A/N: Warning for smut in the chapter ahead. It's not quite as graphic as usual, but still, read ahead with caution!
The next day Fred and George were barely seen, off putting their devious plans into action. In their absence, Winona spent most of her time with Katie and Lee. She figured it was something she was going to have to get used to – even if it did feel vaguely like chopping off a necessary limb.
It was during that day's Arithmancy class that there was a sharp rap at the classroom door, and at the sound of it Winona's insides turned to stone. Whoever it was, they were there for her. And nothing good was going to come from it.
Keep your head down, she reminded herself as the door swung open and Filch shuffled inside, looking entirely too pleased for anyone's comfort. "The Headmistress requests Winona Black be excused from class, Professor," Filch croaked, eyes watering like a hungry dog's as they locked onto Winona with predatory intent. "She wishes to speak with her urgently."
Professor Vector cast a look to Winona, and whatever she saw on her student's face mustn't have been pretty, because she winced reluctantly and hesitated in an obvious way. Professor Vector was a stern, no-nonsense teacher, but in that moment she was unexpectedly soft, eyes apologetic and full of concern.
"She said it was urgent, Professor," Filch repeated, a hint of ice entering his voice. Winona was curious what might happen if Vector refused – would Filch attempt an attack? The old caretaker was a squib, so she knew he wouldn't get very far. But it would be entertaining nonetheless.
Keep your head down.
"The Headmistress doesn't like to be kept waiting," sneered Filch, as close to a threat as he dared.
Professor Vector hesitated again, torn between her obligation to comply and her urge to protect Winona as a student. In the end, Winona took the impossible choice out of her hands. "It's okay, Professor," she said, climbing to her feet and calmly shouldering her bag. "I'll have that essay done by Friday."
Vector still looked reluctant to send Winona off to Umbridge, but everyone knew nobody had the power to say no. Not anymore. Not with Dumbledore missing in action. The Arithmancy professor sighed and waved Winona out, and Winona did her best to ignore everyone's pitying stares as she left the room.
Filch muttered and rambled as they made their way through the castle to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom that was doubling as the Headmistress' office (seeing as how Dumbledore's office had magically sealed itself shut, and nobody – not even Winona – could enter). Winona mostly ignored him, but he barely noticed, too content with the sound of his own voice as he spewed on about all the wonderful promises Umbridge had made so far.
He knocked on the door, delivered her to Umbridge, then backed out of the room bent over in a ridiculous bow. Winona swallowed back her snort of laughter, dropping her bag to the floor and obediently taking a seat at the Headmistress' desk.
With Filch gone, the door sealed after him, Winona was left alone with the smear of ugly pink that was Umbridge. The Headmistress smiled sweetly, all sugar and venom.
"Hello, dear," she began in the most saccharine voice Winona had ever heard. Her short eyelashes fluttered, and Winona bit down on her lip to hide a grimace. "What might I be able to get you to drink?" Umbridge simpered, as though they were a pair of old friends.
"Nothing – thank you," she tacked on at the last second, because it seemed like the polite thing to say, and Umbridge was the type of witch to prioritise propriety above all else.
Keep your head down, Winona.
At her refusal, Umbridge's smile turned knife-like. "I really do insist. I'll get you anything you like. Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"
Winona bit back a sneer. "Tea would be lovely," she said through teeth gritted so hard that her jaw began to ache.
Umbridge smiled, all pretty venom once more, and went about making their tea. "I thought we'd have a little chat after everything that occurred last night," she said with her back to Winona. "There are certain things I believe we need to discuss, and seeing as you're a smart, competent young girl, I thought you would appreciate approaching this like adults, instead of anything more…unpleasant."
Keep your head down, Winona reminded herself for the umpteenth time that day.
"That was…kind of you," she choked, the words like sandpaper on the inside of her throat.
If forcing a drink upon her wasn't enough of a red flag, the way Umbridge hid the cup from Winona to add the sugar sent alarm bells ringing through her head. Only an idiot would drink a single thing this monster of a witch offered them. Winona was a lot of things, but an idiot was not one of them.
She took the tea from Umbridge and watched as the Headmistress took a seat in her pink chair. As she got settled, Winona glanced into her tea. It looked like normal tea, and when she took a subtle sniff there wasn't any obvious scent to it – which meant any poison was unlikely.
Winona might not have exactly been a whizz when it came to potions, but there were certain things Snape had taught her over the years that even she found difficult to forget. Such as: the only potion that was both colourless and odourless was Veritaserum.
With the teacup so close to her mouth, Umbridge smiled widely, seeming to assume she'd already taken a sip. Winona wasn't about to correct her.
"Now, my first question is rather simple. Where is Sirius Black?" she asked, leaning forwards with stars in her eyes, so sure her plan was working. But this woman wouldn't know a true scheme if it slapped her across the face. Kind of like Winona was dreaming of doing in that very instant.
"I haven't any idea," said Winona without any hesitation.
Umbridge's confident beam faltered. "Have some more tea," she ordered Winona tightly. When Winona arched a brow, she reined in her snarling command, giving an innocent, toothy little smile. "Really, dear, I insist. I understand how hard it can be to talk about your scourge of a father. The tea will help."
And just like that, suddenly keeping her head down wasn't as much of a priority to Winona as it had been before. She set the teacup down on the saucer with enough force to hear the high-pitched crack of china. Some of the spiked tea spilled out over her hand, but Winona didn't care.
"Fudge is giving you permission to drug students, now?" she asked, voice like the Great Lake in the dead of winter – perfectly flat and cold enough to cost you a toe or two.
Umbridge blinked once, twice, then smiled calmly. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about, dear," she said innocently. Winona wouldn't have believed her even if she were deaf and blind. It might have been smarter to just pretend to drink the tea and play dumb, but Winona had never been very good at making smart decisions. Only impulsive ones.
"My father isn't a scourge," she snapped, jaw aching with the strain to keep from cursing the bitch where she sat. Plenty of wonderful curses came to mind: boils and baldness and backwards knees. Or she could draw inspiration from Ron and have her vomiting up slugs. The great thing about magic was that the possibilities really were endless. "And I wouldn't tell you where he was born," she said in a hiss, "much less where he is."
Umbridge's smile could have sliced a watermelon down the centre, it was so sharp. "Your father is a convicted felon, Miss Black. He's a murderer. I can assure you that aiding and abetting a criminal, no matter how he might be related to you, is no noble thing. Keep going down this path, and you're only going to end up just like him."
