For the next few weeks, the DA meetings were perhaps the best thing about life for every person involved.

Umbridge was wreaking havoc in the rest of the school, what with her mind-meltingly boring classes and the way she'd intimidated most of their other teachers into following her shitty example. In light of their new situation, Winona did something she'd never before thought she'd be able to do: she kept her head down, and she stayed out of trouble.

When the twins begged her to come with them to set Filch's office door on fire, she glanced down at the scarred mess of her hand and sighed, shaking her head. When Katie got impassioned about Umbridge's new dress code rules, Winona said no to joining her peaceful protest in the Great Hall.

She wanted to rebel, she really did – or, at least, she wanted to want to.

But when it came down to it, Winona was tired. She already had so much on her plate that getting herself pinged on Umbridge's radar right now felt about as appealing as sticking her hand in a blender. The last thing she needed was more detention from the Wicked Witch herself.

And besides, she was rebelling in the best way possible – going to their DA meetings and doing the exact thing Umbridge and the Minister were so pathetically terrified of. They were, in many ways, an army, and while taking on the Ministry of Magic was hardly their goal, it was nice to know they would be seen as a threat, should they decide they wanted to be.

But for now, Winona was content with sticking to her studies, spending time with Fred and her friends, and working hard on her artwork. Once the summer came round, school would be over and Winona would need to get her name out there in the world somehow. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to do it, but she believed she could, and she figured that was probably the most important part.

The rest would follow.

Hermione handed out their fake Galleons at their fourth DA meeting, and Winona took it with raised brows. Fred plucked his from Hermione's hand, holding it up to the light critically before slipping it between his teeth and gnawing at it. Winona slapped at his hands and he pouted.

"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermione said as she held the Galleon up for everyone to see. "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because I've put a Protean Charm on them, they'll all change to mimic his."

Her words were met with only silence, and Winona watched Hermione bristle uncertainly.

"Well – I thought it was a good idea," she murmured, defensive. "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But … well, if you don't want to use them-"

"You can do a Protean Charm?" one of the Ravenclaws spoke up, sounding vaguely perplexed.

Hermione blinked once, slowly. "Yes."

"But that's … that's NEWT standard, that is."

Hermione grew flustered. "Oh … well … yes, I suppose it is," she said, trying her best to look modest, but Winona knew she was lapping it up. Hermione's breed was a sort that lived for praise. It wasn't a bad thing – everyone had to live for something, just to get them through the day.

"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" the same boy demanded, staring at Hermione with something close to wonder. "With brains like yours?"

"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," Hermione said brightly, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So, does that mean we're using the Galleons?"

Everyone gladly took a Galleon and Winona shot Hermione a thumbs-up from across the room. Cheeks pink, she smiled sweetly at everyone murmuring their approval, and Winona slipped her own Galleon into her pocket. It really was an exceptional piece of magic.

Winona's pledge to keep under the radar for the year was helped, quite a lot, by the fact that almost all of her friends were busy nearly constantly with practise for the upcoming Quidditch match against Slytherin.

In the weeks leading up to the match, tensions were high, and Winona barely even saw Fred, let alone any of their friends. Snape was being a twat – although, that was hardly unusual – and making it near impossible for the Gryffindor team to get time on the Pitch. Angelina had to take drastic measures, and they would practise on the patch of grass between the castle and Hagrid's empty hut. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best they could do.

Despite being set in her plan – and having it go rather smoothly as of yet – Winona began to miss her friends. She knew seventh year was going to be tough, but with all her friends except Lee, Ginny and Hermione on the team, it was growing lonely.

As October came to an end and the Quidditch match loomed on the horizon, Winona was getting restless. She wanted to do something fun, she wanted to do something reckless – was it too much to ask for fireworks to go off in the common room? Or for the house elves to stage a coup? Or for Hagrid to return with another blasted dragon egg in tow?

She was in the mostly-abandoned common room late one Friday, the night before the first game of the year, when the portrait hole swung open and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team stumbled their way through the entrance. Winona looked up from her sketchbook – she'd had classes with her friends earlier in the day, but they'd mostly been dead on their feet or too busy taking notes to hang out with her.

Ron was the first to spot her, and Winona noticed that his cheeks were flushed a bright red, and that he looked perhaps the most cheerful she'd ever seen him. He lifted his hand in a wave, catching Fred and George's attention.

"There's my lady!" crowed Fred, all but tripping his way over to her. It was as if he were drunk, but Winona could tell it was just exhaustion. Even on top of Quidditch and the DA, they had more homework piled onto them than ever before. They were all struggling to keep up with the heavy load.

Winona stood to her feet just in time for Fred to scoop her up in an excited hug. She laughed into his neck, noting that he smelt like sweat and grass, and not entirely hating it. "How'd practise go?" she asked George over Fred's shoulder.

To her surprise, George clapped a hand down hard on Ron's shoulder, a bright grin on his face. "You shoulda been there, Win," he said loudly, so the whole common room could hear. "Ron made this fantastic save."

"It was so good, he might yet make us proud," said Fred with a roguish glint to his blue eyes. "We're even seriously considering admitting that we're actually related to him," he added in a stage-whisper, winking at Harry when he laughed.

"Admitting it?" her cousin asked.

"Well, we've been denying it for years now," said Fred with a frivolous flap of his hand in Ron's direction. "I mean, look at him. Who'd wanna own up to being related to that?"

"You're such a prick," muttered Ron, scowling deeply. Winona laughed and gently flicked Fred's ear. It was a subtle reprimand; because as funny as the comment was, poor Ron was going through enough – what with the upcoming Quidditch match, his first as part of the team – without his older brothers denying they shared blood. Fred grinned widely, like the flick had been a reward. Winona rolled her eyes.

The next day dawned, and as Winona wandered down to breakfast with Alicia and Angelina, it was to a chorus of cheers from their House table. It was easy to forget, over the year previous without Quidditch to keep them all busy, just how much the school enjoyed the Quidditch matches.

Fred and George were sat near a large number of first and second years, talking loudly and gesturing wildly, probably telling some outlandish tale that may or may not have been rooted in actual fact. Winona took a seat beside them, kissing Fred on the cheek as she did. He never stopped his storytelling, but he did smile around his words, some of the first-years' cheeks turning pink.

Winona was listening to Angelina, Alicia, and Katie – now that she'd joined them – as they spoke about the conditions of the day. Angelina was a bundle of nerves. Being captain, she felt like this whole match were resting squarely on her shoulders.

"We should head down to the pitch," Angelina declared once Katie had put down the remaining core of her apple and George's spoon hit the bottom of his empty oatmeal bowl.

"But we still have ages," complained Fred. Angelina needed only to glare at him until he gulped dramatically and climbed to his feet. Winona smirked, taking the hand he held out to help pull her upright. She might not have been on the team in any official capacity, but the others always liked to joke she was an honorary member all the same.

The air was frigid and icy as could be, and Winona pulled her jumper tighter around herself, leaning into Fred's arms as he wound them around her middle and rubbed up and down to try to keep her warm.

