The day passed in something of a daze. There were pies and tea and butterbeer, the house echoing with a symphony of Christmas crackers and tone-deaf carols sung by the inebriated. It was busy and loud and there was somebody everywhere Winona turned, offering her another butterbeer and laughing about something or other.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually Christmas day came to a close.

In the days that followed, that holiday spirit began to get sucked from the house like water down a drain. Sirius grew testy and short-tempered, his gloomy attitude filling the house to its bursting point, and infecting everyone under its roof.

Winona knew he was just disappointed the holiday was over, and that he didn't know how to properly deal with it. Most of his early-adult days were spent locked in a cell in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by Dementors. So it wasn't really his fault he was so shit with emotions.

It was on the day before they were all due to head back to Hogwarts when it all came to a head. Winona was baking some caramel slice in the kitchen when the doorbell rang, awakening her grandmother's portrait and making her stomach drop out from beneath her like somebody had torn away the carpet under her feet.

She frowned down at the chequered oven mitts covering her hands. Sometimes, she really hated her Inner Eye. No vision, just a sense that things were about to go terribly wrong.

Sirius was sat at the table, a copy of the Prophet in front of him. Usually there would be easy conversation, tongue-in-cheek critiques of the day's news about them, comments on the state of the Wizarding world as a whole. But today it was silent, the only sound in the room the tap of her foot against the floor and the gentle rustle every time Sirius turned to a new page.

She focused her energy on her task, pulling the slice out from the oven and beginning to pour on the chocolate for the top layer. She was just putting the slice in the spelled cupboard they used as a fridge when there were footsteps on the stairs.

"Ugh," muttered Sirius darkly. For a moment she thought maybe he'd found something unsavoury on the bottom of his shoe – because that was exactly what it sounded like – but when she looked up it was to find him glowering at the newcomer with hatred in his eyes.

Winona wasn't fairing much better.

Snape stood at the base of the stairs, that perpetual scowl on his sneering lips, greasy hair slicked back and shining in the lights. "What do you want?" Sirius demanded, as though it were terribly uncommon for somebody to drop by unannounced.

(It wasn't, of course, what with Grimmauld Place being the Order's headquarters. But she supposed Snape wasn't just any old Order member. He was Sirius' old school rival, and the current bane of his existence.)

Snape pulled a letter from his robes and held it up like the winner at the Olympics might present their gold medal. "I've been sent by Dumbledore," he said needlessly – Winona very much doubted there was anyone else who could convince the greasy old bat to so much as step foot in Grimmauld Place.

"What for?" Sirius asked hotly, as though the response had annoyed him.

Snape threw the letter into the air, and Winona watched from her place pressed against the sink as it floated through the air like a leaf on the wind, only with single-minded direction. It fluttered and swooped its way to Sirius who plucked it from the air, utterly unimpressed by the show of wandless magic.

Winona peeled off her mitts and crossed the room so she was stood beside her dad, reading the letter over his shoulder.

Sirius,

Under my order, Severus will be instructing Harry in the art of Occlumency. I believe we can agree this is a necessary precaution to take. Much like Winona, he is too valuable to leave unprotected, in any regard. Thank you for your understanding.

Then it was signed all fancy, with his titles and everything, and Winona curled her lip at the casual display of power. It seemed a small and insignificant thing, but it irked her all the same.

Sirius dropped the letter to the table, thunder in his eyes. "What's this rubbish?"

Snape arched a single eyebrow. "I believe the letter was clear."

"I'm his godfather," barked Sirius, defensive and hard. "Don't you need my permission?"

"No," Snape said dryly. "And even if we did, I don't see how preventing the boy from learning Occlumency will benefit him in any way."

Sirius snorted. "Any time spent away from you, I consider a benefit."

Winona laughed and Snape's expression turned to pure ice. Although she was no longer taking Potions, Winona knew there were plenty of other ways Snape could make her remaining months at Hogwarts a living nightmare, so she quickly schooled her features into something more innocent and pretended to be very interested in the charcoal under her fingernails.

Footsteps on the stairs once more, and they looked up to find Harry stood in the doorway, a hesitant look on his face as he took in the members of the room and the tension they were swathed in.

Snape looked up, looking utterly disinterested with the task. Winona wondered what Dumbledore had on him to make him come on this errand from hell. Or maybe he had nothing, and Snape's respect for the warlock was simply more than Winona could understand. "Sit down, Potter," the Potions professor said in his typical sneer.

"You know, I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape," said Sirius, rocking back on his chair legs and addressing the ceiling as though it were more worthy of his words than the wizard before him. "It's my house, you see."

Snape's thin lips curled back in a sneer, but he was smart enough not to pick the fight Sirius was clearly trying to start, turning his attention back to Harry, who reluctantly crossed the room and took the seat beside Sirius. Winona remained standing, a terrible feeling in her gut telling her that she needed to be ready for when a fight inevitably broke out.

"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," sneered Snape, "but the Blacks here-"

He said their name derisively, and Winona stood taller, fingers itching to pull the wand from her hair and curse the wizard's bollocks to his forehead. But that would be more trouble than it was worth, and so she stayed silent, arms crossed over her chest.

Sirius wasn't planning on being quite so docile. "We're his family," he snapped. Snape remained unmoved.