Winona cocked her head innocently to the side. "Convicted of a crime I didn't commit and sentenced to twelve years in Azkaban without so much as a fair trial?"
Winona heard Umbridge's teeth clack together and smiled smugly. Umbridge looked away, glancing to a framed photograph of Fudge on her desk (pathetic much?) and seemed to take a moment to calm herself. Winona was used to that; she was something of a natural when it came to riling people up.
"Poor dear," Umbridge finally tutted, like what she saw before her was truly pitiful. She peered at Winona with insincere sorrow. "Brainwashed by your own father."
"I'm not brainwashed-" Winona abruptly cut off her own shout. Umbridge's grin had widened when she'd begun to raise her voice. This was exactly what Umbridge wanted. If Winona lost her cool now – if she said the wrong thing, it would give Umbridge the perfect excuse to expel her. And she needed to stay at Hogwarts – if for no other reason than to save her father from the grim future he was heading towards.
Because she knew now, after her lesson with Firenze, that staying was the only way to ensure her dad survived the next few weeks.
Winona sat back in her chair, calmly folding her hands in her lap. Umbridge was put out that she wasn't going to make any move to attack. It became clear to Winona in that moment that they weren't just fighting a war in the traditional sense. Wars weren't only won on the battlefield.
She realised – with a flush of icy dread – that to win this thing, she was going to have to become the thing she hated most: a politician.
Changing angles like a bird changed directions on the wind, Winona took a deep, steadying breath and said, "Fudge wants me to work for him."
The statement was so unexpected, it took Umbridge a few heartbeats to recover from her shock. She narrowed her eyes, sensing a trap but unsure what it could possibly be. Until that moment, Winona hadn't been sure Umbridge knew the full extent of Fudge's visit to her the year before. Now though, staring into the Headmistress' dark, beady eyes, she knew the truth.
Umbridge was very much aware of just how valuable Winona was to the current Minister for Magic, and the Ministry itself. But whether that made Winona any safer was yet to be determined.
"That's correct," Umbridge said, weighing each word carefully before she spoke it. "Are you reconsidering his offer, dear?" she asked, and Winona bit back a smile at the way her voice trembled just a little, giving her away.
And she didn't answer the question. "I just think it would do well to keep in mind, Headmistress Umbridge, that trying to drug me and threatening to throw me in Azkaban isn't exactly what I'd call a good way to win me over," she said instead.
Umbridge's eyes narrowed into slits while Winona's pleasant tone of voice and simpering attitude never so much as faltered. "What game are you playing, Miss Black?" Umbridge demanded, beginning to lose her cool.
"I believe you call it politics," Winona replied sweetly. Umbridge gripped her own teacup tightly enough that her knuckles went white with the strain. Something occurred to Winona – it was a wild gamble, and an even more dangerous one, but once the idea flickered to life like a candle in her head, it was difficult to snuff out. "It occurs to me, suddenly, that my loyalty is worth rather a great deal to the Minister."
Umbridge could have been chiselled from ice, she sat so frozen before her.
"I have to wonder if it might even be enough to…oh, I don't know…exonerate a man wrongly imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit?"
Umbridge looked rather white in the face. "Miss Black," she said after a long minute in which she had to take a deep chug of tea to get ahold of herself. "Am I correct in believing you are trying to…bargain yourself…for your father's freedom?"
When she said it like that it sounded like a truly terrible idea – but she'd been friends with the twins long enough to know that sometimes the worst ideas ended up working out the best in the end.
"Of course not," she said in a voice like honeyed fruit. "That would be preposterous, to expect the Ministry to exonerate a man simply to gain my favour. But then, maybe something more simple… In fact, I'm so glad you asked me to have tea with you, Professor, because it gives me a rather interesting idea. A few drops of Veritaserum, and even the Minister himself would spill his darkest secrets…"
Umbridge went rigid. "Miss Black-"
"I suppose what I'm suggesting, then, is a fair trial for a man who never got one," she said, chin tilted upwards as if to prove she was unafraid, even as she tucked her hands between her thighs to hide the way they trembled. "Should the Minister agree to that… Well, I'd certainly owe him a great deal, now wouldn't I?"
Umbridge still looked pale, and she'd long since stopped trying to keep smiling. Winona fixed an innocent look on her face, because if she was going to do this, she had to truly commit.
Umbridge's eyes darted to the framed photo of Fudge and back to Winona again, watery with disbelief. "I believe I understand what you're trying to say, Miss Black," she finally said, voice croaky, just like the great toad she resembled.
"Lovely," said Winona with layers upon layers of false cheer. "Then I'm very glad to have had this discussion with you."
Without waiting to be dismissed, Winona stood to her feet and left the room. She walked calmly away from the office, down a nearby hall, then down another and another. For once she had no idea where in the castle she was. Everything looked identical, completely unfamiliar to her hazy vision.
Eventually, as far away from the new Headmistress' office as she could get, Winona collapsed onto a dusty bench in some forgotten courtyard and finally allowed herself to breathe.
She sucked in deep gulps of air, gripping the stone bench tight, a phantom aching in her left hand brought on by stress and the memory of the last time she'd been locked in a room with that woman. Head throbbing, she pulled the wand from her top-knot and let her hair fall down over her shoulders, hoping to ease the pain in her skull.
It had been stupid and brilliant and risky and liberating. It had been a wild, last-ditch attempt to gain some semblance of control over her life when it felt, suddenly, as if she had none. Her realisation in there had been right – that much she knew.
That beautiful future she saw with Fred began to drift from her Sight. Further and further it was pushed, hazy white covering it like the mist across the lake on an early winter's day. She wanted that life for them, but there was too much to do first.
She'd been silly, to think that when she left Hogwarts everything would fall into place and they'd just be effortlessly happy. She needed to stop being fanciful and start being realistic. This war would still last for years to come, and while before she'd imagined it being fought on a battlefield, she thought now that that was true, only the battlefield looked different to how she'd been imagining it all this time.
Once she'd seen it as a large courtyard with the light on one side and the dark on the other, wands held out and ready to fight. But now she saw it differently. Wasn't it on this battlefield the Order was already doing battle? They had spies everywhere; Hagrid with the giants, Kingsley in the Ministry, Snape amongst the Death Eaters.
She'd never considered herself a spy – and maybe that was because she never would be. But certainly her future was coming to look like something similar.
Could she do it? Could she sell her soul to the Ministry in return for her father's freedom? She knew she would in a heartbeat, if it were up to her, but could it actually, logistically be done? She wasn't so sure. So many unknowns, so many threads to pull at and examine. With this decision of hers, a million possibilities fanned out in front of her, waiting for her to dive amongst their depths and inspect for herself.
