did my eyes deceive me, or was that a Prefect's badge I spotted?"

Fred and George let out matching groans. "Don't remind us," George muttered, taking a chocolate frog from the small pile on the seat and wrenching it open. "Mum's been absolutely insufferable since the moment he got the badge. You'd think he saved wizarding kind or something, with how much she was going on about it."

"I thought for sure Harry was going to get it," Angelina said, a pensive look on her face.

"So did we," said Fred. "So did everyone. I reckon Dumbledore just wanted to go for shock value."

Winona rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Is Harry disappointed he didn't get it?" Alicia asked her quietly.

"A little at first," she shrugged, "but we spoke about it, and he realised the last thing he needs is any extra responsibility."

"It's still so weird to think you and Harry are cousins," Katie said, looking just as surprised as the day they'd found out. As if the shock of it had yet to wear off. "It must be nice for you, though," she added with a small, understanding smile. "Finding out you have family."

Winona smiled back. "Yeah, it's pretty great."

"The Prophet's sure being hard on him, though," said Lee. Silence reigned, but it wasn't awkward so much as it was tense. The memory of what happened the term before trickled over them like a stench, and the reality of this new world settled in their souls.

"Is he really back?" Alicia whispered. "You-Know-Who, I mean?"

Winona opened her mouth to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. Coughing once, she nodded and tried again. "Yeah," she said, but the word felt lame on her tongue. "He's back."

Another beat of silence. "Should we be afraid?" Katie asked, quiet and curious.

She took a moment to consider the question. "We should be prepared," she answered her mildly. "But anyway, we've got a whole year left at school – and I doubt You-Know-Who's going to appear in the Charms classroom and curse us all to death. We're safe at Hogwarts, he can't touch us there."

But even as she said it her vision flickered. Lee was saying something – a joke, judging by the tone he used and the laughter that followed – but Winona stopped listening. Rooting around in her bag, she quickly yanked out her sketchbook and a random pencil just before she surrendered to the vision.

She could hear a voice, high-pitched and saccharine enough to hurt her teeth even though the words themselves were lost to her. Pink was everywhere, she felt like she was choking on it – but how could she choke on a colour? And she felt a searing pain on the back of her left hand, like someone was carving into her skin with a knife.

She came out of it, unsure how much time had passed. Her friends were talking idly, but she could tell they were distracted by her vision, their attention snapping back to her the moment she rejoined them in the present.

"What was it?" Katie leaned forwards, interest burning in her eyes. "What'd you see?"

The weight of Fred's gentle hand on the nape of her neck anchored her to the moment, and Winona peered down at the prediction she'd blindly sketched – done completely in bright pink pencil. A short woman with a face like a toad, she stood at the top of the main staircase, a haughty look about her that Winona immediately loathed.

"What is it?" George asked, leaning forwards too, equally curious.

"I think it's…our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Winona murmured. The words tasted bad on her tongue, and Winona got the feeling that whoever this woman was, and whatever she was going to bring to the castle this year – Winona really wasn't going to like it.


The feast came and went with little fanfare. Professor Umbridge was introduced as their new Defence Against the Darks Arts teacher and the toad-like woman gave what had to be the most boring, lame, nonsense speech Winona had ever heard. Winona's friends looked at her in excitement, the reality of her precognitive abilities still shiny and new to them all.

Finally Umbridge stopped talking and Dumbledore delivered his start-of-term notices before dismissing them for the night. Relieved to be free, Winona caught Fred's hand and began to stand up, but Fred pulled her to her feet in an instant, tugging her impatiently ahead of the rest of the school.

"What's the hurry?" she asked over the hum of eager chatter.

"We wanna put up a bulletin asking for testers for our new products," said George, who kept pace with them, just as eager as his brother.

"That sounds…ethical," Winona said slyly, a smirk on her lips.

"We're paying them for it," said Fred, as though that made it any better. Winona supposed it sort of did, but not by much. She shook her head with a smile, letting them drag her back up to the common room. She dropped into the empty couch by the fire, watching as the twins hurried over to the notice board on the far wall and pinned up their notice before the rest of Gryffindor House could make their way up to the tower.

People began to flow in through the portrait hole and Winona pulled out her sketchbook, sitting back and starting a rough sketch of the common room as it was now. The realisation that this was her last year in the castle was a difficult one to stomach, so Winona had decided to sketch everything she saw, all the good and all the bad, to immortalise it on paper.

