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

73. Shut up and fight!

Harry, Hermione and Umbridge left the room, and there was a moment of silence as their footsteps faded into nothing. Then, reassured they were alone, Malfoy let out a cruel laugh. Winona stayed where she was, knelt on the office floor, her wet face turned down – as though defeated.

"Well, look what we have here," said Malfoy in a drawl, his shiny shoes coming to a stop below Winona's nose. "Never thought I'd see the day we'd bring a Black to tears, eh, boys?"

The other Slytherins snickered. Winona gave an exaggerated sniffle.

"Haven't got anything to say, Black?" he pressed, leaning forwards and pressing his hands to his knees as he crouched over her. "Perhaps a plea? You're a Pure-blood, you know? If you beg us hard enough, someone might take pity on you and let you mop the floors."

The Slytherins laughed again, uproarious, as though Malfoy were a comedian. Slowly and deliberately, Winona lifted her head from where it was angled at the floor, meeting her sorry excuse for a cousin's eyes. "Please," she said, voice breaking over the word.

Neville, Ron and Ginny all exchanged bewildered looks, clearly wondering what was happening. Winona looked over Malfoy's bony shoulder, catching Ron's eyes. They weren't the closest of friends, the two of them. Aside from Percy, there probably wasn't a Weasley she'd spent less time with. But Ron was the twins' brother, and he was her cousin's best friend, and that alone bound them in a way the Slytherins couldn't even hope to reach.

Years of awkwardly sharing the same room when the twins popped out for a few minutes, and years of playful teasing and laughter and sharing a bright, sincere love for Harry – it all meant that when she met Ron's eyes across the room, there didn't need to be so much as a word spoken between them. He knew the plan instinctively, and she realised she'd rather have no one else on her side for what they were about to do.

Malfoy cupped a hand over his ear and leant closer, that ugly smug smirk at home on his lips. He thought he'd already won, and Winona was content to make him keep thinking that until the very last second.

"Please," she whispered again, finally meeting Malfoy's superior stare. "If you could just find it in your heart, Malfoy, to please just…shut the fuck up."

Malfoy's smug grin disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion that was promptly wiped away by her forehead slamming into his. He cried out in pain and suddenly the whole room was a whirlwind of chaos. Someone on her team got hold of a wand, and with a shouted jinx Crabbe was letting go of her wrists and crying out in fear over something she couldn't see.

Malfoy had dropped his wand when Winona's head made contact with his. She ignored the blinding throb across her brow and snatched it up off the floor, shooting a Stunning Spell directly at Malfoy's chest. He cried out again as the red jet of light slammed into him, throwing him back against Umbridge's wall of cat plates, most of which cracked and shattered under the impact.

She turned to see how the others were doing, and found the fight to be over rather quickly. The five of them had an advantage – while the Slytherins had been studying nothing but the theory of defensive magic all year, they had been practising with Harry in the DA. So, really, the sorry lot never stood a chance.

Millicent Bulstrode was collapsed in a heap on the floor, while Crabbe had bat-bogeys flying around his head – no doubt Ginny's fine handiwork – while Goyle and the others were knocked out cold.

Winona turned to look at the others proudly. "Teamwork," she said cheerfully. Neville looked rather startled – she had, after all, been sobbing into the floor not thirty seconds ago – but he handed her something anyway.

It wasn't until it was in her hand that Winona realised it was her wand – all twelve inches of warm, supple hazel wood, pressed against her skin. For a moment she just traced the grooves along its body, feeling the magic within her hum happily as it was reunited with its voice. But then she realised the others were all staring at her expectantly, and she came out of her stupor and brought herself up onto her feet.

The world tilted and swam, and she turned to look at her gathered troops. "Anyone know the healing spell for a concussion?" she asked hopefully. They looked uncertainly between themselves and Winona sighed. "Worth a shot."

Her head was throbbing something fierce, but she had to focus. It wouldn't matter if she was missing an arm and half a leg – she would be making it to the Department of Ministries tonight. And nothing – absolutely nothing – was going to stand in her way.

"Where'd Hermione take Umbridge?" Ron asked her once she'd wiped away the sticky tears still on her cheeks and shoved her hair back off her face in its usual topknot.

"Forbidden Forest," she told him. Despite the ringing in her ears and the way the floor tilted beneath her feet, Winona turned for the doorway. "This way."

"What'd she take her in there for?" Ginny asked quickly, all of them doing their best to keep up with Winona, the oldest of them – abruptly crowned Reluctant Babysitter.

"Centaurs," said Winona succinctly.

Neville looked appalled. "But – they'll tear them apart!"

Winona clapped him on the shoulder and ignored the way the simple action made her want to throw up. "Have a little faith," she said, doing her best to sound cheerful.

Everyone else in the school was in the Great Hall when they passed. Winona paused in the entrance hall, listening to the laughter and chatter that floated out from beyond the giant double doors. She thought about how wonderful it would be to turn around and simply join them.

Lee and the girls would doubtlessly be crowded around the Gryffindor table, wondering where she was between teasing laughter as they celebrated the end of NEWTs – and the end of their life at Hogwarts. It was a heady sort of feeling, the knowledge that she could just waltz in and join them.

She'd be sacrificing her father to do so, but she'd also be sacrificing all the unwanted responsibility knowing the future had forced upon her. For a split second, she craved to be normal with every single cell in her body. She wanted it so bad she ached with it.

"Winnie?" asked Ron, his hand laying gently on her shoulder. She turned to stare at him in surprise, and caught sight of his eyes. They weren't identical to the twins' eyes – not quite as deep, and just a little too clear – but the sight of blue eyes set on a freckled face framed by fiery red hair was enough to snap her out of her beautiful, awful, impossible daydreams.

People were relying on her. Harry was relying on her. Her dad was relying on her (even if he didn't know it). And what would the twins say? She could almost imagine their voices.

"What's the point in being normal?" Fred would say the word scathingly, like it tasted rotten on his tongue.

"Yeah, if you were normal, we never would have even noticed you in the first place," George would add teasingly. Fred would slap his twin for the comment but laughter would dance in their eyes.

Wherever they were right now, she knew they would want her to fight. They would want her to be strong, and to do the right thing. And they were the first friends she'd ever had – the first people she'd met who made her want to be better than she was. And she couldn't repay that kindness by abandoning the people who needed her now…no matter how delicious that roast lamb smelled drifting out through the open double doors.

"Winnie," said Ron again, his expression folded in concern.

She blinked back to herself, standing tall and turning to look at the others who all watched her expectantly. "Last chance," she told them. Just because she couldn't take the out, it didn't mean none of them couldn't. They didn't have stakes in this; they didn't have lives resting on every decision they made. "You want out? This is it; the last chance you're gonna get."

They didn't even glance at one another curiously. They all just stared at Winona, intense and determined and maybe a little bit impatient. And none of them – not even Luna – had so much as a hint of a second thought behind their eyes.

When Winona smiled, it was warmer than any of them expected. "All right then," she said, clapping Ron back on the shoulder, silently thanking him for bringing her out of her funk – even if it had been unintentional. "Let's do this, shall we?"

The Forbidden Forest was as gloomy and eerie as ever, but Winona wasn't afraid. It was just the transitional point – a way to get from point A to point B. She was acting more on instinct now than ever before.

Like her head colliding with Malfoy's had knocked something straight in her brain, she reacted out of some strange foreknowledge that wasn't quite conscious. It was like she had a map to the future before her, but she couldn't see each step until she was at the one behind it, information flowing to her exactly as she needed it.

It was a heady sort of a feeling, and she fought not to get too caught up in it. That would lead to cockiness, and cockiness led to mistakes. Still, she knew which direction to go in to find Harry and Hermione, and when Neville asked how she knew where she was going, she sent him a scathing look that shut him up pretty quickly.

"So, if You-Know-Who really does have Sirius, how exactly are we going to get to London?" Ginny asked as they walked.

There was a silence that told Winona the children behind her were expecting her to answer. "That…is a very good question," she said lamely, pushing a branch out of the way of her face and wincing when its spiky leaves scraped against her skin. With her other hand she gripped her wand, the familiar warmth and shape of the wood calming her racing heart. The tip was lit, lighting their way through the forest. She was half worried something unsavoury might spot the light, but another part of her was sure she was on fate's path – and fate's path couldn't possibly end in a werewolf attack…right?