But it wouldn't just be about buying her dad's freedom – that was the brilliance of this half-baked plan she'd come up with on the fly. Clearing her dad's name was the perfect cover. It made her seem as though she were giving in, reluctantly handing over her freedom to the Ministry for something valuable in return.
Was it dangerous? Undeniably.
Was her family going to be happy about it? Absolutely not.
But would Dumbledore be pleased? Without a shadow of a doubt.
BOOM!
The floor shook and trembled. Winona gasped and gripped the bench she was sat on as it shuddered beneath her. Leaning out the window, she glanced up at the sky to find the sun past its halfway point in the sky. It was after lunch – she'd been AWOL for over two hours now. She didn't doubt her friends were worried.
As she stood to her feet, she realised her face was wet with tears. Pausing in the shadow of an archway, Winona scrubbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her school robes. She knew why she was crying, even if she hadn't noticed she was doing it at first.
This new path she'd set herself on pushed back that beautiful future she'd been marvelling over in days passed. She would still get there (maybe, if they somehow managed to survive this clusterfuck of a situation they were in as a society) but not for a long time. They said things would get worse before they got better, but Winona hadn't ever felt a cliché quite so deep in her soul before.
She took a moment to mourn the delay of that happiness, to simply feel the sorrow over what wouldn't be. Fred wouldn't understand – and not because he couldn't, but simply because she wouldn't be able to explain it to him. Not right away. And the realisation of that hurt more than anything else.
To fight one battle, she had to start another. And this one had the power to break her in a way that would ruin her forever, should she lose.
The castle shuddered again, another deafening bang echoing throughout its corridors, and the sound of it brought a tiny, tired smile to Winona's lips. The twins were at it again, and she would savour this time with them, fleeting though it may be.
The commotion turned out to be because the twins had set off their entire stock of fireworks in the entrance hall. Shimmering dragons swam in circles above their heads and rockets buzzed throughout the room. And they weren't just content with the entrance hall. They floated free through open doors and windows until the entire school was overrun by sparklers and crackling and mayhem.
Winona had to go straight to Care of Magical Creatures. Fred wasn't there, probably too busy off with George, planning the next phase of what was surely a multi-layered scheme to turn the castle into their own personal playground for havoc.
When Winona finally did see the twins, it was after dinner and they were busy in the common room, taking orders from over-excited Gryffindors who were all enamoured by their products after the demonstration earlier that day.
"They were wonderful fireworks," said Hermione happily – much to everyone's surprise.
"Thanks," said George, looking taken aback but pleased – it was certainly high praise to hear that from miss goody-two-shoes herself. If they could impress Hermione, well, then there was hope for anyone. "Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs – Winnie just finished the packaging the other week, so we were all set to start selling, only thing is, we used our whole stock today; we're going to have to start again from scratch now."
"It was worth it, though," added Fred with a proud grin. "If you want to add your name to the waiting list, Hermione, it's five Galleons for your Basic Blaze box and twenty for the Deflagration Deluxe…"
Hermione politely turned them down and wandered back over to where Harry and Ron were sat at an otherwise empty corner table. Winona's attention was on Fred, as it had been from the moment she'd caught sight of him. Fred was too busy taking orders from the younger Gryffindors to notice her laser-like focus, but luckily for him, George wasn't quite so oblivious.
"I'll take over from here, mate," he said, bumping Fred out of the way and snatching the notebook he held from his hands in one smooth movement.
"What? No, it's okay, I've got it," Fred protested.
George silenced him with a look, then jerked his head in Winona's direction. Fred caught sight of the heat in her eyes and swiftly changed gears.
"On second thought, you have better handwriting than me anyway."
George rolled his eyes and didn't bother to respond. Winona took the opportunity to catch Fred's hand and drag him towards the dorms.
Lee let out a loud catcall as they hurried past where he was sat with Alicia, Angelina and Katie, but they ignored him with ease.
The moment the door was shut and locked behind them, Winona pounced on Fred like she needed him to breathe. He let out a small oof of surprise, catching her before they both collapsed. Winona snogged him within an inch of his life, already working on tugging his shirt out from where it was tucked into his trousers.
"Huh," he mused when she pulled back long enough for them both to breathe, "fireworks really do it for you, don't they?"
But for the first time in a long time, she wasn't in the mood to laugh. She just wanted to feel him – under her, over her, against her, inside her. When she kissed him with no laughter on her lips, Fred seemed to finally understand what she needed; what this whole thing was about.
Her fingers threaded into his fiery hair as she gripped him for traction, climbing up his lanky body like a tree. Fred was forced to lean his weight against the poster of his bed to help support her, but neither really noticed. Winona's fingers left his hair, moving instead to his shirt, which she finally succeeded in pulling up and over his head.
Chest bare, she began to kiss her way down the long column of his throat. He panted into her hair as her hands made short work of his belt buckle. "Win," he huffed as she tore the belt from its loops and cast it aside. "Are you…ah," he cut off with a gasp as her tongue circled his nipple and her hand palmed at him through his trousers. "Win," he tried again.
She stopped her ruthless ministrations to peer up at him from under her lashes. "Please," she begged him, because she couldn't think of anything she needed more in that moment than him.
His lust-hazy eyes cleared some, just enough for him to peer down at her in worry. "Win," he said, a small crease appearing between his brows. "Is something wrong?"
She swallowed thickly. "You're leaving."
He sighed, winding his arms securely around her waist and tugging her against the hard plains of him. "Not tonight. Not even tomorrow," he whispered into her hair.
"But soon."
He sighed again, nuzzling softly into the crown of her head. "Yeah," he agreed, because it was all there was to say.
Then, before unpleasant emotion could overwhelm them, Fred grabbed the hem of her jumper and tugged it up over her head in one smooth move. Without the fire lit the air was cold against her exposed skin; but Fred kept her warm, tugging her against him again and ducking low enough to nose at the hollow of her throat, his fingertips tracing lines around the delicate straps of her bra.
"I love you," she whispered, shutting her eyes tight, horrified by the way they began to sting.
Fred kissed her again, turning them smoothly until she was tipping backwards onto the covers of his made bed. He lowered himself over her and she wasted no time in wrapping her leg around his hips, pulling him to her like a stubborn magnet, not wanting to be without him for a moment longer than she had to.
