Monday came, and as soon as their final class of the day – Charms – was done, Winona shouldered her bag and waved a hasty goodbye to the twins.

"Where're you going?!" Fred called after her. She hadn't told them about Dumbledore's request, since the warlock himself had asked her not to. And thanks to the Vow, her days of defying Dumbledore were over.

"I've an errand to run!" she called back over her shoulder.

"An errand to run," she heard George mutter skeptically in her wake. "She's off to consort with Dumbledore, she is."

"Ugh, please don't say 'consort'," replied Fred with a shudder.

Winona smirked and slipped from the castle, making her way down the steep incline that held the path to Hagrid's Hut. The weather was eerie, a fog clinging close to the earth and making her clothes turn damp. It made everything dreamlike and hazy, and Winona had to try not to see it as foreboding – a warning of all the terrible things to come.

As promised, Dumbledore was waiting down at Hagrid's Hut. She expected to find Hagrid there with him, but Hagrid was nowhere in sight, and instead he was joined by an unexpected figure.

A centaur stood in the haze with Dumbledore. Easily taller than the Headmaster, his skin was the colour of almonds and his hair a shock of white. Over his shoulder a full bag was slung, and his exposed chest was a mottle of purple and black bruises, most in the shape of horse hooves.

Alarm bells were ringing in her head, but not the kind that made her worried for her safety. If Dumbledore was standing there so calmly, then she couldn't imagine she was in any danger. And there was something about this centaur – the way his shoulders were slumped in defeat and the bruises under his eyes were nearly as black as the ones decorating his chest – that made her feel sorry for him.

He looked like the world had chewed him up and spat him back out again. He kind of reminded her of Harry, in that regard, and it warmed her to him.

"Winona, I would like to introduce you to Firenze," said Dumbledore in lieu of a greeting. The centaur stepped forwards, his hooves squelching loudly in the mud, and offered her his hand.

Winona took it, his skin warm and calloused against hers. "Nice to meet you," she said with as much warmth as she could muster. She looked at Dumbledore searchingly, hoping he was going to elaborate, because for all her Sight, she had no idea who this centaur was or why Dumbledore was having her meet with him.

But before the Headmaster could speak, the centaur named Firenze reached for her face. With one hand he caught her chin in his fingers and tilted her pale face up towards him, and with his other hand he gently brushed the hair from her face. He peered into her eyes with an intensity which left her feeling uncomfortably bare.

"I See," he finally said after a silence that stretched on just long enough to become painful. Her chin was still pinched in his fingers, but it wasn't a tight grip. She could have broken away if she'd wanted to, but something about him made it hard to pull back.

"You…see?" she asked stiltedly, blinking at him in confusion. Her eyes darted to Dumbledore, but when the Headmaster held no answers in his stare, she flicked her attention back to Firenze. "Um," she said, eloquent as ever.

"We've Seen you in the stars," he continued as though the silence hadn't stretched for an eternity. "And I See it now. Your Sight is no small thing. You have the constellations in your eyes."

Winona simply stared at him, fathomless.

Firenze looked like he was going to smile, but he never did. He merely hovered at the precipice of happiness, never quite reaching it. "And you look like him," he finished with a definitive nod.

Winona frowned. "Who?"

He let go of her chin and she finally felt like she could breathe again. "Harry Potter."

It took Winona a moment to gather her wits. It felt like he'd cast some sort of spell over her, and she wondered if it wasn't some part of her magic, the very same thing that let her See, that was calling her to this centaur, as if it knew it had found another like her. "You know Harry?"

"Everyone knows Harry Potter," Firenze said matter-of-factly. Winona frowned. "We also met, briefly, roughly four years past."

It took her another moment to figure out what he was talking about. "Oh, the centaur who saved him from Voldemort, back in his first year," she said in realisation. She hadn't been there for that particular escapade, but she'd heard about it at length from Harry in the past. "That was you?"

Firenze nodded stoically.

"Er – thanks for saving him, by the way," she added – a tad awkward, because Firenze was about as expressive as a teapot.

Firenze simply inclined his head in silent answer. Winona turned to Dumbledore, hoping desperately that he'd interject and save her from shoving her foot down her throat. To her relief, he did.

"I've just spent the last few days convincing Firenze to accept a position at Hogwarts – as our new Divination teacher."

Winona's eyes went wide, and for a few moments she had no idea how to react. Finally she settled on a smile, and that smile quickly turned into a laugh. She quickly cut off the sound when she realised it might be offensive to the centaur between them. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I'm only laughing because I'm thinking about how much Umbridge is going to hate this."

Firenze arched a single brow. "Indeed."

"An added benefit of having Firenze agree to teach at Hogwarts is that he will be able to take on students for one-on-one lessons," Dumbledore continued.

Winona smothered a smirk. "You say 'students', but you just mean me, don't you?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. He suggested they make their way back up to the castle, but when they turned to leave Firenze asked them to wait a moment. He seemed to want a minute alone, so the two of them walked a ways ahead to wait. Looking furtively over her shoulder, Winona watched as the centaur knelt on the ground at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest and pressed his fingertips to the fresh soil there.

He was saying something, too low for Winona to make out, but something deep inside of her told her it was a goodbye. Then he stood upright, nodded his head once, and turned to follow them up the hill towards the castle that towered above them, like a crown atop a mountain king's head.

They waltzed into the courtyard just in time to find Umbridge publicly humiliating Trelawney, and the look on the old toad's face when she found out Dumbledore had hired a centaur to fill the divination professor's position was pure gold. Winona stood beside the centaur with a wide grin on her face, her eyes sparking with glee as Umbridge turned a truly brilliant shade of purple.

Dumbledore sent all the eager, leering students back into the Great Hall to finish dinner, then told Firenze in an undertone that he would escort him to his rooms. He turned to Winona before they left, telling her, "I'll owl you once we've found an appropriate day and time for your private lessons."

Winona nodded in agreement, and with something like satisfaction in his eyes, Dumbledore sauntered around a still-fuming Umbridge – who was apparently too lost in her ire to move from her statue-like position in the courtyard – and led Firenze around the few gawking students remaining.

Winona joined Fred and George at the Gryffindor table, where all anyone could talk about was the scene out in the courtyard and the brand new professor in the castle. "You knew!" said Parvati accusingly – she was a girl from Harry's year that Winona knew little and cared for even less.

