So Close to Magic

by Sonny13

Winona was new to the whole 'magic' thing, but she was pretty sure that even by Hogwarts' standards, drawing the future was freaky. She's content just to let her secret gather dust in a dark corner of her mind, but as she soon learns, the future waits for nobody, and when the young boy from her visions finally arrives at Hogwarts, the real work begins. Fred/OC

72. Then we're in agreement

A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to take a super quick moment to make a very public statement about where I stand with Harry Potter/JK Rowling, in regards to recent events.

In no way do I agree with or condone Ms. Rowling's actions over the last few months. I'm violently opposed to her views on trans-people and their rights, and personally I am not currently spending any money on merch/books in the fandom in a show of solidarity to the trans community.

However, I will be continuing to write and post this story. Know that I do it with no intention of feeding into Ms. Rowlings world views, but just for the fact that I spent a lot of time writing this story in the last few years, and I don't want to throw away all that hard work. I believe in a certain removal of the art from the artist, and I believe that despite JK Rowling owning the rights, Harry Potter belongs to us all. Whether you choose to interact with the fandom or not, know that I respect your decision and fully support you in it.

Thanks for reading, you guys, and waiting so long for an update. I hope you enjoy this very long chapter as a reward!

---

The next few weeks were long and difficult.

Despite the feeling she'd had when Fred and George had first flown away, Winona found herself alone very rarely. It was almost as if – anticipating some sort of a downward spiral – her friends had all banded together and decided not to leave her alone with her thoughts for even a moment.

Angelina and Alicia were with her all day in one class or another, and Katie made sure to sit by her at every meal. Lee – who was perhaps almost as despondent as Winona herself over the twins' departure – would take the shifts when the girls had Quidditch practise. When it came time for the Hufflepuff match against Slytherin and all her friends – including Lee – were too busy with the game to watch her, she found it was Harry and Hermione who picked up the slack, making a point meet her in the common room bright and early, casually inviting her to watch the match with them.

"I'm okay, you know," she told them as the three of them wandered down to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school. "I miss the twins – I mean, of course I do – but I'm not going to fall apart just 'cause they aren't here."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look that Winona didn't care for.

"What?"

"Well, it's just, Fred and George were, well, I'd say they were a great deal of your impulse control," Hermione said as delicately as she could. Winona stared at her blankly, and she winced. "What I mean is, I think we worry what you'll do without them here to…talk you out of being so impulsive."

Winona scowled. "I don't have the luxury of being impulsive, Hermione."

"What she's trying to say, is that she's afraid you'll snap and try to beat Umbridge to a pulp next time she says something that pisses you off," Harry translated for her, and Winona's scowl deepened even as she saw the logic in the statement.

"Okay," she reluctantly gave in, "that's a fair concern to have." Hermione still looked guilty for saying it. "But you don't need to worry; I'm playing the long game now, and punching Umbridge's nose cartilage into her brain would ruin my plans."

"And what plans are those?" Hermione asked, shrewd as ever.

"Secret plans," she deadpanned. Hermione wanted to press for more – she could tell – but Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm and a brisk shake of his head, and Winona had never been more grateful for her cousin than in that moment.

"Have you spoken to the twins?" Hermione asked instead. Winona could hear her fighting to keep her tone of voice light, and she appreciated the effort.

"Nothing I can say that I also want Umbridge reading."

"I'm sure Umbridge won't read your letter personally…she's much too busy for that."

Winona scoffed. "For me? I have a feeling she's willing to do the legwork."

Hufflepuff won the match by a hair's breadth, which was good for Gryffindor because it secured them a spot on the leaderboard which meant they actually had a chance of winning the cup – even without Harry and the twins on the team.

The weeks continued to pass, and on the rare occasions that Winona was able to find a moment to herself, she found herself doing something she never thought she'd willingly do – homework.

NEWTs were coming up, and while she wasn't particularly invested in her results (she didn't need to pass her NEWTs to become an artist, after all) she still didn't want to achieve such poor marks that they nicknamed failing them all the 'Winona', or anything quite so embarrassing.

So when she got the chance to duck away from her friends' watchful eyes, she liked to find a quiet desk in some corner of the library and read over her textbooks, taking lazy notes and occasionally giving up and just sketching in the sunlight spilling through the windows. It was peaceful, and she enjoyed it while she could, because she knew once she graduated she was going to be sorely lacking in peace and quiet.

It was the final Quidditch match of the season between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw (and although the odds were heavily in Ravenclaw's favour, Winona knew differently; she didn't tell anyone, of course, because the only people she would've told were no longer at school), and Winona was once again walking down to the pitch with Harry and Hermione when there came a shout of her last name, bringing the three of them to a stop.

It was Filch, shuffling towards her, looking out of breath. "The Headmistress wants you in her office, Black," the caretaker told her through animalistic pants.

"What, now?" she asked, glancing at the entrance hall that was emptying fast, everyone eager to get down to the pitch for the match.

"Yes, now," Filch sneered.

Winona fought the urge to sneer right back and turned to look at the others. "You guys go, I'll meet you there."

They glanced warily at one another, clearly unsure if they should leave her to Umbridge on her own. But then Filch's fingers twitched towards the bullwhip he'd taken to wearing fastened to his belt and they decided it wasn't worth the trouble.

"Be smart," Hermione warned her sternly. Winona felt rather like a toddler being told off for drawing on the walls. All the same, she saluted Hermione obediently and watched as the two of them made their way down the winding path to the Quidditch Pitch, where Winona could already hear the echoing din of the excited crowd.

Sighing miserably, Winona reluctantly turned and followed Filch back up through the school towards the Headmistress' office. As they approached the door, Winona heard the sounds of voices on the other side. Apparently Umbridge wasn't alone. Winona felt the floor drop out from underneath her feet as her stomach swooped with panic.

Filch knocked on the door briskly and the voices within came to an abrupt halt just before Umbridge's saccharine voice called for them to enter. Winona wasn't sure who to expect when the door swung open – but for the second time in her life, she was shocked to find Fudge stood beyond the doorway, waiting to have a meeting with her.

Her heart lurched and she gripped the ends of her sleeves in tight fists, chewing on her tongue and fighting the urge to reach for her wand. Umbridge was stood behind her ornate desk with Fudge next to her, holding his hat in his hand, smiling wolfishly as she entered. They looked far too much like cats who'd caught a canary.

She didn't particularly care to be the canary.

"Thank you, Argus," said Umbridge pointedly, and with another ridiculous bow he shuffled from the room and sealed the door tightly after himself. For a long moment the sound of a quill against parchment was the only sound filling the room and Winona noticed, suddenly, that Percy Weasley was sat in the very corner of the room, his horn-rimmed glasses and fiery red hair distinct as anything.

Winona swallowed back the urge to toss an insult his way, if not for everything he'd done to hurt his family, then just because he was a power-hungry, pretentious excuse for a Gryffindor. But she sealed her lips tightly, because for her plan to work, Fudge needed to think she was a competent young witch – not a loose cannon with anger issues and a problem with authority that existed at a fundamental level of her being.

"Miss Black," said Fudge, his smile all teeth. "Won't you please have a seat?"

Robotically, she took a seat in the single chair opposite Umbridge's desk and folded her fists in her lap to remind herself not to do anything stupid with them.

"Can I get you some tea?" Umbridge asked sweetly.

"No, thank you," said Winona, and to her relief they accepted her answer the first time. Clearly their plan wasn't to drug her and pump her for information – she supposed this was them being nice.

Fudge walked around Umbridge's desk and took a seat on the edge of the piece of furniture, smiling at her still, like she'd walked right into his trap. "How are your classes doing, my dear?" he asked conversationally. "Headmistress Umbridge tells me you're quite the gifted one with Arithmancy."

Winona set her jaw and met his cold stare. She wasn't in the mood for smalltalk. Not when her heart was galloping in her chest, swelling up into her throat and making it hard to breathe. "Why are you here, Minister?"

Fudge chuckled like he found her mildly amusing. Winona said nothing, waiting impatiently for him to answer her question. Eventually the laughter faded and Fudge assessed her coolly. "Your Headmistress has asked me here today, Miss Black, because of a conversation the two of you had some weeks ago," he began, peering deep into her eyes.

While Winona didn't think he would be so stupid as to attempt Legilimency on her right then and there (that was, if he was even capable of performing such magic on his own) but all the same she took what Dumbledore had taught her about Occlumency and shielded her mind from attack. The Ministry had stolen enough from her; it didn't get to have her thoughts, too.

"I believe you have expressed a renewed interest in the offer I made you early last year. Although, you seem to have added a few stipulations of your own," he said, glancing over at Percy with another chuckle. Percy laughed along with him, and it took a great deal of restraint for Winona not to flip the traitorous bastard off then and there. She tightened her grip on her sleeves and bit down on her tongue, fighting to keep her expression blank. Fudge looked back at her. "Quite brazen of you, to think you're worth so much to me, Miss Black."

