A/N: Hey guys, thanks for all your feedback.
Be aware that I'm introducing another OC in this chapter. His name's Adam, and he doesn't play a vitally important role, but still he has a specific purpose in the story and in Winnie's journey. Hope you enjoy!
Winona hadn't been allowed to go to the Burrow that summer. She'd gotten in a lot of trouble for the stunt she'd pulled last year, when she'd run away in the middle of the night, leaving McGonagall to contact the Muggle authorities to assure them she was safe and at the Burrow.
She begged and begged to be allowed to go stay with the Weasley's instead of with her foster family, but her caseworker, a stern older woman named Agatha, told her in no uncertain terms that she didn't really have the right to go around asking for favours when she'd broken the rules and disappeared the year before.
So Winona sulked, spending her time either terrorising her foster parents, or writing to her friends and working on her art. She was in a new area, and actually made a friend or two with some of the local Muggles. Now that she had practise making friends at school, she was more comfortable doing so in the 'real world'.
Their names were Polly and Noah, and they introduced her into the world of graffiti. Maybe they weren't the best influences in the world, but Winona had grown up surrounded by abusive foster parents, so she figured the damage had already been long since done.
Polly and Noah were a year older than her, both fourteen. They were just as angry with the world as she was, coping the only way they knew how – misbehaving.
Once she was told she couldn't go see the Weasley's, that was when things got really bad.
Three fights and one police intervention later, she was put on house arrest by her foster parents and told that if she left she'd be getting a beating so intense she'd be confined to a wheelchair for weeks. She didn't listen, but they also didn't follow through with the threat, so she figured they were just all rotten liars.
She was so eager to get to the train on September 1st that she arrived nearly an hour early. She had her pick of the compartments, and once she'd chosen one she curled up against the window and trailed her fingertips across the sketches she'd made over the Summer. She'd had three episodes over break, resulting in three different sketches, each more confusing than the last.
The first was of a mirror, regal looking and empty. Along the top read The Mirror of Erised, but beyond that she had no clue what it was meant to mean. Next was a hole full of some kind of weed, vines crisscrossing over one another in a pit of Devil's Snare – they'd learnt about it in Herbology the year before, and Winona was only more confused by the picture. What did a pit of Devil's Snare have to do with her?
The last sketch was of Harry Potter. He was stood on the very platform she was sat at, scrawny as could be, wearing clothes that were at least five sizes too big for him. In the picture he was staring up at the train in wonderment, and just as she traced her fingers over the drawing she felt a prickle at her neck, telling her to look up.
Glancing away from her sketchbook and onto the platform, she felt the breath leave her lungs as she finally caught sight of the Boy-Who-Lived in the flesh.
In a perfect replica of her sketch, Harry Potter was stood just outside of her window, staring up at the train in shock. Winona stared at him, feeling like he was somehow so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.
It was almost like she knew him, like they'd been friends for years – but she conceded that perhaps that was just the constant visions talking.
Harry's eyes darted away from the train and focused in on the window, finding Winona already staring back at him. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she after a moment of awkward panic she smiled gingerly, raising a hand in hello. Before Harry Potter could respond there was a familiar voice shouting out from the door of her compartment, and she turned away in surprise to see Lee tripping into the room, clumsily dragging his things in after him.
"I must have checked the entire train by now!" he was saying with a petulant huff. "Of course you'd be in the last place I looked."
Lee shoved his heavy trunk above their heads with a grunt. In his other hand was a medium sized cage, something black and furry sitting inside. "Is that what I think it is?" Winona asked, intrigue on her elfin features as she peered inside the cage.
"Depends what you think it is."
"Why do you have a giant tarantula in a cage?" she asked, unwilling to take so much as a moment of bullshit from her friend.
"Mum wrote ahead. I got special permission to bring it along as my familiar."
She blanched. "You can't have a tarantula as a familiar, Lee."
"Who says?"
"Common sense."
He rolled his eyes and placed his new pet on the seat beside him carefully. Winona watched as it scurried up the side of the cage, a tangle of furry black legs. He unlatched the top of it, reaching in with a steady hand and plucking out the creature.
"His name is Tanglewood," he told her giddily.
"Is that so?" she murmured with a raised brow. She was going to say more, but a sudden scream cut through the pause, and both third years glanced to the doors to see a younger student standing on the other side, horror in her eyes as she screeched in terror at the sight of the boy's new pet. With a gasp the little girl stumbled away, trembling from head to toe with fright. "The entire train is going to know within minutes," she drawled. Lee only beamed proudly. "You're such an attention whore."
"Guess what?" he said rather than bothering to bicker back.
"I dunno, what?"
"No, you have to guess," he argued.