"You don't know?" asked Luna, sounding as distracted as ever, practically skipping her way through the underbrush.

"Nope."

"Well, won't we just fly?"

Winona paused long enough to look over her shoulder at the girl, her moonlight hair the same colour as Winona's, if not off by a few shades. She considered flying – but she didn't have a broom, and neither did Hermione or Neville. Harry did, but his was being guarded by a troll in the dungeons (total overkill, by the way) so she couldn't imagine that being possible.

They walked through the dark, and she could tell the others were growing skeptical that she was leading them in the right direction, but eventually they heard Harry's familiar voice shouting through the dark and she was only just able to stop herself from tossing a smug look over her shoulder.

"By the time we've done that, Sirius'll probably be dead!"

"Well, we can't do anything without wands," came Hermione's – much calmer – voice. "Anyway, Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?"

"Yeah, we were just wondering that," said Ron as they rounded the tree and came into sight of Harry and Hermione, who gaped at them in shock. "So, had any ideas?" Ron asked, handing Harry the wand he'd swiped from Malfoy's unconscious body.

Instead of answering, Harry gaped at them some more. "How did you get away?" he asked in amazement.

"Couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx," said Ron airily, handing over Hermione's wand, too. "But Ginny was best, she got Crabbe – Bat Bogey Hex – it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. Anyway, Winnie told us where you'd gone. Is it true you got the centaurs to get rid of Umbridge for you?"

Harry and Hermione blinked, still shocked by their miraculous appearance. Winona clicked her fingers gently in their faces, effectively snapping them out of it. "Umbridge?" she pressed impatiently.

"Uh, yeah, the centaurs have her," said Harry, coming back to himself. "It wasn't easy to get away, but Grawp saved us."

Luna frowned, maybe the first time Winona had ever seen her frown at all. "Who's Grawp?"

"Hagrid's little brother," said Ron quickly. "Never mind," he added just as swiftly, seeming to sense that explaining would only waste time they didn't have. "Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or-"

"Yes," Harry told them hurriedly, "and I'm sure Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to help him."

"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" said Luna again. She sounded so sure of herself, as though the answer were glaringly obvious and they all already knew it.

"Okay," Harry rounded on her with fire in his eyes. "First of all, 'we' aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that, and second of all, Ron's the only one with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so-"

"I've got a broom!" argued Ginny.

"Yeah, but you're not coming," snapped Ron.

"Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!" she said, jaw set and eyes blazing. In that moment her resemblance to the twins was startling enough to have Winona swallowing back the edges of her swelling heart.

Harry was already shaking his head. "You're too-" young, he was going to say, they all knew it – but he never got the chance.

"I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Philosopher's Stone," Ginny sniped back without missing a beat. "And it's because of me that Crabbe's stuck back in Umbridge's office with giant flying bogies attacking him-"

"Yeah, but-"

"We were all in the DA together," said Neville. His voice was soft, nearly lost even in the absolute silence of the forest. But his words carried weight, and Winona looked at him with new eyes. There was something about Neville, a sort of untapped potential hidden just beneath the surface. Winona made a mental note to think about that later on, when there wasn't so much at stake. "It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real – or was that all just a game or something?"

Harry blinked, surprised by the unexpected argument. "No – of course it wasn't-"

"Then we should come too," said Neville. "We want to help."

Harry looked like he were biting back an insult, and Winona sent him a dark look that went ignored. She understood he was stressed, and scared and anxious, but that was no excuse to be treating his friends like shit – she should know.

"Well, it doesn't matter, anyway," said Harry through gritted teeth, "because we still don't know how to get there-"

"I thought we'd settled that," said Luna brightly. "We're flying!"

"Look," said Ron, "you might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout wings whenever we-"

"There are ways of flying other than with broomsticks."

"I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?"

Winona slapped him gently upside the head and he whipped around to glare at her in defiance.

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can't fly," said Luna in a dignified voice, "but they can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding places their riders are looking for."

Confused, Winona turned to follow the path of Luna's stare. And, sure enough, between a nearby set of trees was a pair of spindly, skeletal creatures Winona was more than familiar with.

"Yes!" Harry whispered his cheer in an attempt to keep from scaring off the two Thestrals who had appeared like wraiths out of the dark. Their huge white eyes seemed to glow amongst the background of shadows.

"You beautiful bastards," Winona whispered much the same, lifting a hand to the closest one and stroking her fingertips down the soft flesh of its neck. The skin – if it could be called that – was cool to the touch, but the Thestral made a low snorting noise that she took be mean it liked being petted, and she dragged her hand over it again, feeling the throbbing in her head slowly beginning to recede.

"Is it those mad horse things?" Ron asked, and Winona remembered with a start that not everyone in their ragtag little group had the ability to see the horse-like creatures stood before them. "Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?"

"Lovely, Ron," Winona said snidely. "A very delicate way to talk about the memory of our dead loved ones."

It was dark, but she thought she still saw the tips of Ron's ears flush red.

"Yeah, it's them," said Harry, probably to avoid an argument. But he didn't know that an argument was the last thing Winona had planned for the night.

"How many?" asked Hermione quietly.

"Just two."

"Well, we need four."

"Five, Hermione," Ginny corrected her, scowling.

"I think there are seven of us, actually," said Luna simply, as though they'd merely miscounted.

"Don't be stupid, we can't all go!" said Harry angrily. "You're not involved in this. You're not-"

"Harry," Winona barked. Harry paused, blinking as he turned to face her impatiently, his expression hard as stone. She stepped towards him, lowering her voice even though she knew it didn't matter – everyone still heard anyway. "The more people the better. With them, we'll stand more of a chance."

Harry's glower melted into a troubled frown. "Against who?"

Her only answer was a sad smile, but he didn't need her to confirm what he already knew. He would be coming face to face with Voldemort tonight. She watched as he winced, reaching up to rub absentmindedly at his scar.

"We're running out of time," she whispered, meeting his eyes in the dark – cool grey against striking green – and he finally nodded.

"Okay," he finally relented, "but unless we can find more Thestrals you're not going to be able-"

"Oh, more of them will come," said Ginny confidently.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood, and we know Hagrid lures Thestrals with raw meat. That's probably why these two turned up in the first place."

"Okay, then," said her cousin with more enthusiasm than before, "Ron, Winnie and I will take these two and go ahead, and Hermione can stay here with you three and she'll attract more Thestrals-"

"I'm not staying behind!" hissed Hermione furiously.

"There's no need," said Luna. "Look, here come more now. You two must really smell…"

Winona looked over her shoulder. Half a dozen more Thestrals were wandering quietly through the trees, not so much as a stick cracking under their weight. They were silent as death itself, and Winona thought she liked them rather a lot.

"All right," said Harry with an air of great impatience, "pick one and get on, then. We've got to get to London."

---

The Department of Mysteries was just how Winona had expected it to be; and at the same time so much worse. It was a labyrinth of intrigue and danger. They found rooms of floating, bodiless brains and rooms filled with nothing but stale air. One door led to another and then to another until they were so deep in the Ministry Winona thought briefly wondered how the Muggles could possibly go their whole lives without knowing a place so large existed just beneath their feet.

It was creepy and hollow and gave her more questions than answers, but all of that was fine – bearable – until Harry shoved open a door at random and the seven of them spilled into the room beyond.

Winona expected to have some sort of a warning, a feeling in her gut like usual, to tell her that the room they were walking into was the room. But there was nothing. All she knew was that she was tripping into a random room that seemed like any other, and then she'd looked up to find the archway before her.

Stood high on a mound in the centre of the cavernous room, it was made from stone, with a barely-there veil rippling and shimmering in its empty centre. Winona's heart turned to stone and sank down into her knees, which threatened to crumple under the sudden weight. Instinctively, she searched the room for her father, but other than the seven of them, it was devoid of all life.

"Who's there?" called Harry, seeming to be under the illusion somebody was there with them, making the veil flutter and dip. He stepped closer to it, a magnet drawn to its other half, and Winona had reached out with an arm before she knew what she was doing, grasping the back of Harry's shirt in a fist, forcing him to a stop. "Winnie?" he asked, looking back at her with a frown.