She cocked her head. "Aren't I?"

Fudge's lips twitched into a scowl, but the displeasure was wiped away just as swiftly. "If you have valuable information of any kind you wish to share with me, might I suggest now as being a good time to do so?"

Winona leant back in her chair. "You're not getting so much as a note of the future until I have proof – in writing, on the front page of the Daily Prophet – that Sirius Black has been given a fair trial and exonerated of all charges."

Fudge's jaw clicked hard and fire shone in his eyes. "And if that fair trial still finds him guilty?"

Her expression was cold. "If it is indeed a fair trial, then it won't find him guilty."

"You're so convinced of your father's innocence?" asked Fudge in a pitying sort of a voice. She didn't like it – it made her feel dirty – but she was walking across a field dotted with landmines. One misstep could ruin everything. She had to move with extreme caution; something she wasn't terribly accustomed to doing.

"My father was sent to Azkaban without so much as a trial," she said, doing her best to sound cool and removed even with her heart in her throat. "My father was not and will never be a Death Eater. And any suggestion otherwise is an insult."

Fudge appraised her in silence for a long few moments. "Yes," he finally murmured, eyes narrowed. "Yes, I suppose it is."

The only sound filling the room was the crackle-pop of the fire and the scratch of Percy's quill against his notebook. Winona stared at Fudge and Fudge stared back, the two caught in an unexpected stalemate. Winona only knew that if this was a battle of wills, she wouldn't be the first to break.

The tense quiet was finally broken by Umbridge. She coughed delicately into her hand, fighting for the Minister's focus, and Winona breathed a silent sigh of relief when he was the first to look away, turning to Umbridge. "Cornelius," she said, simpering more than ever before. "I agree the girl's ability would be most useful, but you can't honestly be considering her demands…"

Although he was looking in her direction, Fudge didn't appear to be listening to her at all. He was stroking his chin, eyes hazy and distant like somebody in the middle of a particularly thrilling daydream.

"Yes, yes, useful indeed," he murmured to himself. He glanced back to Winona, who hadn't moved an inch since he'd looked away. "Thinking on it now, a fair trial is all a man truly deserves, isn't it?" he mused. Winona wasn't sure where this was going, and she couldn't help but hope. From behind him, Umbridge had gone white. "And should a political figure head such as myself manage to…exonerate a convicted felon of all his crimes… Well, it would make the previous administration look like fools, wouldn't it? And the public would certainly be grateful for my setting an innocent man free…"

He was deep in his scheming. Percy was taking notes like crazy, though Winona couldn't imagine what they were about. She moved her eyes to Umbridge, who was staring at her furiously, as if Winona were corrupting her precious Minister right in front of her eyes. She held tight to the urge to wiggle her fingers and wink smugly at the pale, toad-like woman.

"Cornelius," said Umbridge pleadingly.

The Minister simply held up a hand to silence her, and Umbridge was left gaping at the scene before her in horror. "Yes, I believe this could be spun in the right way…wouldn't you say, Weasley?" he asked, looking over at Percy, whose head popped up from the notepad he was writing on to nod enthusiastically. "The public loves a good redemption story. And if I have the ex-convict's daughter at my side through it all… Imagine the support I'll receive."

He looked hungry now, like a ravenous fox licking its chops at the sight of a fat, vulnerable hen. The thought of spending longer than even a day pretending to care what this vapid, power-hungry politician had to say was akin to chewing off her own foot, but in war everyone had to do things they didn't want to do. Some more so than others.

"Does this mean you're agreeing to my terms?" she asked, glad when her voice came out even.

Fudge's eyes finally refocused on her, and she watched as he brought himself back down to earth. Clearing his throat, he straightened his robes and sat back down on the edge of Umbridge's desk. "It appears, Miss Black, that we each find ourselves in need of the other's abilities."

"You'll give my father a trial if I agree to work with you after I graduate?" she said again, because his answer was too flowery and roundabout to give her any peace of mind.

Fudge arched a grey eyebrow. "I'll need your half of the deal in writing as well, you understand."

Her teeth ground together in her mouth and she tried to tell herself she wasn't making a terrible mistake. She couldn't just owl her dad, or Remus, or even Dumbledore, to ask them what she should do. She realised now that right here, right now, she was completely alone, nothing but her wits and her skills to keep her safe. It was a harrowing thought, one that threatened to suck all the oxygen out of the room.

But as Winona breathed deep and steady, she cast her mind to happier things; to that shiny, faraway future with Fred they'd imagined. To get there she had to first climb over this mountain – but she could do that, because she knew what awaited her on the other side.

It was with that sobering thought in mind that Winona was able to pull herself together. There would be no more weakness. She had to do this, she had to play her part in protecting this world and all the people she loved within it. She had to finally start being strong.

The thoughts took several moments to filter through her brain, and at her hesitation the Minister's eyes tightened in displeasure as he asked, "Miss Black?"

She lifted her chin and affixed a blank mask over what was otherwise a vulnerable expression. "I understand, Minister," she said calmly. "I'll want to wait until I've graduated to make anything official, of course. And no doubt you'll need time to bring together the Wizengamot for another trial befitting Sirius Black's status."

Fudge stared back, perfectly cool and calculating, which reminded Winona of the fact that he'd been playing this game a lot longer than she had. She could only hope her wits would be enough, this time. "Of course," Fudge said with a slow nod of his head. "Then we're in agreement."

"It appears we are."

"I'll expect you at the Ministry no more than a week after your Hogwarts' graduation ceremony," he said carefully. "Gives you some time to acclimate to life outside of the castle," he added in a show of kindness that she didn't buy for a moment.

"Thank you," she said, because it was all there was to say, and he nodded again, accepting her thanks stoically.

"And it should go without saying, Miss Black, that this agreement of ours stays between us until such time as I'm ready to release an official statement to the press."

"Of course," she nodded, and that seemed to be everything he needed to hear.

The Minister turned to Umbridge, whose smile looked like it had been set in stone upon her pug-nosed face. "Thank you, Delores," he said to her gratefully. Winona wasn't sure she wanted to know what he was thanking her for, but just as quickly remembered that information was her new currency, and even if she didn't want answers, her job was now to get them. "With me, Weasley," he barked at Percy, who was on his feet before the Minister had even finished saying his name, following him to the fireplace where they stepped inside and disappeared in the space it took Winona to blink.

Left alone in the office with Umbridge, Winona watched warily as the Headmistress turned to her, her shark-like smile setting off alarm bells in the back of Winona's head.

"Well," said Umbridge in a voice sickly sweet as processed sugar. "You're certainly a resourceful young girl, aren't you? Finding a way to inch your way into this administration like that."

It was a comment with enough layers to make anyone dizzy. Winona lifted her chin a fraction, showing Umbridge that she wasn't afraid of her, or her insults. "I don't know what you mean," she said, the words dripping with innocence. Umbridge's eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits. "I'm simply doing my part for the people," she leant forwards and lowered her voice as if sharing a secret. "I think my gift can do a lot of good. I can tell the Minister who he should…and shouldn't…trust. Seems like a very useful skill indeed, don't you agree?"

Umbridge glowered like she'd have thrown herself over her own desk and reached down Winona's throat to tear out her heart if she thought for a moment that there was a way she could away with it. But they both knew there wasn't, and Winona smiled sweetly at the Headmistress, fluttering her eyelashes for dramatic effect.

"I should be getting along," she said once it was clear Umbridge was too furious to speak. "The Quidditch match will be over soon, and I want to celebrate Gryffindor's win."

Umbridge's eyes darted to the window, where they could just see the Quidditch pitch in the distance, and hear the crowd's tumultuous cheers. "But the game isn't finished yet, dear," said Umbridge, spitting the word like venom. "Gryffindor could still lose."

Winona's smile was a fearsome thing indeed. "Perhaps," she said, her tone of voice making it perfectly clear exactly how much she knew otherwise. Umbridge didn't like her casual display of foreknowledge, and Winona relished the way it made her face turn pallid with fear.

If there was one thing Umbridge feared most, it was that which she couldn't control. And she'd just learned the truth: that Winona was the most uncontrollable of them all.

Winona all but skipped back to Gryffindor Tower, and even the member of the Inquisitorial Squad who socked her ten points for 'running in the halls' couldn't dampen her mood. She'd done a crazy, ridiculous, dangerous thing…and she'd gotten exactly what she'd been after. It made her heady with power – if she could manipulate Fudge into agreeing to this, what else could she do?

The possibilities were endless, and half her mind was lost in the river that was the flow of time by the time she reached the common room. It was mostly empty, a few students having stayed behind studying for the finals exams coming up in only a matter of days.