Huffing in irritation, Winona said thinly, "Lee, so help me Merlin-"
"I got a girlfriend over the summer."
Winona stared at him in shock. "You what?" she asked, stunned quiet.
"Yeah, her name's Siobhan, and she's smokin' hot," he told her proudly.
"Why didn't you say anything in your letters?"
"A guy doesn't kiss and tell," he smirked. "Especially over owl."
Rolling her eyes, Winona asked, "but in person all bets are off?" Lee only grinned, the expression wide and cocky as only a boy's could be. "Who is she, then?"
"This girl I met at a party. I think I loved her."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, we broke up the other day. Never been one for long-distance, not to mention she's a Muggle – it'd never work out."
"That's a shame," she replied idly, reaching out to run a finger down the furry coat of his new tarantula. "Get in some good snogging while it lasted?"
Lee smirked, the expression wicked. "Oh, you have no idea," he purred, making Winona throw up a little in her mouth.
"Gross, Lee," she complained, shifting away from him before he could scar her any further.
"You know, Ron's starting this year," he said conversationally, taking pity and changing the subject. "How much grief d'you reckon the twins'll be giving him?"
"Oh, I can't wait," she grinned widely at the thought of terrorising the twins' younger brother.
"He's totally got a crush on you, y'know?" Lee smirked slyly.
"Well, of course he does," she shrugged. "Who doesn't?"
Lee laughed uproariously, and that was how the twins found them, Winona rolling her eyes at Lee's giggling form. "And what have we stumbled upon, exactly?" asked George, stepping into the compartment after Fred, letting the door click shut after him.
"Winona was just telling me how desirable she is," snorted Lee.
"Did you two know about Lee's little summer fling?" she asked in retaliation.
"His what?" Fred blinked in shock. Lee huffed at the betrayal. "Details, man. Details!" he said enthusiastically, and Lee kicked him in the shin.
"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Good thing I don't see any gentlemen here, then, isn't it?" piped Winona slyly.
The boys all turned to her in rightful indignation. She snickered, leaning back against the window and grinning at them all widely.
"Enough about Lee's love life," said George before anyone else could comment. "We have news."
"Oh?" Lee asked eagerly, leaning forwards like he were preparing to hear the greatest gossip of the century.
"Guess who we've just met?" Fred began eagerly, unceremoniously shoving his luggage onto the storage above before collapsing on the seat beside his twin and opposite Winona near the window.
"Do tell," Lee drawled.
"You'll never believe it-"
"Momentous, really-"
"A complete shock-"
"Was it Harry Potter?" Winona interrupted them, running a hand through her loose hair, unable to help the smirk that spread across her lips.
Both twins turned to glare at her, less than pleased by her intrusion. She's stolen the glory of the reveal right out from under them and she knew it. "Why are you like this?" Fred asked solemnly, lips twisted into a frown.
"This whole Seer business can be awfully inconvenient," George added flatly, but Winona didn't mind, merely laughing to herself, bringing her leg up onto the seat and curling her arms around it in a hug.
"We're still on this whole 'Seer' thing, are we?" Lee groaned, the only one of the quartet not in the loop when it came to Winona's precognitive abilities. "I thought that with a new year we'd finally drop the act."
Dumbledore had given her very strict orders – nobody but the twins could know of her gift (and that was only because she'd been awfully clear that leaving them out of the loop simply wasn't an option). Winona felt horrible about lying to her other friends, but the twins had come up with an ingenious plan; they made it seem like a joke, chuckling about her knowing the outcome of a Quidditch match, or what colour robes Dumbledore would wear on any particular day. She was usually right, but Lee had always been somewhat of a skeptic.
"It's pure luck," he would insist with a snort. "I'll believe she's a Seer the day I see some undeniable proof."
It was a happy medium. This way she wasn't lying, in fact she was actually telling the complete and utter truth – It just meant he didn't believe her. Which was more his own fault than hers, really, if they were playing in technicalities.
It wasn't the best plan, but it helped her sleep a little easier at night.
"So, what's he like?" Lee barrelled on, never one to dwell. "Does he seem powerful in person? Is he tall for his age, and strong?" he asked excitedly, making the twins snigger while Winona just chuckled under her breath, rolling her eyes at the lot of them.
"He's massive, actually!" George declared brightly.
"Large as a whale!" Fred added eagerly, nodding his head so hard that Winona worried it might fall off his neck. His attention was half on the tarantula in the cage by his side, attempting to feed it breadcrumbs from his mother's homemade sandwich through the bars.
"Be nice," she chastised them, shooting the pair a narrow-eyed stare, "and tell the truth." They shot her an identical sarcastic grimace, stubbornly not correcting themselves. "He's skinny as a stick – not that his physical size matters a pinch."