"Yeah," she admitted freely, swiping a slice of still-warm bread from the tray and beginning to lather it with butter.

"Why didn't you stop Professor Trelawney from getting sacked?!" Lavender demanded, also in Harry's year, and just as unlikable as Parvati.

"Believe it or not, I only See people's decisions, I don't actually control them," she said without looking up from her food. The two of them were annoyed by Winona's cavalier attitude, but she didn't particularly care, laying a sausage on her bread and using her hands to eat it like a taco. They looked away in disgust and Winona focused in on Harry, Hermione and Ron's conversation.

They were reminiscing about that night with the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and Hermione was regaling them with facts about centaurs that she'd read in her endless backlog of books. Fred's hand drifted to her leg, and she caught him smirking as he trailed it upwards playfully.

She pushed him away and laughed, glancing up at the head table to find Umbridge's usual seat empty. It brought Winona great joy to know the High Inquisitor was probably off fuming in her office, writing a whiny letter to Fudge and thinking up ways to torture them all in recompense.

But she didn't care. Let the torture come. She would be kept smiling by the memory of the abject horror on Umbridge's face as Firenze had clopped his way into the courtyard. They may not have yet won the war, but this battle, at least, was theirs to count as a win.

Two nights later, it was arranged for Winona to have her first meeting with the new professor. After dinner, she was to make her way to the new divination classroom (on the first floor instead of up in Trelawney's attic – because Firenze couldn't possibly climb a ladder). The though twins had a whole slew of orders to fill and get ready to send by morning, Fred still insisted on walking her to her lesson.

"Are you nervous?" he asked as they walked, hands swinging in the space between them. It was a flagrant violation of Umbridge's recent Educational Decree – that boys and girls weren't permitted to be within six inches of each other – but that was half the fun.

"Not really," she shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be like any of Trelawney's lessons; reeking of incense and filled with bad tea."

"Well, I mean, he's a centaur," said Fred. "There's bound to be something new he can bring to the table."

Winona wasn't quite convinced – expecting the lesson to be as boring and as pointless as ever – but by the time they reached the classroom she found herself reconsidering.

It wasn't any old classroom, with desks and chairs and a blackboard. Instead, somebody had filled the room with a thicket not unlike that of the Forbidden Forest. The whole room was a bloom of green, and instead of stone, the floor was made from fresh soil and patches of healthy moss. Winona stared in surprise, hovering with Fred in the doorway. Their stupor was broken by a gentle voice carrying through the trees, "Come in, Winona Black."

Feeling unexpectedly wary, Winona turned to Fred. "Guess that's my cue."

"You'll do great," he assured her, squeezing her hand and kissing her on the cheek. "See you later."

"Love you," she murmured, half distracted by the situation she was walking into. Fred smiled, warm and a tiny bit amused, and nudged her gently in the direction of the forest before them.

The soil was soft under her feet as she padded her way into the room, and the classroom smelt of fresh, clean air and pine. She could tell the ceiling had the same charm on it as the one in the Great Hall, for instead of stone and wooden brackets, it looked an exact replica of the night sky. Cloudless and clear, the familiar constellations glimmered above her. It was a calming scene, reminding her of long nights spent up in secluded towers of the castle, sketching by starlight and munching on cookies from the kitchens.

Towards the centre of the room was a clearing; in it stood Firenze. He was staring up at the stars above, a wistful look about him, shoulders slumped and features drawn. She thought he looked sad, stood alone in the clearing, bruises still dotting his broad chest. The sight of them reminded Winona of her own mangled hand. Although the wounds had healed, the scars would remain.

I must always respect my betters.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she came to a stop in front of the centaur, who had yet to look away from the stars that made up the ceiling. He knew she was there, but still he ignored her, staring up into the universe above like it held all the answers to all the questions in the universe. And she knew enough from her studies that, to a centaur, it probably did.

Suddenly she wasn't so confident that this lesson was going to be anything so ordinary as her sessions with Trelawney.

Sensing she should wait for him to speak, Winona let her bag gently hit the moss beneath her feet, rolling her shoulder once the ever-present weight was gone. Still Firenze said nothing, so she took a seat on a nearby boulder and tried to stay patient as she waited.

When Firenze finally spoke, it was to say something most unexpected. "I cannot return to my home," he said solemnly.

Frowning, Winona looked away from the stars. He was looking at the forest now, his dark eyes unfathomable as he took in its natural beauty. "I'm sorry," she told him, because what else was there to say?

He tore his eyes from the trees to look at her, and she knew they were finally about to begin. "What is time, to you?" he asked, yet again managing to surprise her.

"Er, I'm not sure I understand the question."

"Just as no two beings share the same understanding of the world, no two beings See or experience time in the same way," he told her. The cadence of his deep voice was soothing, but his words made her curious. "As one gifted with the Sight, you are more sensitive to its ways than most."

Winona said nothing, finding herself frustratingly lost.

"Some describe time as a hallway, with many doors to be stepped through. Others see time as a piece of the sky, with faraway constellations to be examined and decoded." He looked away from the night sky once more to peer at her, cool stare pinning her in place. "What is time to you?"

She found she didn't have to reach far for the answer. "It's a river," she told him honestly. "When I have a vision, it's like I'm sinking into a river and the current is rushing past me, trapping me below the surface. Even though I can't feel my lungs, I know I can't breathe."

Firenze said nothing, gazing at her silently, and she felt the need to press on.

"It's rather scary, sometimes. The weight of the stuff time's made of – the water, I s'pose you could say – it presses around me. I have to fight and struggle to reach the surface, just so I can take a breath. Sometimes I worry the current might sweep me away altogether. And then I'll be lost to it for good."

The confession came unexpectedly, but despite barely knowing this centaur from Adam, there was something about his calm demeanour and patient eyes that made it easy to talk. He didn't stare at her like he thought she was crazy, but rather like he understood what she was talking about, even when nobody else she knew ever did.

"You believe that in succumbing to this current of time, you will lose yourself to it," he said. It wasn't a question.

Winona swallowed around the lump that appeared in her throat. "Yeah."

"Are you certain of this?"

"Of what?"

"That you will be lost," he said again, eyes as fathomless as ever. "Are you certain you will not simply…be taken to wherever it is you need to go?"