Winona took the opportunity to have a long, uninterrupted shower while the girls were all gone. Then she dressed comfortably and slipped up the boys' staircase while nobody was watching. Fred's bed was made immaculately and all his things were gone, sent home after they'd left. But when Winona lay down on his covers, his pillow still smelt strongly of gunpowder and fresh soil, so she closed her eyes and buried her face in the fabric.

Slowly, the high she'd felt from her wild defiance and scheming began to melt away, revealing what had lingered beneath all along: unadulterated terror.

What had she done? What had she agreed to? It felt like she'd made another Unbreakable Vow in agreeing to Fudge's terms. This had been her own plan, she'd been the one to initiate it – she knew that – but there was some part of her that had to wonder if she'd just gotten played. Yes, Sirius would be freed, but at what cost? Was it a price that, when push came to shove, she'd be willing to pay?

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing," she whispered into the pillow that smelt like Fred. It didn't answer back, but then she hadn't really been expecting it to.

She must have fallen asleep, because sometime later she was awoken by the sounds of a party in full swing downstairs when the door to the seventh years' dorm swung open, letting the noise pour in.

Winona lifted her head from the pillow to find Lee in the doorway, grimacing apologetically when he realised she'd been asleep on Fred's bed. "Sorry," he said through a wince. "I didn't know you were…"

"It's fine, Lee," she assured him. "How's Ron doing? I bet he's basking like a lizard in the warmth of all the attention."

He went about changing out of his clothes with an ease that came from years of all but sharing the dormitory with her. Winona turned away, looking up at the ceiling above Fred's bed. "He's loving it. He was actually rather fantastic. Did you see that last save? It was amazing. The twins might even cut him a break once they hear about it."

Winona smiled up at the ceiling. "Maybe. It was good, then?"

Lee paused. "What do you mean, weren't you there?"

"Nah, I had to go to a meeting with Umbridge," she confessed.

He groaned. "What was it this time? I thought you were keeping your head down now the twins were gone. You didn't go looking for trouble, did you?"

"Hardly," she scoffed, opening her mouth to tell the truth only to just as suddenly shake herself. Lee couldn't know the truth. Nobody could – except Harry (since he already did) and Dumbledore (because she'd need his help to pull it off) and Fred (because it was less about not being able to keep it from him, and more about not wanting to). "It was nothing," she told Lee, throwing in a lazy yawn for effect. "She was just whining about one thing or another. I wasn't listening. But I'm glad the match went well."

"I doubt anybody's going to be getting any sleep tonight," he said, reappearing in her vision, dressed in his pyjamas.

"And yet you're going to try?" she asked, surprised. Lee wasn't the type to turn in early – the guy loved a good party, especially when it came to celebrating a Quidditch win.

Lee looked down at himself as if surprised to find he'd put on pyjamas instead of normal clothes. "Oh, well…" he seemed sheepish all of a sudden. "Um, truth is, I have an Ancient Runes text in the morning, and if I don't study, I'm probably not going to pass."

He seemed embarrassed to admit he wanted to spend the night studying instead of partying with the rest of the Gryffindors. Winona looked at him more closely, something telling her that while his reasoning was true, there was another element to his decision that he wasn't admitting to.

He missed the twins just as much as she did. They were his best friends. And maybe life at school was just as difficult without them for him as it was for her. Partying didn't really feel like what she wanted to do either. And – she couldn't believe she was thinking this – it wouldn't hurt to do a little study herself, what with it being so close to final exams.

She reached for the bag that sat at the end of Fred's now-rumpled bed. "I'll help you study your Runes, if you test me with these Charms flashcards Angelina made for me," she offered, holding up the colour-coded flashcards with a tiny smile. Lee pretended to think about it, then laughed when she threw one of the cards at him and readily agreed.

So they spent the night like a pair of terribly boring, responsible adults; holed up in the boys' dorm helping each other cram for finals. While ordinarily it might not have been the most fun of activities, Lee quickly made up a rule that for every correct answer they got a piece of a jelly slug as a reward, which they then hoarded and used to play a game of poker once they'd gone through all their flashcards and exhausted their tired brains.

And when Winona fell asleep that night, it was feeling less alone than she had in Umbridge's office. Maybe she couldn't share all her burdens with her friends, but she realised now that wasn't the only way to help make her feel better. All she needed was time, some Honeydukes sweets, and to fall asleep submerged in Fred's scent of fireworks and fresh soil.

---

For so many years NEWTs had seemed like some faraway event, but all at once they were upon them. Taking place over a two-week period, she had six exams to take with two sections each – a written in the mornings and a practical in the afternoons. Her first was on Monday – Charms.

She did well, she thought. Certainly better than she'd expected, and the last-minute cramming had helped. Angelina was about ready to break out in hives she was so stressed about the exams, and when they broke for lunch Winona quickly zipped up to the hospital wing to grab a calming draught for her friend to take before their practical session in the afternoon.

Tuesday was Transfiguration, and she was sure she did abysmally. It had never been her strong suit, and she was sure McGonagall had only taken her on as a NEWT student in the first place out of pity. She had Wednesday free, much to her relief, and she spent the day down by the lake with Katie – who was in sixth year and thus spared the horror of NEWTs for another year.

Thursday was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Winona took great pleasure in executing every single spell asked of her in her practical exam, right in front of a scowling Umbridge's nose. Her examiner – an older wizard she knew only as Professor Tofty – was eager to tell her, "Ah, you're Harry Potter's cousin. I've heard great things about that boy, and so far he's been proving them all right!"

A nearby examiner, a prudish looking woman with black hair braided flat against her head, cleared her throat pointedly, and Professor Tofty seemed to flush as he realised he shouldn't be discussing other students' results, even if it was with their cousin.

Friday she had the day free again, then the weekend came and she spent it studying Arithmancy with extra diligence.

"If I'd known Fred and George leaving was all it would take to make you take schoolwork seriously, I'd have sent them away years ago," said Angelina, coming in from dinner on the Sunday to find Winona already set up at her favourite table by the window in the common room, doing a complicated stream of sums on a spare piece of parchment.

"I'd be studying whether they were here or not," Winona assured her. "Believe it or not, I do actually want to pass my exams."

"I don't need them to be an artist," Alicia quoted in a voice that sounded nothing like Winona's, taking a seat across from her and splaying her textbooks on the desk space, ready for a long night of cramming. "That's what you always say."

"Yeah, so what's changed?" asked Angelina, looking skeptical.

Winona shrugged. "I guess I'm realising that these are my last few weeks here, and I want to make the most of them."

The girls exchanged a look. "By…studying?" asked Alicia warily. "Who are you and what have you done with Winona?"

"I guess I just…" Winona took a steadying breath. "I don't want the past seven years to be in vain. I want to prove I was worthy of being here. And I want to prove that I'm smarter than I look."

Angelina tutted at her self-deprecating joke, and neither of them laughed. "You're clever, Winona. Everyone knows it."

"Yeah," she murmured, unconvinced.

The girls knew her well enough to know they shouldn't push, so they changed the subject and focused on testing one another for the next week's exams.

Winona had Care of Magic Creatures on Monday, Herbology on Tuesday and then finally Arithmancy on Thursday. They all went well – more so than she'd even expected them to – but by the time her last exam was finished and she was left without anything to focus on, Winona felt anxious and antsy. She'd never jogged a day in her life, but suddenly she was staring out the window wondering if it wouldn't be such a bad idea to go for a quick jaunt around the lake to work off some of her energy.

Where was Fred when she needed him? One good romp in the sack would be just as good – better – than a week's worth of jogs around a frosty lake.

That night she was in the common room with Lee, Angelina, Katie and Alicia when it happened. All of them were minding their own business, playing a halfhearted game of Exploding Snap and taking turns coming up with ways they would kill Umbridge (a game Winona introduced them to after the twins were gone and she had nobody else to play with) when there came a great commotion from the grounds outside the castle.

"Filch on the sauce again?" asked Lee without looking up from his cards.

But people in the common room were started to flock towards the windows, and something in Winona's gut told her it wasn't anything so mundane. Without a word she put down her hand, climbed to her feet and made her way over the window to see what was going on.

She watched on in no small amount of abject horror as a small group of what looked like Aurors – led by the unmistakeable, pink, pudgy form of Umbridge – seemed to be attacking Hagrid and his dog. Her friends joined her by the window and Katie gasped as jets of red light shot from their wands. The Stunning Spells bounced harmlessly off Hagrid – in thanks, no doubt, to his giant's blood – but Fang wasn't quite so lucky.

The poor pooch collapsed in a heap in the dirt and Hagrid let out a roar that seemed to shake the castle itself – which, in hindsight, might have just been Winona's own pulse stuttering and leaping in her chest.

A new figure joined the fight, a familiar Scottish drawl demanding they leave Hagrid alone. Winona watched in distress as the Aurors shot four identical spells at Professor McGonagall, who lifted all the way into the air with the force of them and collapsed in the dirt without moving.