"You say that now, but one mention of that tart, Allison Leaker, and then you'll lose your cool," Fred murmured, and Winona practically turned red with fury at the name.
"That's because she's a blubber-covered hag with no higher brain function to mention," she spat, teeth grit together angrily, hands balled into fists at her sides. Suddenly she wanted to hit something.
The boys all cackled, endlessly amused by her hatred for the girl. Rolling her eyes hard enough to give herself a headache, Winona shoved her foot into Lee's side, pushing him against Fred, though it stopped none of them from laughing.
Grunting with restrained irritation, she fished her wand from her pocket, flicking it sharply and whispering a jinx, grinning in satisfaction when they all yelped in pain. It felt immensely good to have her wand in her hand. Having no magic over the summer was torture. She adored the way the stick of polished wood sent tingles up her arm, and the sense of power that it filled her with. It made her feel complete.
"What the bloody hell was that?" George demanded, reaching down to wrestle off his worn old sneakers, dropping them to the floor and staring at them with horror, the boys opposite him doing the same.
"Simple biting jinx," she said proudly. "I read about it over the summer."
"You read?" Fred asked skeptically, knowing Winona well enough to know she'd never pick up a book unless it was at wand-point.
The truth was that she'd been having nightmares – bad ones. The kind that left her sick long after she'd woken up. She couldn't quite remember what they were about, and for that reason she knew they weren't nightmares at all, but rather a form of vision.
Trelawney had warned her that as her abilities grew her inner eye might 'open enough to allow visions when you least expect them'. Dumbledore had translated that as night terrors. She could draw these ones without going into a trance, seeing the great beasts and terrible deeds in her mind's eye without ever having seen them in person.
She wanted to know how to protect herself – her first-year Defence teacher was about as useful as a waterproof towel, and her second-year one had been so short lived, what with her leaving her position for 'family reasons' – so she'd ordered some simple spell books by owl, ones she knew would offer outside-the-box methods of defence. She was careful to stay away from anything dark; the last thing she wanted was to be caught up in the dark arts.
She was terrible at theory, and to be honest she just skimmed most of the pages, looking only for the spells or jinxes that sounded the most useful or fun. She hadn't expected it to work on her first try, though she had always been surprisingly good at the practical side of her magical education.
She opened her mouth to tell them this, but was cut off by an overexcited George who bounced into her field of vision, wide and enthusiastic eyes staring into hers. "You have to teach us!" he cried in delight. When she glanced over at Fred for assistance, she found him a carbon copy of his brother. "Imagine the chaos we could cause, Fred!" he gushed.
"Does it only work on shoes or can we make anything bite people?" his brother asked, looking like he desperately wished he had a piece of parchment and a quill to scribble it all down.
"How long does it last?"
"Do you think we could adapt it to lick people, too? Imagine the fright they'd get!"
"Do you know the counter-jinx?" the last question was asked by Lee.
"Uh, no," she answered with a sheepish shrug.
The dreadlocked boy sighed tiredly, like he was the only adult at the children's table of a wedding. "Then how are we meant to get our shoes back on, Winona?" he asked patiently. She winced, suddenly realising the predicament.
"Who even cares at this point?" Fred cheered, still delighted by the prank ideas appearing before his eyes. "We can make people's shoes bite their toes, Lee. Think of the possibilities."
"I think walking to the carriages barefoot is a small price to pay," his twin beamed.
"What other ones can you teach us?" Fred continued eagerly, nudging his snarling shoe out of the way so he could lean closer to his best friend.
"And only the interesting ones, if you would, our dear Winnie."
"Not the rubbish they teach in a classroom."
"The real-world stuff."
Smirking, Winona thought back to her brief perusals of her new books. "Well, there's one that turns food rotten when you try and take a bite," she revealed with a grin, beginning to get excited about the possibilities. Perhaps the twins had rubbed off on her sometime over the last couple of years.
"Brilliant, what else?"
"One that inflates things..."
"Useful."
"One that turns someone's head into a pumpkin..."
"Lee, write these down!"
The feast began as it always did, with the Sorting. Winona found herself holding her breath as the new first-years shuffled meekly into the Great Hall, staring at everything around them with massively wide, slightly-terrified eyes.
She knew who she was looking for – knew his face almost better than her own – so it took barely a full heartbeat for her to lock onto the young features of Harry Potter.
Seeing in him person again, this time without a window separating them, very nearly winded her. It reminded her that everything she'd seen of him these past two years – it was true. He was a real person, who would actually be going through the sorts of things she saw in her terrifying visions. It was all real.