"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," he continued, "but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel … involved."

Sirius' attention zeroed in on Snape, which didn't mean anything good. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded hotly.

"Merely that I am sure you must feel – ah – frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing useful," Snape stressed the word snidely, "for the Order."

Sirius began to turn red with rage, and Snape looked awfully pleased with himself as he turned his attention to Harry, who looked like he rather wished he were anywhere else in the world.

"The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term," Snape told Harry simply.

Harry blinked thrice. "Study what?"

"Occlumency, Potter," said Snape in the kind of voice that told her exactly how highly – or rather, lowly – he thought of her cousin. "The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."

Harry frowned. "But why do I have to study Occlu-thing?"

"Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea," said Snape without missing a beat. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry said automatically. "Who's going to be teaching me?"

Snape arched a singly, oily eyebrow. "I am."

Harry seemed to be having a mild stroke, staring at Snape like he didn't understand the words coming from his mouth. Quickly, he turned to stare at Sirius and Winona for support.

Winona shrugged as if to say 'Sorry, Boy-Wonder', while Sirius turned his attention back to Snape. "Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" he demanded combatively. "Why you?"

"I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," said Snape silkily. "I assure you I did not beg for the job. I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."

With that he stood to his feet and turned to leave. Winona let out a breath, but her relief was very short lived.

"Wait a moment," Sirius called after his old rival, and Snape froze in the doorway. He hesitated a beat – probably contemplating the value of ignoring Sirius and walking out anyway. But whatever sums he did in his head left him turning reluctantly back to them, lip curled back in a sneer.

"I am in rather a hurry, Black," he said snidely. "Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."

"I'll get to the point, then," said Sirius as he got to his feet.

He was taller than Snape, and although Winona had every confidence in her dad, she couldn't say for certain that he'd win a fight against Snape. While Snape had been teaching and training and using magic every day for twelve years, Sirius had been locked in a shrinking prison cell in Azkaban. If the wands were tossed aside altogether, her dad would easily come out on top, but something told her Snape would die before giving up his significant advantage, no matter how satisfying the thought of slugging Sirius Black in the jaw.

"If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to," Sirius warned Snape. He spoke plainly and simply, and Snape lip curled back again.

"How touching. But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"

Sirius bristled. "Yes, I have," he said, a note of pride in his voice.

"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape said snidely.

If there was one topic sure to set Sirius off faster than one of Filibuster's Fireworks, it was James Potter. The legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he shoved it aside and marched towards Snape, his wand already held out in warning. Snape didn't seem to react, standing still and eyeing Sirius' wand as though calculating his chances in the coming fight.

"Sirius!" called Harry, but his godfather was deaf to all but Snape's jeers. Winona stepped closer to Harry's chair, gripping the back of it and watching carefully, prepared to step in if she had to. She knew she probably couldn't beat Snape in a Wizard's duel, but she highly doubted the approaching fight was going to be anywhere close to civilised.

"I've warned you, Snivelus," snarled Sirius, so close to Snape now that Winona thought they might forego the wands, after all. "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better-"

"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" hissed Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"

Okay, that was a bit of a low blow. Winona reached for her own wand, pulling it free from the messy knot in her hair and holding it in nimble fingers. Sirius' shoulders were set like concrete, and although she couldn't see the look on his face, she didn't doubt his eyes were full of venom.

"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days?" he asked Snape in a snarl. "I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

Snape remained unbothered. "Speaking of dogs," he said softly, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform … gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?"

Fury written into every line on his face, Sirius raised his wand. Harry and Winona moved at the same time – because for as much as Winona would love to see her dad put Snape in his place, not even she was sure what the outcome would be – other than completely disastrous.

"NO!" shouted Harry, vaulting over the table and throwing himself between them. "Sirius, don't!"

Sirius was deaf to his godson's shouts. "Are you calling me a coward?" he roared, trying to push Harry out of the way. Harry would not budge.

"Why, yes, I suppose I am," jeered Snape.

Harry was trying his best to push Sirius away from the smug Snape, and Winona slipped between them too, helping her cousin push their guardian away from trouble.

"Get – out – of – it!" Sirius shouted, struggling past them desperately.

Winona left Harry to deal with Sirius while she turned to Snape. "You should go – now," she warned the Slytherin darkly.

"It's hardly my fault your father has such a temper," he spat the word like it disgusted him. Defensive and hateful, Winona lifted her wand, its tip aimed in the wizard's pallid face. Snape seemed unimpressed by her wordless threat. "You're going to attack a teacher?" he asked, baiting her.

Winona didn't bite. "We're not at school," she said simply. "So I wouldn't be attacking a teacher, would I? I'd be attacking an unwelcome prick in my own home."

Snape's sneer was so furious that for a moment she honestly feared for her life, especially when Snape lifted his wand in return. "Don't you dare raise a wand to my daughter!" roared Sirius, more enraged than Winona had ever heard him. She wasn't worried that he wouldn't be able to hold his own anymore. He seemed wrathful enough now to burn out every star in the heavens.

"Sirius – no!" cried Harry, shoving Sirius back with all his might. Winona didn't remove her wand from Snape's face, and Snape had his lifted, too, a sneer making his ugly face worse.