Screams and mutters broke out amongst the gathered Gryffindors, and just as Lee was beginning to round up a small group of the oldest of them to go fight on behalf of their school, the unexpected battle came to an abrupt end.

Hagrid slung an unconscious Fang over his shoulders and hightailed it out of there, running out through the school gates and disappearing into the midnight shadows. Winona watched Umbridge appear to sulk as the Aurors levitated McGonagall into the air and carried her back inside the castle – presumably to the hospital wing.

"What was that all about?" Alicia asked Winona expectantly.

"No idea," she said, feeling rather like she'd just seen a horror movie she hadn't consented to watching. Something about the emptiness in her voice kept her friends from pressing for more, and for that Winona was relieved.

Not long after that, Seamus and Dean appeared, fresh from their Astronomy practical and front row seat to the drama. They were loudly telling the common room everything they'd seen and heard when Harry and his friends stumbled into the room, looking too stricken for words.

Harry made a beeline for Winona, but she was shaking her head before he'd even arrived. "No idea," she answered the question he hadn't yet asked, but knew was coming. "I'll keep an eye on him, though I think he's going to be okay."

"But why sack Hagrid now?" Angelina asked asking Seamus and Dean. "It's not like Trelawney; he's been teaching much better than usual this year!"

"Umbridge hates part-humans," said Hermione bitterly, flopping down into an armchair, her eyes looking a little bit red, although that could have just been the bad lighting. "She was always going to try and get Hagrid out."

"And she thought Hagrid was putting Nifflers in her office," added Katie.

"Oh, blimey," said Lee, slapping a hand over his mouth, looking more contrite than she'd ever seen him. "It's me who's been putting the Nifflers in her office," he revealed guiltily. "Fred and George left me a couple; I've been levitating them in through her window."

Winona whirled around on him with fire in her eyes. "And you didn't tell me?!"

"Because I knew you'd be mad!" Lee cried.

"You're bloody right I'm mad, you little-"

"The point is, she'd have sacked him anyway," called Dean over the scene they were starting, seeming to sense the fight breaking out and trying to avoid it. Winona reluctantly let herself cool; there'd been enough fighting for one night. "He was too close to Dumbledore."

"That's true," Harry agreed, collapsing into the chair beside Hermione and rubbing a hand across his brow. He looked tired, Winona realised, but before she could truly begin to fret he looked up as if sensing her worry and mustered a worn smile.

"I just hope Professor McGonagall's all right," said Lavender Brown, looking moments away from bursting into tears. Winona edged away from her and hoped she'd keep her head.

"They carried her back up to the castle, we watched through the dormitory window. She didn't look very well," said Colin Creevey, who seemed positively thrilled to be a part of the conversation. Winona thought he was the human equivalent of the saying 'he's just happy to be here'.

"Madam Pomfrey will sort her out," said Alicia without a note of doubt in her voice. "She's never failed yet."

"Yeah, remember when she had to grow back all the bones in your arm?" Winona said to Harry, and a couple of them chuckled at the memory. "If she can do that, I reckon she can do anything."

Everyone stayed up another few hours, despite half of them having exams come morning. The room buzzed with nervous anticipation, everyone dying to know what exactly had happened in Hagrid's Hut, and whether Professor McGonagall was going to be okay.

It was nearing four in the morning when Harry approached Winona, who was sitting by the windowsill, sketching an image of Hagrid with Fang slung over his shoulders. She looked up as he settled beside her, but her easy smile faded into a frown when she saw his expression.

"What now?" she asked tiredly.

Harry told her, in a voice so quiet she nearly missed half of it, about what – or rather, who – Hagrid had brought back with him from his visit with the giants, where he was being kept, and how he expected them to look after him in his absence.

Winona dropped her face into her hands. "Harry," she groaned, then stopped. But it turned out she didn't need to say anything.

"I know," he moaned in response, tipping his head against the window and sighing at the feeling of the cool glass against his aching head. "Trust me, I know. But how was I supposed to know he'd want me to give an illegal giant English lessons when I agreed to do a favour?"

"Bloody hell," she whispered. "This is a nightmare."

"I know. If it could leave Hagrid covered head to toe in bruises, imagine what it'll do to us!"

"No, I mean the whole situation in general," she sighed, then frowned. "Although that is a concern… Maybe don't get too close, for my own peace of mind, okay?"

"What are we going to do?" Harry groaned.

"Well, summer holidays will be here in no time, and you can't exactly nip up from Surrey just to check on the thing."

Harry looked somewhat cheered by that, nodding eagerly. "Right," he agreed. "I've only got to deal with it until the holidays, and then…"

Winona sighed again. "And then."

Throughout all of this – all the weeks without the twins and being hovered over by her friends and actually putting an effort into her education – there was one thing on the forefront of her mind. And it wasn't her impending due date to start working for Fudge.

She didn't know exactly which day it was going to happen, but what she knew – from dozens and dozens of trips into the river of time – was this: Harry was going to have a vision. That vision was going to lead him – them – to the Department of Mysteries. There they would face Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And there Sirius was going to die.

Unless she stopped it.

She'd gone over every possibility in her mind. What if she told Harry the vision was a fake? She'd seen his response – he was going to go anyway, because the vision had felt so real to him he just had to know for sure.

What if she went and told McGonagall what they were planning? Maybe everything would turn out okay. Except that Sirius' fate from then on became murky and clouded. His time was coming – this was his time – and if she didn't stop it now, death would come for him in some other fashion, some other way she would be impossible to stop.

After all these years, she believed she was given these visions for a reason. Not so she could change the whole world. Not to make everything as perfect and squeaky-clean as could be. But to make small changes here and there. She, like everyone, was at the whim of the cosmos. Changing the events that were coming wasn't her purpose. But getting herself to exactly the right place at exactly the right time to save her dad's life? That was doable.

Besides – she'd Seen more. The new outlook given to her by Firenze's unrelenting wisdom allowed her to See things like she never had before. If they didn't go to the Ministry this week…the Ministry would continue to ignore Voldemort was back. But by luring the dark wizard out into a big, noisy battle in the one place they couldn't possibly deny his existence – well, they would have no choice but to admit what the rest of them had known all along.

Voldemort was back. And they were at war.

She wasn't certain of when Harry would get this vision, exactly, but she knew that the moment he did, he would come to her. And she was right about that.

Winona was in a forgotten corridor with her sketchbook open in front of her and a stick of charcoal hovering above the pristine page. She wasn't drawing, but instead staring out into the mountains across the valley, her head a swirl of maybes and potentially's and never-ever-wills. She was jerked from her distant stupor by a hand slapping against her shoulder and shaking her.

She turned, reaching for her wand in one smooth move, only to realise it was just Harry, looking stricken and entirely out of breath. "Harry? What's wrong? What's the matter?" she demanded.

"He has Sirius," Harry panted, white in the face despite his flat out sprint to reach her. "Voldemort has him – behind the door I've been seeing, at the Department of Mysteries. He's torturing him! How do we get there? How do we get to the Ministry? Can we take the Knight Bus?"

"Harry," she said as calmly as she could manage. "You need to calm down."

He looked offended. "Calm-? Winnie, Voldemort has your dad! He's going to kill him! I saw it myself!"

"Okay," she said, already packing away her things. "Let's go."

"Wait – I need Hermione – and Ron! We can't go alone. You and me, we're no match for him if it's just us!"

"Okay," she said patiently, gripping the strap of her bag to hide the way her hands trembled. Suddenly this wasn't seeming as easy as she'd imagined it being. To ensure things happened as they must, she couldn't tell Harry the truth about Sirius. And seeing Harry so panicked and having to lie to his face about it produced guilt sitting curdled like milk in her stomach. "Let's go get them."

Harry didn't question why she seemed so calm – probably because he, himself, was a complete mess. Winona didn't have to act entirely, however. The pallor of her complexion and the circles under her eyes were completely real, and she didn't have to fake the sick look on her face as they found Ron and Hermione and forced them into an abandoned classroom.

"Voldemort's got Sirius," he said without preamble.

Hermione and Ron stared at him like he'd gone completely barmy. "What?" asked Hermione hoarsely.

"I saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."

"But – but where? How?"

"I dunno how," said Harry, coming across rude in his impatience, although neither seemed to really mind. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls and they're at the end of row ninety-seven … he's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there … he's torturing him … says he'll end by killing him!"

He was shaking all over and quickly made it to the nearest desk before he collapsed where he stood. Winona followed him, pressing her hands to his trembling shoulders, hoping the pressure might help soothe him.

Ron and Hermione looked at Winona expectantly. She didn't want to lie – she wouldn't lie – but she also couldn't tell the truth. Her dad's life hung in the balance. "We have to get there," she told them grimly – a skewed truth.