The poor kid looked absolutely petrified, his scared eyes a sparkling green from behind circular glasses. They were wide as they took in the Great Hall; the cloudy night sky that the ceiling was enchanted to look like, the candles floating above them delicately, the students staring at his new class like they were animals in a zoo.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall told them in a clear, loud voice.
The sorting took awhile, as it usually did, but it seemed to drag on extra slow for Winona, who was only interested in one person's result.
"Go on then," George muttered, he and Fred leaning across the table while someone named Parvati Patil was sorted, the hat taking a long few moments of deliberation. "Who gets him?"
Winona reluctantly dragged her eyes from the dwindling group of first-years to eye her friends. "What?" she asked, distracted.
"Which House does he get put into?" Fred pressed impatiently.
"You can't wait the extra two minutes and find out yourselves?"
"Maybe we just want to see if you're right," George said with an innocent beam.
She ignored them, turning back to the sorting, eyes refocusing on Harry Potter. She knew, as far as her visions went, which House he would be put into – but she supposed it was like her own sort of test. If she was right, and he went where she expected him to, then that must surely mean everything she drew about him would also come to pass.
She wasn't sure what she was hoping would happen.
"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall finally called out. The entire hall went deathly silent before the crowd broke out in loud whispers. Everyone was leaning around one another to get a good look at the Boy-Who-Lived, while Harry himself was cringing under all the unwanted attention.
Unlike many of his new classmates, he wasn't trembling as he took a seat on the wooden stool, eyeing the whispering audience with only a hint of wariness before the hat dropped down over his bright green eyes.
The hat was silent for a few long moments that might as well have been hours, until finally it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" at the top of its lungs. Winona felt herself sag downwards in something akin to relief.
"We got Potter! We got Potter!" the twins sang loudly, practically dancing in their seats with unrestrained glee.
Harry looked embarrassed at the attention, keeping himself small as he came to sit beside Percy, who shook his hand wholeheartedly, like he were meeting the bloody Minister for Magic himself.
Winona snorted, kicking the twins' shins in reprimand as she sensed it was making Harry uncomfortable. They cut off with snickers, turning back to the rest of the Sorting, but Winona took the time to lean around Percy to smile at the boy comfortingly.
He was surprised by the gesture, staring back at her without moving, unsure how to react, before finally his expression twisted up into a responding smile, grateful for the small act of kindness. She could tell he recognised her from the brief interaction at King's Cross and her smile widened, still barely able to believe he was there in front of her, so very real.
Then the sorting was over, the feast appeared by magic, and the evening was lost in a swirl of food and conversation.
Before Winona knew it she was stumbling through the portrait hole, fingers twitching against her palm as she felt the unmistakable itch to sketch.
"I know that look," George said from beside her as she moved towards the stairs, barely casting them a second look.
"You're planning to hide your face in your sketchbook for the evening," Fred continued in what she would almost call a whine.
"And completely ignore the best of your friends."
She spun around, stepping out of the way of a meek looking first year with bushy brown hair to peer at the twins through narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, did we have plans?" she asked tartly, but the pair only snickered conspiratorially.
"In fact, there is a certain…matter that we'd like to discuss with you," Fred admitted, glancing over his shoulder like he was sure somebody was eavesdropping. She didn't know who would care enough to do so – most of the Tower knew it was safer to keep out of their affairs. They'd learned long ago that plausible deniability was key.
"Will it get me a detention?" she asked dryly.
"We're at least 85% sure that it won't," George replied, the banter coming as easily as breathing.
She considered her options. She could go curl up in her fresh sheets and favourite pyjamas, and sketch to her heart's content, or she could stay down in the chilly common room and help the boys with their latest harebrained scheme, chancing yet another stint in detention.
"We'll throw in some warm apple pie for your time," Fred added smugly, knowing he'd already won – the smirk on his mouth said it all.
She glared at them both, but the expression lacked any trace of hostility. "Fine," she hissed, shifting out of the way of a looming seventh year. "You idiots have yourselves a deal," she caved, knowing that, even without the promise of apple pie, she would have said yes, because trouble with the twins was always better than peace by herself.
Turned out, she didn't have to do as much as she'd thought. They secured a corner near the fireplace and Winona situated herself in a big squishy armchair, tucking her feet underneath herself to keep them warm. And it didn't turn out to be merely one prank they wanted to discuss, but rather a comprehensive list of their plans for the coming school year.
As usual, she found herself sucked into their planning, enjoying the way their ideas made her laugh and the way she felt when they asked for her input, knowing she was the thirteen year-old queen of both reconnaissance and exit strategies.