She wasn't lying – she did want this because he was leaving soon, but it wasn't the whole truth. She wanted this because it felt like the last slice of peace they were going to have for the remainder of this war. They were sheltered at Hogwarts, safe as could be (well, if they didn't take Umbridge into account, that is). It was like they were in their own little pocket universe, where nothing dangerous or evil could touch them.
But they were hurtling with breathtaking speed towards the edge of that universe; a bubble close to popping. Fred thought graduation would come and their life together would start. He didn't know the awful idea she'd had, and that she'd already – thoughtlessly – put into motion. He didn't know that she'd postponed their forever by years.
And in that moment, she needed him to remind her why she was doing it at all, even if he wasn't aware he was reminding her of anything. She needed him to show her how much he loved her, a token to take into the coming summer and beyond.
Joined together on Fred's bed, a place that had been their sanctuary for so long now, Winona mewled against his throat. His hands gripped her hips with enough force to leave a delicate lacework of bruising behind, but she didn't mind. She just held onto him tighter, letting him drive into her with everything he had, pushing them both closer and closer towards their release.
And when it finally came she felt a hot tear escape her eye, trailing down the length of her temple.
Winona wanted to stay there forever, hot and sticky with sweat, utterly exhausted as she lay in the cradle of Fred's arms. Once he'd recovered from his own release, he noticed the tear tracks on her face and gently wiped them away with his thumb.
"Winnie, you're scaring me," he whispered, cradling her jaw, which fit into his palm like a puzzle piece.
"I just love you," she told him, because it was true. "And I don't want you to leave."
"We only have just over a month until you graduate. Then we'll be together," he said it so simply, like it were a fact of life. It only made Winona's tears come faster.
Fred gathered her in his arms, holding her tight to him. She could feel his concern, his worry about why she was such a mess, but she couldn't tell him the truth. Not now; not yet.
The truth would come in time. For now she just wanted them to enjoy today; because it was very nearly all they had.
It was the first day of Easter break when Harry approached her at lunch. She was in the middle of a playful debate with Lee over which Sugar Quill flavour was best when her cousin appeared over her shoulder, a weary look on his face that instantly had her on alert.
"Can we talk?"
She swallowed her mouthful before asking, "Is this a conversation we can have here, or do you wanna go for a walk?"
Harry hesitated only a moment. "The weather's nice…"
She nodded once, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. "I'll see you later," she told Fred, who was halfway through a letter to their gunpowder supplier so they could get a start on replenishing their Whizz-Bang stock before the summer rush.
He looked up from his task with a lazy smile and she was helpless but to kiss him. It was brief and chaste, but somehow it still ruffled feathers.
"I think you've forgotten another Educational Decree, Black," sniped Malfoy from across the aisle at the Slytherin table. "Boys and girls aren't permitted to be within six inches of each other. I'll be taking ten points for that one."
"You're the one watching us kiss, you pervert," Winona called in reply. His pale cheeks went pink as the nearby students laughed at his expense. Then, just to be a dick, she kissed Fred deeply, uncaring when Malfoy squawked like he was personally offended and took another ten points off.
"Gryffindor's going to come in last next term if you keep doing that," said Fred once she'd pulled back, but he was unmistakeably amused.
"With Umbridge's band of bloody snitches running about, Gryffindor's going to come in last whether I snog you or not," she deadpanned. "And if we're losing anyway, might as well do it snogging the daylights out of you."
Fred smirked, eyes glittering with warmth, and with a final peck she left the Great Hall with Harry, who looked somewhat stunned by the display he'd just been witness to.
"Sorry," she laughed quietly. "We get carried away sometimes."
Harry shook his head. "It's okay," he told her. "It's nice to see you happy."
It was sweet of him to say, and Winona grinned as she shined her apple on the fabric of her old, paint-stained Rolling Stones teeshirt before taking a bite. Harry seemed in no hurry to get to whatever it was he needed to say, so they walked in easy quiet for a long few minutes, winding their way down towards the lake, beginning to circle it at a leisurely pace.
"Are you sad the twins are leaving?" he asked out of nowhere.
"Of course I am," she said. "But I know it's for the best. Besides, only eight or so weeks and I'll be leaving, too. And then I can see them as often as I like."
It wasn't strictly the truth – or, if it was, then it was a beautified version of it. But Winona couldn't tell anyone her haphazard, half-cocked plans involving ministry of magic espionage and all but selling her soul to the devil. She couldn't even tell Harry; not yet, at least.
"It's not going to be the same," said Harry quietly. "Next year, I mean. With you gone."
Winona smiled, nudging him gently with her shoulder. "You'll get used to it."
But he shook his head. "I don't think I will."
They walked in silence for another few minutes. The air was growing warmer with every passing day as spring arrived in full force, but even so, Scotland was still Scotland and there was a nip in the air that couldn't be denied. For awhile Winona thought they were aimlessly wandering, but soon enough she realised that wasn't the case at all. Harry had a specific destination in mind.
When they arrived at a large tree near to the edge of the lake. It looked just the same as any of the other trees along the damp, rocky bank, but as she watched Harry stare at it, she got the feeling there was something important about it. Something that made ghosts dance in her cousin's emerald eyes.
"Snape won't be teaching me Occlumency anymore," he said suddenly, still staring at the tree like it held all the answers to questions she didn't know.
Winona's heart lurched. "What happened?"
Harry took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering her. He began softly, telling her how Snape would withdraw his memories and store them in a Pensieve before each session. He told her how angry he'd been the night before, and how reckless he'd felt as Snape insulted him and stalked away, leaving the Pensieve unprotected and glittering with forbidden knowledge.
"Harry," said Winona, shutting her eyes in exasperation. "Tell me you didn't."
"I thought maybe it would tell me what I want to know. Give me the answers that nobody will." Winona said nothing, tipping her head back against the tree they'd sat beneath and hoping to Merlin this wasn't going to end in tragedy. "I didn't learn anything about the Order," said Harry suddenly, and she was so surprised she opened her eyes and peered at him shrewdly.
"You didn't?"
"Turns out, that wasn't what Snape was trying to hide."
He told her about the scene he'd witnessed in the Pensieve: young Snape being targeted and humiliated without provocation by the Marauders (or, more specifically, James and Sirius, while Pettigrew laughed and Remus pretended he was blind to it all) and how Lily had defended Snape, fighting with James and glaring at him with hatred in her eyes.
Winona saw that this, above all else, unsettled Harry. She thought she understood why.