That was how the Weasley family (plus Hermione) found them, caught in a standoff in the middle of the kitchen, wands drawn and Harry looking about ready to tear his hair out in frustration.

"Cured!" Mr Weasley announced brightly before he'd had a chance to process the unexpected scene in front of him. "Completely cured!"

He and his family realised rather abruptly that the situation in the kitchen wasn't a pleasant one, and they all froze, taking in Winona and Snape's standoff and Harry holding back a snarling Sirius.

"Merlin's beard," said Mr Weasley, smile morphing into a look of concern, "what's going on here?"

Winona had to try very hard to lower her wand and erase the snarling fury from her face. She reluctantly shoved her wand back into her topknot and took two very large steps away from Snape, who looked rather like he were trying to swallow a mouthful of dry Gillyweed.

He turned on his heel and made for the door, stopping only long enough to mutter, "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter," before striding up the stairs and out of sight.

He left a ringing silence in his wake. "Prick," muttered Winona, throwing herself violently down in a chair and reaching for a croissant on a tray in the middle of the table, beginning to tear it into little chunks to chew on angrily.

"Erm – what's been going on?" Mr Weasley asked again, looking hesitant but – on the plus side – a whole lot healthier than he had in that hospital bed.

"Nothing, Arthur," said Sirius unconvincingly. With what looked like enormous effort, he smiled. "So … you're cured? That's great news, really great."

Everyone hesitantly moved deeper into the room, looking over their shoulder as if worried Snape might reappear to pick another fight. Fred and George immediately stole the chairs on either side of Winona, looking far too excited for their own good.

"You just had a wand in Snape's face," said Fred, utterly giddy.

"I know," she muttered. "I was there."

"He's going to make your life hell once we get back to school," said George, but he certainly sounded cheerful enough about it.

"Probably," she agreed, and left it at that.

"What happened?" Fred pressed eagerly. Winona sighed and told them quietly what had happened before they'd arrived in the room, leaving out the part about what – exactly – Harry would be studying under Snape.

Dinner passed without incident, though Winona couldn't help but notice her dad's sullen, withdrawn expression as he picked halfheartedly at his meal. Winona spoke with Bill and Mr Weasley from where they sat across the table, then got drawn into playing judge in a pun contest between the twins that had the people around them laughing hard enough to hurt.

The incident with Snape notwithstanding, the night was rather a pleasant one. Everyone was thrilled to have Mr Weasley back to full health and with them once again, and as for Mr Weasley himself, he seemed to have a new spark of life to him that hadn't been there before – as though his brush with death had reminded him to enjoy the time he had with the people he loved.

Winona caught his eye at one point while everyone was losing themselves over one of the twins' jokes and took note of the gentle, content smile on his pale lips. The smile widened as he noticed her watching, and she nodded once, silently telling him just how happy she was that he was here, and that he was well. Then Mrs Weasley pulled his attention away.

The moment passed but left Winona feeling warm inside, and a little kinder towards cruel fate, who always seemed to have it in for her and her family. For once, something had worked out. It may not have been her vision that had saved Mr Weasley's life, but it would be hers that saved Sirius. She knew it in her bones.

She would die before letting that future from ever happening – and she had a feeling she just might get the chance.

The next day they left for Hogwarts. Winona didn't want to say goodbye – to Grimmauld Place and her art supplies and Tonks and Sirius. For the first time in a long time – or possibly ever – she didn't want to go back to school, knowing all that waited her there was homework for the upcoming NEWTs and a cruel, wrathful Umbridge.

She supposed she was glad for the fact that they had the DA to keep her going, and that she had Fred and George and the rest of their friends with her. They were bright spots in an otherwise grim setting, and she clung to them with relish.

Saying goodbye to her dad was difficult and a little bit stilted. She could tell Snape's snide remarks had left a mark that Sirius would never in a million years admit to, but words weren't her strong suit, and she had no idea what to say to make him feel better. She gave it her best shot, anyway.

"Don't do anything stupid," she begged her dad as they stood in a corner of the entryway, listening to the sounds of the twins teasing Ron about his new woollen vest and Mrs Weasley fussing over a scowling Ginny's hair. "Please."

"That's a tall order, Pup." Sirius' voice sounded terribly hollow.

She rolled her eyes, attempting to keep things light. "Anything more stupid than usual, at least?"

He nodded once. "I'll try," he agreed, and although it wasn't exactly the answer she was after, she knew it was as good as she was going to get.

Winona frowned and he seemed to realise – finally – that his gloomy attitude was only adding to everyone's problems. He attempted an unconvincing smile, then slung an arm over her shoulders and brought her into a side hug.

"I'm going to be okay," he assured her. "Only a few months and you'll be done with school, and you can move in here permanently."

She could tell he was clinging to that future with everything he had. And she promised herself then and there that it would come to pass. That she would save him when the time came and they would be happy. They would get time to be a family.

"I'm going to miss you," she told him, feeling rather like she were baring her heart for him to see.

When Sirius smiled, it was soft with a warmth she hadn't seen from him in days. "You too, Pup," he said quietly, then pulled her into another gentle hug. "I'd better say goodbye to Harry," he added once they'd stepped away. "I'm giving him something – but it's for the both of you."

She nodded. "I'll see you soon."