"Don't get any closer," she warned him, half of her still searching the room. They were here, in the room where Sirius was fated to die – but where was Sirius? Where was the danger? Where were the Death Eaters? None of it was right – the only thing she could think was that her timeline was off. Maybe she had the sequence of events pressed into the wrong order. Maybe this wasn't going to be quite as straight-forward as she'd hoped.

But before she could voice any of her misgivings, a quiet muttering sound echoed throughout the room. The senseless whispers filled Winona's ears, and she felt her pulse begin to slow, as if the whispers were a lullaby and she were a frightened child being lulled to sleep by a familiar voice.

"Let's go," called Hermione from behind them, and at the sound of her voice Winona blinked, realising both she and Harry had been staring silently at the mysterious arch. "This isn't right, Harry. Come on, let's go."

But Harry wasn't listening. "What are you saying?" he demanded of the archway, as though its whispers would stop their meaningless hissing and tell him what he wanted to know. Winona forcefully shook herself out of it, gripping the back of Harry's shirt tighter as he took a mindless step towards the arch.

"Nobody's talking, Harry!"

"Someone's whispering behind there," he argued without looking away from the shimmering, barely-there veil. "Is that you, Ron?"

"I'm over here, mate," said Ron with a frown, appearing around the side of the archway.

"Can't anyone else hear it?" Harry demanded as the whispers became murmurs and he tried taking another step forwards.

"Yes," Winona told him. "But that isn't important."

Even as she said it, something in her brain whispered, "Wrong," as though answering a question she hadn't asked.

"Harry," said Hermione, voice turned shrill with panic. "We're supposed to be here for Sirius!"

And finally that – more so than anything else – was enough for Harry to shake himself out of his stupor and look at the rest of them without a haze over his eyes. "Sirius," he repeated like an echo. "Yeah…"

Then, as if the tightening tether drawing him towards the archway had snapped, Harry stumbled backwards, nearly taking Winona down with him. She managed to steady them both, holding onto her cousin tightly as she herself shook off the effects of the terrible archway.

Harry turned to look at her, pale in the low lighting of the room, and as their eyes met and he saw the question in their depths, he nodded his head once in answer. Nodding back, they turned to the others, who stared at the two of them warily.

"Let's go," said Harry, steadying his shoulders and leading the way back out of the room. Winona was last to leave, staring at the arch over her shoulder for a timeless moment, wondering how they were going to find their way back to it before the night was through – and exactly what she was going to do once they finally did. "Winona?"

Forcing herself away from the offending omen, Winona followed the others out of the room. Ginny cast her a frown, seeming to sense all the things that Winona wasn't saying, but she said nothing, turning to Harry, whose attention was on Hermione.

"What d'you reckon that arch was?" he was asking her, because there were few situations he'd found himself in that Hermione hadn't had the answers to.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, "but whatever it was, it was dangerous."

Winona agreed, and thought that maybe Hermione's sensitivity to the Sight wasn't as lacklustre as she seemed to think it was. Once the room had stopped spinning, Harry picked a door at random, only for it to be locked so tightly that even Sirius' enchanted knife couldn't open it. Harry tossed aside the melted blade, frustrated, but Hermione made he executive decision to move on. Ron was reluctant, but they all knew he didn't really have a say.

"This is it!" cried Harry at the next door, and they made their way through a senseless room into the gaping cavern beyond. The seven of them poured into the room, and a chill rattled down the length of Winona's spine as icy air prickled along her exposed skin and fogged her breath into clouds.

Shelves were stacked high all around them, rows upon rows of them. They had seemingly no end, the place where the outer wall should be fading into mist. Upon the shelves sat thousands upon thousands of small glass orbs. Winona recognised them instantly for what they were – crystal balls, exactly like the sort she'd spent countless hours gazing into under Professor Trelawney's instruction.

Another chill zinged down her spine and Winona crossed her arms over her chest. She had been so sure she just had to get here – that events would unfold before her like a carpet being unfurled. But now, stood in the middle of a shadowed room, surrounded with crystal balls that seemed to whisper and call to her like people hidden in the dark, Winona felt her first spike of true fear. She finally realised that the control she'd thought she had on the situation was nothing but an illusion.

And that they were – all of them – in some serious shit.

"You said it was row ninety-seven," whispered Hermione.

Harry nodded quickly. "Yeah."

But Winona knew they wouldn't find Sirius. And she knew that she'd led these kids into danger they couldn't possibly hope to defeat. And guilt was like a weight on her shoulders, sagging her bones towards the floor.

"We need to go right, I think," said Hermione, squinting to the next row. "Yes…that's fifty-four…"

Harry swallowed, the nervous sound loud in the otherwise silent room. "Keep your wands ready," he told the others, lifting his own wand up and held out in front of him.

"Harry," whispered Winona. "I think we should just go…"

Harry cast a bewildered look back at her, like she'd just spoken in a language he didn't understand. "We need to find Sirius," he said slowly, in the tone of a person reminding someone with amnesia of an important task that had slipped their mind.

Guilt was like a weight on her shoulders, and it hurt every cell of her as she carried it with them across the room. "Harry, Sirius isn't here," she whispered, reaching out to grip his shoulder.

But her cousin's face went hard. "You don't know that," he said, shrugging off her hand and stalking into the darkness of the room without waiting. Hermione cast Winona a stricken look – sensing what Winona already knew – but she ignored the younger witch, wordlessly flicking her wand to light its tip before taking off after Harry, the rest of them in cautious tow.

"Ninety-seven!" whispered Hermione at some point later, when they'd reached the right row. But there was nobody there – not a Death Eater, not Voldemort, and certainly not Sirius.

"He's right down at the end," said Harry, his voice hoarse. Winona's chest tightened and burned, and she was horrified to find her lower lip trembling. But she wasn't afraid – she was guilty.

"Harry," she whispered remorsefully.

"You just can't see properly from here," Harry insisted, already walking. They reached the end of the aisle, and still, they were alone. "He should be near here," Harry muttered, and she imagined she could hear his racing heart – but then realised it was only her own, each beat echoing in her ears like the deafening ring of a gunshot. "Anywhere here … really close…"

"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.

He was shaking his head. "Somewhere about…here…"

"Harry," said Hermione again.

He rounded on her with a snarl. "What?"

Now Hermione was shaking too, while the others all looked wary. Neville was frowning at the darkened rows like he expected something to leap forth from the shadows and devour them whole. Ginny held her wand in a white-knuckle grip and stared at Harry evenly. Luna was busy staring at something above their heads, but that was hardly unusual. "I…" Hermione began, her voice trembling and layered with gently sympathy. "I don't think Sirius is here."

Harry didn't listen. He turned and began to jog his way down the seemingly endless aisles. Nobody else moved, and then once he'd gone so far they could barely see him, he turned and ran back towards them, intending to search in the opposite direction. As he went to pass them, Winona caught him by the shoulders. He struggled against her but she ignored it, holding him tight and forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Harry," she said patiently, her heart snapping in two at the shine in her cousin's eyes. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"No, Winona," he argued, struggling against her grip. "He's here. You know he is. You said it yourself – you Saw it."

There was a beat. "Only she didn't," said Hermione. Harry was surprised enough to stop struggling against Winona's grip, turning his head to stare at Hermione in confusion. Hermione looked nervously between the two cousins, then took a deep breath and said bravely, "Winona never said Sirius was here, Harry. In fact, she did everything she could to make sure she didn't say it."

Harry's eyes glistened in the wand light as he turned to look at Winona with a befuddled frown. "But – Winnie-"

"We had to be here," Winona told him, her eyes stinging traitorously. Emerald green locked with stormy grey and held there, caught in one another's orbit. Winona bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling, but it was no good. "Harry, you have to believe me – no matter what was true, we had to be here tonight. Or – I thought we did. It's important – everyone will know the truth after this. It's the only way."

Harry's eyes flashed. "What are you saying?"

Winona opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm saying that the right thing is rarely also the easy thing," she whispered. "And for that, I'm sorry."

"Harry?" Ron's voice called suddenly, breaking the stupor that had fallen over them. Winona stared at Harry even as he craned his neck to get a look at Ron, who was stood a few feet away, staring intently at one of the crystal balls.

"What?"

Ron paused. "Have you seen this?"

"What?" Harry asked, shaking off Winona's hands in one smooth move and crossing the aisle to where Ron stood. Winona felt cold again with Harry gone, the air so icy against her hands that she stuck them under her armpits for warmth, fingers of her right hand still curled readily around her hazel-wood wand.