"That's just the price of being a Quidditch star's girlfriend," he sniffed when she complained about the chill. "You've gotta put up with the tough conditions."

"I'll give you a tough condition," she muttered under her breath, laughing when he pinched her side in retaliation.

She wished all her friends luck, then kissed George chastely on the cheek in their traditional routine, then snogged Fred up against the wall until Angelina shouted at Fred to stop exploring Winona's tonsils and get his arse inside the changing rooms.

By the time she made it up to the stands, people had already begun to arrive, chanting and singing for their team, or just dicking around under the stands while they waited for the match to start. Winona took a seat on the far left of the Gryffindor stands, right near the stairs so she could make a break for the pitch if she needed to. Lee joined her as the stands began to really fill up, and he seemed excited.

"I've missed commentating," he told her eagerly. "I feel like it might really be my calling."

"Lee, you're more interested in talking about the players' love lives than their Quidditch skills."

"That happened once," Lee complained.

"And Alicia decked you for it," she reminded him.

He scowled. "And McGonagall gave me a detention."

"It's a miracle she lets you do it at all, by this point," Winona mused. "She must think you have at least some talent in the area."

"Nah, I just think nobody else particularly wants the job."

The stands were almost at capacity, so Lee left her with a quick hug. Hermione took a seat next to Winona minutes before the game began, Ginny on her other side, frowning deeply.

"Who pissed in your cereal, Ginger?" Winona asked cheerfully.

Ginny's scowl deepened. "You haven't seen the Slytherins' badges?" Hermione asked, anxiously wringing her hands together.

Winona blinked. "What badges?"

The two exchanged a dark look. "Listen closely."

Winona fell quiet. The Slytherins across the pitch were singing something – she'd written it off as any old school-spirit chant, but now that she listened to the lyrics, she realised it was nothing so mundane.

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing,

Weasley is our King!"

"Oh shit," Winona murmured. The twins weren't going to take this lying down, and who knew what effect it was going to have on Ron, who was nervous enough about this first match without the Slytherins taking it upon themselves to prove the reputation of their House wasn't all talk.

The match began, and it was just as brutal as ever, though perhaps made more so by the Slytherins' cruel chant.

"This is awful," bemoaned Hermione as Ron let through his second goal of the match. "How is this at all fair? Shouldn't the teachers be putting a stop to it?"

"There's nothing in the rules that say the crowd can't chant, even if it is something cruel," Winona told her grimly. "Don't worry – they'll get what's coming to them. The twins and I will make sure of it."

"Can I help?" Ginny asked hopefully, glaring across the pitch at Parkinson, who was standing with her back to the game and conducting her fellow Slytherins in their cruel song like they were at a fucking orchestra instead of a Quidditch match. "I want to kill her," Ginny confessed, bright red with anger.

"She's only capitalising on the attention," Winona told her. "This whole thing reeks of Malfoy. Only he could be so petty."

Eventually Harry saw the Snitch – and the three of them watched, screaming loud as they could in support, as he dove towards it, Malfoy close on his heels. Winona gathered Hermione and Ginny in a group hug when Harry caught it, winning Gryffindor the match – but the celebration was short-lived.

Every hair on Winona's body stood on end, and from the corner of her eye she saw a brown Bludger whizz straight towards her cousin. She turned in time to see it hit him square in the spine, and he toppled off his broom. By some small mercy he was only about five feet off the ground, so it wasn't a long fall – but it still had to hurt.

Winona let out a truly heinous string of curses that were swallowed up by the roars and jeers of the furious Gryffindors. But Winona didn't stick around to cry her disapproval, she all but leapt over Hermione and Ginny and Luna – although it was hard to get around the giant lion's face sat atop Luna's head – and catapulted her way down the rickety stairs leading to the grass of the pitch.

All the players were on the ground by the time she made it to them, and the prickling at her skin never went away. Something was about to go terribly, horribly wrong, but she didn't know what. She did know, however, that she had to keep Fred safe – something within nearly screeching it at her.

She made her way to him immediately, wading into the middle of what appeared to be a large fight. Winona hadn't heard what started it, but she could hazard a guess. Fred was being held back by Katie, Alicia and Angelina, and it was taking all of them just to keep him from joining in the fight.

She was about to go to him when she saw Harry barrel across the grass like the Snitch he'd just caught, all but tackling Malfoy to the ground – and instantly her priorities shifted. The girls could handle Fred – Harry needed her.

Her instincts were to help her cousin beat Malfoy into a pulp (because that genuinely sounded like a brilliant way to spend her Saturday morning – seeing as Malfoy was a prejudiced git and she had a plethora of unsolved rage issues), but she was all too aware of the eyes currently on their backs.

The threat of Umbridge hung over them like a stench, and Winona wasn't about to let Harry get into more trouble than absolutely necessary. He'd gotten himself into this – valid though his reasoning may have been – but she was sure as hell going to have to get him out.

Making a snap decision, Winona threw herself into the fray, wrapping her thin arms tightly around her cousin's waist and hauling him backwards off Malfoy, who was curled in a ball on the grass, blood gushing from his – hopefully broken – nose.

"You're okay. You're okay, Boy-Wonder," she said over and over into Harry's ear, as soothing as she knew how to be while he struggled and fought her hold, trying to throw himself back on Malfoy – undoubtedly hoping to go in for the kill. Not that she blamed him. "Breathe. Relax. Breathe, Harry."

Harry didn't stop until Madam Hooch appeared, brandishing her wand out in front of her, fire sparking in her yellow eyes. "What do you think you're doing?!" she screeched like a banshee. "I've never seen behaviour like it – back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now!"

Harry shoved Winona off, turning on his heel and stalking away without looking at anyone. It took her a moment to realise George had been involved in the fight, too. His eye looked a little swollen and he was panting from exertion, but he didn't look at her either, stalking back up towards the castle beside her cousin without so much as a word.

Helpless, Winona went directly to Fred, who was panting just the same, though more from fury than anything else.

"What in Merlin's name just happened?" she demanded as he shook off the three girls, the danger of him joining the fight now well and truly gone. Winona reached up to grab his jaw in her hands, angling his face down to her, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Fred, what the bloody hell is going on?" she demanded again, half pleading.

"Malfoy was way out of line," Fred spat, glowering hatefully at where the Slytherin Seeker was curled in a pathetic ball on the grass. Professor Snape was stood over him, looking loath to be there at all, yet still mildly pleased – probably because he knew how much trouble Harry was going to get into for this.

The prick.

"What did he say?" she asked Fred, voice hard and unforgiving as iron.

Fred's jaw clenched and unclenched, and the crowd around them began to disperse as Professor Flitwick waved them off, ordering them off the pitch to go about their day. Winona didn't move an inch, standing there in the middle of the pitch and gripping her boyfriend's face tight, waiting for him to speak.