She caught sight of her cousin from the corner of her eye, and lifted a hand to wave goodnight to him, ignoring the way half the room stared, watching the interaction like it were an episode of one of their favourite soaps.

Even though an entire summer had passed since that damned article, the novelty of Harry and Winona's relation had yet to wear off. People still gaped at them, staring shrewdly, like they were trying to find the resemblance in their faces. People also sucked; but what was new?

The sofa cushions dipped and Winona looked up to find George reclined in the spot beside her, hands folded behind his head, head tipped back and his eyes shut peacefully. Glancing back to the notice board, she saw Fred speaking animatedly with a pair of wary first years.

"Got takers already?" she asked George lightly, flipping to a new page in her book and beginning to sketch his profile. He and Fred were identical – enough so that almost everyone who knew them got them mixed up, from their troupe of friends to even their own mother – but Winona had always been able to tell them apart.

Maybe it was because she was a Seer – the twins certainly seemed to think so – but Winona had always believed it was because she knew them, in a way that went beyond the physical. She looked at them and saw the heart of them.

George, cheesy and smug and a tiny bit subdued, at least in comparison to his twin; Fred, brash and confident and hilarious, always the first to try something dangerous or new. But they were sweet, too, and protective, and Winona knew they'd go toe-to-toe with a werewolf if it meant keeping the people they loved safe.

"I reckon the first-years are going to be our main source," George told her, still reclined back against the sofa, eyes shut as he absorbed the warmth of the fire. Winona sketched his long, thin nose, then began to work on his head of spiky hair. "Our reputation may be grand, but I doubt it reaches beyond these walls. The firsties aren't going to know any better. Besides, anyone will do anything for the right price."

"The prefects aren't going to like it."

Without opening his eyes, George flapped his hand as though batting away the words. "We've got it under control," he said, sounding so sure of himself that Winona believed him.

She kept drawing him, sketching out the jut of his chin and the slant of his mouth, then began adding the constellation of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

"Things are certainly going smoother than I thought they would," said George suddenly. She glanced up from her work to find he still had his eyes shut, reclined lazily in his spot.

"How d'you mean?"

"Well, things were so tense last term – between you and the girls and everything," he said with a shrug. "But now things seem to have completely gone back to normal. I think Ange has even completely forgiven you for stealing her boyfriend."

Winona gasped, turning to slap George upside the head. He let out a loud enough cry that a nearby group of fourth years glanced over in alarm. Winona ignored them, glaring at George venomously. "I didn't steal anything," she hissed.

George laughed, opening his eyes long enough to wink at her. "Of course not," he said grandly. "Can't steal what already belongs to you."

"What belongs to me?"

George's eyes glittered with amusement. "Fred's heart."

Rolling her eyes, Winona slapped him on the shoulder once more before settling back into the couch and going back to lazily sketching his profile. "You're so cheesy," she muttered, horrified to find her cheeks warm.

George just chuckled. Winona pointedly ignored him, focusing all her attention on her drawing.

The night drifted on, peaceful and quiet, and were Winona not a Seer, she might have said it was a good omen; a reflection of the nature of the year to come. But she was a Seer, and so she was the only one in the whole tower who knew the truth.

That this was just the calm before the storm.


A/N: Surprise! Another unexpected update!

Over the past fews days I've just had an influx of beautiful, kind, wonderful messages – both here and on instagram – from all of you guys, and so I've been in a sort of writing-marathon because I've been so inspired by all your kind words and messages. I'm enough chapters ahead that I thought: why wait to update if it's ready now? So instead of making you wait, here it is! I hope you enjoyed.

Review of the week goes to FriendlyNeighborhoodBatman, who did what is maybe the coolest thing I've ever seen and made a whole thread of memes about this fic on Twitter. I can't thank her enough for the time and energy she put into them – all of which had me literally quaking with laughter. Definitely worth checking out if you're a fan of this story/memes in general. You can find her username in her recent review of the story.

Anyway, thank you guys so much for your response over the last week or so. You bring happiness to my life in ways you'll never know, and if I can repay that by entertaining you, by transporting you to another world – to Winona's world – then I'm humbled that you give me the chance to do just that. And at the rate I've been writing, I'll see you guys soon(ish) with another new chapter!