"It's – it's got your name on it," said Ron cautiously, pointing at a nearby crystal ball. Winona stepped around a wary Ginny and Neville, coming to a stop beside them to stare at the crystal like it held all the answers – and maybe it did.

"My name?" Harry echoed dumbly.

The label on the crystal ball had a date from sixteen years before inscribed onto it – Winona had barely been one at the time – and below that it read:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?)Harry Potter

It was enigmatic at best, but Winona's Sight conjured full names out of the initials.

Sybill Patricia Trelawney to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

This was it; the prophecy. The one spoken about in hushed tones at Order meetings. The members would stare at her as though she were the one to create it, and she'd had to tell plenty of them that, no, for the last time, I was only a baby when it was given.

Harry stared at it, and everyone stared at him, except for Winona, who stared at the crystal ball as well. Everything was suddenly coming into terrifying focus, and unexpectedly, not-Moody's words from the year before floated through her head.

"It would be nasty indeed to have your warning be the very cause of the thing you fear, eh?"

The words echoed and rang in her head, and again her knees threatened to crumble. Her skin itched and ached, like it were stretched too tightly over her skeleton, and Winona sucked in a sharp breath of air through clenched teeth. Nobody seemed to notice her horror, too busy pondering the queerness of what they'd stumbled upon – none except Hermione, who always had been too clever for her own good.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?" He turned to Winona then, eyebrows raised expectantly. He knew she knew. "Well?"

Feeling like someone had a hand clasped around her throat, Winona just hoarsely said, "I can't."

Harry glared, unimpressed and frustrated and impatient, and reached for the crystal ball.

"No!" Winona cried, reaching for him. Harry flinched away from her and lifted his wand to her face. Horrorstruck, Winona gaped at him. "Harry," she said, pain saturating her voice.

"What is it?" he demanded.

Winona sucked in another much-needed breath. "Harry, I would tell you if I could, you know that – but I just-"

"Can't," he finished bitterly, the gold flecks in his green eyes hardened like concrete. "Yeah, I'm starting to get used to hearing that."

Turning away from her dismissively – and breaking her heart in the process – Harry reached carelessly for the orb. "Harry, I don't think you should touch it," said Hermione tightly, then exhaled like she'd been holding her breath.

"Why not?" he demanded. "It's something to do with me, isn't it?"

"Don't, Harry," Neville begged him.

But Harry didn't listen. "It's got my name on," he said, then foolishly, stubbornly, recklessly, he reached for the crystal ball. It was smaller than Trelawney's crystal balls, back at Hogwarts. This one he could hold in a single hand, and he gazed down into it with hungry eyes, hoping it would give answers to the hundreds of questions weighing on his tongue.

"Very good, Potter," came a sneered, drawling voice that was familiar in the worst of ways. "Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Like black dye dripping into water, shapes appeared from blooming smoke all around them. Masked figures materialised on their every side, boxing them in like mice, and Winona didn't hesitate. "Confringo!"

She was hoping to blast him to pieces and create chaos they could slip out amongst in the process, but the Death Eater behind the mask was ready, and with a simple flick of his wrist he blocked the curse as easily as taking a breath. She took a hasty step backwards, realising rather suddenly that they were outmatched.

"Now now," sneered Lucius Malfoy. "How terribly uncouth. Although it's the sort of curse I would expect from a Black."

Winona lifted her chin and glowered into the mask's slits, his eyes shadowed within. "My father didn't kill those Muggles," she snarled.

She couldn't see any part of his face, but when he spoke, there was a smirk in his voice. "A shame, that nobody will ever believe you."

And just as quickly as she had his attention, she'd lost it. Winona swallowed back a curse as his focus slid behind her to where Harry was still holding his prophecy, staring dumbly at the danger surrounding them. Winona knew he was counting their odds – outnumbered two to one – and didn't like what he saw.

"To me, Potter," Malfoy snapped again, hand held out impatiently.

Harry swallowed loudly, one hand gripping the prophecy, the other holding his wand, its end aimed between Malfoy's eyes. "Where's Sirius?" he demanded.

Several of the Death Eaters laughed, but it was a piercing female's voice that stood out amongst the others. Shrill and sharp, like the edge of a dagger, she snickered at them like they were little more than amusing house pets. Winona's blood went cold at the sound. "The Dark Lord always knows!" she sang gleefully.

"Always," echoed Malfoy, with nowhere near the degree of unhinged giddiness in his voice. "Now, give me the prophecy, Potter."

Harry stood taller. "I want to know where Sirius is!"

"I want to know where Sirius is!" mimicked the same woman, like a child in the playground without any better insults. Winona's grip on her wand tightened, and she began flipping through curses in her mind, searching for one that might magic them out of this entire clusterfuck of a situation.

But she didn't have to be at a NEWT level to know there was no such spell.

"You've got him," said Harry, but he didn't sound so sure of himself. If anything, he sounded like he already knew the truth, and was desperately hoping there was some chance it wasn't real. A child hiding under their covers and telling themselves what was under their bed couldn't get them there. "He's here. I know he is," her cousin said again, voice trembling.

"The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo," sang the awful woman in a horrible, mocking baby's voice.

"Don't do anything," Harry muttered to Ron when his friend went still and angry beside him. "Not yet-"

The masked woman let out a trill of hair-raising, raucous laughter. "You hear him? You hear him?" she asked shrilly. "Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!"

"Oh, you don't know Potter as I do, Bellatrix," said Malfoy softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this about him. Now give me the prophecy, Potter."

"I know Sirius is here. I know you've got him!" said Harry, breathless with dread. Winona took a tiny step back, so her side was pressed to his. It was a lacklustre comfort, but it was all she knew how to give.

More of the Death Eaters laughed, the woman loudest of all. Winona's blood turned to ice.

"It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter," said Malfoy, that steady patience beginning to disappear, replaced by something both cold and hot at the same time. "Now, give me the prophecy, or we start using wands."

Harry didn't even blink. "Go on, then," he said, raising his own wand readily. The Death Eaters didn't attack, but it wasn't out of fear. Winona stood rigid, grip on her wand white-knuckled and painful.

"Hand over the prophecy," said Malfoy without flinching, "and no one need get hurt."

This time it was Harry who laughed, a hysterical sort of sound, like someone who'd just heard the most bald-faced lie of their life. "Yeah, right. I give you this – prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?"

Winona could tell Malfoy was scowling, and she knew they didn't have long until their stubbornness went from 'irritating' to 'unacceptable'.

The woman snapped out her arm, shrieking a Summoning Charm for the prophecy Harry still held – the only thing still keeping them alive.

But before she could finish the incantation, Harry threw up a charm of his own – a Shield – and the spell bounced harmlessly off the barrier he'd created. The woman paused, seeming stunned into stillness for a long moment before she gathered herself and began to sing, "Oh, he knows how to play. Little, bitty, baby Potter."

"I TOLD YOU, NO!" Malfoy roared at the woman when she lifted her wand to perform what was sure to be a very nasty curse indeed. "If you smash it-!"

The woman stepped forward and pulled off her hood in the same moment her mask collapsed into fog, Bellatrix Lestrange's pale face now bare for them all to see. Winona felt Neville go utterly still beside her, and with the hand not gripping her wand, she reached for his – a warning and a comfort. His hand was clammy and trembling in hers, but he didn't pull away – rather, he barely seemed to realise it was there at all.

"You need more persuasion?" asked Bellatrix, and as she spoke Winona stared at her, trying to find some similarity between them – some sign that unequivocally proved they were blood, that made it impossible to deny their connection. But there was nothing, perhaps because Bellatrix was hollow and gaunt from her years in Azkaban, or maybe because there was simply nothing alike about them at all – Winona warm where Bellatrix was cold, sweet where she was sour. "Very well – take the smallest one," she ordered the Death Eaters in a sneer. "Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

The six of them closed ranks around little Ginny, who was hardly defenceless but also the most at risk of them all – younger than them, smaller and less experienced. Winona stepped clean in front of the youngest Weasley, who she would lay down her life for in a heartbeat, and aimed her wand at Bellatrix, whose black eyes glittered with cruel excitement.