Winona stared at back him wordlessly. "I don't…"

Firenze tilted his head, peering at her evenly. It was an odd sensation, to be looked at as though this centaur understood her – understood her Sight – in a way nobody else could. "What would happen if you stopped fighting it, I wonder?" he asked, simple and matter-of-fact, like a philosophy professor posing a harmless question to his class, and not suggesting something that went against everything Winona had ever done to cope in this world.

"You want me to let the current sweep me under?" she asked, just to be sure she was understanding him correctly. Firenze didn't nod, but his even stare was answer enough. "I – I can't breathe while I'm under there. It's literally like I'm submerged in water."

"Your mind is," he said patiently. "Your body, however, is perfectly safe on dry land."

She stared at him, brow pinched together as she fought to come to terms with what he was suggesting. After a long minute passed with nothing said, Firenze made another expression that wasn't quite a smile and walked over to a small boulder across the clearing, on which was balanced an array of herbs and incense that she hadn't noticed until now.

"Headmaster Dumbledore tells me that you've had some experience in meditation and bringing forth the current of time," he said, picking up a small bundle of dried sage and what looked like freshly harvested mallowsweet. Winona said nothing, watching warily as he made his way back towards her. "Today we shall be attempting much the same."

"Only you expect me to…to dive into the river, and let myself drown."

Firenze's stare remained calm, even as her tone became sharp. "I expect nothing," he assured her. "These lessons are not about me. They are about you. I cannot make you do anything. It is your decision, Winona Black. I am simply here to act as a tether to the now, should it be needed."

It was nothing at all like she'd expected, and Winona stared at him an extra moment before climbing off the boulder she was using as a chair. She sat in the middle of the clearing, the damp of the moss cool even through her clothes. Crossing her legs and laying her hands on her knees, she looked up at the centaur expectantly.

He took that as his cue to start burning the herbs. He flicked his fingertips over the end of the sage and mallowsweet, and they caught alight immediately. It didn't take long for their scent to permeate through the clearing. Somehow the light in the room melted away until everything was shadowed and indistinct, even despite the stars which continued to shimmer and glow high above.

Winona rolled her shoulders and forced herself to close her eyes. Her pulse was loud in her ears; she couldn't deny she was afraid. But Firenze had made a good point. It did feel like she was drowning when the current of time washed over her, but the fact was that she wasn't. She was on dry land, and just because she couldn't feel the air in her lungs, that didn't mean it wasn't still there.

Her Sight was something that had always been with her, long before she even knew what it was, or how to control it. As she went through her breathing exercises to try and slow the thunderous racing of her heart, Winona thought hard about the nature of her talent.

The Sight was a part of her, just as Harry's Parseltongue was a part of him, or Tonks' Metamorphmagus abilities were a part of her. It was just an extension of their magic, a skill unique to them. She wasn't ashamed of her Sight, but it did make her feel apart from the others, like there was something different about her, something she needed to stifle and hide.

And maybe that attitude wasn't doing her any good. What would happen, she wondered, if she did just as Firenze suggested? If she dove into that river and let the current drag her where it may? She'd spent so many years fighting the feeling, trying to keep herself afloat lest she drown beneath the flow. But maybe part of her ability was that she could breathe under the water. Maybe this whole time, she'd been fighting something that was supposed to be natural – easy.

Maybe instead of living in fear, she could finally take charge and just learn how to fucking swim.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, breathing deep and slow and letting the burning herbs fill her head, heady and potent as they were. The tangible world around her began to melt away, and she could hear the rushing of a river from somewhere both nearby and worlds away. When the water finally came cresting over her, it took everything she had not to fight against the feeling. But she was stubborn and determined, and with only a sliver of fear in her chest, she let herself be pulled down beneath the current.

Winona had never been to the sea, never seen the ocean with her own two eyes. But she couldn't help but liken the experience of submitting to time being more like a rip in the sea. With startling clarity, she realised that if she fought against it, the whole thing seemed impossible. There was no escape, at least not by force, and she wondered how it had never occurred to her to simply just…let go.

Now she did; she stopped fighting and let the rip current pull her along. And once she had, the strain in her muscles went away and the fight in her blood calmed, until she was simply floating in the open water, a thousand, million possibilities surrounding her like grains of sand floating in the salty water.

Suddenly there was no direction to go in – by giving up completely, it seemed there was nothing the aether wanted to show her. It had been her decision to wade into the water, and now that she had arrived, it was as if the water was asking, "Well? What do you want to know?"

She sensed that she didn't have unlimited Sight. She couldn't ask who would win the next Quidditch World Cup and expect to get an accurate, coherent answer. Because the ocean didn't speak, you see. It didn't have a voice. All it had were images and feelings and a will of its own. She was the one who had to translate it; and she'd never been particularly good with languages.

A thought occurred to her. A memory, really, of a vision from not so long ago.

In her mind's eye she saw her dad getting hit by a bolt of green magic, watched him collapse backwards into an eerie archway and disappear from this world forever. Images began to flash before her, feelings and sounds sweeping over her like waves in the sea. High-pitched, cackling laughter, the kind that sent shivers of ice down one's spine. Somebody was screaming – someone familiar. Harry? Lupin's hazel eyes, brimming with tears as he held her struggling cousin back from the archway. A flash of bushy hair and a face full of freckles – Hermione and Ron, running for their lives.

"When?"

She thought maybe she'd asked it aloud, with the part of herself in the present, back in that forest classroom with Firenze. It felt a million miles away, now, and there was no way to be certain.

The ocean didn't answer, of course, because the ocean couldn't talk. But she felt things, flashes of bright pain and gnawing desperation, and Winona thought maybe it was answering, if not in words, then in fleeting nudges.

"How do I stop it?"

Again, no clear answers, but possibilities, a whole web of them like threads she could pull. Decisions people hadn't yet made caused things to stay blurry, but they were on a collision course now. Something had been set into motion. No matter what happened, this was where they were heading; to this dark room with an archway – the place her father would take his final breath.

Unless she did something to stop it.

It must have been a short eternity before Winona came out of the water. It was sudden – she hadn't expressly thought that she wanted to leave it. Hadn't made any move to burst free of the waves. But one moment she was submerged and tugging at the threads of possibility, looking for the weak spots in the flow of time, and the next she was back in the classroom with Firenze.

She wasn't panting for breath. In fact, she felt calm, like her mediation session had been just that. The biggest surprise, however, was the glaring lack of a sketchbook in her lap. Her hands were still resting, palm-up, on her knees, and her nails were intact. There wasn't any evidence of a drawing in sight.