"And mum gave us this brilliant idea about a toilet seat," George was saying animatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands. Winona listened closely, absentmindedly considering which bathroom would be the ideal hit. The Prefect's bathroom would be the funniest, but not the easiest to access. She was thinking the one closest to the hospital wing was the best logistically, plus she could get Lee fake an injury and the twins could pretend to be visiting him. Maybe she could get him to take something that would make him throw up…
She voiced her musings to the twins, eagerly telling them her plans to get them in and out as under-the-radar as possible. "If only there was something we could take to make us believably sick," she added, more to herself than to them. "Who knew not paying attention in Potions might actually come back to haunt me…?"
Fred sat up suddenly, spine straightening like he was a soldier at bootcamp. Winona eyed him carefully, watching the emotions splayed across his freckled face. George took a moment to catch on, but suddenly he was rim-rod straight too, a look of excited shock on his features, the expression mirrored perfectly on his brother.
"What?" Winona asked slowly from where she was curled up on the cushions. Sometimes not being in on their twin-telepathy could be a real pain.
"You, my dear Winona, are an absolute genius!" Fred exclaimed loudly. The last few people lingering in the common room turned to eye them grumpily. He looked about ready to plant one directly on her mouth out of pure delight, and she cringed warily at the thought.
"This changes everything!" George added, equally as thrilled.
"Of course we'll have to start actually paying attention to Snape-"
"Small price to pay-"
"We need to brainstorm name ideas-"
"Not to mention packaging-"
"But Winnie can draw up something in a jiffy-"
"Oh, this is monumental-"
"On that note!" Winona said loudly, breaking over the enthusiastic chattering of the flame-haired twins. "I'll be off to bed. Do I need to know what I'll be 'drawing up'?"
"We'll tell you once it's more concrete," the pair assured her hurriedly, clearly too focused on this grand new idea to bother focusing on her. She would have been offended, had this not happened to her more times than she could count. It bothered her a little back in their first year, but now she only found amusement from watching them chatter between themselves like a pair of overexcited budgies.
"See you in the morning," she said, receiving only distracted nods in reply before she rolled her eyes and disappeared up the stairs.
Alicia, Hope and Angelina were already in their night clothes, all hovering around one bed as they chatted in low voices, every now and then a giggle slipping through.
Winona said nothing, not wanting to get caught up in the gossip circle she knew was happening. She was quiet, moving over to her trunk and plucking out one of her old Rolling Stones shirts, turning away to pull it on. Unfortunately, her presence didn't go unnoticed for long.
"Winnie!" Angelina all but shrieked. The Seer winced, waiting until she was properly covered before turning around. "Come here," she continued, lowering her voice as though worried somebody might overhear, despite the fact it was bedtime and everyone was in their own dorms, getting ready for the coming day of classes. Although Winona wanted to cringe, she kept her face carefully arranged in a politely interested expression as she approached the trio of excitable girls. "Did you see Oliver Wood?" Angelina asked quickly, still whispering as though the boy himself might hear all the way on the opposite side of the Tower.
Winona's polite mask slipped, confusion replacing it. "Yeah?" she replied, not following. "He was standing in the common room, muttering something about Quidditch training. I mean, I know they couldn't have possibly gone with anybody else for Captain, but I can't help but think they've unleashed a monster…" she mused, wondering whether she could suggest turning his obsession into some sort of prank – the twins would eat that idea up like Christmas cake.
"Not that," Alicia sighed impatiently. Winona suddenly felt that she was completely missing the point.
"Then what?" she asked cluelessly, get irritated by the unknown.
"He's…well, he's fit," Angelina giggled, and though Winona couldn't quite tell, she was sure her friend was blushing.
"Oh," the blonde said, suddenly realising what this whole thing was about and wanting to hit herself for not realising sooner. She was an idiot. They weren't just talking about boys; they were talking about boys.
Winona had managed to escape much talk of boys over her previous two years at Hogwarts. She'd never really gotten 'butterflies' or whatever her friends were giggling over. Maybe she just hadn't found the right person yet – that's what she told herself. Besides, she was only thirteen, she had her whole life ahead of her. She had bigger things to worry about than boys – like the approaching unease in her visions, and keeping the twins out of too much trouble.
"Don't you think he's gorgeous?" Angelina asked her excitedly. Winona decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, pausing as she thought back to the glance she'd had of him in the common room only a short while ago.
He was, admittedly, quite attractive. He was lean and tall, with caramel hair, a strong brow and a thoughtful gaze. Her fingers twitched; she really should sketch him one of these days.
"All right," she said reluctantly, deciding not to lie to them. "He's fit."
The girls dissolved into a pile of giggling messes, and the sight was so typically cliché that Winona found herself laughing along, sinking into Alicia's side as her friend began to braid her hair while they spoke. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
It was two weeks into term that she met Adam Bradley for the first time, and suddenly she was eating her own words.