Now Ron looked at her like she'd gone barmy. "G-get there?"

"Get to the Department of Mysteries, so we can rescue Sirius!" Harry said loudly, almost shouting the words into the quiet of the disused classroom. Ron and Hermione exchanged a wary look that was fraught with tension, and Winona focused on the ache in her brow as she frowned, trying to keep herself calm.

"But – Harry…" Ron finally began, only to trail off uncertainly.

"What?"

"Harry," said Hermione in a rather frightened voice, "…er … how … how did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody realising he was there?"

"How do I know?" shouted Harry. "The question is how we're going to get in there!"

"But … Harry, think about this," said Hermione rationally, ignoring the way Harry's eyes flashed, "it's five o'clock in the afternoon … the Ministry of Magic must be full of workers … how would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? Harry … they're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world … you think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?"

Winona was impressed by her cool logic, but she couldn't let it show. She gripped her cousin's trembling shoulders and scowled at a scuff mark on the floor.

"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry shouted impatiently. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been-"

"You've never been there, Harry," said Hermione, quiet and gentle, like she were trying to soothe a raging beast in one of Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures classes. "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."

"They're not normal dreams!" Harry all but screamed, shooting to his feet and knocking Winona's hands from his shoulders in a rage. "How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what had happened to him?"

"He's got a point," said Ron quietly.

"But this is just – just so unlikely!" replied Hermione desperately. "Harry, how on earth could Voldemort have got hold of Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all the time?"

"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," suggested Ron, sounding worried. And it wasn't exactly untrue. Sirius was going crazy in Grimmauld Place, and they knew him well enough by now to know he'd never exactly been one for following the rules. "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages-"

"But why," Hermione persisted, "why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?"

Winona winced and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest and chewing restlessly on her tongue.

"Winona," said Hermione, and Winona reluctantly looked up at the younger student, whose eyes were ablaze with muddled confusion and desperation. "Where's Sirius right now? Surely you'd know if your own father was in danger."

And Winona knew she shouldn't snap, but it was all she could think to do. The only way to respond without breaking and telling the awful truth. "You've never put much stock in my Sight before, Hermione. Why do you suddenly care now?"

Hermione looked startled by the accusation.

"Look, maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt-" began Harry, too impatient to listen to them squabble.

"You know what, I've just thought of something. Your uncle was a Death Eater, wasn't he?" Ron asked abruptly, looking expectantly at Winona.

Curious, she nodded her head. "Regulus Black. My father's younger brother."

"Well, maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!"

It wasn't a totally outlandish theory, and it certainly explained things – even if it wasn't exactly true. Winona's mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and she gripped the strap of her bag again, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Yeah," Harry leapt on the explanation, "and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!"

"Look, I'm sorry," cried Hermione, "but neither of you is making sense, and we've got no proof for any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there-"

"Hermione, Harry's seen them!" said Ron, rounding on Hermione with a frown. "And Winnie says they are, too!"

"Except she hasn't!" Hermione said. Winona went stiff and clenched her jaw. Sometimes Hermione could be too clever for even her own good. Befuddled enough by the comment to break him from his mania, Harry turned to Winona with wide eyes.

Winona's jaw was set, and she figured did the only thing she could think to do. "We have to go to the Ministry," she said, the words as hard and as ugly as concrete.

Hermione frowned. "That doesn't answer the question."

"Hermione, just stop, okay?!" Harry shouted. "She's already said he's there. We need to figure out how we're getting-"

"Harry, something doesn't feel right-"

"I don't care," snarled Harry. "Sirius is in trouble and we're wasting time!"

"Okay," she said finally, looking frightened but also determined – a Gryffindor at heart, "I've just got to say this-"

"What?"

"You…this isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do…sort of…I mean-don't you think you've got a bit of a-a saving-people…thing?"

That was unexpected, even for Winona. They stared at her a moment, and she drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't terribly effective, but told them she was being serious, at least.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded hotly. "A 'saving-people thing'?"

"Well…you…" she looked more apprehensive than ever. "I mean…last year, for instance…in the lake…during the Tournament…you shouldn't have…I mean, you didn't need to save that little Delacour girl – you got a bit…carried away…"

Harry's face looked positively wrathful, and although Hermione's lip began to tremble, she didn't give up. Winona couldn't help but respect her for that.

"I mean, it was really great of you and everything. Everyone thought it was a wonderful thing to do-"

"That's funny," said Harry through gritted teeth, "because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time acting the hero…is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?"

"No, no, no!" cried Hermione, aghast. "That's not what I mean at all!"

"Well, spit out what you've got to say, because we're wasting time here!"

"I'm trying to say – Voldemort knows you, Harry! He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there. It's the kind of thing he does, he knows you're the-the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's just trying to get you into the Department of Myst-?"

"Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not – they've taken McGonagall to St. Mungo's, there isn't anyone from the Order left at Hogwarts who we can tell, and if we don't go, Sirius is dead!"

"But Harry…what if your dream was-was just that…a dream?"

Harry let out a roar of uncontrollable frustration. Hermione actually stepped away from him, looking alarmed and a tiny bit afraid. Winona thought she'd best step in, shifting between them before Harry did something he'd eventually regret.

"You don't get it!" Harry shouted at her from around Winona's shoulder, "I'm not having nightmares, I'm not just dreaming! What d'you think all the Occlumency was for, why d'you think Dumbledore wanted me prevented from seeing these things? Because they're REAL, Hermione – Sirius is trapped, I've seen him. Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him, and if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand?"

"But Harry – Winona isn't telling us everything!" Hermione exclaimed.

It wasn't an attack, just a mere statement of the facts, and Winona couldn't even fault her for it – especially considering the fact that she was absolutely correct. They all turned to stare at her, but when Winona opened her mouth to speak, Harry beat her to it.

"Ok, so there's something she can't say. That isn't unusual, Hermione. Remember that stupid Vow? If she can't say something, it's so she doesn't die! Can we leave now? We're running out of time; every minute we spend arguing is another minute Sirius is being tortured!"

"Harry, would you let her talk?!" Hermione snapped. She rounded on Winona, eyes blazing with the stubborn need for answers. "What aren't you telling us, Winona?" she demanded hotly.

"Lots of things," Winona said plainly. "But I can tell you that we need to get to the Department of Mysteries, tonight."

"Why?" Hermione pressed. "Is Sirius in trouble?"

Winona searched for a truth to tell. "He will be, unless I'm there to stop it."

Hermione could sense she was still holding something back, but Harry wasn't going to waste time waiting for her to force it out of her. "HERMIONE!" he shouted impatiently, losing all semblance of control.

"Fine, Harry, but what you said before," said Hermione fiercely, reluctantly dropping the topic of Winona's honesty – much to Winona's relief, "Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind, if you'd done Occlumency properly you'd never have seen this-"

"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN-"

"Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learning to close your mind!" she argued valiantly. Were the circumstances different, Winona might have cheered.

"WELL, I EXPECT HE'D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I'D JUST-"

The classroom door suddenly flew open, and the four of them whipped around to see Ginny walk in with a distant-looking Luna – which was hardly unusual for Luna.

"Hi," said Ginny uncertainly as they all stared at her, wordless and flushed. "We recognised Harry's voice. What are you yelling about?"

"Never you mind," snapped Harry.

Ginny remained unperturbed. "There's no need to take that tone with me," she said coolly, "I was only wondering whether I could help."

"Well, you can't."

"You're being rather rude, you know," Luna sang.

"Fucking hell…" muttered Harry in pure frustration, pacing away from them like he needed to breathe some air they didn't share. Winona raised her brow at the curse, but Harry didn't look at her.

"Wait," said Hermione suddenly. "Wait… Harry, they can help." Everyone – including Winona, looked at her in surprise. "Listen Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left Headquarters."

He whirled on her with a snarl. "I've told you, I saw-"

"Harry, I'm begging you, please!" cried Hermione. "Please let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London. If we find out he's not there, then I swear I won't try to stop you. I'll come, I'll d-do whatever it takes to try and save him."

"Sirius is being tortured NOW!" bellowed Harry. "We haven't got time to waste!"

"But if this is a trick of Voldemort's, Harry, we've got to check, we've got to."

"How?" Harry demanded hotly. "How're we going to check?"

"We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him," Hermione suggested quickly. She looked terrified by her own suggestion, but Winona thought there was little way around it. "We'll draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts, and that's where we can use Ginny and Luna."

Although Ginny wasn't totally sure what was happening, she readily agreed, while Luna asked who Sirius was, to which nobody bothered to reply.

"Okay," Harry ground out through gritted teeth, "if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I'm with you, otherwise I'm going to the Department of Mysteries right now."

"The Department of Mysteries?" echoed Luna, looking mildly surprised. "But how are you going to get there?"

Again, she went ignored.