"He was insulting our family, and the Burrow," Fred ground out, anger like fireworks in his eyes, but not the good kind. "That was bad enough, but once he brought Harry's mum into it, well, you saw how he-"

She nodded, pulling Fred into a firm embrace. Alicia, Katie and Angelina were hovering worriedly nearby, and she caught their stares over Fred's shoulder and mouthed, "Thank you," at them firmly, hoping they understood her gratitude.

Winona loved Harry, Fred and George all equally – albeit in very different ways – and she was grateful their friends had been able to stop at least one of the three from getting involved in the fight.

She supposed it was a little hypocritical of her, knowing how many fist fights she'd gotten into during her time in the castle. But the difference was she never had the Ministry's ugliest hag looking over her shoulder, all but salivating in the hope that she'd fuck up badly enough for her liking.

"What's going to happen to them?" Fred asked, and when he pulled back she saw some of the lava had cooled in his eyes. "I mean, old Minnie won't go too hard on them, will she?"

Winona felt her eyes unfocus, the world around her turning hazy and blurry. Decisions were swirling around her like spells in the air, potential futures spread out before her like lines on a map, each leading to a different destination.

The world flickered; a flash of deep green; a sickly giggle and an awful, familiar voice saying, "Educational Decree Number Twenty-five…"

"No…" Winona whispered without realising she was speaking at all. Her eyes refocused and she turned her attention to Fred, who was staring back in mounting horror. Her brow pulled together in angry dismay, and she'd never felt so hopeless. "I can't…I just saw…Fred, she's already made the decision," she said sadly. "She's made up her mind."

He looked almost too scared to ask, but he did anyway. "What decision? Whose mind?"

"Umbridge," she told him. "Fred, she's giving all three of you a lifetime ban from Quidditch."

Fred stared at her like he was waiting for her to break out into playful laughter. When she didn't, his eyes went stormy and dark. "You're not kidding," he rasped.

Her stare was apologetic. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" came Angelina's voice, and Winona saw she and the other girls approaching. They appeared to have been speaking with Madam Hooch, but the referee was now off helping Snape get Malfoy in good enough shape to be moved up to the Hospital Wing.

Winona sighed. "You really don't wanna know," she said evasively, because the last thing she wanted was to have to be the one to tell Angelina she was about to lose a third of her team.

Angelina's eyes were dark. "I really do."

Winona hesitated, wondering how she could word it so that Angelina wasn't going to completely lose the plot, but Fred spoke up before she had a chance to figure it out. "Umbridge's banning us from Quidditch."

Angelina's eyes went wide. "What? …For like a month or something?" Winona shook her head sadly, and horror appeared in Angelina's kind, almond eyes. "You joking," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Ange," Fred said, frustration and dismay twisting on his handsome face. "I just…"

Angelina only held up a hand, silencing him. "Not your fault," she mumbled, but Winona wasn't totally sure she believed herself. "That old hag is just…I can't…ugh!"

With that elegantly said, Angelina turned and stormed off towards the changing rooms, fingers threaded into her thick hair, tugging at it angrily. Katie and Alicia looked warily at Winona, who shrugged helplessly.

"We'd better go make sure she isn't using the blackboard to plan Umbridge's murder," said Katie without so much as a hint of humour. She hesitated, looking at Fred sadly. "Sorry, Fred. This is rubbish."

Fred snorted, but the sound was doused with rage. "You can say that again."

With a final, sympathetic look, the two girls disappeared off into the changing rooms after Angelina, and Winona took Fred's hand in her own. "Wanna go shower and change first, or would you rather head straight up to the dorm?"

He hesitated. "Which option means I don't have to let go of your hand?"

She pretended to think a moment. "The second one."

"Then let's do that one."

They began to walk up the path towards the castle, and though Fred's grip on her hand was nearly painful, she never once complained. She knew he was holding so tightly because he thought if he let go, he'd be too tempted to go finish what his brother and her cousin had started and beat Malfoy to a bloody pulp.

"You didn't See this happening?" Fred asked as they made their way up the main staircase towards Gryffindor Tower. "Nothing at all?"

"Not until Harry got hit by that Bludger," she said, then went rigid. "Merlin's balls – Harry got hit in the spine! Was he okay? Was he hurt? Did someone manage to punch Goyle in amongst all the chaos-?"

"Harry's okay, probably just a bit bruised," Fred assured her. "He was grinning and shaking hands before Malfoy opened his fat mouth, so I'd say he's fine. Either way, I'm sure McGonagall will make sure Pomfrey takes a look at him, just to be safe."

They were quiet a moment, and it took a great deal of restraint not to curse the people staring as they passed, whispering behind their hands. "I'm sorry about your lifetime ban," she told Fred, hoping to distract herself from the urge to get into an equal amount of trouble.

"Blimey," he murmured. "Lifetime."

"Well, she can't stop you from playing at your pitch back at the Burrow," she pointed out optimistically. "Can you imagine every time you picked up a Quaffle, she appeared a flash of light and did that stupid 'hem, hem'?"

But Fred didn't chuckle, he just gripped her hand and continued walking. Sensing he needed some time to sort it through, Winona fell silent, wrapping her other arm around his and laying her forehead against his shoulder as they walked, a silent but unwavering support.

Fred's dorm was empty when they made their way up there, so they took advantage of the privacy to share the shower. Winona undressed him quickly, then herself, and once the water was blissfully hot, they got under it and took turns washing each other.

To her surprise, it didn't turn sexual. Fred had had a tough morning – tougher than most – and he was knackered after the match, fight, and subsequent news. Winona went with the flow, helping him scrub off the grime of the morning before letting him wash her hair, breathing in the warm steam of the shower.

They had homework to do and orders to fill and owls to send for stock, but Winona ripped the pair of jeans from Fred's hands and handed him some worn old trackies instead.

"We're not working today," she said sternly, pulling on a pair of yoga pants before tugging on Fred's oldest Puddlemere United jumper and piling her damp hair atop the crown of her head.

"Win, we've got about a million things to get done-" he tried to argue.

"Nope," she insisted, flicking her wand at him. The trousers magically appeared on his body, his damp chest exposed, and she kissed him gently over his sternum before handing him an old teeshirt to pull on. "We've had the day from hell, and for the rest of today, we're going to do absolutely nothing."

Winona could tell he wanted to keep arguing, but maybe he knew her well enough to know not to bother, or maybe he simply just wanted to agree. Either way, he relented.

When George found them an hour later, they were playing Exploding Snap on Fred's bed, sharing a box of Every Flavour Beans between them and listening to the newest Weird Sisters song on Lee's wireless.

"You're not gonna believe what the old hag's done now," George thundered the moment he entered the room, fiery-eyed and ready for a fight.

"Did she give us a lifetime ban from Quidditch?" Fred asked without looking up from his cards.

George turned his narrowed eyes onto Winona. "Your Inner Eye can be bloody annoying at times, you know that?"

"Preaching to the choir, buddy," she replied, tossing back a handful of carefully-selected purple beans from the box between them. The overpowering taste was grape, with maybe just the slightest hint of eggplant.

"I mean – the audacity of her!" George shouted, beginning a furious pacing up and down the length of the dorm. "Lifetime ban – who in the name of Merlin's saggy left nut does she think she is?!"