"I didn't draw anything?" she asked nobody in particular, staring down at her clean, empty hands in surprise.

There was movement from the corner of her eye and she turned her head to see Firenze look away from the night sky. He seemed patient as ever, and she wondered exactly how long she'd been out of it.

"I've never not needed to draw something before," she murmured, because she realised now that she wanted him to give her an answer. Some explanation that could make this make sense again, that could make this reality feel less like a dreamscape.

"The drawings have always been a tangible translation of your visions," Firenze said calmly. Winona felt herself breathe a sigh of relief when he spoke, making the world feel a little more real than it had just a moment ago. "Once you master control of your Sight, they shouldn't be as necessary as they once were."

He didn't ask her what she'd Seen, and for that she was grateful. This vision was for her and her alone. Because one thing was certain to her now; there was going to be an attempt on Sirius' life in that shadowed room only a few short months – weeks? – from now. That was without doubt.

But it could be stopped. She could still save him. And now she knew exactly how to do it.

Here's the thing about time; it was easier to stop the bad things from happening when you knew exactly when and where they were going to happen. By changing things now, by bringing attention to that terrible future, the current would shift and Sirius would be in danger somewhere else, maybe somewhere she couldn't reach him.

She'd never felt more grateful for her ability since learning it existed. Sometimes it was embarrassing, and these days it painted an uncomfortable target on her back, big enough for every witch, wizard, and Death Eater the world over to see. But she could live with that if it meant she got to change things. If it meant she got to save her dad.

Firenze seemed to sense she was done with her lesson for the day, and he let her go with a polite if not slightly distant farewell. Winona waved distractedly, scooping up her bag and turning to leave. Something stopped her, however, and she paused at the tree-line, turning slowly back towards the centaur, who still gazed up at the stars like they held the answers.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

His unfathomable eyes flicked back down to her. Winona met his stare without hesitation.

"I learned more today than I have in over six years of lessons with Professor Trelawney," she confessed. "I think I understand myself now in a way I haven't ever before, and…I'm grateful."

He cocked his head to the side, considering her a long moment, before he dipped his head in a respectful bow. "We shall meet at the same time every week," was all he said before his eyes drifted back up to the boundless ceiling.

Unable to stem her curiosity, Winona asked, "What do you see, when you look at the stars?"

Some part of her was surprised when he answered, eyes never leaving the constellations above. "I see a time of great war nearly upon us," he told her, so quiet she nearly missed it.

A pang went through her body, but she kept her expression clear. She wet her dry lips, insides twisting and tight. "And do you see how it all ends?"

His eyes trailed down to meet hers, blank as could be, giving her no insight into what was going on behind them. "Do you?"

Winona took her leave, because there were only so many battles she could think about at once. And the next one was coming quicker than she'd have liked.


The months all faded and blurred together, and all of them were working harder than ever, either for the upcoming NEWTs or, in Fred and George's case, their booming business. Winona could see how antsy they were getting, stuck in the school, conducting their business through owl-orders only. They were itching to get out into the real world and set up their shop. She couldn't blame them, and some part of her had to wonder what was keeping them at Hogwarts.

"It isn't me, is it?" she asked the twins one evening after dinner while she reluctantly scanned a boring passage in her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook and the two of them were cooking up yet another batch of Fainting Fancies, their current stock all but gone. They were popular around this time of year, particularly with the fifth years', who only got a chance to relax these days when they were unconscious.

"Is what you?" George asked without looking up from the potion he was carefully stirring clockwise.

"The reason the two of you haven't just left yet," she said, propping her elbows up on Fred's bed and resting her chin on her folded fists. Fred looked up from the ledger her was updating, eyebrows raised up high.

Neither answered for a moment, glancing at one another before they looked back at her. "Well, it's not just you," Fred finally spoke, but for someone who was usually such a fantastic liar, it wasn't particularly convincing. "We're not flat-out, like we'd be at the shop. And it's giving us time to perfect our recipes, and work out the kinks in our supply system, and…"

"Don't let me keep you here," she said firmly. Fred stopped his yammering to stare at her, surprised. George finally looked up, similarly blindsided. "I care about you both too much to let you waste time neglecting homework and babysitting me when you could be setting up your shop already."

Fred frowned, but George rolled his eyes. "It isn't just you, y'know," he informed her. "There's other people we're reluctant to leave, too."

"Oh, you mean Katie," she said, wagging her eyebrows for effect.

But George didn't rise to the bait. "And Lee, and the girls, and Ron and Ginny. We like being here, where we can keep an eye out for you all. You know, with Umbridge roaming the halls, it's not as safe as it once was," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Sure, because it was so much safer before Umbridge, with the Dementors and the Basilisks and the Death Eaters disguised as professors," she replied dryly.

George reached out to flick her on the nose, and she recoiled with a face thrown in his direction. "We're not leaving," said Fred suddenly, and he said it like a declaration. Like a promise. "Not yet."

He sounded so sure of himself that Winona knew it would be pointless to argue. Besides, she was essentially a selfish creature, and the longer she got to have them annoying her between – and sometimes even during – classes was time she would cherish with all her heart.

That week, a few days before their scheduled DA meeting, Winona approached Harry with an idea. "I think you should teach us the Patronus Charm," she told him, sitting down next to him in the common room. He'd been reluctantly filling out his weekly astronomy chart and was all too eager to push it away once the opportunity presented itself.

"Er, I dunno, Win – it's pretty advanced…"

"You learned it when you were thirteen," she pointed out. And he knew she had a point there, raising his eyebrows and nodding in agreement. "Besides, if I ever See you getting attacked by another Dementor, I wanna make sure I can protect you. Plus, I'm curious to know what my Patronus will be."

Harry still hesitated. "It takes a lot of work."

Winona stared at him, unrelenting, and he caved.

"Well, I s'pose it's for the best that everyone learns. I mean, with the Dementors now under Voldemort's control…" A nearby first year squeaked and went deathly pale. Winona and Harry ignored her and focused on their conversation. "All right. Next meeting."

Victorious, Winona pecked him on the cheek in thanks. He made a face and scrubbed at his cheek like she'd left residue behind, but otherwise he looked pleased with their decision. The next meeting came, and Harry announced to everyone that they would be starting to work on producing a Patronus.