"Right," said Hermione bracingly. "Right…well…one of us has to go and find Umbridge and-and send her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. They could tell her – I don't know – that Peeves is up to something awful as usual… Winona, help me here."

Winona blinked in surprise as Ron added, "Yeah, all those years glued to the twins, you'd think you'd have picked up something useful by now."

"The Peeves idea is good," she said quickly. "What's important is getting this done quickly. We need – we just really have to get to the Department of Mysteries, tonight."

"So you keep saying," said Hermione coolly. Winona didn't comment.

"I'll tell Umbridge Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something," offered Ron. "It's miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way."

Hermione nodded, a focused expression set like stone on her face. "Okay," she said, still pacing the length of the room, a woman on a mission. "Now, we need to keep students right away from her office while we force entry, or some Slytherin's bound to go and tip her off."

"Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor and warn people not to go down there because someone's let off a load of Garrotting Gas," Ginny offered. At Hermione's bewilderment, Ginny shrugged and said, "Fred and George were planning to do it before they left."

"Okay," Hermione said again. "Well then, Harry, you and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak and we'll sneak into the office and you can talk to Sirius-"

"He's not there, Hermione!" shouted Harry impatiently.

Hermione, still pale, seemed to go whiter. Ron frowned at the way Harry spoke to her, but didn't speak out against it. "I mean, you can-can check whether Sirius is at home or not while I keep watch," Hermione said quickly, shifting away from her friend's ire. "I don't think you should be in there alone. Lee's already proved the windows a weak spot, sending those Nifflers through it."

In that moment, Harry seemed to finally realise she was trying to help him, not hinder him, and some of the tension disappeared from the tight set of his shoulders.

"Okay," he muttered, unsteady from the sudden change in the room. "Thanks."

Hermione nearly smiled, but not quite. "Right, well, even if we do all of that, I don't think we're going to be able to bank on more than five minutes," said Hermione with a sigh of quiet relief. "Not with Filch and the wretched Inquisitorial Squad floating around."

"Five minutes'll be enough," said Harry. "C'mon, let's go-"

Hermione blinked. "Now?"

"Of course now!" snapped Harry. "What did you think, we're going to wait until after dinner or something? Hermione, Sirius is being tortured right now!"

"I – oh, all right," she caved. "You go and get the Invisibility Cloak and we'll meet you at the end of Umbridge's corridor, OK?"

Harry didn't pause long enough to answer. One moment he was there with them, and the next he was tearing off down the hall like he had one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts on his heels. Winona watched him go, telling herself for at least the fifth time in as many minutes that she was doing the right thing.

Hermione turned to look at the rest of them who remained, an anxious look on her face. "This is a terrible idea, isn't it?" she asked miserably. Nobody answered her, least of all Winona, but her attention still zeroed in on her with the kind of intensity seen only in the über-suspicious and giant birds of prey. "What aren't you telling us?"

Winona's responding stare was even. "If I can't tell Harry, what makes you think I can tell you?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she was slowly turning an alarming shade of pink that wasn't far off from red. "Are we heading into a trap?" she demanded hotly. "Is Sirius even there?"

Winona was proud she kept the wince from showing on her face. "Hermione, what happens tonight…if I don't interfere until the very last second, then I can save…" she trailed off, knowing she couldn't reveal that, either.

But Hermione was like a dog with a bone. "Save who?" she asked shrewdly.

"Somebody very important."

"Who?" Winona kept her lips sealed tightly shut, refusing to answer, and Hermione's frown melted into a scowl. She sighed, frustrated. "Winona-"

"You need to trust me," she said before Hermione could give her the tongue-lashing that was sure to be burning to escape. "Hermione, have I ever led you astray?" Hermione hesitated, looking uncertain. "I know half the time you think my Sight's complete bullshit, but I've never lied about anything, and I've never done anything but try to help. And don't try to tell me you don't believe I'll do everything – absolutely everything – in my power to keep the people I love safe."

Hermione stared at her for a long moment in ringing silence. Ron and Ginny exchanged a wary look behind her, and Luna's eyes were unfocused as she stared up towards the ceiling, tugging absentmindedly on the turnip necklace hanging from around her throat.

Winona held Hermione's stare, refusing to give, refusing to even blink. Hermione sighed. "Look, I know you'd never do anything to hurt Harry-"

But Winona shook her head. "You're wrong," she said, voice low and steady. "I would do anything to save him, even if it meant he had to get a little bit hurt in the process."

And at that, Hermione seemed to finally see what Winona was trying to tell her – that this was a necessary evil. That they didn't actually have a choice. That if they didn't go to the Department of Mysteries tonight, something much worse would take its place down the line.

Her shoulders sunk downwards, uneasy acceptance coming over her like a jinx. "Okay," she relented warily. She glanced back at Ginny and Ron, who nodded once, then looked at Winona with a renewed determination in her eye. "We trust you."

The corridor outside Umbridge's office was, thankfully, unguarded. But it wasn't empty. Students wandered past in groups, laughing and chatting loudly, one pair was even feeling particularly daring as they threw a fanged-frisbee between them like it wasn't explicitly banned from the school. They made quick plans in hasty undertones.

Ron would do his best to stall Umbridge, and Luna and Ginny would burst into a loud chorus of 'Weasley is our King' the moment he inevitably couldn't stall any more and they saw Umbridge coming. It wasn't a perfect plan, but they were running low on time and couldn't spare the minutes to come up with anything more fool-proof.

Harry arrived a few minutes after they did, panting for breath and clutching his invisibility cloak tight to his chest. "Got it," he said through gasps of air. "Ready to go, then?"

A group of sixth-year Ravenclaws wandered past, teasing one in their midst. The whole school felt light and open, now that exams were done with and there was little left to do but enjoy their time with friends. Hermione glanced at the Ravenclaws suspiciously, as though their conversation might have been a clever ruse to let them spy for Umbridge.

"All right," she whispered once the group had finally meandered past. "So Ron – you go and head Umbridge off … Ginny, Luna, if you can start moving people out of the corridor … Harry, Winona and I will get the Cloak on and wait until the coast is clear…"

Everyone immediately split up, off to complete their tasks, and Winona ducked into a small recess in the wall with Hermione and Harry, who threw the cloak over them to keep them hidden. With all of them under it, it didn't quite cover everything. If anyone looked too closely into the alcove, they'd have seen three sets of bodiless feet shuffling on the stone floor.

"Are…are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione whispered, her concern obvious. "You're still very pale."

Winona realised she was right – Harry looked pallid and drawn, and she reached for him, trying to take his hand in hers, but he shook her off and crossed his arms over his chest instead. "I'm fine," he insisted. Neither of them believed him.

The crowd began to slowly thin, Ginny spinning a story about someone letting off some Garrotting Gas in the corridor beyond. They believed her – which was unsurprising, because Ginny Weasley was an absolute force of nature in all things she did – and eventually the corridor was empty bar a small handful of seventh-year Hufflepuffs who were stood stubbornly at the end of the hall, and a first year frowning up at a foggy-eyed Luna.

"I think that's as good as we're going to get, Harry," Hermione whispered. "Come on, let's do it."

As they passed Ginny, Hermione whispered, "Good one … don't forget the signal."

Harry blinked. "What's the signal?"

"They're gonna start singing 'Weasley is our King' if they see Umbridge coming," Winona told him as he pulled Sirius' knife from his pocket and wedged it into the crack in the door. The lock clicked open with no resistance and they shuffled into the office as one.

As they stepped over the threshold, Winona held her breath. No curses came flying from hidden depths to injure them, but an icy chill shuddered down the length of her spine, and she knew instantly that they'd been found out. Harry – oblivious to the sinking despair in her chest – wasted no time in rushing straight to the fireplace, tossing a pinch of Floo Powder into the flames and thrusting his head inside.

The conversation was impossible to hear, but Winona didn't mind. She joined Hermione by the windowsill, gripping her wand tightly as she stared at the door, waiting for them to come.

"When they get here, don't fight them," she whispered to Hermione, who startled and tore her stare from the grounds down below.

"What?"

"Just hand over your wand. Use your brain, not your magic," Winona continued, ignoring the alarm in Hermione's eyes.

"They're going to catch us?!" she hissed.

"Hermione," said Winona, laying both hands on her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes, ignoring the itching under her skin that told her their time was running out. "I need you to believe what I'm doing is for the best."

"You knew we were going to get caught-"

"No I didn't, not until we stepped over the threshold. Just stay calm, Hermione, and be smart."

Hermione opened her mouth – probably to finally give Winona that tongue-lashing – but before she could the door burst open with such force that its hinges creaked dangerously. Umbridge stood in the doorway, all pink and perfume, a look of utter wrath on her face as she held her wand tight, mouth working soundlessly like she didn't know which curse to shoot first.