"Soon," he promised, and with that she walked away, taking Fred's hand and trying to ignore the way the goodbye felt hollow and empty and ringing with terrible foreboding. Like it was the last goodbye they'd ever get to have.

They took the Knight Bus back to Hogwarts. It was hardly the smoothest journey they'd ever had, but Winona was so lost in her own head that she barely noticed it. "Are you okay?" Fred asked as they gripped tight to their seats and braced themselves against the wild ride.

"Hm?" she hummed, turning away from the window where she was staring unseeingly out at the countryside as it flew by them, too fast to process. "What do you mean?"

"You seem…off," he said quietly. "You didn't even punch that conductor guy for looking down your shirt."

She shrugged. "Just sucks to be going back to school," she murmured, then frowned. "When did I start dreading spending time at Hogwarts?"

"I'd say it was right around the time Umbridge arrived."

She snorted a laugh. "You're not wrong."

"I feel the same, you know?" he said after a few minutes of dangerous, jolting travel and a few side-eyes from the other passengers on the bus who likely recognised her from the Prophet. "I don't really wanna go back to school. I just want it to be over – I just want my real life to start."

"Any news on the premises you applied for?" she asked hopefully.

"We're on the shortlist of candidates – not that it was very long to begin with. Not exactly a time in history where small businesses are booming," he said with a scrunch of his nose.

"War will do that to you," added George, leaning over the seat where he was sat next to Ginny and Remus.

"I reckon there's no better time," argued Fred. "Everyone needs a laugh, in times like these."

They arrived at the Hogwarts gates, and Winona dragged her trunk out onto the road. Tonks – disguised as an old woman with greying hair and a hooked nose – pulled her into a swift embrace. "See you soon, Cuz," she said in Winona's ear. "Stay outta trouble."

"Back at you," Winona replied before quickly pulling Remus into a hug of her own. "Look after each other, Moony," she said in his ear. He bristled but she just hugged him tighter. "And keep an eye on Sirius, too. Keep him out of trouble. Please."

Pulling away, Remus nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best."

Then they were hopping back aboard the Knight Bus and with a final, suggestive leer at her from the conductor, the triple-decker bus disappeared and left them alone on the other side of Hogwarts' front gates.

Being back at school wasn't quite as terrible as Winona had for some reason thought it would be. It was familiar in a comforting way, and as she greeted her friends with hugs and listened to their tales from the holidays and shared sweets with Lee and jinxed a couple of Slytherins picking on an innocent first-year, Winona found herself relaxing into easy, familiar routine.

As much as she wanted to get out of school and start life in the real world, she had to remind herself that these were times in her life she'd never get back, and that she ought to enjoy them while she still could.

The following day classes began again, and after a gruelling Charms class – which was mostly just Flitwick warning them about the importance of NEWTs and then having them all revise the previous term's work until they went cross-eyed – Winona was walking with Lee and the twins towards the Great Hall when she caught sight of Harry stood in the middle of the corridor, smiling dopily at thin air.

"I'll meet you guys at lunch, okay?" she said, pecking Fred on the cheek and waving at the other two in farewell. George opened his mouth to ask something – probably where she was sneaking off to – but then spotted Harry and answered his own question.

Harry was stood in place, still grinning like the world around him didn't exist – or, if it did, he was particularly thrilled by it. He didn't even hear his cousin's approach, staring at nothing, looking disconcertingly pleased with himself.

"You haven't been dosed with a love potion, have you?" she asked in greeting. Harry jolted out of his stupor, blinking at her in surprise. She waved a hand in front of his emerald eyes. "That happened to Lee once, y'know – it was not a fun few days."

"Winnie," he said, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. "Er – I just…" he trailed off, words seeming to escape him. He stared at her a moment and Winona stared back, trying to seem patient in hopes it would coax an answer from him. Finally Harry sighed and said, "Well, if you must know. I think…I think I just got a date."

Her eyebrows shot upwards. "A date?" she asked, undeniably surprised. "With who?"

Harry's smile turned dopey again. "Cho."

"Cho Chang?" Harry nodded. "Huh. Go, Boy-Wonder." He stopped grinning long enough to roll his eyes. "How're you doing with everything else, though?" she tacked on, and the grin melted away altogether, replaced by a deep grimace.

"You know, you could let me be happy for longer than a minute at a time," he griped. "For a moment there I actually forgot about these bollocks lessons with Snape," he spat the name like it tasted bad.

"Careful, kid, you're starting to sound like me," she warned. Harry just rolled his eyes again. "Besides – Occlumency isn't actually bollocks, you know?"

He scrunched his nose. "How d'you know?"

She was surprised he didn't already know, frowning at him in confusion. "Because I've had lessons, too."

Now he looked shocked. "You studied with Snape too? How did I not know that?"

"It was with Dumbledore, actually," she confessed. Harry's jaw dropped open.

"Oh, so you get to live it up, drinking tea and talking about sweets with Dumbledore, but I have to get locked in a dungeon with Snape for the night? How is that fair?"

He sounded so desperately frustrated that Winona felt guilty. But she didn't know how to make it any better. She couldn't change the past, and once Dumbledore was set on something, there usually wasn't much even she could do to change his mind.

"Hang on, if you can do Occlumency, why don't I just learn from you?" he asked suddenly.