They let him rant awhile, and when he stopped for breath, Winona asked, "How's Harry taking it?"

"You don't already know?" George asked sourly. The look she sent him was dry and George heaved a sigh that was as much an apology as anything else. "Poorly," he finally said. She nodded once, flinching out of the way of the cards just as they exploded with a loud crack and plume of smoke.

"I'd better go check on him," she said, mouth twisted into a frown. "Wanna sit in for me while I'm gone, Georgie?"

"Nah, we'll come down with you," said Fred instead, dropping his cards onto the pile and pulling some thick socks on over his bare feet. "I wanna see how Ange is taking the whole thing; and it'd be nice to know she hasn't pulled a Wood and tried to drown herself in the shower."

The rest of the Quidditch team – bar Ron, who was nowhere to be seen – were congregated around the heat of the hearth, all looking to fall somewhere along the scale between desolate and angry. Harry, however, just looked defeated, staring listlessly out the window at the falling snow.

He was startled from his stupor when Winona dropped into place on the armrest of his chair. His green eyes flicked to her but she didn't bother putting on a smile. He'd know it was fake, anyway.

"Sorry, Boy-Wonder," she told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

Across from them, the twins were commiserating with the girls over the unfair ruling of the school's new High Inquisitor. Hermione and Ginny sat on the floor near Harry, talking quietly, though they stopped and looked up at Winona when she arrived.

"Good news is this: something dreadful will happen to her by the end of the school year, and then we can all get on with our lives," she added with just a hint of cheer.

"You've Seen something bad happen to Umbridge?" Ginny asked, maybe just a little too eager in Winona's opinion. "Is it bad? Does it hurt? Ooh, is there permanent scarring?"

Hermione sent Ginny a bewildered look while Winona just rolled her eyes. "I've haven't Seen anything, I'm just talking about the curse on the DADA position."

Now it was Hermione rolling her eyes. "That curse isn't actually real, Winona. It's a ghost story."

"So are werewolves to the majority of the world, and yet I'm still sharing a house with one," Winona replied without missing a beat. She turned her attention to Harry, who had gone back to staring at the flames in the fireplace like they might hold the answer to all his problems. "Look, I've got a feeling this won't stick. Besides, it's like I told Fred, she can't just appear every time you get on a broom. You can still play the game when you're at the Burrow, or-"

"Yeah, that doesn't actually help me any, Winona," snapped Harry, so much frustration and rage in his voice that Winona fell utterly silent at the sound of it. She stared down at him in surprise, but he never lifted his eyes from the flames. "This could have been avoided if you'd just Seen it happening. You could have warned us."

Winona blinked a few times, thrown by the reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't know there was anything to See-"

"Then what exactly is the point of you?!"

By now the entire team had fallen silent, staring at the two of them in wary shock. Winona opened her mouth to respond, but she couldn't think of anything worthy to say, so she shut it again, staring at Harry unsurely. Harry said nothing either, and the silence stretched for so long that the room grew stifling and uncomfortable.

She tried again, "I know Quidditch is important to you, Harry-"

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know-"

"You never do!" he argued, frustration mounting.

"Harry," Fred stepped in, shifting towards her cousin, a frown on his face. "I don't think you're being fair – this isn't her fault-"

"No, it isn't," Harry agreed unpleasantly. "It never is."

Stung, Winona stood to her feet, crossing her arms over her chest like a barrier between Harry and her heart. "Well, if that's how you feel," she murmured, turning briskly on her heel.

"Win-" Fred tried to stop her, but she ignored him and stormed her way towards the girls' stairs – the one place none of the boys could possibly follow.

Winona wasn't expecting anyone to follow her up, but if she'd had to wager a guess, it wouldn't have been Hermione. The fifth year found Winona sat on the trunk at the end of her bed, untying the laces of her shoes and kicking them off with a tad more force than necessary.

Winona glanced up at Hermione but otherwise didn't react.

"Harry didn't mean to snap," Hermione said after taking a deep breath. "He's under a lot of pressure-"

"I don't need you to explain on his behalf, Hermione," Winona said, perhaps a little sharper than she intended to. But she couldn't help it, hurt was burning at her insides like she'd downed a vial of poison. While she was usually unflappable, she didn't know how to react to Harry's attitude. They'd never fought before – not once – and she didn't know how to deal with it. "He's my cousin – I think I understand well enough."

Hermione looked so sad, and Winona knew it was for Harry – for his suffering. A rush of gratitude filled her. Harry didn't know how lucky he was to have a friend as compassionate and caring as Hermione.

"He's going to feel really bad," Hermione continued anyway. "He's probably beating himself up right now, wishing he could apologise-"

"Then when I see him next, he can do so," Winona said calmly. Hermione's mouth twisted. She was a problem-solver. She saw a wound, her instinct was to patch it up at once. But Winona didn't need her triage, all she needed was her understanding. "I'm not mad at him, Hermione," she assured her. "I'll speak to him once he calms down, and everything will be fine."

Hermione abruptly collapsed onto Angelina's bed, the carefully-smoothed covers wrinkling under her weight. "He's struggling so much, and I don't know how to help him," Hermione cried, looking distraught. Winona's brain went blank.

Hermione wasn't crying, but her eyes were glassy and wet like she was about to be, and Winona had never dealt well with crying people. She stood from her trunk, socks sliding against the floorboards, and took a seat on Angelina's bed beside Hermione. Placing a hand gently on her back, she rubbed in what she hoped were soothing circles.

"What you're doing is enough, 'Mione," Winona assured her in the most gentle voice she knew how to make. "You are enough."

Hermione looked up from where she'd buried her face in her hands. "So are you, you know?"

Winona smiled. "I'm trying," she said, and left it at that. "How about you head downstairs? Tell the twins I'm fine if they ask, and that I'll see them later."

"You're not coming?"

"I'd rather keep to myself awhile," she admitted.

Hermione seemed reluctant to leave her alone, but Winona was insistent, and finally she managed to get her to leave. Winona spent a while toying with her watercolours, trying not to worry about Harry as she worked. The last thing she wanted was for anything to come between them, but some things, she was learning, were unavoidable.

It grew later and later, and eventually all the girls came up to bed. Angelina in particular was quieter than usual, frowning as she dressed for bed. Winona knew she was thinking hard about how to fill the three now open positions on the Quidditch team, and Winona didn't envy her the job.

Hope and Alicia stood by the end of Alicia's bed, talking shit about Umbridge without having to worry about anyone overhearing, and Winona snorted at their scathing, bitter comments.

Hope had just extinguished the last of the lamps when there came a knocking at the door to their dorm. The girls glanced at one another, and it was Alicia who stood to her feet to answer the door.

"Ginny," Alicia said, clearly surprised. "What's up?"

"Fred wants Winnie," said Ginny plainly.

Hope snorted from across the room. "He sure does," she said, dopey with exhaustion – it had been a long day for them all. Winona rolled her eyes but otherwise didn't engage. She pulled a pair of woollen socks onto her feet and shouldered her bag – just to be safe – before joining Ginny in the corridor.