Finally she barked an order at someone standing behind her, and a small troupe of Slytherins wearing those god-awful Inquisitorial Squad badges burst in after her.

Malfoy went straight for Winona, holding her arms in a too-tight grip, a victorious sneer on his face as he squeezed her wrists like manacles. "Hey, easy now, cousin," she said smoothly. "I bruise like a peach."

Malfoy looked like the only reason he didn't spit in her face was because he had a Pure-Blood reputation to protect. "You're no cousin of mine," he snarled. Winona didn't bother responding.

She watched as Millicent Bulstrode pinned Hermione to the wall and snatched her wand from her hands. Hermione's eyes were round with fear, but when they met Winona's they seemed to grow a little hard. Winona nodded once, then scowled when Malfoy kicked her for daring to communicate with the other prisoner. Her knee nearly gave but she righted herself before she could fall.

All of this was fine by Winona, until Umbridge dared grab Harry by the hair, wrenching his head from the Floo and tearing it back at a dangerously awkward angle. Winona instinctively fought against Malfoy's grip, but she felt the hard tip of a wand pressed against her jugular and fell reluctantly still.

"You think," Umbridge was saying to Harry in a deathly quiet voice that masked a tidal wave of fury, "that after two Nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy."

Harry said nothing, glaring up at her with unmatched hatred.

"Now," she said in that awful, simpering voice, "I want to know why you are in my office."

Harry didn't immediately answer, and she shook him by his hair, making him nearly collapse under his own weight. "Don't touch him!" Winona snarled, but the words came out hoarse. It was hard to speak with a wand being driven into your throat.

Umbridge heard her all the same, turning to curl back her lips in an ugly sneer, before returning her attention to Harry, whose eyes were watering from the angle she was holding his head.

"I was – trying to get my Firebolt!" her cousin lied. Unfortunately, Umbridge wasn't buying it.

"Liar," she snarled, shaking his head again. Winona jerked against Malfoy's clammy hands, but she went ignored. "Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?" Umbridge demanded hotly.

"No one-"

"Liar!" she shrieked it this time, reminding Winona of the wailing banshees they'd studied in fifth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts. She threw him from her ruthlessly. Harry slammed into the desk, caught around the middle, completely winded. He met Winona's eyes from where he was bent, gasping for breath, and she shook her head once, trying to tell him without words to be careful where he stepped.

They were in a minefield now.

A large troupe of burly Slytherins burst through the door, dragging Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville Longbottom with them – all of them gagged.

"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forwards into the room. "That one," he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."

"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching as Ginny struggled, a look of sick pleasure on her ugly face. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed loudly like it were the sickest burn he'd ever heard, and Winona promptly stood on his toe with as much force as she could muster. His laughter cut off with a sad little squeak, and with a growl he wrenched her arms back behind her until her shoulder joint began to ache in protest.

Seeming to thrive on the chaos around her, Umbridge gave a calm, satisfied smile as she took a seat in her gaudy pink armchair, looking over them all with smug triumph. Her eyes caught on Winona and stayed there a long moment, and when she spoke, it was to address Winona scathingly.

"The Minister won't be pleased to hear about this at all, Miss Black," she tutted like it were a crying shame. As though Winona had personally disappointed her. "Here we thought you were on our side."

Winona drew herself up to her full height. "I don't work for you yet, do I?" she snapped. The room's occupants shifted, the Slytherins eager to see how Umbridge would retaliate and the others scared they were about to watch Winona get Crucio-ed.

But to their relief, Umbridge simply made a face at Winona, like she thought about as much of her as she did something she'd found in the gutter, and turned her attention to Harry.

"So, Potter," she began importantly. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes – Mr. Filch having just informed me so."

Harry didn't talk – and neither did the rest of them. They stared at her icily, though Umbridge appeared unaffected, leaning forwards in her seat, stumpy little legs barely reaching the floor.

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone."

The Slytherins laughed like it were in any way amusing, and Winona stomped on Malfoy's toe again. He hissed out a curse and stabbed at her throat again with his wand. Winona fell still. She knew Malfoy probably wouldn't kill her – but there were plenty of other unpleasant things he could achieve with a wand and a grudge to settle.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled in Umbridge's face.

Umbridge didn't seem concerned that Harry wasn't answering her questions. She turned to Malfoy, who still held Winona captive. "Very well," she said in her most saccharine voice. "Very well, Mr Potter. I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco – fetch Professor Snape. Vincent will keep an eye on Black."

Crabbe stepped forwards and Malfoy passed Winona to him like she were little more than an object to be held. Crabbe's sweaty, meaty paws clasped around her wrists like manacles, and it took a great deal of self-control not to twist out of his hold and kick him where it would hurt most.

Malfoy all but skipped from the room, leaving a thick, ringing silence in his wake. Umbridge turned her eyes to Winona, sitting forwards in her seat and eyeing her hungrily. "Now might be a good time to speak with me, Winona," she said in what Winona supposed was meant to be a matronly tone of voice. Instead it was like nails against a chalkboard. "You may not work for the Minister yet. But one day very soon you will, and you'll want that to go smoothly for you, won't you?"

Winona stopped concentrating on wriggling out of Crabbe's hold and cocked her head at Umbridge. "Are you threatening me?" she asked, torn between amused and curious.

Umbridge's smile almost gave her cavities on sight. "Of course not, dear," she said with a sickening giggle. "It was simply a friendly warning."

Putting aside that Umbridge was perhaps the least friendly person Winona had ever met, Winona wouldn't have believed her if she were paid to. Emboldened by her silence, Umbridge pressed on.

"To get far in the Ministry, you need to have people on your side… Friends who will help you along on your journey. Putting in a good word where necessary…making pesky problems disappear…"

"And now you're bribing me," said Winona flatly, turning to look at Harry with wide eyes. "She's actually trying to bribe me."

Harry didn't answer – he wasn't in a jovial mood. And neither was she, not really, but it was easier to make light of things than sink into the pit of despair that was clawing relentlessly at her ankles. Umbridge's lip curled back in another snarl, but luckily, before she could attempt any more unsuccessful interrogation tactics, the door flung open again and Malfoy sauntered in, a scowling Snape in his wake.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" drawled the potions professor. If he thought it strange that Umbridge and her inquisitorial squad were holding a bunch of Gryffindors and Luna Lovegood hostage at wand-point, he didn't let on, staring at them all dispassionately.

"Ah, Professor Snape," purred Umbridge, standing to her feet, a bloodthirsty sort of a smile on her face. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

Snape stared back coolly. "You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter. Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

Umbridge went red, although that was her only sign of reaction. "You can make some more, can't you?" she asked, although it sounded less like a question than a demand.

"Certainly," said Snape, perfectly pleasant – for Snape. "It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

Umbridge let out a squeak of indignation. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

At that Snape finally looked something other than bored, peering across the room at Harry, who stared back like he was trying to communicate something to the professor through his eyes alone. "Really?" Snape drawled, thoughtful for a moment before he dismissed it just as quickly. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" snapped Umbridge angrily, peering at Snape like he was being purposefully insolent – which, knowing Snape, was a definite possibility. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape, voice smooth and free of inflection, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling."

Despite the vague, half-formed threats spilling from Snape's mouth, Harry was staring at him desperately. Winona knew then that Harry had realised Snape was as close to a trustworthy person to which he had access – which was really quite sad when you thought about it – and was trying to tell him about Sirius.

"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge. Snape blinked like they were exchanging pleasantries over tea. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape dipped into a sarcastic bow that Winona might have laughed at, were it anyone else, and turned to leave. "He's got Padfoot!" Harry suddenly exploded, peering at Snape with all the desperation in his heart. Winona's throat went tight as she looked from Snape to Umbridge and back again. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape had frozen in the doorway, staring at the dark wood, refusing to look at them as he considered what Harry was shouting.

"Padfoot?" Umbridge jumped on the unfamiliar word in a heartbeat, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape finally, slowly, turned to stare at Harry. His expression was unreadable, and not even Winona could have told you what he was thinking, or what he would do from here.

"I have no idea," the potions master finally said, voice as cold and unforgiving as the winter snow. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me, I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Goyle, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

And with those parting words, he left the room with the loud, jarring slam of the door. Winona's hands tried to curl into fists, but they were slowly turning numb from how tightly Crabbe was holding her wrists, stopping the blood flow to her fingers.

For a moment there was only silence. It was loud and foreboding, like the calm before the storm, and Winona's heart quickened in her chest. She found herself wishing – hardly for the first time – that Fred and George were there. They'd have figured out a way out of this already, and by now they'd be on their way to get the job done.

She missed them like a lost limb.