He'd idolised his parents. Everyone in the wizarding world (Snape notwithstanding) had jumped over themselves to tell him how great they'd both been, and how in love they'd been with each other. But now Harry had learned the lesson that every child was eventually forced to discover: his parents were only human. Realistically flawed and stupidly human.
"I saw Jessica, too," he added quietly after a brief lull in which they were both silent. Winona looked at him in surprise. He smiled, but the expression was hardly convincing, more of a grimace than anything else. "She sat with Remus. Told my dad to 'shut up for once in his life and put the poor bastard down'."
A laugh tore unexpectedly from Winona's throat. Harry smiled too, chuckling throatily, and for a minute the warmth of the sunshine and the clean freshness of the air was overwhelming. But then the laughter faded and they were left cold and stifled again, thinking that some twenty years ago, their parents and aunts and uncles had sat in this exact spot, living and breathing and thinking, just as the two of them were, now.
"How could they hate each other so much one day, and end up married the next?" Harry asked after the silence had lasted long enough to start turning sour. Winona turned away from where she'd been staring at the glasslike surface of the lake, finding her cousin drawn and pensive, a familiar furrow in his brow.
"Love's a complicated thing, Harry," she told him softly. "Sometimes the line between love and hate can get blurry."
"You've never hated Fred."
"No, I haven't," she agreed. "But when I was with Jeremiah Nott… It wasn't a real relationship, but still, things got complicated. I hated him one minute and wanted to be with him next. Love isn't logical, Harry. It's just pure emotion."
Harry shook his head. "You should have seen the way she was looking at him… It was like she loathed him."
"And yet they made you," she smiled softly, reaching over to grasp her cousin's hand. "Someone like you couldn't have been made out of hate, Harry. You were made from love. And it was that love which saved you all those years ago. They loved each other almost as much as they loved you."
Her words seemed to make Harry feel at least a little bit better, and Winona squeezed his hand twice before letting go and leaning back against the smooth bark of the tree behind her. He still seemed troubled, however, and when she pressed him about it, he admitted that seeing Sirius and James be so cruel to a young Severus Snape – whose only crime, according to James, had been to exist – had left him feeling shaken.
"We all do stupid things when we're young," she reminded him quietly. "Just because they were cruel to someone sometimes, that doesn't mean they weren't still wonderful people."
Harry didn't appear to be listening. "I always thought my dad was just this…perfect Gryffindor. Always right, always kind and fair. But seeing him like that – he reminded me of the Slytherins," he said, the word heavy with derision.
"He was only a kid, Harry," she reminded him again. "He was your age. Besides, you can't expect anyone to be perfect. Especially not your heroes."
She didn't like his troubled frown. It made her want to go back and fix what he'd seen – to flit back through the pages of history and slap her uncle and father upside the head to knock some sense back into them, like she sometimes did the twins. But the future had always been her domain; never the past.
She found herself wanting to change the subject, and when she cast her mind for something to talk about, one thing floated to the forefront of her mind. She realised she was in a rather unique position, in that there was something she knew about the future that she was free to share with Harry. The Unbreakable Vow she'd made to Dumbledore kept her from confessing any Order secrets to her cousin, but this new future that she'd Seen – that she'd created – wasn't Order business at all. Nobody knew about it but her. She could tell Harry now, before Dumbledore caught wind of it and forbade her from telling him. It was the perfect loophole.
"I have to tell you something," she said suddenly. Harry looked away from the leaf he was idly pulling apart, glancing up at her in surprise. Apparently her tone of voice told him this wasn't just any ordinary confession. "I haven't told anyone yet, and it's important to me that you're the first."
Harry frowned, then went a striking white. "You're not pregnant," he said, eyes wide like she had him at wand point.
Winona blanched, horrorstruck. "What in Godric's name…? Of course I'm not bloody pregnant," she hissed, slapping her cousin on the shoulder. Harry flinched and rubbed feeling back into his arm, looking particularly relieved.
"That's good then," he said warily.
"Why would you think I was pregnant?" she demanded, her cheeks set aflame.
His cheeks had gone pink, too. "Well, I mean, you and Fred…"
He didn't seem to want to continue the thought, which was just fine by her. "Bloody hell," she muttered. "I don't even want to tell you the real news now."
Harry's solemn, uncomfortable expression melted into a smile. "Come on," he pressed eagerly.
Rolling her eyes, Winona took a deep breath and gently told him the truth. "I think I might have found a way to exonerate Sirius."
"Exonerate him, as in…?"
"Clear him of all twelve counts of murder and free him from his spot atop the Ministry's Undesirables list," she said, making an effort to sound casual, to disguise the mingling hope and terror in her voice. "He'd be a free man."
Harry stared at her, his emerald eyes wide. "How?"
She winced. "Well, that's the bad news." Harry looked unamused, and she decided to just rip off the bandaid. "It occurred to me the other day, when Umbridge was interrogating me about Sirius' whereabouts, that I have a…unique leverage over the Ministry of Magic. I have something they desperately want."
"Which is?"
When she smiled, it was utterly without humour. "Me."
Harry still didn't seem to understand, so she elaborated.
"Fudge wants me to work for the Ministry, as their High Seer," she told him. He looked confused again, and so she added, "It's an ancient position within the Ministry. The Seers of old would work for them, scanning the future and bringing predictions and prophecies to the Minister's attention. It's basically a glorified servant's position – but apparently the pay's really good, so I guess I've got that going for me."
Harry was horrorstruck. "You're going to work for the Ministry?"
"At this point, it's only an idea," she hurried to assure him, then reconsidered. "Although, I did sort of already make the offer to Umbridge, and I'm sure she's passed it along to Fudge by now."
"Winona."
"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision," she said defensively. "And look, it's not like I'm selling my soul. Harry, think about it. In return for my 'loyalty'," she took the time to put air quotes around the word, assuring him that was exactly what it would be – a farce, "I'd be able to set Sirius free. He wouldn't be stuck in Grimmauld Place the rest of his life, slowly driven mad by Kreacher and the portrait of my awful old grandmother."
He still looked unconvinced. "Winnie, he's not going to like this. You know how dangerous things are for you. The price on your head alone-"
"I'm graduating in a matter of weeks," she reminded him calmly. "Hogwarts won't be here to keep me safe anymore, and I'm not going to just cower in Grimmauld Place for the next however many years. I'm capable of contributing more to this world than wasting away in my dad's sitting room, searching the future for everyone else's benefit. I'm not a pawn, Harry. I'm a rook."
Harry frowned. "A rook?"