"Blimey, really?" asked Seamus from Harry's year, who had been brought along by Dean after finally giving up the opinion that Harry was an attention-seeking nutter. "That's advanced stuff, that is."

"I think it's something you need to know, and since Umbridge isn't planning on teaching us…" Harry trailed off.

"I'll bet mine's something dangerous, like a dragon," said Fred once Harry had explained the basic theory, demonstrated, and then sent them off on their own to practise.

"Charlie's is a dragon," Winona pointed out idly, twirling her wand around nimble fingers and searching her brain for a memory worthy of a Patronus. "You probably won't both be dragons."

Fred wilted but just as quickly puffed up again. "Maybe I'm a wildcat."

"You'll probably be a praying mantis," sniped George. "You're lanky enough for it."

Fred stared back, perplexed. "We're identical," he muttered, as if he didn't understand the world as he had before. Winona laughed and nudged George playfully before kissing Fred on the cheek to soothe his confusion and wandering a few paces away to work on her own Patronus.

She thought about a lot of things that happened in the past, trying to scrounge up a memory that would be powerful enough to create something as awesome as a Patronus. Memories danced behind her eyes like a film.

The day she'd left her foster house and come to Hogwarts. Realising the twins were her friends. Finding out Harry was her cousin. Finding out her dad was alive, and meeting him for the first time in that courtyard. The first time she kissed Fred. The first time they'd been together, messy and hilarious and freeing as it was. Being in Grimmauld Place with everyone she held most dear, and the feeling of safety and belongingness that rickety old deathtrap gave her.

But in the end it was none of these things she chose as her memory. Instead it was only a handful of weeks ago, when she'd found out the twins wanted to leave, and Fred had explained why they hadn't mentioned it sooner.

It wasn't even exactly the words he'd said, or the look in his eyes as he'd told her he loved her. It was the possibilities that moment had given her. She'd realised, rather suddenly, that there was a world outside of this castle. There was a future to look towards. There was an infinite amount of maybes, of possibilities, of routes they could take and things they could do and decisions they could make – and all of it would be done together, as partners.

She thought of that moment, that assuredness he'd had that they would have that perfect future, if not soon, then one day. She realised, with a stab of irony, that she didn't consider the past or the present to be where she was most content; it was in the endless possibilities of the future that her true happiness laid.

So, with all those infinite maybes swirling in her head, Winona lifted her wand and whispered, "Expecto Patronum."

It didn't work right away, but she practised over and over, holding that perfect feeling of freedom in her heart. She couldn't get it that first lesson, but they came back again, and then again, and eventually a shape began to form in the ethereal silver mist spilling from the tip of her wand.

It was larger than she'd expected it to be, more square than anything, almost hulking. It stood about the same height as her, and she stared at it in warring fascination and dread.

For a while she wasn't sure what it was, but it finally became clear on the very last meeting they had before Easter break. "It's a bear!" exclaimed Fred before she could form the words herself.

He was hovering over her left shoulder, gaping at the large brown bear that was her Patronus, apparently just as shocked as she was. "Huh," said Harry as he came to a stop beside her, eyeing the bear in surprise. "That's not what I expected."

"Oh, honestly, Harry," tutted Hermione from nearby, a silvery otter swimming circles around her head of bushy curls. "Do you know any animal more suited to Winona? She's the human embodiment of a mama bear."

"Not to mention all the fights she gets into," piped George, his own Patronus forming in the mist at the tip of his wand.

The twins were unsurprised to find they shared a Patronus – a sleek, mischievous magpie. It made sense to Winona. Magpies were, after all, known as the talkative thieves of the animal kingdom. She couldn't imagine a form more fitting.

"The bird and the bear," said Fred in her ear, both staring as his silvery magpie danced around her silvery brown bear's head. Her bear made a halfhearted swipe at his bird, but it was more playful than it was irritated, and Winona watched them play together with a full heart and a sea of possibilities behind her eyes.

Then the door to the Room of Requirement burst open and a familiar House Elf all but drowning under a set of woollen hats scampered directly up to Harry's side. Abruptly the lighthearted atmosphere in the room disappeared like a candle snuffed out, and Winona's beautiful brown bear blew away into nothing like a trail of smoke in the breeze.

She hadn't seen – she hadn't known. She'd been too focused on her own life – on helping Fred and George with the shop and fretting about when they would leave and she had her NEWTs coming up which she was struggling to get ready for and her newfound abilities to explore and all this worry about getting to Sirius in time to save him from his grave fate – all of it had distracted her.

She hadn't Seen, because she hadn't been looking.

Whatever Dobby was saying to Harry across the room, Winona couldn't hear it, but the look of horror on her cousin's face told her everything she needed to know. She shoved past Padma, Parvati and Lavender, uncaring when the latter nearly tumbled to the floor in surprise.

"Harry!" she cried, heart racing in her chest, threatening to choke her with its panic. "I'm sorry!"

Harry looked up from Dobby, green eyes wide and his face terribly pale. He caught her stare and she shook her head once. He looked vaguely like he might be sick – because it didn't take a genius to work out what Umbridge was going to do to anyone caught in this room. "What are you waiting for?" he bellowed to the frozen crowd. "RUN!"

All hell broke loose.

Winona lunged for her cousin, but the room was already in such disarray that it was impossible to reach him. He was lost in the pandemonium. There was a small group of fourth-years – Luna, Ginny and a few others in their year – near to Winona. The youngest in the room, they looked undeniably frightened (except maybe for Ginny, who was scowling and stood tall, like she were preparing to take on Umbridge with her bare hands), and Winona knew that Harry could take care of himself. He was smart, he'd get out of there, find somewhere safe and hole up until the danger had passed.

So, with great reluctance, Winona slipped through a gap in the frenzied crowd and gripped the terrified fourth-years by the shoulders. "Follow me! Don't stop for anyone!" she ordered them in a shout. Ginny nodded, her expression set as she caught Luna's hand and the five of them quickly followed Winona out of the room.

There were Slytherins prowling the halls, and Winona didn't stop to think before she sent a Biting Jinx at the nearest of them. They collapsed to the floor, gripping their feet as their shoes chewed on their toes like they were Jelly Slugs.

It took some manoeuvring and more than a little bit of forbidden hallway magic to get the five fourth-years out of the corridors. The closest place was the library, and Winona pulled them to a stop at the entrance.