"Very well," Umbridge finally broke the tense quiet. In a slow, deliberate move she pulled free her wand. It was short and stubby – much like her – and Winona felt her heart fall into her stomach at the sight of it. "I am left with no alternative … this is more than a matter of school discipline … this is an issue of Ministry security … yes, yes…"

She seemed to be talking herself into something. Winona hadn't Seen this happening, but she had a terrible feeling she knew what was coming all the same.

"You are forcing me, Potter… I don't want to," said Umbridge, shifting her weight from foot to foot and staring at Harry like a shark smelling blood in the water. "But sometimes circumstances justify the use… I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice…"

What Umbridge spoke next left ice in Winona's blood.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue."

"No!" shrieked Hermione before Winona could utter so much as a word. "Professor Umbridge – it's illegal!" Umbridge wasn't listening staring at Harry eagerly, like she couldn't wait to see him writhing in pain, completely at her mercy. "The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" Hermione cried, struggling desperately against a sneering Bulstrode.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge quietly. "He never knew I ordered dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same."

Harry gasped, and even Winona was taken by surprise. "It was you?" Harry demanded, looking pale in the low light of the fire. "You sent the dementors after me?"

"Somebody had to act," she huffed as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead, right over his famous scar. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow – discrediting you – but I was the one who actually did something about it… Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now." She took a deep breath and began to cry, "Cruc-"

"STOP!" Winona shrieked at Umbridge. Apparently her voice was enough to stop the crazy old hag, who hesitated, peering at Winona through irritated eyes. "Umbridge, I swear on my mother's grave, if you touch so much as one hair on his head-!" she shouted, struggling in Crabbe's meaty grip.

She couldn't stop thinking about the last time she was here, in this room with the threat of the Cruciatus Curse looming over her head. There had been nobody to protect her that time. She wouldn't let Harry suffer the same fate. And there was no worse fate – she would take death over another of those dreadful curses ever again.

"You had your chance to talk, Miss Black," said Umbridge haughtily. "So now, you must suffer the consequences of your decisions-"

"NO!" screamed Hermione, and another chill ran down Winona's spine, only this one wasn't of the bad variety. "No – Harry – we'll have to tell her!"

"No, Hermione!" shouted Harry.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's," she gave a stifled sob, "what's the point?"

And then she began to cry in earnest – or, at least, she appeared to. She laid it on maybe a tiny bit thick, covering her face with her hands to hide the fact her cheeks remained dry.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge in a squeak, eyes glittering with triumph. "Little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

Ron tried to keep her from talking, but the gag in his mouth made it impossible to speak, and the Slytherin holding him hostage thumped him hard enough at the top of his spine to make him groan and bend at the waist in pain.

"I'm – I'm sorry everyone," Hermione was sobbing. "But – I can't stand it-"

"That's right, that's right, girl!" simpered Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. "Now then … with whom was Potter communicating just now?"

Hermione made a show of wiping her eyes, but still kept her face covered, playing the ashamed card. Winona thought that, were the twins here, they'd never shut up about the performance she was putting on. It was, truthfully, rather amazing. "Well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione finally admitted.

"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly as everyone else in the room froze. Only Winona saw where this was going, sensed what was happening.

Half her mind in the room with them, half in the river of time, Winona saw the outline of something deep within the Forbidden Forest. She could feel her numbed fingers twitching with the to grasp hold of something, anything she could draw with. The image was a potent one, it needed to be translated…

Winona remembered her sessions with Firenze and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. She would not let this master her. She was the master of it. She was not a slave to her own magic. She could do this.

And so, eyes wide open, she plunged into the ice-cold depths of the river before her. The world split into two – there was the present reality, where Crabbe held her wrists in his sausage-like fingers and Harry was in danger and her dad was hours away from death – and there was the future, so many possibilities glittering and swirling around her like currents in the river.

Usually she could only experience one at a time. But now she experienced both, staring out at the room while also staring inward at something only she could see. The fuzzy outlines of whatever was in the Forbidden Forest began to take shape.

A herd of something. For a moment she thought them horses, but realised quickly it was the centaurs that lived in the forest.

Hermione's plan was to take Umbridge to the centaurs. Winona had to hand it to her, it certainly toed the line between genius and stark-raving mad. It was exactly the sort of play the twins would throw a party in honour of – that was, if Hermione could pull it off.

Crabbe seemed to sense something was happening with Winona – maybe she'd gone too still, or maybe he'd just gotten bored without her fighting back – and so he kicked in the back of her knee. Winona broke from the river of possibility to flinch, collapsing to the floor only to be wrenched back up to her feet by the impatient Crabbe.

"Idiot girl," Umbridge was snapping at Hermione now as Winona refocused her attention on the conversation. "Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!"

"But we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face. It was a good show, but Umbridge was getting suspicious, Winona could feel it.

"Hermione, don't tell her anything!" she shouted to help sell the bit, only for Crabbe to kick her again, this time harder than before, and Winona cried out in pain as she fell to her knees and this time didn't get back up. Crabbe still held her wrists, and now her arms were at an awkward, painful angle. But she forced away the tears burning in her eyes. There was no time for tears. There was only time for action.

"Shut up, girl," Umbridge's sneered at her, then turned her attention back to a quivering Hermione. "Yes? What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We … we wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.

"Hermione-!" Winona tried to shout, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Malfoy. Stars danced before her eyes but she stayed conscious, turning her head enough to scowl up at her despicable second-cousin with hatred, eyes promising retribution.

"What's ready?" Umbridge demanded, all but frothing at the mouth at the false information they were feeding her. Winona looked at her now and saw a sad, desperate witch. She thought, were they not all prisoners being kept from the one event that would ensure her dad's safety, she might have even pitied her. "What's ready, girl?"

Hermione sniffled miserably. "The … the weapon."

Winona made a big show of hanging her head and letting out an anguished sob. It wasn't hard to make it seem real. She'd been lying to get the twins out of scrapes ever since she was eleven, and lying even longer about her Sight, and lying even longer about being happy with the way her life had turned out. The world was a mess, and the Slytherins appeared to have the upper hand, and tonight Bellatrix Lestrange was going to try to kill her dad – who she'd never even called Dad yet aloud – and so when she began to cry, it was real.

Umbridge was all but ready to break out into song. "Weapon? Weapon?" she asked, like a bloodhound catching a scent on the wind. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-y-yes," gasped Hermione, "but he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"

"What kind of weapon is it?" Umbridge asked, gripping Hermione by the shoulders, shaking her hard enough to rattle anyone's brain, but Hermione remained calm.

"We don't r-really understand it," Hermione sniffled again. "We j-j-just did what P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-to do."

Umbridge's smug victory was like a living, breathing thing in the room with them. She stood to her full, unimpressive height, and said with great importance, "Lead me to the weapon."

Hermione hesitated. "I'm not showing … them," she finally said, making a show of looking uncertainly at the Slytherins.

"It is not for you to set conditions."

"Fine," Hermione sobbed loudly. "Fine … let them see it! I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right – oh, I'd love it if the whole s-school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll, be able to s-sort you out!"

It was a brilliant tactic, Winona had to admit. She couldn't see what was happening around her – what with her eyes so full of stinging tears and the dramatic show she was putting on for Umbridge's benefit – but she could practically feel Umbridge considering Hermione's clever words.

"All right, dear, let's make it just you and me," Umbridge finally simpered, using the sort of voice one might use when speaking to a cat. "And we'll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now."

Winona stood shakily to her feet, only for Crabbe to shove her down hard. Her knees cracked against the stone floor but she swallowed back her curse at the pain.

"No, no, dear," sang Umbridge, her gaudy shoes coming to a stop directly in front of Winona's hung head. "You shan't be coming along. I don't trust you one bit, and I've heard tales of your proclivity towards using fists rather than wands. So uncivilised," she sniffed like Winona disgusted her. Winona shuddered out another sob and with a satisfied hum Umbridge turned to her brown-nosing lackeys. "You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these escape," she added to Malfoy, who agreed sulkily.

Clearly, he'd wanted to see this 'weapon' of theirs. Winona didn't even want to think about what he wanted to do with it.

"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge with a note of finality. Winona watched the room's feet as Umbridge forced Harry and Hermione in front of her, then marched them out of the room.

If Winona hadn't Seen the future herself, she might worry about them returning at all. But she knew the threads of time, and they were set on a collision course with the future now. Everything was set on its path.

They would make it to the Ministry. They would walk head-first into Voldemort's trap. And she would save her father's life, no matter what she had to sacrifice to get it done.

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A/N: Hi guys, I know this one was very canon-heavy, but it was really just setting up the next chapter, which is the Department of Mysteries chapter, and the one you've all been waiting for. You'll finally know whether or not Sirius lives… I can't wait for you all the read it.

Spotlight Review goes to: zikashigaku – thanks so much for reviewing! It was a super bold move for Winnie to make, and she'll be making plenty more of them in the future. Hope you enjoyed this chapters, and that you'll like what I have in store next!