"Everything okay?" she asked the youngest Weasley worriedly.

"He gave me a chocolate frog to come get you," she said with a shrug. "I know about as much as you do."

Smiling to herself, Winona left Ginny to go to bed, heading down the stairs to the common room.

Fred was stood at the base of the stairs, slouched against the wall, his lanky body folded wearily. Winona frowned at the sight of him, but before she could ask if he was okay, he caught sight of her and stood up straight, a smile blooming on his pale lips.

"There you are," he said, sounding relieved. Winona stepped into his side, winding an arm around his trim waist. He was warm and smelt amazing, and she felt no shyness about breathing him in. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you feel like getting out of this castle right now?"

She pulled back and tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "Probably an eleven," she admitted honestly, "but I can already tell this is going to end poorly."

He bristled. "None of my plans end poorly."

"I'd say at least seventy percent of them do."

"Hm, forty," he countered.

"Sixty."

"Fine, fifty-fifty, but that's my final offer."

Winona's only answer was a soft laugh and a quick kiss. "What's the plan?"

Fred gestured to a small pile of clothes on the table next to them, and Winona realised he was serious about leaving the castle. But she was never one to back down from a challenge, and escaping for a romantic night with Fred sounded a hell of a lot better than hiding up in her dorm, avoiding sleep and the nightmares it always brought.

She pulled on the thick coat he'd laid out for her, then glanced down at her sneakers with a frown. "It'll be fine," Fred assured her, and she knew he was probably right. "Ready?"

Taking his hand, she let him drag her across the common room. She was feet away from the portrait hole when she realised the room wasn't completely empty. A familiar head of flaming hair was sat beside a head of inky black hair at the couch by the fireplace.

George and Katie were talking in low undertones, angling their heads close towards one another. Something about the picture was so intimate, Winona felt like she was intruding just by looking and tugged at Fred's hand, forcing him to follow. They slipped from the common room as quickly and as quietly as they could, and once the portrait hole had shut after them, she turned to Fred with a grin.

"What's going on there?" she asked eagerly.

Fred held up his hands as if in surrender. "I know as much as you," he insisted, and her responding stare was skeptical. "Really. He hasn't told me much at all. For as close as we are, George can be awfully private when it comes to the things that really matter to him."

"Well, I think they'd be great together," Winona told him warmly. "I'd love it if George found a girl. Then maybe he wouldn't be stuck as a a third wheel all the time."

"If anyone else were the two wheels, I think he'd care," Fred confessed. "But it's us, so I know he doesn't really mind. He's just happy to be part of the tricycle."

Winona laughed, nudging his hip with hers. "You're such a dork."

"Only for you."

They snuck out of the castle, making their way down the salted path towards the lake, snow piled high on either side of them, like a road cut through a valley of white. The wind bit and whipped at their exposed skin, but Fred cast a Warming Charm over them when Winona's teeth began to chatter.

"Is there a point to this whole escapade, or are we just enjoying the winter scenery?" she asked as they reached the lake, which by this point in the year was entirely frozen over, the ice glowing like it were made of moonlight itself.

Fred grinned wickedly as he pulled free his wand, aiming it at her shoes and whispering a spell, his breath fogging in the air in front of him. Winona felt a sudden thump on the soles of her feet, bumping her up a few inches, and when she looked down she found her sneakers had been transfigured into a pair of worn skates.

"Ice skating?" she asked, surprised.

"You're right, today's been the day from hell," he told her, using the same spell on his own shoes, transfiguring them into ugly orange skates that made her smile. "I was going to bed, angry and frustrated, and I realised that despite how shit today's been, I didn't want to go to sleep in a bad mood. I never sleep well if I go to bed angry. I wasn't going to let Umbridge take a good night's rest from me, too."

"So, naturally – ice skating."

He tugged on her hand and together they stomped their way through the crunchy, freshly-fallen snow until they reached the ice. "I asked myself what would make me feel better," he said as they began to skate. He was smoother than she was, and she held tight to his hand, letting him keep her balanced on the ice. "Obviously, the answer was to spend time with you."

Warmth glowing in her heart like the embers of a youthful bonfire, Winona gripped tight to his hand and let him pull her in slow circles around the frozen lake. "Charmer," she muttered as though it wasn't one of the sweetest things he'd ever said. He grinned at her in the light of the moon, his hand tight and sure in hers.

They skated lazily for about an hour, getting off the ice when their warming charms wore off and their feet began to ache. Fred transfigured their skates back into shoes, but before they could make their way back up the path, Winona caught his hand and yanked him back towards a nearby tree.

He started to say her name, confused, but she cut him off with a kiss. Passionate and hot, Winona snogged him within an inch of his life against that icy tree. When she finally pulled away, her fingers were tangled in his flaming hair and his cold hands had sneaked under her jumper to press against the warm skin of her back. They were both breathing hard, their breath combining into a fog in the sliver of space between them.

"Wha – what was that for, exactly?" Fred asked, pleasantly dazed.

"I just love you," she said, meaning in down to her bones.

It came so easily, now, like she'd been saying it all her life. In reality, the only other person she'd ever said those words to was Harry, and she'd meant it then in a very different way. But she wasn't afraid to say them now. How could she be afraid of something that made her so incandescently happy?

"I love you, too," he said it like it were obvious, a fact of life that she and everyone else in the world should have already been well aware of.

She kissed him again, leaving them both breathless, but by then the cold had begun to get so bad that Winona was trembling where she stood.

"Come on," he said once they'd caught their breath. "We should get back up to the castle. Last thing we need is to be caught out here by Umbridge."

"Fred Weasley," she gasped playfully. "Just when did you become a responsible adult?"

He rolled his eyes, the blue of them bright in the moonlight. "Jury's still out."

She laughed, taking his hand and letting him guide the way back up to the castle. They walked in silence, soaking up each other's company, and by the time they reached the castle, Winona's thoughts had drifted to Harry. Fred picked up on her change of mood with all the ease of a hippogriff taking off into the clouds.

"Harry will be fine by morning," he assured her as they sneaked into the castle. The torches lit up in their presence, but it was late enough that not even Filch was patrolling the corridors, so there was nobody around to see. "He just needs to cool off."

"I know," she sighed, leaning into his side and slinging his arm around her shoulders, holding his hand where it dangled on her left side. "He's so angry at the moment. I know it isn't all him, but somehow that only makes it worse…" she confessed, voice trailing off into sad nothing.

Fred frowned. "What do you mean, it isn't all him?"

Winona realised she'd already said too much and fell silent, pressing her lips together so tightly it was like she was trying to will the words back into her mouth. Fred read her panicked silence like he could read everything else about her, like her thoughts were tattooed upon her skin.

"It's an Order thing you can't tell me, right?" he asked knowingly.

"Sorry," she whispered.

He squeezed the hand she held. "Don't apologise," he said, both encouraging and chiding in the same instant. "Although, I have to wonder…"

"Hm?" she asked, squeezing his hand back, an anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach over the worry that he would ask her something she couldn't tell him.