"Don't pant for breath," she ordered them in a whisper. "Act natural, laugh and joke, and if anyone asks, you've been here looking for Potions textbooks the whole time."

One of the girls, a short blonde with a Hufflepuff tie knotted around her throat, squeaked, looking absolutely terrified. Ginny grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the face. "We'll be okay, Alice. Do as Winnie says."

The girl called Alice sniffled and nodded her head, and Ginny ushered them hastily into the library. "You're not coming?" she asked as Winona turned to leave. "The halls aren't safe."

Winona shook her head. "I've got to find Harry."

"Not the twins?"

"They can look after themselves."

"And Harry can't?"

Ginny had her there, but there wasn't any time to sit around arguing the point. "Keep them safe," she whispered urgently. "We'll probably get caught out no matter what, but do what you can."

Ginny nodded once and swept into the library without looking back. Winona steadied her shoulders and began to make her way back to the Room of Requirement. She walked evenly, as if she were in no rush, and when Pansy Parkinson stepped out in front of her path, she regarded the eager-to-please Slytherin girl with a bored expression.

"Ha, caught red-handed," sang Parkinson smugly.

Winona stared back at her, unperturbed. "What are you talking about, exactly?" she asked, arching a single brow.

Parkinson faltered – apparently she'd been expecting Winona to curl into a ball and begin to cry. "You're running from your scrawny little cousin's forbidden meeting," she said, snide and desperate – two things that didn't mesh well at all.

"Actually, I'm on my way to a private lesson with Professor Firenze," said Winona calmly. "I meet with him once a week, you see. You can ask him yourself."

Parkinson scowled like she smelt something bad. "Nice try, Andrews."

Winona struggled not to bristle. "My name's Black, and you know it."

"You're not worthy of that name," she spat. Winona couldn't help the stab of white-hot fury in her gut, and it showed on her face. Victory curled at Parkinson's thin mouth, and she held up her wand in warning.

Without blinking, Winona's wand arm snapped out and she disarmed the Slytherin with barely a muttered Expelliarmus. Parkinson made a high-pitched noise, not unlike a guinea pig being dropped on its head, and Winona arched a cold brow. "Let me pass, or you won't ever be able to stomach looking in the mirror again."

Parkinson's square jaw fell open. "You're threatening me?"

Winona took an intimidating step forwards. "Oh, I haven't even begun to threaten you."

Parkinson looked furious enough to forget magic altogether and leap on Winona like a rabid animal, but before Winona got the pleasure of a fistfight another three figures appeared in the doorway, their wands held out in warning.

It was Malfoy and Goyle, along with another very unwelcome face. Jeremiah Nott had a blank expression on his face, his wand levelled between Winona's eyes. She darted her eyes between them, searching for a Jinx powerful enough to take all three of them out at once – four, now that Parkinson had used the moment of surprise to pluck her wand from the floor.

"It's cute you think you can take all four of us, but we both know otherwise," said Nott, voice as smooth and as slimy as ever. "Put the wand down."

Gritting her teeth against a slew of very unkind curses, Winona reluctantly speared her wand into the knot of her hair and held up her hands in surrender. "Nice try, Andrews," snarled Parkinson, shuffling into Malfoy's side like she'd had the upper hand all along.

"You're pathetic," said Winona, the words lazily, an insult that needed no effort to be said.

Heat splashed across the Slytherin's pallid complexion, and she was just opening her mouth to deliver what would surely be an unpleasant curse when Malfoy caught her wand hand and forcefully lowered it. "No," he said, dark satisfaction in his eyes. They were a stormy grey, so similar to hers, and the reminder that they shared blood was so sickening that she outwardly gagged. Malfoy eyed her like he despised it much the same. "Professor Umbridge wants her in one piece."

"I'll take her," offered Nott. Winona held back another retch as his long fingers curled around her bicep and he began to drag her away from the others. The last thing she wanted in this world was to be alone with Nott ever again, but there was little she could do about it now, pulled down the corridor to their right and deeper into the castle in the direction of Umbridge's office.

The moment they were alone, Winona wrenched her arm out of his grip. "Don't touch me," she spat the words like venom. He watched with amusement, like she was little more than entertainment to him – to the world.

"I seem to recall you quite liking it when I touched you," he sneered, looking all too pleased with himself. Winona wanted to spit at his feet, but instead she balled her hands into fists and turned her back on him, marching furiously in the direction of Umbridge's office.

Nott sauntered on after her, lazy and free, like they had all the time in the world.

"Curious, how you didn't See this coming," he commented as they walked. "Been too caught up in your little love affair with Weasley to pay any attention, I suppose."

She turned her head just enough to assess him coolly. "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Nott?"

He scoffed. "Hardly. Actually, I think you're perfect for one another. Never were two more infamous families of blood traitors."

"I'd choose a blood traitor over a Death Eater any day."

Nott just smiled again, like she amused him. She was a rat in a maze, and he held all the cheese. She hated that about him – hated everything about him, really. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

"So you're Umbridge's lackey, now," she said, because she couldn't stand his smug silence. It made her skin crawl and her scalp itch. She didn't want his mind on her. She wanted to control the conversation.

"The secret to success, Black, is to always pick the winning team," he said with easy confidence.

Winona scoffed. "Too bad you chose wrong."

He smiled again and they fell back into silence. She walked, fuming, and he smiled, content in the power positions they'd found themselves in. His wand remained aimed at her back, but that was smart. Without a wand, there was little stopping her from breaking his nose – if not to get free, then simply because she'd get satisfaction from seeing him cry.

They reached Umbridge's office and she realised with a soft sigh of disappointment that she wasn't the only one to have been apprehended by Umbridge's minions. Ron and Neville had been caught, along with Katie, Lee, Cho Chang, and a small handful of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs she didn't personally know.

Winona was relieved to leave Nott's side, making a beeline for Katie and Lee. She reached for them, gripping Katie's hand and nudging Lee in greeting.

Katie squeezed her hand back tightly, a stubborn set to her jaw and a bruise blooming like a rose above her sharp brow. "They hurt you?" Winona asked, so furious that she didn't bother to whisper.

"Tripping Jinx," said Lee, looking just as thunderous. "Hit her head. They'll say it was an accident."

Winona sent a bitter look at Nott, who had gone to his brother's side, the two of them speaking in low tones that didn't carry. They, Crabb, Zabini and Devlin watched over the crowd "Of course they bloody will," she muttered, already dreaming up ways to get back at them for it. She leaned around Katie, who was trembling a little bit through her anger. Ron met Winona's eyes. "Harry?" she asked him quickly, this time taking care to keep quiet.