He looked so hopeful, she felt like shit having to tell him no. "I'm nowhere near good enough at it to teach you," she told him apologetically. "I know enough to shield my mind and not an inch more. I don't think Dumbledore was particularly impressed by my lack of interest in the subject."

"Do you still have lessens with him?"

"When I was younger, I'd have them every week. Now I only see him every other month or so for a refresher. I think he got sick of my whining."

Harry glowered down at his shoes. "At least you weren't stuck with Snape."

He had a good point there. "I'm sure there's a reason Dumbledore can't teach you himself, Harry," she told him, gripping his shoulder warmly and silently omitting the part where she already knew the reason, but just wasn't allowed to say. "Chin up, Buttercup," she added, "won't it be nice to know old Voldy won't be able to infiltrate your mind and learn our secrets and kill us all through your body?"

Harry shuddered and Winona realised she was maybe being a tad too blunt, even if she was mostly joking. She winced apologetically but Harry just looked down at his shoes.

"Look, Harry," she began, the levity vanishing from her voice, replaced by something low and somber. "I know these lessons are going to suck – Occlumency is incredibly uncomfortable, and I can't imagine anyone worse to learn it with than Snape – but they're necessary. I didn't mean to make light of Voldemort potentially possessing you – but if it's possible, if there's even the slightest chance… Well, isn't it better to be safe than sorry?"

Harry swallowed loudly, looking stricken, and she wished she didn't have to be the cool voice of reason. But she did; because she loved him.

"Promise me you'll take it seriously?" she asked. He sighed but nodded all the same. She forced her lips into a vague attempt at a smirk. "Just so you know, 'taking it seriously' doesn't mean you can't still give Snape hell. Y'know, should the opportunity arise."

Finally Harry smiled, a roguish little grin, and in the sunlight streaming in through the open windows she caught sight of a hint of stubble along his jaw. The sight of it sent a sort of hollow pang through her as she realised he was well and truly on his way to adulthood. "I really thought you were going to curse him," he confessed, a laugh in his voice. "The other day in the kitchen with Snuffles, I mean."

"One day I really will snap," she told him furtively. "And I think the twins'll throw me a party when I do."

"Just so long as you don't snap at Umbridge," he said seriously.

"Not even I'm stupid enough to do anything more to get on her bad side," she muttered. "Especially not with her reporting back to Fudge about my every move."

"You think she's spying on you?"

Winona's stare was flat and piercing. "She's spying on all of us, Harry. That's why she's here."

"Huh," he muttered. "And here I thought it was just to make my life even more difficult."

She clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sure it can only go up from here."

That night, while the twins were showing off their latest joke product to their slew of adoring fans (Headless Hats, something they'd come up with after they'd borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak and worn it like a turban to freak the younger students out), Winona was sat by the fire, halfheartedly going over her Arithmancy notes from her afternoon class, when Harry wandered into the room.

She knew the second he'd walked in, and she looked up to see him scanning the room as if searching for someone. When his eyes found hers, she realised it was her he was looking for, and he made a beeline towards her.

Angelina, Katie and Lee were sat nearby, attempting to work on their own projects despite the constant distraction of the twins' loud exhibition in the middle of the common room.

"Can we talk, Winnie?" Harry asked her in a thick voice, casting her friends a wary look.

"Watch my stuff," she ordered Lee, who saluted and went back to sucking on a Sugar Quill. Winona pulled a strawberry flavoured one from her bag, tore off the wrapper and began to suck on it as she followed Harry across to the far corner of the room where it was only a touch more quiet than the rest of the space.

Hermione and Ron joined them, both looking more than a little bit concerned. Winona got the feeling they weren't just going to be talking about the weather. "Harry, I really don't think you should-" Hermione began to say, a furrow in her brow.

But Harry ignored her and blurted, "What's in the Department of Mysteries?"

He stared directly at Winona, awaiting her response, and she pulled the pink Sugar Quill from her mouth with a quiet pop. She said nothing, staring at him, her own pulse loud in her ears.

"Winnie," he said again, frowning deeply. "What's in the Department of Mysteries that everyone from the Order's been guarding?"

Snapping out of her daze, Winona took a step towards him and slapped her free hand over his mouth. "Would you shut up?" she hissed, casting a glance at the nearest group of Gryffindors, all third-years from the looks of it, eyeing them with no small amount of curiosity. "What in the name of Merlin did Snape tell you?" she demanded in a whisper that wouldn't be overheard.

"So, I'm right," said Harry once he'd shaken off her grip. "There is something. Is it a weapon?"

Winona dropped her face into her hand and forced herself to take a deep breath. "Harry, you shouldn't be asking me these questions," she said once she'd properly collected herself. "You know I can't answer."

"So you do know," said Harry triumphantly.

He seemed to give no concern to the fact that just by asking her these questions he was risking her life. She scowled at him, struggling to piece together what she could tell him without betraying her Vow and getting herself dead.

"For your information, Boy-Wonder," she began, and for the first time in their relationship, the nickname was said with scorn, "I don't know what's in the Department of Mysteries. All I know is what you apparently seem to. There's something there, it's being guarded by the Order, and Voldemort wants it."

Ron and Hermione flinched, but Winona and Harry ignored them.

"Are you lying?" Harry asked point-blank.