"You touch her and I'll kill you," Winona said calmly. It wasn't a threat and it wasn't a warning. It was a promise.

Bellatrix's eyes went blank a moment as she met Winona's stare, then she began to cackle hysterically. The sound was rather like someone beating a bag full of cats, and Winona's face hardened. "Would you really kill me, cousin?" Bellatrix giggled, like Winona had made the most hilarious joke she'd heard since breaking out of prison.

Winona didn't blink. "Without hesitation."

Bellatrix only grinned, catlike and amused.

"You'll be smashing this if you want to attack any of us," said Harry suddenly, holding the prophecy up just enough for them to see. "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

Bellatrix didn't move so much as a muscle, peering at him like she were trying to weigh his bluff. But, of course, it wasn't a bluff. Winona knew Harry didn't understand what the prophecy was, exactly, but even if he did, she knew he wouldn't hesitate to smash it into a million tiny pieces if it meant saving the lives of his friends.

"So," said Harry in such a casual voice that one would have thought they'd just sat down for tea and biscuits, "what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?"

A ripple of wary amusement from the Death Eaters.

"What kind of prophecy?" repeated Bellatrix. "You jest, Harry Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Nope, not jesting. How come Voldemort wants it?"

Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses, like rattlesnakes in a pit, and Winona's fingers began to ache from how tightly she was gripping her wand. In her other hand, Neville was still trembling something fierce. She half worried he would do something stupid, but she didn't think he was quite so blind with rage that he would risk them all just for a fleeting shot at revenge.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix looked like someone had just told her exactly where she could shove her wand – in very specific detail.

"Yeah," said Harry casually. "Yeah, I've got no problem with saying Vol-"

"Shut your mouth! You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare-?!"

"Did you know he's a half-blood too?" Harry plunged forwards, little care for riling her up. "Voldemort?"

Winona hoped he had a plan – because if there was a way of this mess, Winona didn't See it. In all her preparations for this night, her focus had been zeroed in around Sirius. She realised now her error, but she couldn't slip into the current of time – not when the present needed her full and undivided attention.

"Yeah, his mother was a witch," Harry continued on recklessly, casually, "but his dad was a Muggle – or has he been telling you lot he's pure-blood?"

Bellatrix pulled back her wand, such animalistic fury on her face that for a moment Winona wondered if she might forego the wand entirely and just leap on them like a lioness in the savannah. "STUPEF-!"

"NO!" Malfoy deflected the curse before it could reach Harry, bouncing onto a nearby shelf, the prophecies on it shattering on the floor with a ringing crash. "DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"

"He dared – he dares-" Bellatrix shrieked incoherently. "He stands there – filthy half-blood-"

"WAIT UN'I'LL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!"

Winona felt more than saw the moment Harry got an idea. He leaned ever so slightly against her – his anger at her evaporated in the face of a greater evil. Their sides pressed together, and Winona glanced at him, watching as his eyes flickered to the teetering shelves around them before they snapped back to Malfoy as though they'd never moved.

Winona nudged his hip with hers to tell him she understood.

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," he said, playing for time.

"Do not play games with us, Potter," Malfoy's slimy voice growled.

"I'm not playing games."

Malfoy leaned closer. "Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?"

"I – what?" asked Harry. He'd been pulled from his half-formed plans by the comment. "What about my scar?"

"Can this be?" asked Malfoy as the Death Eaters around them tittered. "Dumbledore never told you?"

Winona's stomach hollowed out, and she could hear the grind of her teeth in the back of her ears, loud and grating and one of the only things keeping her sane.

"Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter. The Dark Lord wondered why you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording…" Malfoy's attention shifted to Winona, and although she couldn't see the malicious smile on his face, she knew it was there. "I must confess, the Dark Lord thought that surely your dearest cousin would tell you the truth…"

Harry's eyes didn't move from Malfoy, but she felt his attention leap to her. Winona raised her wand a little bit higher, lip curled back in a ferocious snarl. "What I do or do not say is none of your concern," she spat the words like venom.

"But the answers to all his questions…and you've known them all along," Malfoy purred.

"Stop talking," she ground out.

Malfoy chuckled while Bellatrix cackled, the sound not unlike nails on a chalkboard. Winona could tell Harry desperately wanted to turn to her, to demand to know what they were talking about. But he couldn't – not now. This unpleasant conversation was going to have to wait.

"So, your Dark Lord," he said the name with great derision, "wanted me to come and get it myself, did he? Why?"

"Why?" Malfoy sounded incredulously delighted. "Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him."

"And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?"

"About both of you, Potter," Malfoy said, and if Winona's survival weren't dependant on keeping her eyes open and alert, she'd have shut them in defeat. "Haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?"

"Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me," he said quietly, not like a question, but like the answer to one. He steadied himself and asked, "And he's made me come and get it for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?"

"Get it himself?" cackled Bellatrix. "The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin, this disgusting blood-traitor's father?" she snarled, lip curled back at Winona, yellowed teeth gleaming in the wand light.

A prickle of forewarning shot through Winona like a bolt. It was Bellatrix. Bellatrix was going to kill Sirius – and she hadn't gotten the date or time wrong. It was still going to happen tonight. They were still on the precipice of change – either she saved her dad tonight, or she didn't. But she was the only one with the power to do either.

"So, he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?" Harry asked derisively while Winona stared at Bellatrix with a renewed hatred in her heart. "Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it – and Bode?"

"Very good, Potter, very good…" said Malfoy slowly, eyeing Harry like a cat eyed a mouse. "But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell-"

"NOW!"

For the second time that night, Winona didn't hesitate. And this time, it paid off.

"REDUCTO!" she screamed, firing the curse off into the aisle to her right. All at once, chaos reigned. The fragile crystal balls began to fall around them like dangerous hunks of perfectly spherical hail. Winona threw an arm over the person closest to her – Ginny – and shoved her off into the shadows.

"RUN!" Harry bellowed, and so they did.

The crystal balls continued to pelt down at them as the Death Eaters swarmed like sharks in bloody water, but none of them stopped. At some point a falling shelf separated her and Ginny, but she saw Ron grip his sister instead and knew she'd be safe enough. Instead she focused her attention on keeping up with Harry.

Throughout the bedlam, they managed to find the door they'd come through, and Hermione sealed it behind them with a squelching noise. Winona looked at the others, finding only Harry, Hermione and Neville with them. She didn't know where Luna, Ginny and Ron had gone, but there wasn't any space to worry about that now.

"Where – where are the others?" gasped Harry, bent at the waist and nursing a growing bruise at his temple. Winona stepped towards him, relieved when he didn't pull away – although he was probably just too exhausted to refuse. She pressed her fingers gently to the bruise, which was rapidly turning a terrible purple colour, and she apologised softly when he winced.

"What do we do?" Hermione asked, trembling from head to foot.

"Well, we don't stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start," said Harry without missing a beat, finally batting a hovering Winona away. "Let's get away from this door."

They bolted for the door across the room, which would hopefully take them out into the rest of the department, and towards some impossible measure of safety – but before they could reach it someone shouted, "Alohomora!" at the locked door, and it burst open with just enough time for the four of them to hurl themselves beneath a row of nearby desks.

"They might've run straight through to the hall," said the rough voice as two Death Eaters spilled into the room.

"Check under the desks," said another.

Before Winona could react, Harry was there, throwing out a Stunning Spell from where he was crouched. A jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backwards into a grandfather clock and knocked it over; the second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and was pointing his own wand at Hermione, who was crawling out from under the desk to get a better aim.

"Avada-!"

Harry tackled the Death Eater to the floor, and Winona was about to run and help when the toppled Death Eater caught her by the ankle. She tripped, wand falling aside, but she was already twisting in time to land a hard kick to the wizard's chest. He coughed at the impact but didn't stop coming after her.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Hermione, and the Death Eater's wand was propelled from his hand, disappearing amongst the wreckage of the grandfather clock. Then it was just her and the Death Eater; no wands – only their fists. He stared at her and she stared back at him, taking in his wiry shoulders and ugly goatee.

Clearly, he was loathe to actually hit her.

"Come now-" he began, but she wasn't so squeamish. Her knee jerked up, landing a blow right between the legs. The Death Eater let out a deep groan and struck blindly with one hand while the other cupped around his parts protectively. Winona cried out as his fist caught the side of her face, a huge, gaudy ring splitting the skin, blood spilling out over her cheek.