Her day began as any other; she was the last in her dorm to wake and she dressed haphazardly as she scrambled to make it down to the Great Hall in time to swipe some food from the boys. The twins greeted her absently, both absorbed in their conversation with Wood about Quidditch. Lee was slightly more inclusive, greeting her with a grin and a slap on the back, sliding over a plate of bacon and eggs for her to shovel down before their first class of the day.
"You started on that Transfiguration essay yet?" the dreadlocked boy asked around a mouthful of scrambled egg.
Winona snorted at the question; they both knew full well that she was the least likely to have started on an assignment that wasn't due for a whole week and a half. "Care of Magical Creatures was good the other day, right?" she spoke up conversationally, and Lee nodded fervently. "It's not often I say this, but I'm looking forward to the next class."
"Professor Kettleburn actually isn't so bad," Lee almost sounded surprised, a sentiment she shared, nodding in agreement. "How's Arithmancy?" he continued after a mouthful of pumpkin juice.
"I'd say it's an easy O," she said with a smirk. Numbers came so easily to her, not quite like art and colours, but it was still easy for her to calculate sums in her head – she was actually looking forward to the next class, when they'd be working on integrating the theory into magic. "What about your Muggle Studies class?"
"Talk about an easy O," he laughed. She chuckled along with him before turning to her meal and devouring it in the few minutes she had remaining until Potions. The quartet were the last ones through the door, rushing to their seats just as Snape billowed into the room.
Class seemed to crawl by, and Winona found herself yawning every few minutes. She was thankful for George, who was actually good in this class, watching as he stirred their potion seventeen times counter-clockwise. "You know, it's really not that hard," he commented, plucking a leech that Fred had tossed to him from the air with laughable ease.
"You're the brains, I'm the brawn," she murmured disinterestedly, tapping her fingertips impatiently against the tabletop.
Fred chortled from his place on the other side of their bench. Winona lifted her head to scowl at him. "I hardly think you're the 'brawn' of the group," he told her with a smirk, glancing pointedly at her smaller stature.
"Don't know why you're laughing," she jeered at his lanky form. "It ain't you either, buddy."
The grin dropped from his face but he didn't take the attitude to heart, used to how grumpy she could get during their morning Potions class with Snape. "Touchy," he muttered, pointing the tip of his knife in her direction before poking his tongue out and returning to his work.
"Andrews!" a familiar, nasally voice spat, and Winona had to suppress a deep sigh as she sat up properly, swinging around to peer up at Professor Snape warily. "I've noticed your distinct lack of effort in class today," he sneered. "I've also noticed the lack of your essay in the pile on my desk." Winona said nothing, and he sneered victoriously. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
She was typically an argumentative person, but even she wasn't stupid enough to go picking a fight with Snape, so she didn't rise to the bait, merely nodding her head once in acknowledgement. Besides, she hadn't done the homework, so that was definitely more than a little deserved.
"Nothing to say?" the teacher continued, ugly sneer sitting comfortably on his thin lips. She didn't know how to respond to that, but she decided that keeping quiet was probably the best option – lest she lose control and saying something worthy of expulsion – so she merely shook her head and grit her teeth against he urge to sass him back. "Tell me, Andrews, can you name three ingredients used in the brewing of Amortentia?"
Stunned by the question, her eyebrows hit her hairline as she fumbled for the answer – a difficult task, because she'd never even heard of that potion before. "Um..." she stalled, glancing over her shoulder in panic. The twins were scowling, having abandoned their tasks when he'd approached.
"That's not fair!" Fred exclaimed from the opposite side of the bench. "That's a sixth year potion!"
"Did I ask for your input, Weasley?" Snape countered dangerously, and the redhead fell silent, contenting himself to glaring daggers at the cruel, bitter Potions Master. "Well, Andrews?" he prompted when she remained silent. "No answer?"
"No, professor," she bit out, nails biting into her palms with concealed frustration.
Irritation lit up in his cold eyes, and he stared down at her as though she were something he'd spotted down a drain pipe. "I expect an essay on its properties on my desk by tomorrow," he spat, and Winona gaped at the order. He must have been in the worst mood of his life.
"What's your damage?" she snapped, unable to keep it from slipping through.
Snape sneered again, victorious. "Fifteen inches should do it," he said in that snide, vile voice of his. "You can get started now," he added, apparently displeased by her lack of a more violent reaction. "Feel free to head to the library. I don't reward incompetence, and your tiny brain will need all the extra time it can get."
Fred and George looked about ready to burst with barely-contained fury and Lee glowered into the brew that he was stirring just a little too violently. "Yes, sir," she said quietly, resentment like a beast within her. She reached down to swipe her bag from the floor, peeking inside to check she had everything. "See you at lunch," she told her friends, meeting Fred's eyes meaningfully.