Winona took a step back. "I've never lied to you before, Harry, and you know that," she said, scowling back at him. "Now would you stop asking me questions I can't answer without dying?"

"But I thought in exchange for the Vow, Dumbledore agreed to tell you everything," said Harry rather than back away. He seemed confused. "I thought that was the whole point."

"I'm nothing but Dumbledore's lapdog. The Vow doesn't get me an all-access pass to his secrets. All I get told is what I need to know to See. So, yeah, I know more than you. But I don't know everything."

Harry deflated, disappointed that she couldn't tell him more. But that only angered her.

"Even if I did know more, telling you would kill me, Harry," she reminded him, sounding wounded. "Are you really so desperate for answers that you'd risk my life to get them?"

Finally seeing the selfishness of his actions, Harry's shoulders slumped and guilt swam in his eyes. "I didn't – I just needed to…" He took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm sorry, Win."

She nodded slowly, ignoring her own thunderous pulse. "It's all right. Harry – anything I can tell you, I will. So let me say this; stay away from the Department of Mysteries."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said. "It's hazy to me. I haven't Seen anything concrete, but I know enough to know that no good will come from it." Harry didn't react, tugging at the rubber band he'd gotten threaded around his wrist at one point or another. "How'd your lesson with Snape go?"

"I hate him," he spat.

"Yeah," she agreed bitterly. "I don't imagine it was any fun."

Harry ran a hand down the length of his face. "I'm exhausted," he told them weakly. "I think I just need to go to bed."

"What about Umbridge's assignment, Harry?" asked Hermione importantly.

"Really not my priority at the moment, Hermione."

"But if you ignore it, you'll just get another detention-"

"Hermione," said Winona reproachfully, "let him rest. I've tried my hand at Occlumency. If it went anything like my lessons, he needs a break. Even more so since Snape was the one teaching him."

Hermione clearly still wanted to argue, but she relented with a sigh. "Okay," she said, but glanced at Harry sternly. "But put it in your homework planner so you don't forget."

Harry sluggishly did as he was told before shouldering his bag and making a beeline for the stairs. Winona caught him by the wrist and kissed him gently on the cheek before he could escape. "Everything'll be okay, Boy-Wonder," she promised, and this time the nickname was said with all of its usual affection.

Harry's smile was really more of a grimace, but she figured it was the best she was going to get and let it go. Harry disappeared up into the boys' dorm and Winona left Ron and Hermione alone, heading for the twins, who were still showing off their new product, a small line of younger students already lining up to buy the brilliant inventions.

She was halfway across the common room when the vision struck. It was violent and all-consuming, like the deadly crashing of a tsunami. Her bag was across the other side of the room – she hadn't thought a vision of this size would hit between leaving it and getting back to it again – but there was at the very least a stick of charcoal in her pocket. She tugged it free and all but threw herself at the nearest tapestry – an old red and gold thing with images of knights on horseback and women in fancy gowns – before she let the current take her.

Explosions all around her, an icy chill pressing in on her from all sides – like all the light and warmth in the world had vanished, replaced by anger and despair. Somebody was laughing – a woman – so loud and shrill and manic that it made chills appear down a spine she couldn't quite locate.

Then it was over and she blinked back to reality to find the general noise and ambience of the Gryffindor common room replaced by a tense silence broken only by hushed, gossipy whispers and the occasional giggle or snort.

Winona shut her eyes for a brief moment, charcoal-covered hand frozen where it was finishing off the edge of the boxlike shape of Azkaban prison sketched onto the tapestry in the common room. Embarrassment flushed over her, hot and uncomfortable, and then there came a loud voice, "What do you think you're looking at?"

She turned her head just enough to see Fred and George stood on either side of her like a pair of looming, overprotective gargoyles. "Go back to your knitting," snapped George at a pair of sixth-year girls who were smirking dryly at Winona's misfortune.

"Ten percent off all our products for the next week to anyone who keeps this to themselves," added Fred. It was a sweet gesture, though Winona doubted it would work. Gossip in this school was like a plague; rife and hidden around every corner.

"Triple the price to anyone being a prat about it," said George. "I'm looking at you, Hargreaves."

Maxwell Hargreaves shrank away from the person he'd been whispering with, a sullen look on his face. Winona shoved the broken stick of charcoal back into her pocket and tried to scrub the black off on her robes.

Fred was there when she turned around, catching her before she could trip. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Gotta get to Dumbledore, now," she said quickly, just as Lee appeared as if by magic, her book bag slung over one shoulder. She took it from him gratefully and looked back up at Fred. "Keep an eye on things here."

"That's Azkaban, isn't it?" Emily Reese, a blonde-haired girl from Ginny's year, asked loudly.

A furrow in his brow, George turned to her worriedly. "Why've you drawn Azkaban?"

"You'll know soon enough," was all Winona said in reply. She pressed up onto her toes to kiss Fred gently on the cheek, lingering there an extra moment, breathing in his fresh-soil-and-fireworks scent and letting it fill her with courage. "I'll be back later."

Then she left before they could stop her. The crowd in the common room parted for her like the red sea for Moses, but it didn't make her feel powerful. It just made her feel dirty. Out in the corridor it was empty and quiet. Not in a peaceful way, but rather in a haunting fashion. It suddenly felt less like the whacky magic school she'd been going to for seven years and more like an old abandoned castle she'd stumbled upon in the forest. It was terribly disconcerting.