"Or maybe a knight. I dunno, I'm no good at chess. Point is, I'm not going to stay hidden away when I know I can help. When I can actually do some good in this world."
"What good can you do from under Fudge's thumb?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Isn't it obvious? I can spy."
Her cousin was hardly convinced. "Winnie, you're not a spy," he said with a great deal of tired patience, like a parent telling their young child that no, they couldn't be a dinosaur when they grew up; it simply wasn't possible.
She sat back, a tad offended. "I could be a spy."
"Sirius won't go for it, anyway," he said, not bothering to argue the point. "He'd rather stay locked in Buckbeak's bedroom the rest of his life than let you put your neck on the line just for the chance to free him."
"Well, Sirius isn't going to have a choice. I'm an adult, capable of making my own decisions. So what if I'm in a bit of danger? The world's a dangerous place. Might as well make the most of it."
Harry rubbed the spot above his eyebrow like he were nursing a terrible headache. "The twins won't be thrilled, either," he said, as though it would be enough to change her mind.
"They aren't my keepers," she shrugged. "They'll be worried – Fred especially – but that's a price I'm willing to pay."
Harry fell quiet, looking back out over the lake. The glasslike surface of the water was broken unexpectedly, one of the spindly tentacles of the giant squid reaching up into the sky as though searching out the warmth of the shining sun.
"What has Dumbledore said?" Harry finally asked.
"Haven't seen him to be able to ask," she shrugged again. "It all happened so quickly, and besides, this idea didn't occur to me until the day after he went AWOL. And with Umbridge monitoring every method of communication in and out of the castle, there's no way to contact him."
"So you're entirely on your own," he finished grimly.
"Nah, I'm never on my own," she said cheerfully. "I've got you."
He was incredulous. "Me? What can I do?"
When she smiled, it was softer than before. "Just be here, Harry. That's all I need."
They faded into quiet again, Harry watching the giant squid and Winona watching Harry. "If you get hurt, Winnie…" he trailed off, but that was okay. The sentence didn't really need saying, after all.
"I know, Boy-Wonder," she told him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "But I'll be okay."
He didn't struggle against her hug, but he didn't lean into it either, gazing out at the lake. "You can't know that," he said softly. "You can't always See."
"That's true," she admitted. "But if I just sit at home and hide myself away, afraid of the world and all the monsters in it… I won't be able to live with myself. I'm done hiding. I want to be of some use."
"You are useful," he argued. "You're important, Winnie. To all of us."
She smiled and playfully mussed up his hair, making it even more wild than usual. "Thanks Harry, but truthfully? I need to prove it to myself. Besides, you can't look me in the eye and tell me it isn't a place of amazing leverage, letting the Minister believe I'm under his thumb."
He didn't want to admit it, but she could tell he knew she had a point. "Will you at least be careful?" he finally asked, knowing the battle was lost.
"Of course I will," she said, but even she wasn't sure whether or not it was the truth. Would she be careful? Could she promise that she wouldn't take risks? Not honestly. If an opportunity arose to get a one-up against the enemy, she didn't imagine there was much that would stop her from taking it, no matter the cost.
But she voiced none of that to Harry, just squeezing him tighter and leaning back against the same tree their parents had once lounged beneath, staring out at the same lake and the same squid and the same sky, trying not to imagine what her mother might say, were she still alive.
The Easter Holidays passed without fanfare. Winona spent most of her time split between reluctantly studying for NEWTs and soaking up time with the twins before they would leave come the new term.
They were busy planning their revenge on Umbridge and sorting out all the final details to do with opening the shop. Winona dedicated her sleepless nights to finishing up the last of the advertisement designs and packaging artwork for their products, and by the time the holidays had almost come to an end, there was little left to do but arrive at the shop and begin setting up for the grand opening.
The Sunday night before the end of break, Winona found herself halfheartedly scanning her Charms textbook as she sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione in the common room. They were reading over the career pamphlets left for the fifth years to peruse in preparation for their career advice meetings with McGonagall, come the start of the new term.
Winona was just ignoring her work and telling Ron all the reasons why he'd do terribly in a career training security trolls when the twins appeared as if by magic, back from their trip to Snape's potion stores to gather the last ingredient for their final trick.
Winona was trying very hard not to think about how she only had one day left at Hogwarts with them. Instead she'd been focusing her attention on other things, like her schoolwork and trying to plan out exactly how she was going to act like a good little girl when the Minister inevitably pissed her off sometime in the not-so-distant future.
"Ginny's had a word with us about you," said Fred in greeting, dropping into the spot beside Winona and tossing his arm around her shoulder. He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and the pamphlets balancing there fluttered to the floor. "She says you need to talk to Sirius?"
Winona raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned to look at Harry, who looked terribly uncomfortable. But that was Fred: blunt about most things in life, even sort-of father figures on the run from the Ministry of Magic.
"What?" asked Hermione sharply. It didn't take a genius to see she disapproved.
"Yeah…" said Harry in an attempt to sound casual, "I thought I'd like-"
"Don't be so ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?"
"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George, balancing himself on the armrest of Winona's chair and grinning at Harry secretively. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"
"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we wanted to make the most of our time left with this one," he added, dragging Winona closer to his chest. She squirmed playfully, with no real intention of leaving his embrace. "But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued on briskly, "and if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?"
"Shh," Winona hushed him, because he was unknowingly speaking just a little too loud for her tastes.
"Yes, but still," murmured Hermione with painstaking patience, "even if you do cause a diversion, how's Harry supposed to talk to him?"
Harry was the one with the answer to that. "Umbridge's office."
Winona's eyebrows went high in surprise. "The only fireplace not being monitored," she said. "I'm impressed. That's some brilliant scheming, cousin."
Harry just smiled bashfully while Hermione had gone a concerning shade of white. "Are – you – insane?" she hissed as though they'd suggested wondering into the Ministry and mooning the Minister while he gave one of his pointless speeches to the huddled masses.
Harry shrugged. "I don't think so."
"And how are you going to get in there in the first place?" she demanded, eyes wild.
"Sirius's knife."
Hermione blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock," Harry reminded her. "So even if she's bewitched the door so Alahomora won't work, which I bet she has-"
"What do you think about this?" Hermione had whirled around on Ron, who looked rather stricken to be asked to contribute to the conversation.
"I dunno," said Ron awkwardly. "I mean, if Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?"
"Spoken like a true friend, and Weasley," said Fred proudly, clapping Ron firmly on the back. "Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors-"
Winona realised what they meant for their distraction to be and felt a swooping in her gut as she was reminded, again, just how limited their time was together.