"Why make the Vow at all? I mean, I'd have thought you'd want to be able to be honest with Harry, no matter what."

It wasn't an easy question to answer, but she could answer it.

"I suppose, in the moment, it seemed more important to know everything than to tell him everything," she confessed. "If I could go back and change my mind…maybe I would. I don't know. But I made a decision, and now I have to live with it. There's no going back on that."

Fred was silent a minute, pondering her words. "Well, at least, until Dumbledore croaks," he finally said, so simple and matter-of-fact that Winona stopped walking.

She looked up at him, eyebrows in her hairline. "What?"

"I mean, if he dies, you wouldn't have to keep your vow to a dead man, would you?" he said like it were a known fact. Sometimes he forgot that she grew up Muggle, and that knowing all these things about Wizarding culture wasn't ingrained in her as it was in him.

"When Dumbledore dies, my gag order gets lifted?"

They started walking again. "Well, yeah. And I mean, not that I want the old coot to die, but it'd be handy to know when it was going to happen, wouldn't it?"

Winona said nothing, staring straight ahead, her mind racing a mile a minute. She didn't know when, exactly, Dumbledore would die; only that it was on the horizon, like a storm brewing off in the mountains, visible but not yet real. She did know how, though.

Someday soon – sooner than anyone would like – Dumbledore was going to fall off the Astronomy Tower to his death. Or, at least, she'd gleaned as much from the vague sketch she'd drawn when she was eleven.

She knew it would happen when he was wearing blue and white robes, and his great beard would be tied with a single band, and his left hand would be so blackened and burnt that it barely looked alive – done by something she couldn't yet See. She knew a lot of things about his death. Too many things. But not the when, or the why.

For once, Fred didn't seem to sense what she wasn't saying, but that could have been because the hour was getting later and later, and the length of their mostly-terrible day was beginning to get to creep over them, leaving them tired and aching.

Climbing through the portrait hole, Winona thanked Merlin that they hadn't gotten caught. She'd been so caught up in the spontaneity of the night, she hadn't stopped to worry about it at the time. Looking back, however, she realised that if Umbridge had discovered them frolicking out on the frozen lake at this time of night, she'd have even more words carved into the flesh of her innocent hand.

Winona and the twins split the next day up into chunks. Some of it was spent working reluctantly on homework and eagerly on filling out WWW orders, and some was spent out in the snow. In the morning, after breakfast, they went out into the courtyard to let off some steam. While Fred and Winona stayed close to the others, charming snowballs to fly up and smack against the windows of Gryffindor Tower, George and Katie peeled off from the rest and made their way to the edge of the courtyard, talking in low, private tones with secret smiles on their faces.

"What's with them?" Hope asked, having always been just a tiny bit oblivious when it came to matters of the heart.

"They're in love," sang Alicia, a giddy grin on her face as they watched the two of them lean towards each other like they were hanging on every word that came out of the other's mouth.

"What, George and Katie?" Hope blinked, taken aback. "Since when?"

Alicia and Angelina began to eagerly explain the history between the two – dating back to the Yule Ball the year before – but Winona knew that if George knew they were gossiping about his love life, he'd be absolutely mortified, so she threw a snow ball at the back of Angelina's head and lured them all into a snowball fight. Fred sent her a warm, knowing smile that made her skin buzz with awareness.

That night in the hours before dinner, the twins, Winona and Lee all bunkered down in the common room, reluctantly working on the homework due in classes the next day. The twins were hardly putting in any effort anymore – they didn't care about their grades. They were more concerned with getting the shop up and running. These days they were doing just the bare minimum to get by, but Winona couldn't blame them.

It wasn't like she was a particularly high achiever, either. She didn't need straight O's in her NEWTs to be an artist, so what was the point in trying?

She was lazily doodling flowers into the margin of her half-written Charms essay, sucking on a watermelon Sugar Quill, when a shadow fell over their table and the twins' lighthearted argument about who got the last Cauldron Cake came to a halt.

A pang went through Winona, and she knew before looking up who she would find standing over them. Holding her breath, she glanced warily up at her cousin, half worried he'd only come over to shout at her again.

They hadn't spoken since the day before. She'd been avoiding him, giving him time to calm down. Now he stood over them, arms crossed over his chest and a contrite look on his face.

"Walk down to dinner with me?" he asked simply.

Without hesitation, Winona shoved her things into her bag and climbed to her feet with a squeeze of Fred's knee. "I'll see you guys down there?" she asked the table as a whole.

Lee waved her away. "All right, but don't come crying to me when you get a Poor on this essay," he said playfully, tapping his quill against his own homework.

"Please," she scoffed. "It's worth at least an Acceptable."

She and Harry made their way out of the common room. Harry was silent as they walked at a leisurely pace down the corridor, taking their time to get down to the Great Hall. Winona gripped the strap of her bag and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," her cousin finally said, speaking through a sigh.

"It's okay," she told him. "Really, I've survived worse than a few harsh comments."

Harry was already shaking his head. "You shouldn't have to – not from me. I know none of this is your fault. I know you do everything you can to help me. I'm just…"

She said nothing, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"I'm just so angry, Win. All the time. I just, I feel like screaming." Winona smiled, and when he noticed it made him frown. "What?"

She wound an arm through his and tugged him off course. Instead of heading down the stairs that would take them to the Great Hall, she pulled him to the left and up a narrow staircase that led up into the higher floors of the castle.

"Where're we going?" he asked, confused. "Dinner's starting soon-"

"Trust me, Cuz," she said with a grin, and he did, letting her drag him up another set of stairs, then another, until it became clear where they were going.

"The astronomy tower?" he asked as they climbed the spiral staircase up the castle's largest spire.

It was snowing outside, and when they stepped onto the main floor of the tower the whistle of the powerful wind hit them, sharp and shrill in their ears. It wasn't just snowing – it was a snow-storm. The wind was so loud, it was hard to even hear themselves think. Which made it absolutely perfect.

"What are we doing, Winnie?" Harry asked, teeth already beginning to chatter. The gaping windows students used to observe the night sky did nothing to keep the cold out, and soon the whirling snowflakes had them both wet and frozen to the bone, but Winona was determined.

"I know you're having a rough time!" she told him, voice raised over the howling of the snowstorm. "I know you're angry, and confused, and frustrated, and even a little bit lonely – even though you're not alone, by the way! You never were!"

"Yeah, so what?"

"So – scream!"

Harry stared at her like she'd just suggested they leap off the tower and take their chances with the ground below. "What?"

"Scream, Harry."

Her cousin did nothing, still confused, so she let go of his arm and padded her way through the snow coating the floor of the astronomy tower to grip the metal barrier – the only thing between herself and the hard, unforgiving ground. Then she leaned out into the terrible storm, opened her mouth, and just let loose, screaming out into the snow like it might hear and answer back.