She made her way through the castle, silent as a wraith, and she was almost at the Headmaster's office when the worst sound in the entire world spilled from an empty classroom to her right.

"Hem hem."

Freezing where she stood, Winona shut her eyes for a count of five, reminding herself that cursing Umbridge would only create more problems than it would solve, no matter how good it might feel in the moment. Then once she'd overcome the urge to destroy the woman before her, Winona turned to face her and fixed her expression into the closest thing to a smile she could manage.

"Yes, Professor Umbridge?" she asked sweetly.

"Might I ask where you're heading off to at this late hour?" Umbridge asked, the colour of her fluffy pink jumper seeming harsh in the firelight of the candles nearby.

Winona cocked her head in confusion. "It's only seven," she reminded the teacher (and she used that word very lightly) simply. "Curfew isn't until eight."

When Umbridge smiled it was all teeth. "You didn't answer my question, dear."

Winona's instinct was to lie, but she was only a hall away from Dumbledore's office, with nowhere else believable to be going at that time of night. The best lies always had seeds of truth; this one was just going to have to have more than most. "I'm going to see the Headmaster, Professor," she told Umbridge, voice just as saccharine as hers. "I have a question about my course-load that only he can answer."

Umbridge smiled again, the kind of smile that just made Winona itch to punch it clean. "You hardly need bother the Headmaster with such trivial matters, dear," she said sweetly. "Why don't you visit me, or your Head of House, instead?"

"Professor Dumbledore has an open-door policy, Professor," Winona reminded her. "He encourages us to come to him with our problems. No matter how…trivial…they may seem."

"But don't you think it's awfully late for this discussion?" Umbridge asked innocently. "Wouldn't it be a conversation better suited to daylight hours?"

"I'm very busy with my NEWTs, Professor. This is the time that best suits me."

Umbridge seemed to realise Winona was the type with an answer for everything, and finally decided to take another approach. "Well, being High Inquisitor, it's highly important for me to be aware of all student queries and concerns. If there's a problem with your course-load, I would very much like to hear about it. Why don't I accompany you to the Headmaster's office? Then we can all have a nice chat; together."

Winona's smile was the flash of a dagger. "Sounds lovely, Professor." They walked the last corridor in silence, and Umbridge watched with a furrowed brow as Winona said, "Sugar Quills," to the guarding gargoyle and it leapt obediently aside.

"And you just happen to know the Headmaster's password?" Umbridge asked as they stood on the stairs and slowly began to rise in the tunnel towards the office.

"Well," said Winona with a hint of a smug smirk playing at her mouth. "I'm not really just any student, now am I, Professor?"

Umbridge looked troubled at that, though she did her best to hide her reaction from Winona. Her smirk widened as they reached the landing and she reached out to knock on the door. A beat, then, "Enter."

Winona pushed open the door with easy familiarity, strolling into the room and automatically taking a seat at the desk like she did it every day – which, honestly, she might as well have. Dumbledore's cool blue eyes looked between her and Umbridge for a moment before he waved a hand in the direction of the tea set off to the side, which lifted into the air and began to drift towards them, the kettle already steaming.

"Miss Black, Professor Umbridge," he greeted them genially. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I ran into Miss…Black," Umbridge said the name with great caution, like it might grow claws and attack, "in the corridor on her way here. She says that she has issues with her course-load. I tried to dissuade her from bothering you, but she seemed quite stubborn about it."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his chin and stared at her, saying nothing, while Winona spooned some sugar into her teacup and stirred it noisily.

"I have to admit that I find it somewhat disturbing, Headmaster, that a single student should have so much authority as to know the password to your office," she continued in the wake of Dumbledore's unsettling silence.

"There are always exceptions," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Head Boy and Girl, for instance, are both kept apprised of my password, should I be needed in matters of urgency."

"And what, exactly, puts Miss Black in the same category as the Head Boy and Girl?" Umbridge asked shrilly. Winona calmly sipped her tea.

"I'm sure by now you're more than aware of Winona's particular sensitivities, Professor Umbridge," said Dumbledore, each word measured and weighed before he spoke it. "As you can imagine, it can leave her as something of a target to other students. I like to give her a safe space to come to should the others not be in a particularly…forgiving mood."

Umbridge was slowly turning the same shade as her hideous jumper.

"And furthermore, occasionally Winona will have a vision that will pertain to myself or a student at this school. It seems only logical to give her easy access to reach me should such a vision occur," he continued smoothly, hands still steepled, looking perfectly at ease.

Something about Umbridge's smile turned victorious. "You admit, then, that you frequently give Miss Black access to your office in order to discuss visions of a sensitive nature?" she sneered, eyes alight with a strange thrill, like a fox with its eyes on a fat, feathery chook.

Winona didn't care for it at all.

Dumbledore's responding stare was calm, not rising to her bait. "Winona will occasionally come to me with her worries, or for someone with whom to share her burdens," he admitted. "With no family of her own available to her, you can see how she would be in want of a kind ear."

It wasn't true, of course – Winona had about a hundred people she'd go to when she was in need of a kind ear, and her family wasn't unavailable, she just had to pretend they were. It was all terribly confusing, this web of necessary lies she was a part of.