But she didn't stop. She used the motion to collapse beside her wand, snatching it from the floor and shouting, "Expulso!"

A burst of blinding blue light shot free, and the Death Eater – still groaning and cradling himself gingerly – was thrown violently backwards into the wall. The plaster cracked and broke under his weight, and by the time he'd collapsed to the floor, Winona knew he wasn't going to be getting up again any time soon.

Hermione was right there, eyes wild with something that might have been panic, but could have just as easily been determination. Winona reached, grabbing her by the wrist and sprinting after Harry and Neville, who were further down the end of the room, dealing with the remaining Death Eater.

"STUPEFY!" screamed Hermione, hitting the Death Eater smack in his chest. He collapsed to the floor, and she quickly followed it up with, "Accio wand!" Harry's wand flew from a dark corner into her hand, which she then threw at him like a baseball.

He caught it with the tips of his fingers. "Thanks. Right, let's get out of here-"

There was a shout from a room nearby, then a crash followed by a scream.

"Ron?!" Harry yelled, turning quickly towards the source of the noise. "Ginny?! Luna?!" There was no reply, save the shouts and thumping of the Death Eaters. "Come on! "he cried, and they took off for the door that stood open at the other end of the room, leading back into the black hallway.

They escaped into a doorway that seemed to lead into an empty office, but before they could seal the door behind themselves, the Death Eaters burst through and hit them with a jinx so strong all four of them flew backwards. For a long moment Winona felt nothing – no air in her lungs or ground beneath her feet – but then she crashed into a desk hard enough for it to crack under her weight. The wood splintered around her and her head gave a terrible throb where she'd smacked it against the desk's surface.

"WE'VE GOT HIM!" someone was shouting wildly, and – dazed and bewildered – Winona muttered a quiet, "Shush up, will you?"

"Silencio!" cried Hermione, and the voice was extinguished as swiftly as a candle blown out at bedtime. With her head spinning and the world feeling unsteady beneath her, Winona gingerly climbed upright and tried her best to keep the contents of her stomach where they should be.

She wasn't sure how long had passed, but some time seemed to have escaped her, because when she was finally able to focus the world around her, she found two petrified Death Eaters on the floor and Neville and Harry leaning over an unmoving Hermione. "Shit," Winona murmured, and Harry looked up in sharp relief.

"You're okay!" Neville exclaimed, although the words were muttered around a mouthful of blood, so they came out garbled and indistinct.

"Takes more than that to get rid of me," Winona said, but the effect was lessened by the way she swayed as she walked. The room still spun and she could feel the urge to retch pulling hard at her throat, mouth full of saliva. She swallowed it back and collapsed to the floor over Hermione. "What happened?" she asked quickly.

"I don't – I don't know what spell he used!" cried Harry, distraught as he shook her. "But she won't wake up."

Winona pulled Harry away with trembling hands, then calmly reached for Hermione's wrist. It took two seconds to locate her pulse – used to it from years of monitoring the twins' heartbeats while they tested their products – and she sighed with relief to find it beating still. "She's alive," she assured Harry and Neville, who both wilted in relief.

They waited for her to say something more – maybe 'she'll be okay' – but Winona wasn't in the business of making promises she didn't think she could keep.

"Any word on Ron and the others?" she asked them, lifting her wand to perform the only healing spell she knew. It didn't work, but it was to mend broken bones, so she hadn't really expected it to.

Harry shook his head. "We've got to go find them." He turned quickly to Neville. "We're not far from the exit. We're right next to that circular room … if we can just get you across it and find the right door before any more Death Eaters come, I'll bet you can get Hermione up the corridor and into the lift, then you could find someone, raise the alarm…"

But Neville frowned, wiping at the blood that Winona only just noticed now was dripping from his broken nose. "And what are you going to do?"

"I've got to find the others."

"Well, I'm going to find them with you."

"But Hermione-"

"We'll take her with us," said Neville firmly. "I'll carry her – you're better at fighting them than I am, anyway."

He stood up and seized one of Hermione's arms, glaring at Harry, who hesitated then grabbed the other and helped hoist Hermione's limp form over Neville's shoulders. "Wait," said Harry suddenly, snatching up Hermione's wand from the floor and shoving it into Neville's hand, "you'd better take this."

Neville kicked aside the broken fragments of his own wand as they walked slowly towards the door.

"My gran's going to kill me," said Neville thickly, blood spattering from his nose as he spoke, "That was my dad's old wand."

"Keep her level," Winona ordered them, her own wand wand and ready in her hand, even despite the way her head ached and the split skin of her cheek stung with every twist of her face. None of these things mattered – all that mattered was finding the others, and getting to that room before Sirius, so she had even a chance in hell at saving his life.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry, eyes narrowed.

"My best," she replied without looking back at him. Wand held aloft, Winona grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. The room beyond was empty, but Winona didn't waste time breathing a sigh of relief. She just waved Neville and Harry through, trying to keep her eyes focused and her attention from wandering.

They reached the room that seemed to be at the very centre of the Department of Mysteries, and when it began to spin again she really did throw up. It wasn't pretty, but Harry and Neville were kind enough to pretend not to notice while she braced herself against the wall and retched. Hermione remained unconscious.

"You all right?" Harry asked once she was done, wiping her mouth with a grimace.

"Peachy," she muttered.

Accepting the answer for what it was, Harry looked uncertainly at the different door options before him. "So which way d'you reckon-?"

But before he could so much as finish asking, a door to their right sprang open and three people fell out of it. "Ron!" cried Harry, letting go of Hermione and dashing towards their other friends. Winona hurried to take up Hermione's other arm, and Neville shot her a grateful look. "Ginny – are you all-?"

"Harry," Ron giggled weakly, seizing the front of Harry's robes and gazing at him with unfocused eyes, "there you are…ha ha ha…you look funny, Harry. You're all messed up…"

Ron collapsed while Ginny was silent, sliding down the wall and holding her ankle with a tight-lipped look on her face. "Ginny?" Harry asked, dread in his eyes. "What happened?"

"I think her ankle's broken. I heard something crack," said Luna, the only one of the trio who seemed unharmed. "Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets; it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark-"

"Harry, we saw Uranus up close!" Ron giggled feebly. "Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus – ha ha ha-"

Luna ignored him. "-Anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny's foot, I used the Reductor Curse and blew up Pluto in his face, but…" Luna gestured hopelessly at Ginny, who was breathing in a very shallow way, her eyes still closed.

"And what about Ron?" asked Harry fearfully.

"I don't know what they hit him with," said Luna, "but he's gone a bit funny, I could hardly get him along at all."

"We've got to get out of here," said Harry firmly. "Luna, can you help Ginny?"

"It's only my ankle, I can do it myself!" argued Ginny, but next moment she had collapsed sideways and grabbed Luna for support. Hermione was so still in their arms that Winona pressed a hand to her stomach, relieved to find it moving – slowly but surely – with breath.

The door across the hall burst open without warning and three Death Eaters piled in, led by Bellatrix Lestrange. "There they are!" she shrieked with maniacal glee.

Trusting Neville could handle Hermione's weight alone, Winona spun tightly on her heel and threw up a nonverbal Shield Charm. The Stunning Spell her unfortunate cousin had cast bounced off the shield and hit one of her Death Eater friends in the gut. He crumpled to the floor and didn't get back up.

Bellatrix's smile was a fearsome thing, all poison and knife edges. "The little black sheep thinks she's a clever one," she said, gleeful again.

"I think I'm stronger than you," said Winona from behind her shield.

Bellatrix's smile – thin and dangerous and sharklike – widened. "Shall we put it to the test?" then she cast out with her wand. The blow of the spell against Winona's shield was powerful. Winona felt her feet slide backwards on the marble floor under the attack.

Bellatrix cackled and clapped her hands like an overgrown, overexcited child. Winona was breathing heavily, the force of the spell draining her some – but not entirely.

"Winona!" shouted Harry, and she knew in the way only she did, what he wanted from her.

Winona dropped the Shield Charm and turned towards his voice, throwing herself through the door her cousin held open. She hit the floor hard and the door creaked as another spell was thrown at her retreating figure.

"It doesn't matter!" shouted someone – another Death Eater. "There are other ways in – WE'VE GOT THEM! THEY'RE HERE!"