When she was done, her throat was aching and her hands felt like they were frozen stiff, but she also felt unexpectedly free. She turned to Harry with a grin. He was still staring at her like she was short a few marbles.

"Come on, Harry. While we're young!" she called to him cheerfully.

He didn't move, and so with a heaving sigh she marched back to him, gripped his arm, and forcefully tugged him across the floor to the barrier.

"Now just scream," she told him. "Scream like you've been wanting to. Scream at the universe like shouting at it might make it any better."

He glanced warily behind him, like he expected somebody to appear and shout at them for being there. "What if someone hears?"

She rolled her eyes. "Everybody's down at dinner. And nobody will hear over this storm, anyway."

He still looked hesitant, so Winona leaned forwards and again bellowed into the abyss. For a long moment, Harry did nothing but watch, until finally he seemed to see what she was trying to tell him – that this would help.

And so, with a great, deep breath, he leant out into the howling wind and let out the loudest, most frustrated scream Winona had ever heard. She laughed, shielding her eyes against the snow as she watched him tip his head back and scrunch his eyes shut tight, screaming angrily out at the world.

It wasn't a perfect solution. It wasn't even a particularly long-term one. But it was more than he'd had five minutes ago, and it was the best way she knew how to let him know there was nothing to forgive. Because this anger – this hatred – it wasn't his fault. And some horrible part of her was already counting down the days until Dumbledore fell from this very tower and died – so she could tell Harry that herself.


November melted into December, and the Christmas holidays was soon upon them. The twins were heading back to the Burrow, and while Winona had gotten an invite to join them, all of them knew it wasn't something she could accept. She expected Mrs Weasley didn't want her to feel left out, so she'd invited her despite knowing Winona wouldn't be safe at the Burrow. The only place she could safely stay over the holidays was Grimmauld Place.

Besides, she told Fred and George one night as they all sat by the warmth of the hearth in the common room, it would be the first Christmas she'd ever get to spend with her father. And seeing as Sirius was stuck in the draughty old house over the holidays anyway, she couldn't imagine not going to keep him company.

"But that means I won't get to give you your Christmas present," Fred pouted.

"Does it involve some form of nudity?" George asked, sounding terribly exhausted by the whole thing.

Fred scowled at his twin. "Well, you don't have to ruin the whole surprise."

Winona laughed, kissed Fred on the cheek, and they went back to filling out stock requests and cataloguing order forms.

Their last DA meeting of the year came on a Saturday, and Winona wandered in just before it began, Lee and the twins in tow.

"Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper," Fred was muttering bitterly under his breath. Angelina had just held tryouts for their and Harry's replacements on the House team that morning. "They're not even any good. Sloper barely knows a Bludger from a Quaffle."

"Oh, come on, they did all right," Winona chided him. "And I mean, at least Ginny got the Seeker position. She's wicked good. I reckon she'll make a great Quidditch player in a few years, once the Holyhead Harpies pick her up."

George and Fred turned to stare at her. "What?"

"Hm?" she hummed distractedly, paying no attention as she stared at the new Christmas decorations hanging about the Room of Requirement. She couldn't imagine Harry had taken the time to decorate so thoroughly, and had to wonder who had.

Her cousin called them all to order.

He'd stopped looking awkward about leading their meetings, and instead began to look rather like he belonged there, in front of his peers, leading and teaching and guiding them. Winona couldn't have possibly been any more proud.

"I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break-"

"We're not doing anything new?" muttered Smith, in an undertone that carried throughout the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," Fred sniped back. Winona laughed openly, grinning wolfishly at Smith when he looked their way.

"-we can practise in pairs," Harry continued, seeming cheered by the response. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

Winona stepped closer to Fred, but to her surprise, George slung an arm over her shoulder, pulling her away from his twin, who pouted dramatically.

"You get to have her all the time," George whined. "It's my turn with the artist."

"We agreed your days were Tuesdays and Thursdays," Fred replied quickly.

"Consider it my Christmas present," said George, then without waiting for his twin's okay, used the arm around Winona's shoulders to drag her away to the other side of the room. Winona tossed a lazy smile back at Fred, who rolled his eyes and paired up with Katie instead.

"What's up with you?" Winona asked George as they settled into place across the room. "Ooh – is there some juicy gossip you wanna spread? Did Jolene Abernathy really shag Pete Hardy in the girls' loo? She looks like she's put on a few pounds since that went round – reckon she might be pregnant?"

But apparently, for once in his life, George wasn't in the mood to gossip. "I need your advice."

Winona blinked at his utterly serious face, watching as he twirled his wand nervously around his fingers. "My advice?" she repeated, as if that might help make sense of it. "What kind of advice?"

"Er…dating advice."

That was a surprise, and she glanced across the room to Katie, who was laughing uproariously at something Fred had said while also trying to apologise to their neighbours for distracting them.

"Trouble in paradise?" she asked her best friend gently.

"Well, um, that's just it – there is no paradise," he told her under his breath, kicking at a loose floorboard, sheepish.

She made a face he didn't see. "Sorry, Georgie, I don't speak vague. What's wrong?"

"Well, Katie and I…" he trailed off, struggling to word it. "We're not quite official yet."

Winona blinked. "Seriously? George, I caught the two of you snogging in a broom cupboard not two days ago. I think it's fair to say you're in."

"No, I mean – ugh," he muttered. Clearly, this was harder than she'd thought it was going to be for him. She stayed silent, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. He'd always been the shy one out of him and Fred – which wasn't saying much, because George was shy like a banshee was quiet (which is to say, not at all) – but even for him, this was unusual. "Okay," he said, taking a breath and steeling himself. "I really like her, but I'm afraid that making things official might ruin our friendship forever."

Oh, now she understood. But before she could speak, George pressed on.

"I've spoken to Fred about it, but he's biased, you see. He's always loved you – always – so for him, it was an easy choice to get together; to ruin the friendship forever. But I don't know if I'm ready to take the same risk."

Winona thought for a moment on how to respond. "You're wrong about one thing," she finally said, knowing in her heart it was the right thing to say. "Fred and I never ruined our friendship. He's still my friend. My best friend – yes, George, other than you – and that's sort of the whole point of a relationship. It's just friendship on fire. If you think getting together will damage the friendship in some way, maybe that should tell you something."

George hesitated now, looking over at Fred and Katie where the two were now bickering easily about something. Winona watched George's face, tracking the expression he wore as he watched Katie smile, and she knew he had it bad.

"Don't be afraid, George," she told him, gripping his shoulder and holding tight. "Be brave. She likes you too."

George smiled, although he didn't look entirely convinced. Winona wished she knew the perfect thing to say, but sometimes not even magic could give them the answers they wanted.

"I don't see any practising happening here," came Harry's voice, and Winona found him stood beside them, an eyebrow cocked in a spot-on impression of McGonagall.

"Sorry, Professor Potter," she replied sarcastically, a grin twisting her lips. "Won't happen again."

Harry rolled his eyes and moved over to where Ginny and Luna were practising, and Winona turned back to George, smiling ruefully. "Come on, Georgie. Give me your best shot."