Umbridge seemed to be searching for what to say next, but Dumbledore didn't give her the opportunity to figure it out, turning to Winona with raised brows. "There was something you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes sir," she said, perhaps a little too eager to play Umbridge like a fiddle. "I'm having a little trouble in my Arithmancy class, but with all the Charms work we're being given in preparation for NEWTs, well, I'm feeling really overwhelmed…"

Dumbledore nodded seriously, lifting a hand and waving it almost lazily. Across the room, the door to his office swung open with a creak. "You needn't concern yourself with these issues, Delores," the Headmaster said casually. "Winona just needs a little encouragement. Why don't you head down to the Great Hall and make sure the last of the students have packed up and headed for their dormitories?"

Umbridge clearly had no intention of leaving Winona and him alone to talk, but the Headmaster's eyes were hard and uncompromising, and she seemed to sense this was a battle not worth choosing.

"Very well," she tutted, chin tilted upwards with dignity. She straightened her revolting jumper and reaching up to check both pearl earrings were still in place. "In future, Miss Black, I wouldn't make it a habit to traverse the castle at such a late hour. Especially not for a…chat," she finished derisively, toad-like face scrunching in disgust before she turned on her heel and strode from the room like it were of her own volition.

The moment Umbridge was gone, Dumbledore waved his hand and the door shut after her with a resounding click. Winona gave a sigh of relief and, despite all of Dumbledore's faults, she couldn't deny it felt there was no safer place than at his side.

Dumbledore leant forwards, intent now that Umbridge was gone. "What's the matter?" he asked keenly, worry making the wrinkles on his ancient face all the more deep.

"Voldemort's breaking his followers out of Azkaban," she told him quickly.

His expression turned severe. "Tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No, now."

"Now?"

Winona said nothing, but Dumbledore was already leaping to his feet. He began ordering his paintings about, the first one to send word to the Order, then another to go spy through her twin portrait in the Daily Prophet's offices in Diagon Alley, where the news would no doubt already be circulating, and a final one to Kingsley at the Aurors' office.

Once that was done, he turned his attention back to Winona, who continued to drink her tea although it was tasteless on her tongue. "There's nothing that can be done?" he asked grimly.

"Nothing. Kingsley won't catch any of them."

"How many?" he demanded, pressing his weight onto the hands splayed against his desktop, electric eyes alight with purpose.

"Not sure," she admitted. "Maybe a dozen or so? A little less? But it's not the quantity here that I'm worried about."

He got her meaning immediately. "Who?"

"Dolohov, Rookwood… Bellatrix Lestrange," as she said the final name a shiver rattled down the length of her spine. She remembered the laughing she'd heard, bright and loud and full of the manic glee of an escaped nutcase. The mere thought that she was related to that madwoman made Winona feel sick, but while you couldn't choose who you shared blood with, you could choose your family.

And Bellatrix was no family of hers.

"They're the big names – the ones I'm most worried about. But any free Death Eater is a bad one, so I'd say you should put everyone on high alert."

Dumbledore was nodding, but she got the feeling her words were going in one ear and out the other. "I'll send Alastor, Tonks and Kingsley on a sweep, but I doubt there's much they can do," he said grimly, producing a self-inking quill and a piece of parchment with little more than a click of his fingers, beginning to write a hasty letter.

Winona sipped her tea and waited until he'd secured the letter to Fawkes' foot before murmuring something under his breath to the beautiful phoenix, which then disappeared in a flash of flame, there one moment and gone the next.

"There's more," Winona told Dumbledore, trying to tell herself that she wasn't betraying Harry by speaking up. Dumbledore stopped his furious pacing to face her properly. "Harry's put the clues together. He knows there's something that the Order's guarding in the Department of Mysteries. He knows that, whatever it is, Voldemort wants it. And he knows it has something to do with him."

Dumbledore's severe expression deepened. "And what did you tell him?"

"Nothing," Winona assured him, guilt thick and hot in her stomach, like a poorly brewed Potion sat to simmer in a dirty cauldron. "I lied to his face, Dumbledore. Told him I didn't know anything. And I swear to Merlin, if that lie ends up pushing him away from me, I won't be your bloody lapdog for so much as another moment."

Dumbledore's expression smoothed out, the way it always did when he didn't want someone to know what was on his mind. He didn't react to her threat, but his eyes did seem icier than they had a moment ago. "You did the right thing, Winona," he assured her.

Winona's scoff was laced with bitterness. "Yeah," she said skeptically. "That remains to be seen."


A/N: Hi guys! Thanks so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed this one. We're getting closer and closer to the end of the book, and learning of Sirius' fate. The sheer amount of messages I get begging me not to kill him is astounding; and I can't wait for you all to read what I've got planned!

It's gonna get wild.

Instead of a spotlight review this week, I wanted to give a shoutout to himbobolin on TikTok – they recently made a video recommending this story, and when I tell you I happy-screamed and danced around my library at just hearing someone say my username online…holy shit it made me happy. So thank you so so much for the shoutout, and I'm so incredibly honoured that you like my story, and thankyouthankyouthankyou for talking about it online and bringing in more readers. I'm beyond humbled. Thank you.

See you next week!