Fred continued on, oblivious to Winona's pain. "Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office – I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?" He looked at George.
"Easy," George agreed.
"And Winnie will go with you," added Fred. She looked up at him in surprise. "Someone needs to keep an eye out, and I'm sure you'll want to speak to him, too."
Winona was already shaking her head. "I want to be with you when it happens," she said, frowning deeply at the thought.
Fred ducked his head down closer to hers. "Harry needs you more," she told her, and for the first time since they'd met, she hated the fact that he knew her so well. Because it meant he knew exactly what to say to make her agree with him.
"What sort of diversion is it?" asked Ron eagerly.
"You'll see, little bro," said Fred with a lazy smirk tossed his way. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."
Hermione couldn't resist trying again. "You should really reconsider this, you two. If you get caught-"
"Doesn't matter," said George before she could waste any more breath. "Trust us."
Hermione looked like that was maybe asking a tad too much of her, but Winona spoke up before things could devolve. "All right," she said decisively. "I'll meet you outside Umbridge's office at five, okay Harry?"
He nodded, relief sparkling in his eyes. She hadn't known he was so desperate to speak with Sirius, and she felt bad for not thinking of it sooner. Of course he'd have wanted to check in with his god-father. There were very few people Harry felt he could actually trust these days, and Sirius was as close to a parent as he was ever going to come.
But Hermione wasn't done nagging. "Winona, honestly, you need to think about this clearly-"
Winona stood swiftly to her feet. "Bed?" she asked the twins, who glanced at one another before nodding in agreement. Winona waved goodnight to Harry, then all but dragged Fred up the stairs to his dorm.
As much as she'd have liked to draw the curtains around Fred's bed and lose herself in him for the night, she wanted to make the most of this final night with both the twins – not just the one who happened to be her boyfriend. Reaching their dorm, they put pillows on the floor between their beds and George cracked open a box of Every Flavour Beans while Fred set music playing from the magical radio in the corner.
"You could come with us, y'know?" Fred said after the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, leaving the only light to come from the lamps set about the dorm. Do the Hippogriff by the Weird Sisters played from the radio, and Winona hummed along, picking out only the beans she got a good feeling about to eat.
"What, fly away on your broom with you and just leave everyone else here to the sharks?" she asked skeptically. Fred looked hopeful and she felt terrible to have to let him down. "I can't," she said softly. "But you're right. Only a matter of weeks till we'll see each other again. We've survived worse."
Fred pouted but thankfully didn't argue. Winona looked to George, who was trying to prise the collector's card out from the back of his chocolate frog package.
"Did you tell Katie your plans?" she asked him quietly, unable to help but notice their friend – and George's tentative girlfriend – was nowhere in sight.
"She's really stressed out about exams," he said, but it sounded lame to Winona's ears.
"She's that upset, huh?" she asked, sympathetic.
George sighed. "She's just sad, I think. I dunno, we haven't exactly been putting labels on anything. Besides, with us leaving to open the shop and her with another year at Hogwarts to get through, we've been careful to keep it light. Long distance would be the worst."
She nodded in agreement, thinking about how hard it was going to be when she was separated from Fred. They'd spent the last seven years all but glued at the hip, and now she was going to be at Hogwarts alone, miles and miles between them, with not even letters to keep in contact. They could owl, but with Umbridge reading everything they wrote, it wasn't exactly a glowing option for either of them.
"I'll miss her, though," George said suddenly, and Winona looked away from where Fred was tracing patterns on the exposed skin of her leg to find her best friend sighing to himself, looking more miserable than she'd ever seen him.
"You've got a good thing going, the two of you," she told him gently.
"Yeah," he said, and left it at that.
Eventually they had to go to bed – the twins had a long flight back to London come tomorrow, and there was nothing to say. Winona tried not to think of it as a goodbye – because it wasn't. They were leaving, and it sucked, but it wasn't like they were disappearing from her life forever. In only a matter of weeks she'd be free of Hogwarts too, and then they'd all be finding their way in the big wide world together.
She kissed George on the cheek in goodnight, telling herself again that it wasn't a goodbye, then curled up with Fred as they snuffed the candles and plunged the dorm into darkness.
The next day, the twins went to their classes as though nothing was any different. To Winona they seemed more somber than usual, quiet in a way they usually weren't, but she thought maybe she was the only one who noticed. Winona tried to act like it was any old day, and not like her heart itself was being strapped to a broom come five o'clock and flown all the way back to London.
Their final class of the day – Charms – let out earlier than usual, which meant Winona got to have a moment to gather herself before going to meet Harry at Umbridge's office.
Fred tugged her into an alcove off the side of the hallway and George leant against the tapestry hiding them, a casual guard against anyone who might try to interrupt the couple's goodbye.
Not a goodbye, she reminded herself sternly, just a 'see you later'.
When Fred kissed her, though, it felt like goodbye. It felt like he was memorising her with his hands, with his lips. She tugged at his fiery hair and kissed him much the same. "Second thoughts?" she panted once they'd parted in an effort to catch their breath.
"A little," he said, smoothing a hand down her hair. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" he asked, worry puckering the bit of skin between his brows.
"I'm going to be fine," she promised him. "I'll miss you, though."
He kissed her again, thoroughly and languidly, making it stretch for a short eternity. To couldn't truly last forever, though, and eventually George cleared his throat from the other side of the tapestry to let them know it was time. Winona broke away from Fred with a reluctant sigh.
"Don't forget about that wonderful future of ours," said Fred, brushing her hair back again, the action unbearably tender.
She was horrified when her eyes began to burn with tears, but luckily Fred didn't suspect the truth behind them. He smiled fondly, thinking she was only sad over their farewell.
"Hey," he said as she sniffled rather pathetically. "I love you."
She took a deep breath, smoothed her hands down his firm chest, and said, "I love you." An unspoken promise he couldn't yet understand.
They broke apart reluctantly, and Winona burst from the alcove to tackle George in the kind of embrace that cut off his air supply and left him feeling smothered. "Blimey, Win," he laughed, gently prising her off him and laughing again at the shine to her stormy eyes. "It's only a few weeks, kid. We'll be together again in no time."
"I know," she said, stomach swooping for reasons unknown. Did she think it was a lie? Something in her was afraid, like by letting them go now she was sending them off to war. Ridiculous, of course. They'd be safe in their shop. Who'd ever have reason to attack a couple of up-and-coming jokesters? "Love you, Georgie."