"I dunno," Ron whispered. "I lost sight of him in the panic."

"Your brothers?"

Ron only shrugged. Winona held tight to Katie's hand and gnawed anxiously at her lip. She wasn't worried about herself – Umbridge would punish them, sure, but she doubted it would be any worse than another set of lines, and honestly, she was starting to get used to the pain. Instead, she worried about Harry and the twins, whether they were safe and exactly where the blame for this whole thing was going to fall.

"George will be okay, right?" Katie asked softly.

Winona looked at Katie now and saw not her friend and expert Quidditch player and whizz at Herbology. Instead she saw a girl worried about her boyfriend, a girl who was scared that the guy she loved was in danger. And Winona couldn't help but empathise.

"George can look after himself," she assured Katie. "I feel bad for anyone who tries to attack he and Fred. They're the ones you should worry about."

Katie smiled, small and a little bit shy, and just when Winona was going to ask something that would make Hermione turn red, the youngest Nott brother stepped forwards and flashed his wand in their direction. "No talking," he snapped, eyes just a little bit wild.

"We're not prisoners," Winona snapped back. "And you're not our warden. So if you want to keep your tongue, you'll mind your own damn business."

Nott appeared stunned she'd dared retort, but he recovered quickly and just as he was inhaling to let her have it, the door burst open and a terrible figure in pink stormed into the room as if someone was chasing her.

Umbridge was scowling like someone had pissed in her cereal, but at the sight of them all stood aimlessly in her office she came to an abrupt stop, a small noise of surprise escaping her wrinkled lips. "What on earth are you all doing in here?" she demanded hotly.

The previously-smug Slytherins all shifted where they stood. Zabini stepped forwards, apparently the bravest of them all. "These are all the stragglers we managed to find from Potter's meeting, Professor," he said, jerking his head towards their hoard, stood in the back of the room glaring back at him hatefully. "We thought you'd want to punish them yourself."

But to Winona's surprise, instead of leaping at the chance, Umbridge just looked irritated. "I'm much too busy to deal with any of you right now," she snapped, jerking a pudgy finger at the doorway, a silent order to leave.

The Slytherins looked perplexed while the rest of them had to bite back smirks. "But, Professor-"

"Didn't you hear me?" she barked, stabbing her finger at the door again. "Out!"

She looked frazzled, Winona realised. Her usually immaculate outfit was rumpled and mussed, and the ugly pink bow in her hair sat crooked. Something had happened, but if that something could ruffle even Delores Umbridge's feathers, then Winona wasn't sure she even wanted to know what it was.

Downtrodden, the Slytherins loped from the room while the others practically skipped. But the relief didn't last, as before she slammed her office door shut Umbridge leant out of the doorway and snarled, "You'll all be receiving owls with the details of your punishments in the next few days."

Then she was gone, her hoarse voice ringing in the corridor. The Slytherins looked smug again, and Winona simply flipped them off as Lee slung an easy arm around her and Katie's shoulders and led them down the corridor, away from Umbridge's serpentine lackeys. Nott's eyes danced with satisfaction, but Winona only looked away. He wasn't worth her frustration.

They were smart enough to know to go directly back to their dorms. Ron, Winona and Katie were relieved to find the twins stood at the hearth with Hermione, and for Winona it was like the rest of the room disappeared. She crossed the room in an instant, all but bowling Fred and George over as she threw her arms around them and squeezed.

"Blimey, where in the name of Merlin's saggy left nut have you lot been?" Fred demanded as George wriggled out of her hold and went to Katie, who gladly accepted his embrace. Fred's arms circled Winona's waist and she pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the heart thundering beneath his ribcage. "George's been a right mess."

"Right," Winona said against his clavicle. "George's been a mess."

One of his hands came up to gently cradle her head. "You know him; he's a sensitive bloke."

She laughed, then pressed up onto her toes to kiss him. Pulling away before she could get as carried away as she'd like, Winona pulled him into a proper hug and used her leverage to scan the room over his broad shoulder. She frowned when she couldn't spy a set of familiar green eyes and famous lightning bolt scar.

Pulling back from Fred, Winona looked over at Hermione, who was awkwardly examining the mantle over the fireplace in an effort to give them a moment's privacy. "Where's Harry?" she asked her, fear tightening her gut.

Hermione grimaced, and it didn't take a Seer to now that what came next wouldn't be pleasant. "Malfoy caught him. He passed Harry off to Umbridge, who marched him straight up to Dumbledore," she revealed.

"Well, that's all right then," said Fred. "Dumbledore's not gonna punish Harry, is he? He hates Umbridge as much as the rest of us do. Merlin, probably even more, considering it's his school she's messing with."

But neither of the girls were comforted. As a sound like rushing water appeared in her ears, Winona's vision grew unfocused. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost hear a conversation. Familiar voices, threading together into music.

It was happening nearby… Harry was working under Dumbledore's orders… He wasn't going to go quietly…

"Win?" Fred's warm hand rubbed circles over her shoulder and Winona blinked back to herself, looking up at the others with a pinch in her brow. "Where'd you go?"

"Two floors away," she replied without missing a beat. Hermione blinked. "We have a really big problem."

When Harry reappeared, looking tired and a little bit shellshocked, Winona was the first to greet him. He all but stumbled his way into the common room, tripping through the portrait hole, and she caught him before he could hit the floor. He looked up at her, eyes a little bit distant – probably not unlike herself during a vision. Just another way they were alike.

"Harry?" she asked carefully, because she didn't like the way he stared at her without really seeing her.

"Dumbledore's gone," he murmured, almost as if repeating a mantra. For an instant terror gripped Winona. Had her vision from all those years ago come true early? Had Dumbledore fallen to his death tonight?

But Harry didn't seem grief-stricken, or scarred in any way. He just seemed stunned. "He left?" she asked tentatively, worried she might not like the answer. "Did Fudge arrest him?"

Harry blinked back to himself at the question. "How did you Fudge was-?" Her stare was blank and impatient, and he shook himself. "Right, stupid question. Er – Fudge tried to have him arrested, but Dumbledore left before he could."

Before Harry could say any more, the common room became wise to the fact that he was back, and they were promptly overrun by anxious members of the DA, desperate to know what had happened, and if this meant the end of the DA for good.