She may not have had the same 'twin-telepathy' that the twins did, but they'd been best friends since their first few months at Hogwarts, and over time the three had built a rapport that extended beyond just plain banter and jokes.
Fred nodded once, knowing what she was trying to convey. The last thing she wanted was for any of the boys to get themselves into trouble for her sake. And Fred got the message loud and clear. Winona wasn't stupid enough to believe it would hold, however. They wouldn't do anything this lesson, or maybe even for the whole day, but the professor had definitely made their immediate hit-list – even more so than usual.
Winona nudged George in farewell before shuffling from the damp, dark room, turning left to head from the dungeons.
It was a nice day. The sun wasn't shining, but it was still lovely nonetheless. For the briefest of moments she considered doing the unthinkable and actually going to the library to carry out the Potion Master's task.
She laughed to herself, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty corridor. She'd end up sketching anyway, so why bother even pretending?
She headed for the courtyard, stepping out into the light and heading straight for one of the benches by the far wall. Usually she had to skip class for this kind of privacy, but for once she'd actually been told to leave, and she intended to spend every minute making the most of it.
She tugged out her current sketchbook, fishing around for a pencil before getting comfortable on the ground with her back leant up against the stone bench seat. The air still held a hint of its summer warmth and she revelled in it, scooping out a second pencil, reaching up and winding her blonde locks around the wood before spearing it in a practised move, succeeding in holding it up with the utensil as she always did when she was distracted.
Relieved that she could finally get to work, she opened her book to a half-finished work of a unicorn in a meadow and lost herself in the feeling of graphite against paper.
"Hey!" an unfamiliar voice suddenly barked, startling Winona so much that she flinched, then cursed when she realised she'd smudged her work. She looked up, annoyed by the interruption. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
It was a boy, at least two years ahead of her judging by the prefect badge in place on his chest.
He came closer and Winona took in the blue and bronze tie around his throat, realising he was a Ravenclaw.
"Well?" the boy prompted, arms crossed over his chest.
Winona slid her eyes and thoughts away from his tie, moving up to glance at his face. She was surprised by what she saw. Despite being older by at least two years, he looked young, with dark brown hair that seemed unruly and a round face with thick, defining brows which framed a set of warm brown eyes, the likes of which she was sure she would have remembered seeing before.
"Sorry," she forced herself to speak, although unable to pull her eyes away from his. He was entrancing, surprisingly so. She didn't tend to get flustered over boys, but suddenly she understood where the gushing girls in her dorm were coming from. "Uh, Snape kicked me out of his class."
It was ineloquent as could be, blunt and to the point and only really answering half the question. "Do you have a note?" he asked, tilting his head and peering down at her on the ground, brow furrowed as his thoughts raced with things she would never be privy to.
Winona winced, not having thought of the fact she may have needed one to be idling in the courtyard when she should have been in class.
"No," she admitted, reaching up with one hand to brush away her bangs, which had fallen into her eyes from the wind. "You could ask him, if you want. Or anyone in that class, really. It was rather a public kicking-out…" she trailed off, abruptly self-conscious about her own voice. What if he thought it was too hoarse or rough? It suddenly sounded so to her ears. Besides, did what she just said even make sense? What was wrong with her? "What-what are you doing out of class?" she tried to sound accusing, but as she glanced down she once more took note of the prefect's badge fastened to his robes and realised he didn't need a note or excuse.
Her cheeks felt warm. Was that normal?
He was smiling now, no longer stern, but instead ever so slightly amused. Winona swallowed, feeling uncomfortable from her place on the cobblestones below him. "I think I know you," he told her, making her blink in surprise. He shuffled closer before eventually deciding to take a seat on the bench she was leaned against.
Winona took a steadying breath, telling herself she was being pathetic before climbing to her feet, only to collapse back onto the bench he was perched on. She felt better that way, like they were more evenly matched. "You do?" she asked once she was certain her voice wouldn't sound too squeaky.
"Yeah, you're…Waverly, right?" he attempted, face scrunched as he tried to get her name right from memory.
Her cheeks went hot again and she held her sketchbook closer to her chest like a protective barrier between them. "Uh, it's Winona, actually," she corrected awkwardly, reaching up once more to push her hair from her eyes.
"You're friends with the Weasley twins, yeah?" She nodded, somehow not surprised that that was how she was recognised. "Those guys crack me up," he said around a grin that took her breath away. "Oh, I'm Adam, by the way," he said suddenly, realising he hadn't introduced himself. "Adam Bradley."
He reached out a hand and she held her chin high as she shook it, hoping beyond all hope that her palms weren't sweaty.