That night, Winona spent the night in Fred's bed, lazily sucking on a Sugar Quill while Fred and George talked about the shop. Lee was already asleep, but the guy could sleep through a train crash, so they didn't have worry about keeping quiet. She was just beginning to feel tired enough to sleep when there was a gentle knocking at the dorm's door.

Exchanging bewildered looks, George was the one to climb out of bed, opening the door and poking his head through the gap. "Harry?" Winona heard him ask.

"Er – I know it's late. Um, is there any chance Winnie might…be with Fred, tonight?"

George glanced over his shoulder. "You're being summoned, Win."

Winona got up and padded on bare feet across to the door. Harry looked sheepish, dressed in pyjamas and his hair rumpled, like he'd been trying to sleep but hadn't had any luck with it. She knew the feeling. "You okay, Boy-Wonder?"

He glanced worriedly over her shoulder at the twins. They were back on Fred's bed, sorting out order forms, and even though they weren't paying them any attention, she could tell the last thing Harry wanted was anyone overhearing whatever he had to say.

Without a word she slipped from the room and shut the door softly behind her. Harry took a step back, leaning his weight against the stone wall behind him, looking even more awkward than usual.

"Harry?" she prompted him.

"I – erm – I spoke to Hermione, but I don't think she has as much experience… What I mean to say is, I wanted to talk to Padfoot, but I can't risk a letter, not even about this. Which leaves you, and it's a bit of a strange thing to ask, but I figured you do have experience, and you're always honest, and good at explaining things, even better than Hermione, sometimes – so long as it isn't about schoolwork-"

"Harry, honestly, what in Merlin's name are you on about?"

Harry took a deep, steadying breath. "I – er – well, Cho sort of…kissed me…tonight," he finally confessed, cheeks bright pink in the low lighting of the dorm's main corridor.

Eyebrows shooting up her forehead, Winona reached out to punch Harry in the shoulder. "Look at you, stud," she said playfully. But Harry didn't look particularly pleased with how the evening had gone. She winced sympathetically. "That bad, huh?"

"Well, it wasn't, um, bad – it's just…she was crying," he told her with a grimance.

Winona blinked. "What, while you were snogging?"

Harry's face went red. "Well, she was already crying about Cedric, and then she was just sort of there and I didn't know what to do, I just went along with it…"

"Right," Winona murmured, wondering how it was possible that not one but two of the closest people to her in the world had chosen tonight as the night to come to her for relationship advice. "Well, are you two a thing now?"

Harry frowned deeply, looking much too serious for a fifteen-year-old boy who'd just gotten his first kiss. "I suppose I should ask her out, right?" he asked unsurely. "To Hogsmeade or something?"

He seemed surprisingly adverse to the idea. "Do you want to?" she asked dryly.

He frowned again, looking confused. "Er, well, I s'pose so."

"Always a brilliant way to start off a relationship," she chuckled. Harry glared and her wicked smirk melted into something softer. "Harry, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," she told him, reaching out to grip his shoulder, trying to channel Sirius – the person they both knew should be handling this particular milestone in Harry's life. But if she was all he had, she was going to do the best she could for him. "Look, why don't you get some sleep? Everything will make so much more sense in the morn-"

She cut off with a gasp, suddenly pain ricocheting through her skull as her vision went black. There was no fade, no flicker. One moment she could see, the next she couldn't. Her body disappeared, lost to the current of time. Winona couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she could only watch.

Harry was in bed, laid atop his covers, face scrunched in pain and sweat coating his body. He was dreaming – having a nightmare? No, it seemed worse than that.

She felt that pain in her skull again, right over the right side of her forehead, in the exact place Harry's famous scar had always sat. She could almost feel the shape of the lightning bolt as it seared against her skin, like it were crackling with electricity and the promise of a painful death.

Then she could see again, and she found her gripping hard to Harry's shoulder, bent at the waist, struggling to breathe evenly. Harry had a hand braced on her back, one wrapped around her waist. He was holding her up, and she realised with terrifying clarity that this vision had almost taken her to the floor.

"Winnie?" Harry's voice was clear in her ear, ringing with worry. "You all right?"

She didn't have a sketchpad or pencil in her hands, and her nails were all intact, so apparently the vision hadn't lasted long enough for her to need to encapsulate it in a drawing. But her chest still heaved with the memory of the pain. She was getting better at translating the visions, now. Seeing beyond what she'd been shown, to the real truth within.

Something terrible was going to happen tonight, but whatever it was, it was being guarded from her. She realised, suddenly, exactly what was wrong.

Voldemort had found a way around her. She was watching him – his decisions, his choices – and somehow he'd figured out how to play that to his advantage. The aether knew something bad would happen, but it couldn't tell her what. It could only tell her when, and how they'd know.

"Winnie, what's wrong?" Harry was saying quietly but fervently, in an effort not to wake the entire tower in his worry.

"Nothing," she panted, and it took more effort than it should have to stand up straight. "Vision about Christmas," she lied, feeling like a terrible person as she did. She pasted an entirely fake smile onto her mouth, shuttering the panic in her eyes. "Nothing important. You need to go to bed, and I need to have a word with Fred about the present he's gotten me this year."

"That was about a present?" Harry asked skeptically. "It seemed…violent."

She smiled her most convincing smile. "Bed, young man," she said, playfully stern. "I'll see you later – I mean, in the morning."

Harry's eyes were narrowed, shrewd, but he didn't argue. He knew her well enough by now to know that arguing was pointless, and would get him nowhere. With a sigh he turned to leave, but Winona stopped him with a murmur of his name.

"Cho's nice, and she really likes you – I can tell. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You don't have to be anything for anyone but yourself. Don't forget that, okay? And if you decide to go out with Cho, I'll support you completely, but I expect an official introduction so I can meet her properly."

He rolled his eyes, looking far less suspicious now that she'd read him the riot act. "Yes, Winnie," he droned. She smiled and pushed him back in the direction of his room, trying to ignore the deep pit in her stomach that told her she was sending him off to war.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one! Thanks to all the people reaching out to me on instagram and twitter! It's been so cool chatting with you all, seeing your memes and answering questions about the story. A few of you said you were worried about bothering me – but I promise you never do! I'm never anything but thrilled to chat with you.

If you wanted a look behind the curtain at this story and my writing habits – follow me on social media under "arrianereads".

Also, this is officially my most reviewed story! We've still got a long way to go, and I continue to be blown away by the response so far. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, whether you celebrate Christmas or not. This is a time of year for reflection and love, in all its forms. I hope you drink lots of warm tea and read plenty of amazing stories. Remember that I love you, and I'm always here to chat!

Spotlight Review: NanoWHYmo (absolutely adore your username, by the way). Thanks so much for reviewing. I'm so glad you liked the last chapter, and hope you enjoyed this one just as much. I try and even out the 'screen-time' – as it were – for each character, but it isn't always easy to find a good balance. The Ginny/Harry relationship is something I'm going to take great care to handle – I hope to improve upon its suddenness in the books and its utter failure in the movies.