More Death Eaters came, the ones already there seeming to have called for reinforcements. Soon there were so many on top of them, and they still kept coming. Harry threw spells left and right, while Neville tried and failed to pronounce 'Stupefy' around his broken nose and Luna fought off three Death Eaters with a broken table leg she'd acquired at some point.

Winona seemed the only one who saw an end to the fight – and that end was a room with an archway and her father's grim fate.

And eventually, there they were, her and Harry, stood alone in the room with the veiled archway. So many months of planning, of worrying and fretting and reassuring herself that she'd know what to do – now it was over, and she was face to face with the greatest trial of her life. Would she save her dad, or would all of this be for nothing, and in the end would she be the cause of the thing she'd always feared?

"Your race is run, Potter. You and your filthy little cousin aren't getting away from us this time," sneered Malfoy, mask dissolving into smoke, revealing his pale and pointed face. "Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy."

Winona pressed back against Harry, but even she knew it was no good – the Death Eaters were all around them, pressing in from every side. She couldn't surround Harry, couldn't keep him safe from every angle, no matter how much she wished she could. "Let – let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" Harry cried, pushing Winona aside and ignoring the way she growled.

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," said Malfoy around a snarl. "You see, there are ten of us and only two of you … or hasn't Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?"

Neville arrived then, but it wasn't the saving they'd quite been hoping for. A nameless Death Eater caught Neville by the scruff and held him like he were nothing more than an unruly kitten.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" sneered Malfoy. "Well, your grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause… Your death will not come as a great shock."

It was cruel, even for a Death Eater, and Winona's hand gripped her wand so tight that it trembled.

"Longbottom?" purred Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy."

"I KNOW YOU HAVE!" roared Neville, and he fought so hard against his captor's encircling grip that the Death Eater shouted, "Someone Stun him!"

"No, no, no," said Bellatrix. She peered at Neville with a hungry look in her catlike eyes. "No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents… Unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy."

"You bitch," snarled Winona.

Bellatrix grinned like she'd paid her a compliment, then raised her wand and cried, "Crucio!"

Neville fell to the floor, twitching and screeching in agony. Winona remembered again that night in not-Moody's office, how she'd screamed and begged and pleaded for respite from the pain. Respite that hadn't come for far, far too long. She rushed forwards, only for Harry to catch her around the middle, stopping her from going to Neville – although she wasn't sure what she could do to help if she did.

The pain would last until Bellatrix decided to be merciful and let it stop. Winona raised her wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Bellatrix's gnarled, twisted stick of a wand flew from her hand and clattered to the floor somewhere nearby. Bellatrix turned to snarl at her like some kind of wild animal, fury written into the delicate lines of what would otherwise be a beautiful face. A Stunning Spell sat ready on Winona's tongue, but before she could cast it her wand slipped from her hand, shooting across the room to land in a distant corner.

Harry's arms tightened around Winona's waist as Bellatrix retrieved her wand, a cruel snarl on her face. "The black sheep wants to play," she sneered, lifting her wand to the space between Winona's eyes, her own eyes promising death.

"Avada-" But before she could cast the dark curse, Malfoy threw out a hand, calm and in control. Bellatrix froze with a hideous sneer on her face, eyeing Malfoy – her brother-in-law, Winona realised with a blink, because they were all connected in this vast and complicated world – with obvious disdain.

"We needn't kill the girl," Malfoy drawled, eyeing Winona thoughtfully, like they had all the time in the world. "The Dark Lord, after all, has great plans for her. He wants her in one, pretty little piece."

An ice-cold shiver shuddered down the length of Winona's spine. Heart in her throat, making it hard to breathe, Winona could only grit her teeth and try to keep her temper. Try not to think about Voldemort, or his plans, or why they involved her looking pretty. Harry's arm, which had yet to leave her waist, tightened at the unspoken threat.

"Oh, you ruin all my fun," simpered Bellatrix, sauntering forwards. "Fine. The girl doesn't die. But that doesn't mean we can't have our fun with her in the meantime…"

Malfoy's thin, pale lips twitched like he found her comment funny. Winona's breath caught in her throat, and she'd never felt the absence of her wand so intently. The loss of it ached like a missing limb, and her heart cracked as her fingers curled around nothing but air.

"Well, I suppose you have a point…" Malfoy made another lazy gesture – permission for Bellatrix to torture her. It was so simple, a flick of his wrist. Winona wondered how the hell he lived with himself, then decided she didn't want to know. Didn't want to put herself into the maniac's brain for more than a second. Some people were just rotten inside, and there was nothing to be done about it.

Sharklike smile brimming with sadistic pleasure, Bellatrix lifted her wand, narrow lips already forming the damning sounds of Cr-

"Wait!" shouted Harry, holding up the prophecy with the hand not holding her back – like even now he worried she'd break free and punch Malfoy clean across the face – wand or no.

Bellatrix froze again, but this time it was with triumph in her eyes. Winona struggled not to shut hers in defeat. Because Harry had made a terrible mistake – he'd revealed exactly how much she meant to him. She was his weakness, just as he was hers, and now every Death Eater in the room knew it.

"Harry," she warned him in a hiss. "Shut up."

But her stupid cousin wasn't listening. He let go of her with such unexpected force that it sent her stumbling away from him, his other hand outstretched with the glowing crystal ball in its centre.

Victory in his milky eyes, Malfoy jumped forwards to snatch the prophecy from his hand. But before he could make contact the doors high above them burst open and five people sprinted unexpectedly into the room.

Lupin, Moody, Tonks, Kingsley and – damningly – her dad.

Chaos erupted, and Winona flicked her eyes to her wand, laid forgotten in a corner across the room. The Death Eaters weren't smart enough to pick it up off the floor, but she also wasn't fast enough to reach it before their spells would undoubtably hit her. It was an impossible situation – how could she save her dad without it?

Compromising, Winona threw herself sideways and crawled along the floor to reach the others, who were splayed on the floor, trembling like terrified rabbits. Not that she blamed them – her own heart raced so fast she thought it might kill her.

"Are you okay?" Harry was shouting to Neville, who was uncurling from the fetal position he'd assumed under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Yes," Neville said, quiet and unconvincing. He had a haunted look in his eyes, but there were bigger things to worry about.

"Harry – my wand!" Winona hissed at her cousin, who blinked as if coming out of a daze and turned in the general direction of her wand.

"Accio wand!" he shouted, the sound nearly lost amongst the battle happening above them. Her wand came shooting out of the shadows, and she plucked it from the air before he could so much as think to reach for it.

Her heart was telling her to join the battle, but she couldn't just leave Harry without a word. She surged forwards, gripping her cousin by his shirt and pulling him in close. "Get everyone together and get out," she ordered him. "No matter what you see – no matter what you hear – you get the hell out."

She knew his protests before he opened his mouth. "Winnie-"

"Now!" she bellowed, all but throwing him in the direction of the door.

And that was all the time, all the attention she could spare. Because with every white-hot pump of her heart, Sirius grew closer and closer to his demise. She was the only one who knew – the only one with the ability to stop it.

So before Harry could argue and try to force her to follow him, she launched herself up the stairs and into the pandemonium above.

Winona had been in a lot of bad situations. She'd been hit and beaten and shouted at. She'd been in more than her fair share of fights – some she'd won, others she very much hadn't. She'd been in the middle of arguments and been on the sidelines clutching a pillow and trying not to cry.

But nothing compared to the utter chaos happening in the Department of Mysteries. She realised, with something of a swoop in her belly, that this wasn't a punch up with a Slytherin in the Charms hallway, and this wasn't an argument with a foster parent larger than she'd ever be. This wasn't just a battle – it was the beginning of a war, where every single step she took – every choice and every decision – meant the difference between life and death.

But Winona didn't allow herself to think about that long, because she knew it would get her killed. She might never have been in a war, but she'd been in enough fights to know that when things got dangerous, the only thing she could rely on were her instincts.

So she stopped thinking and started just acting, letting instincts she didn't have a name for take over. A phantom pain at her right shoulder – like an echo of a curse that hadn't yet been cast – and she lunged, darting to the left moments before a red-coloured jet of light flew past her shoulder. A crackle of soon-to-be heat across her face, and she collapsed to her knees just in time to miss a flare of hot light from a snarling Death Eater's wand.