"It's nice to meet you," she murmured, letting go quickly, not sure she was comfortable touching him. "Um, if I'm not allowed to be here, I can go to the library or something," she said, glancing around like she expected somebody in a place of higher authority to leap out and yell at them. "I was meant to go there anyway but..." she trailed off, not wanting to say 'schoolwork makes me anxious because I find most academic concepts difficult to grasp'; it made her sound like an idiot.
"What were you doing instead?" he asked, sounding pleasantly curious.
She tilted her head at him, hair once more falling into her eyes. She knew she had to get it cut soon, and briefly she considered Fred or George, but there was no way she was letting them anywhere near her neck with scissors. She'd have to ask one of the girls – probably Angelina, she seemed like the smarter choice.
"Just...sketching?" she told him, but it sounded oddly like a question. She held up her closed sketchbook as proof, shaking it twice to draw his attention before shoving it back into her lap.
"You're an artist?" he asked, blinking at her with those warm eyes.
"Well, not professionally. I'm only thirteen." She laughed even though she hadn't made a joke. She pressed her lips together to stifle the nervous sound. "I want to be though," she added once she had better control over herself. "Y'know, when I grow up."
That was such a juvenile statement, it made her want to smash her head against the stone bench they were sitting on.
He was quiet and seemed to be contemplating what to say next. "Did you know you have a pencil in your hair?" he asked after a moment, eyes on the stick of wood holding up her long blonde locks.
She suddenly felt embarrassed – who the hell wore a pencil in their hair? Merlin, she must look excessively sloppy to someone as well put-together as him.
"Do I?" she feigned surprise, reaching up to tug the pencil from where it sat, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders once the knot was loosened. He was watching her, chocolate-eyes glittering. "Anyway," she blurted quickly, reaching down to pluck her bag from the ground, "I'd best be going. I've got Defence next and I don't know enough about Quirrell yet to risk being late."
She stumbled to her feet, clearing her throat and watching as he stood too. He was short, only a few centimetres taller than her. It was a nice change – most of her friends were practically twice her size.
"Well, maybe next time you should have a note," he said, and she sucked in a breath, wondering if she was being somehow reprimanded. A beat passed, then he broke out into an amused grin, screwing her insides up into knots. "That was a joke," he added. She forced a laugh. It hadn't been particularly funny, but she supposed she could see the humour in it.
"Well, I'll – uh, I'll see you round, huh?" she tripped over her words, reaching up to run a hand through her hair nervously, made kind of uncomfortable by the way his intelligent eyes roamed her.
"I'm sure you will, Winona," he smiled again, the expression doing nothing to calm her racing pulse.
"Okay," she attempted a smile back. "Well, bye," she added lamely, biting down on her tongue before turning and rushing as smoothly as she could from the courtyard, heading for the Defence room, hoping she didn't look as ridiculous as she felt.
As she walked, she berated herself for how fucking awkward and weird she was. She cringed deeply, reaching up to fuss with her hair as she approached the classroom. What was wrong with her? Was this what liking someone felt like? Why were her social skills on par with one of those gorillas they taught sign language to at Muggle zoos?
She needed advice; how to be a normal human being with normal human being feelings, 101.
She briefly considered going to the twins for help, but that was a mortifying thought. They may have been her best friends, but there were some things too personal to even discuss with them. Lee was out of the question – the whole school would know within minutes. She resolved to speak with the girls in her dorm next time there was opportunity.
"There you are," the twins were relieved when she walked through the door, stepping into the dimly lit Defence room and making her way over to the table where the four of them usually sat. "We thought you might have actually gone to the library to get the essay done," George continued jovially. "Glad to see you haven't totally lost your Gobstones."
She attempted a chuckle, but it was really more of a distracted hum as she settled into her seat beside Fred.
"You alright?" he asked her quietly, ensuring the group of nosy Slytherins behind them wouldn't overhear.
"Why?" she hissed, eyes wide in alarm. Did she look strange? Could he tell? Did he see it in her eyes? Was that possible?
"Um – well, because your face is all red," Fred murmured back delicately, like she was a wild animal he was afraid might bite him.
"Oh," she sighed, reaching up to rub at her cheeks as though she could scrub away the colour. "I'm fine, Fred. Just tired…and hungry."
She hoped that was enough to sell it, but Fred knew her too well and continued to eye her suspiciously. Blessedly, before he could question her further, the door at the back of the room opened with a creak and Professor Quirrell tripped into view, a heavy looking lizard of some kind in his pale, shaking hands.
She opened her book, reaching for a quill and staring at the teacher like she was about to hang off his every word, trying to hide the fact that her head was swimming with thoughts of a baby-faced, brown-eyed prefect from Ravenclaw, and what this stupid little crush meant for her as an evolving woman...
She really hated growing up.