Winona decided to leave Harry to the sharks and retreated to where the twins, Katie and Lee were sat on the plush rug across the room, warming themselves by the hearth. Fred opened his arms and Winona wasn't shy about sitting squarely on his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her body and she leant back against his firm chest, soaking him in.

The five of them stayed down by the fire for most of the night, waiting for the rest of the House to finally leave Harry alone and head up to bed. Finally, as the hour hand neared twelve, the only people in the room were their own little group and the Golden Trio themselves.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded once they were alone, the three of them collapsing onto the couch. Winona and her friends turned to face them, and with a sigh Harry relayed the full story – including details he'd have never shared with the rest of Gryffindor House.

"They tried to arrest Dumbledore?" asked Lee once Harry was done, gobsmacked. "That's like…like trying to arrest Merlin himself. What was Fudge thinking?"

"Don't you see, Fudge is threatened by Dumbledore," said Hermione with her usual, maddening patience. "He thinks Dumbledore's trying to steal his job."

"Insecure nutter," muttered Fred as he tiredly nosed at the crown of Winona's head. Ron shot them a disgusted look that went blithely ignored, and Winona threaded her fingers with Fred's and let her eyes fall shut.

"At this point, Fudge is interested in maintaining his hold on power and little else. He'll do anything if it means keeping his job safe," Hermione continued, a scowl in her voice.

"But Dumbledore's not after his job," said Harry impatiently.

Winona felt Hermione shrug. "He's a paranoid old fool," she said simply, and left it at that.

"What does this mean for the DA?" Katie was the one to ask, her voice small and soft in the otherwise silent common room – save for the soothing crackle of the fire beyond the hearth.

Harry sighed deeply and didn't answer. Winona opened her eyes, finding her cousin staring forlornly into his lap. Hermione was the one to speak up. "I'd say it's over for the foreseeable future," she said quietly. Disappointment was tangible amongst the eight of them, but still Hermione continued. "Umbridge knows about the Room of Requirement, and now with Dumbledore gone… It's too dangerous to keep going, no matter how much we might like to."

Winona was disappointed to find she agreed. If Umbridge was unbearable before, she'd be a bloodhound now. Any hint of defiance would be like signing their own expulsion papers.

"At least with Dumbledore gone, old Minnie's going to step in as Headmistress," said George, attempting to find the silver lining in this whole thing.

Winona winced. "Er, not quite," she said, and any lightness in the air evaporated into nothing. "You'll wake to the news tomorrow. Umbridge is being appointed Headmistress."

A lengthy, weighty silence. "At least you're getting better with the whole Seer thing," Katie finally said, but it was the wrong thing to say.

Harry's expression went tight, and Winona let go of Fred to reach across and take her cousin's hand. "I'm sorry," she told him fervently. "I was so wrapped up in my own…" She realised it was a lame excuse.

Harry only sighed. "I've told you before, Winnie, you don't need to apologise for what you don't See," he said, although it was clear he very much wished she had Seen this happening. She didn't bother saying that Umbridge was bound to find out anyway, whether they'd actually been in the room or not. Harry didn't need anything else weighing him down tonight.

"We should all get some sleep," she told the group. "I have a feeling we're going to need it."

Tired enough to agree without complaint, they bid one another goodnight and dispersed to their dorms. Winona hugged Harry swiftly, scooping him up before he could complain. It probably said a lot about how exhausted he was that he clung to her extra tight before puling away and sloping up the stairs after Ron and Lee.

But when Winona turned to kiss Fred goodnight, she was surprised to find he and George sat on the couch, a set of rare, matching solemn looks on their faces. They weren't heading up to bed, and Winona knew without a word that they wanted to speak with her – down here, where nobody was likely to overhear.

Winona padded back to them and sank into the spot between them. They sat in silence for a long minute. She was the first to break the quiet, her sighing voice little more than a whisper. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

"You really are getting better at this," said George lightly.

She attempted a smile that fell terribly flat. "No," she disagreed. "I just know you too well."

Fred took her hand, threading their fingers together, and with her other one Winona reached for George. They sat there like that, holding hands in peaceful quiet, for another few minutes. The fire still blazed and crackled, its warmth in great juxtaposition to the cold in her bones.

"When?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Not just yet," said Fred, his voice gentle. "Umbridge has to pay for what she's done. We can't go until we're sure she has."

"So we've decided to unleash our full power for mayhem upon her," added George.

Winona's smile was wan. "I almost feel sorry for her."

Fred grinned roguishly. "No you don't."

She laughed. "Nah, I don't."

She didn't ask logistics; she thought maybe it was better she didn't know. She held their hands tightly, staring into the fire like Firenze stared at his stars, as if it might grow a voice and speak back to answer all her impossible questions.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you," she whispered.

"Hey," said Fred, giving her hand a squeeze. "None of that. It's only a few months. Which is nothing in the grand scheme of things."

She was reminded of all those infinite possibilities that allowed her to cast her Patronus, and she squeezed his hand tighter, resting her temple on his shoulder and breathing him in. "We've got a future to look forwards to."

She felt him smile into her hair. "Exactly."

They wanted to stay up late planning, so Winona left them be and reluctantly wandered up to her own dorm. With Umbridge on the warpath, she didn't want to risk getting caught in the boys' dorms. If she was going to survive at Hogwarts without Fred and George, it would probably be best to just keep her head down and get through it quickly.

The less risks she took, the better. In the coming years, she was going to be taking enough to last a lifetime, anyway.


A/N: Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's one I'm particularly proud of, as far as the writing goes. I've been super, super bust these last few weeks with a bunch of personal projects and family business, which is why this chapter's coming to you a little late. Haven't had much time to write fanfic, but I'm throwing myself into it these next few days, so expect another chapter soon!

We're getting closer to the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and hearing all your theories for it has been so much fun. Thanks to those of you who send me messages, both here and on insta, I've loved chatting to you about the story and where you think/would like for it to go.

Oh, and by the way, happy Valentines Day! (If you choose to celebrate).

Spotlight review goes to: blueberryetc – thanks for leaving a review, and for enjoying my story! I honestly feel like the quality only gets better as it goes on, and looking back at those first chapters, I cringe a little bit. But I'm flattered you loved it from the beginning. I hope you enjoyed this one, and everything I have planned for the future!