It was strange, the way battle made things quiet. One moment it was chaos, and the next it was all quiet, just the furious thumping of her heartbeat and a distant rushing noise in her ears that she knew had to be Time, the current of the river that lived within her.

Her dad was like a beacon across the room, drawing her ever closer to where he took on a tall Death Eater on his own, jets of burning colour shooting between their wands like the fireworks she'd always associated with love and joy. But there was none of that in the room – nothing but bloodlust and fury and desperation.

Something hit her hard, knocking her off course, and Winona whirled around to land a punch on her attacker. Her knuckles met the shiny silver of the Death Eater's tacky mask and blinding pain shuddered along the bones of her arm. The Death Eater reared back in shock, and despite the agony Winona knew when to take advantage of an opportunity.

She threw a Stunning Spell at him with such force that he shot back against the wall, leaving a dent before he slid to the floor. She didn't stop long enough to see if he was down for the count. Either he'd attack her again or he wouldn't – she was too busy fighting her way through the bedlam to reach her dad, whose time was running out with more speed than anyone knew.

But the Death Eaters weren't about to let her wander, and she felt a sizzle of aching heat just in time to throw up a hasty Shield Charm, watching as a purple-coloured curse rebounded off her shield and hit one of the Death Eaters across the room. The one who'd cast the spell – Dolohov, she thought, knowing the face now that it was without its mask – sneered at her and threw another fiery curse that she just barely blocked in time.

Suddenly her world became fighting Dolohov, the worry over her dad slipping to the side in her desperate fight for survival. Her panic was there, pulse pumping the word dad, dad, dad, through her head like a song. If she didn't save him, she wasn't sure what she'd do. What she'd become. But she couldn't just turn her back on Dolohov, whose ugly face was curled in a vicious sneer as they fought.

Curse after curse he threw at her, and Winona could do little but block them, hardly finding time to send any of her own back. She let out a ringing cry as a Slashing Spell caught her in the side, somehow getting around her shield, and she fell to her knees as her skin grew hot with her own blood.

Dolohov opened his mouth to inflict something truly terrible, and Winona could do little but lift her arms to cover her head as though it might stop the spell from landing. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but then the light seeping through her closed lids turned to shadow, and she opened them to find her dad stood in front of her, easily deflecting Dolohov's ruthless attacks.

For a moment Winona could only stare up at his back, mouth open as her heart squeezed tight like a vice. Then Harry was there, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her to her feet, his other hand gripping tight to the prophecy that had changed all their lives so irreparably fifteen long years ago.

On her feet once again, Winona ignored the way Harry was trying to urge her towards the door and flicked her wand at Dolohov, who let out a cry as her Stinging Hex hit him smack in his unprotected face. Gripping his face in agony, the Death Eater let out a truly thunderous war cry and lifted his wand to end them – regardless of Voldemort's orders – but then:

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted before either she or Sirius could move to stun him. Dolohov went rigid at once, falling backwards with a loud thump.

"Nice one!" Sirius praised him proudly while in the same breath grabbing hold of his head and shoving him down just as a burst of Stunning Spells arched over their heads. "Now, I want you to get out of here-" he tried to say, only for another explosion of light to dance across his face.

His expression wasn't one of fear, or even of desperation. He looked excited. In that moment Winona understood who her father was in a way no conversation could ever reveal. He was the type of man who enjoyed conflict; the type who got woken up by danger, rather than scared into submission. Her own short fuse suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!" Sirius finally managed to yell. "You too, Winona!" Then, with barely a glance at them, he took off – leaping over an outcropping of rock and lunging towards Bellatrix, who had just sent Tonks to the floor, pale and unconscious.

Harry tugged at Winona anxiously, trying to pull her to where Neville was sprawled on the floor. But it would take nothing short of a cataclysmic event to keep her from following her father across the room, and Winona shoved her cousin in Neville's direction.

"Go!" she shouted at him over the roar of battle.

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Winona was already leaping across the room, dodging a panting Kingsley, making a beeline for her father. He was fighting viciously with Bellatrix, their cousin shrieking and hissing as she flung curse after curse at them, a rainbow of colour lighting up her father's haggard face.

"I thought I told you to go!" Sirius shouted at her, his wand moving like a sword – an extension of his arm – as he fought Bellatrix with everything he had.

"Shut up and fight!" she shouted back without looking at him.

Bellatrix threw a Stunning Spell with such strength that Winona stumbled backwards a few steps when she blocked it, the force upsetting her balance. Her father was there, then – a solid wall of protection between her and the enemy. "Don't you touch my daughter!" he bellowed at Bellatrix, whose lips were curled back like a predator sneering at its prey.

His words filled her with a sort of glowing pride, and with that fuelling her she stepped around her father and flicked a Stunning Spell of her own at Bellatrix. The witch was quick, blocking it just in time and stumbled backwards from the strength of it. Her small mouth opened in a brief moment of surprise, and Winona bared her teeth right back, sending a silent but very real message.

Bellatrix might have been a cat, but Winona was not – and never had been – a mouse.

"You bitch!" snarled Bellatrix, a flash of flame exploding from her wand. With a shouted spell a wave of water crested over the flames, dousing them in an instant. Winona used the distraction to fling a Stinging Hex at the horrid witch. Bellatrix dodged in enough time to save her face, but not her arm. The hex landed and she cried out in pure, animalistic rage. Hell incarnate.

"Brilliant, Pup!" Sirius laughed. He was enjoying this too much, she realised, alarm bells ringing in her head.

At some point – Winona wasn't entirely sure when – Dumbledore had arrived. He was there now, sending most of the Death Eater's sprinting for safety. But not Bellatrix – Bellatrix just bared her teeth and fought harder.

This is it, Winona realised. The moment had approached with such relentless speed – but now, seconds away from her destiny, time slowed.

"Come on," Sirius shouted, and Winona heard the words like they were muffled through water, "you can do better than that!"

Winona watched Bellatix's grin turn sharp, then saw her thin lips clearly form the words Avada Kedavra.

"Dad!" Winona screamed, the word tearing from her mouth with such unforgiving force that she felt something in her throat tear and tasted the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Her dad's expression went slack with surprise as he turned to look at her, but Winona's eyes were on Bellatrix.

Her wand twitched, a jet of green light shooting from its tip, and Winona didn't have time to block it – didn't have time to cast a Shield Charm. There was no magical solution to the problem – but she'd come into this world fighting with her fists. Why stop now?

So, acting on instinct honed from years without magic – years of bullies both big and small, years of nothing but her fists and her wits to protect her, years of fighting to stay alive in a world that seemed determined to put her in the ground – Winona lunged. Her arms hooked around her dad's waist, and with all the strength in her body she threw them both to the floor.

They hit the ground so hard that all the air whooshed from her lungs and she felt a bone in her ankle crack as it twisted against the stone beneath it. She vaguely heard someone – Dumbledore – casting spells at Bellatrix, and looked up just in time to see the bitter witch snarl in prideful fury before she disappeared in a flurry of shadow and blood.

But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered except for her dad, laid on the stone floor beneath her, his chest rising and falling with glorious breath.

"Blimey, that was a close one," he said simply, the smile on his face effortless – no clue how close he'd come to his end.

Winona's only answer was a heaving sob.

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A/N: Hey guys – first of all, just wanted to apologise for going radio silence the last few weeks – my computer died and I had to replace it/work on retrieving all my files. Thankfully I was able to save everything (All hail the genius of iCloud) but it's taken a while to get back on track. I've also been hard at work on other things, but this story was never far from my mind.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've known from the very beginning that Winona was going to save Sirius' life; from here on out things are going to be very different, in more ways than just one.

Sirius is alive, Winona has finished school (there may be a graduation scene in the next chapter or so), and the world is calling. There's still so much left to do, so many places to go and plans to enact. I can't wait to bring you all along for the ride.

Recently we his 1500 reviews, and I was so blown away! This is officially my most reviewed story, and I'm filled with so much gratitude for each and every one of you. Your reviews have made me so happy over this last, difficult year. I'm glad I could be a light in the darkness, and hope you know that you were the same for me, too.

Spotlight Review: Janeth16 – thanks for your reviews, they've been so great to read over the last few weeks. I'm so glad you like the story. And don't worry about your English – I think it's fantastic. Hope you enjoyed!