He kissed her affectionately on the forehead, bopped her playfully on the tip of her nose, and then with a final, identical smile, the Weasley twins vanished like ghosts in the night. Winona took a moment to breathe deeply, trying to shove her grief into a box where it wouldn't be so loud, to let herself think clearly.
Harry needed her – he was going to talk to Sirius. The pull of her cousin and father was enough to bring her back to herself, and so Winona straightened her shoulders like she was taking on an armada all on her own, and strode confidently to the Headmistress' office.
She reached it before Harry, just a few minutes before the clock began to chime five. She slouched lazily against the wall and picked at her nails, making it look, to anyone passing, as though she were simply awaiting a detention with Umbridge. It was hardly an unbelievable assumption to make; she'd certainly had enough of them over the last year.
Harry appeared around the corner so quickly that he nearly slid and careened into the stone wall, but righted himself just in time. In the very far distance she could hear screams and shouts, and she knew the twins had already begun their final Hogwarts' mischief. Winona stood upright as Harry reached her and yanked Sirius' knife from his bag, stabbing it into the keyhole and wedging the lock open without so much as a word to her.
They both knew how dangerous this was, and just how little time they had to complete their mission and get the hell out of dodge before they were caught.
Winona grabbed the little box filled with glittering green Floo Powder and handed it to Harry. He took it robotically, threw a pinch into the flames, then knelt to the floor and thrust his head into the flames, shouting, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"
Winona went back to the door, because she couldn't hear Harry's conversation with Sirius from this end. The best she could do was stand guard at the door and shout if anyone came too close.
Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, and Winona's skin prickled with awareness a few moments before she saw someone burst into the corridor through the crack in Umbridge's door and turned to Harry. She gripped his shoulder without saying a word. There was a beat, then Harry was jerking his head out of the flames and collapsing back onto Umbridge's ugly shag rug.
"It's Filch," she hissed once he'd coughed the ash from his lungs. "Cloak, now!"
Harry scrambled for his bag, tearing out his father's invisibility cloak and throwing it over the both of them just in time for avoid being seen by Filch, who burst into the rom, muttering something about an approval for whipping.
Oblivious to the two Gryffindors huddled under the invisibility cloak in the corner, the caretaker rifled through Umbridge's desk until he withdrew a piece of pristine parchment, kissed it noisily, then shuffled his way back out into the corridor with it clutched preciously to his chest.
Once he was gone, Harry and Winona finally allowed themselves to breathe. They pressed close together, crouching to keep their legs hidden by the cloak – as they'd both grown no small amount over the years and the cloak was really only large enough for one fully-grown adult to hide beneath it comfortably – and followed Filch's path out into the corridor, taking great care to shut and re-lock the door behind them.
"Come on," said Harry once they reached an empty second-floor landing and they were far enough away from Umbridge's office to feel safe shucking off the cloak. Gripping the strap of her bag, Winona followed close behind, unable to deny that some part of her was dreading seeing the mayhem the twins had caused.
At the base of the main staircase was a thick crowd, large enough that it looked like most of the school had gathered to watch the show. Winona paused on the stairs and peered into the very centre of the commotion, where Fred and George stood before a smug Umbridge, who looked very much like she thought she had this whole castle under her control.
"So," said the Headmistress in a sneer, "you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
The entire school seemed to be holding their breath.
When Fred looked up at Umbridge it was without the slightest hint of fear in his eyes, jaw straining from the hatred he felt for her. "Pretty amusing, yeah," he said callously. Winona pressed a hand over her mouth to hide her near-hysterical laughter.
Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness. "I've got the form, Headmistress," he croaked triumphantly, waving the piece of parchment he'd just taken from Umbridge's desk like it were a medal at the olympics. "I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting…oh, let me do it now…" He looked about to wet himself in excitement.
"Very good, Argus," said Umbridge in a gleeful tone of voice. "You two," she went on, sneering down her nose at at Fred and George, who remained standing tall and proud in the entrance hall, "are about to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
Unperturbed, Fred turned calmly to George. "You know what? I don't think we are. George – I think we've outgrown full-time education."
George rocked back on his heels, and shit-eating grin on his face. "Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," he said conversationally.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"
"Definitely."
And before Umbridge could say so much as a single word, they raised their wands as one and said,
"Accio brooms!"
Their brooms – which had been behind lock and key in Umbridge's office – appeared with a crash, and Winona ducked out of the way just in time to avoid a broom to the head. The broomsticks careened around the corner and came to a smooth stop in front of their owners, who beamed brightly as they straddled their rides in one identical movement.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Umbridge scathingly.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," agreed George.
And because they were businessmen at heart and never failed to make use of a golden opportunity, Fred turned to the watchful eyes of the attentive crowd and shouted, "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley – Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing a lazy thumb at Professor Umbridge who by now was nearly purple with rage.
"STOP THEM!" she shrieked, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, the twins kicked off from the floor and shot high into the air. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.
"Give her hell from us, Peeves."
Peeves sprang into an unexpected salute just as the crowd burst into tumultuous cheers. Fred and George grinned down at them all, eyes searching the crowd. Winona was helpless but to lock eyes with Fred, and when his victorious beam melted into something warmer, Winona lifting a hand to her mouth and blew him a heartfelt kiss.
He pretended to lunge to catch it, making her grin even despite the uncomfortable burn of her eyes, and just like that her best friends were gone, shooting off into the sunset before Umbridge could lift a hand to stop them. And her heart sunk because, for the first time since she'd first stepped foot in the castle all those years ago, she felt truly alone.
And the worst was still to come.
AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Someone recently mentioned that they thought the genre listings of this story were incorrect, and that I shouldn't have 'adventure' listed. I realised they were absolutely right, and I apologise. I've changed 'adventure' to 'angst', which I think we can all agree is much more fitting.
Thanks for your support – both on here and at my various social media. As I always say, I'm always up for a chat. I've had a few people asking me to co-write their stories with them, and it's something I'm open to in the future, but for now I'm working on so many personal projects that I don't really have time to add anything else to my plate. But if you wanted to bounce ideas off me or get me to check out your own stories and give feedback, I'm happy to do that when I have time.
Review of the week goes to: Lavendor Queen – thanks so much for your review! I'm so sorry to have ruined your week, but I've been in that situation with fanfics before, and I know from experience that it's usually a good sort of ruined. At least, I hope it is this time. Your questions for the future of Winona's journey made me smile – they're all the questions I asked myself when I was writing this story. Hopefully this chapter answered a few of them for you, but don't worry, there are plenty of reveals to come. Xx