"I wonder what happens when you throw the Doxy venom in with the African sea salt?" Fred pondered aloud, holding two small jars in his hands, arms bobbing like a set of scales.
"Asking the wrong girl, buddy," Winona told him distractedly, digging in her pencil case for the correct colour.
"Of course, what was I thinking?" he murmured with a roll of his eyes, leaning over his mini cauldron and lifting the stirring spoon to check the consistency. "I forgot that your potions ability doesn't go above second year," he added slyly, and she took the opportunity to toss one of his own pillows at him from where she was perched on his bed. "Oi!" he cried when the fluffy, threadbare pillow hit him square in the face.
Winona was grinning to herself when George strolled back in, taking great care to shut the door after him, sealing them all inside the small but cozy bedroom. "Don't mix the Doxy venom and the sea salt!" George exclaimed, racing up to his brother and snatching the bottle of off-yellow venom from his hand. "You'll blow the lot of us into the sky!"
"Huh," Fred murmured, stirring the brew in the cauldron calmly. "That answers that, I suppose."
George snorted, throwing Winona an exasperated look that made her grin. With a giggle she turned back to her work, running the light purple pencil over the carefully sketched scales of a magnificent dragon.
"We're going to be battling dragons in the near future, then?" George asked, taking a seat beside her and stretching with a yawn.
"Sorry to tell you; this is just a regular, everyday, run-of-the-mill sketch," she told him with a roll of her eyes.
"A wizard can dream," he responded blithely. "Oh! By the way," he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a crinkled envelope. "This came for you earlier, mum wanted me to give it to you."
Winona took it, blinking down at the front of the paper, analysing the handwriting.
"Who'd write to you?" asked Fred, and although they weren't said with malice, the words were a little sharp.
"I have friends," she sniffed. Fred just tutted before turning back to his bubbling potion.
The handwriting was done in sturdy block letters, written in an off-brown ink. Slipping her finger under the lip of the envelope, Winona pulled, ripping the paper and exposing the letter inside.
From the centre of the room, smoke began to billow from the cauldron. Fred let out a curse and George dove down to get their experiment under control. As soon as Winona saw who the letter was from, she was grateful for the distraction.
Winona,
How are you? I hope you're having a nice holiday. My family's just gotten back from Greece! I'll have to tell you all about it when I see you. You're going to love the photographs.
Are you caught up with your summer reading? The new course books for DADA are a joke and a half, right?
I can't wait to see you, it feels like it's been forever. Hope you're doing well.
Fondly,
Adam.
Feeling her cheeks flush, Winona was quick to fold up the letter, shoving it into the bottom of her pocket and turning back to her sketching like nothing had happened. Thankfully, the wonder twins were too absorbed by their potion issues to bother being curious about who sent the letter.
"Haven't you heard mum calling?" Ginny poked her head through the ajar door, running her eyes over the twins, huddled over a cauldron in their pyjamas while Winona sat folded on Fred's bed, hands stained with colour. None of this was particularly surprising, the shocking thing would have been to find them doing anything that wasn't experimenting and sketching. "Breakfast's ready," she informed them quickly, shooting Winona an exasperated look before ducking back out and letting the door click shut behind her.
"Finally, I'm starved," Winona told the boys, standing to her feet and dusting the pencil shavings off her pyjamas and onto the floor.
"Oi," George exclaimed. "You just gonna leave that there?" he asked indignantly, gesturing to the mess she'd unthinkingly made.
Rolling her eyes, she swooped down, scooping the shavings into her hand and tossing them into the depths of her pencil case, never to be seen again.
"Meet you trolls downstairs," she told them teasingly, turning and heading back to Ginny's room before they could respond. She got dressed quickly, deciding not to wander down the stairs in her ratty old pyjama bottoms and faded Beatles teeshirt.
The jeans she pulled on weren't much better – large holes in the knees from too much wear – and a purple shirt that had been a gift from Angelina on her last birthday. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and draped over her body like it were made of water. Running a brush through her long hair, she turned, making her way barefoot down to the first level of the Burrow.
She was surprised when she almost ran smack bang into Harry, who had been standing on the second landing from the ground.
"Sorry," she said absently, stomach growling for food.
"Actually, Winona, can we talk for a moment?" he asked, looking uncomfortable. She paused, concerned as she watched him, waiting quietly for him to begin. "I know, the other night, you said you hadn't had any…visions, about this year…" he began awkwardly.
"I really haven't, Harry," she told him quickly, not wanting him to get his hopes up. She felt abruptly useless. What was the point in being a bloody Seer if she couldn't even help out a friend in need?
"If you had, you'd tell me, right?" he asked, sounding awfully insecure.
"In a heartbeat," she assured him. He attempted a smile that fell flat, and she felt concern bloom in her chest. "Is that all?" she checked. Harry paused, considering, then he nodded once. "Okay," she said softly, pressing a hand to his back and gently guiding him in the direction of the stairs. If he didn't want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, she certainly wasn't going to force him to. "I'm ruddy starving."
The pair of guests wandered into the kitchen where most of the family already sat at the table, munching on bacon and fingering through stacks of letters beside their plates.
"Oh, there you are, dear," Mrs Weasley crooned, waving her into the room. Winona moved over to the seat that had been left open beside the twins, smiling at Fred in thanks when he absentmindedly poured her a glass of juice, not even seeming to realise he'd done it until it was in front of her, then smiling back and returning to his breakfast. "Your letters have come," Mrs Weasley said, handing them each a sealed envelope with a smile, then patting Winona gently on the head and moving back over to the stove.
Putting down her sliver of toast, Winona ripped open her letter and yanking out the folded parchment inside. Absently, she wondered whether McGonagall did them all by hand, or whether she had a self-writing quill to do it for her.
It was the usual, nothing exciting or different, except for the required booklist, which was a whole lot larger than normal.
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" Fred exclaimed rather suddenly, and Winona looked up from where she was frowning at her own list. Now she understood what Adam had been talking about in his letter. "The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan — bet it's a witch," he added with something of a grimace, and Mrs Weasley looked up at him sharply at his tone. Gulping, Fred ducked his head and pretended the toast on his plate was far more interesting than it really was.
"That lot won't come cheap," commented George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."
"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley as though that was the end of it, but Winona couldn't help but notice she looked a little worried. She wished she could offer to help, but she wasn't exactly swimming in galleons herself. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny, politely curious.
Winona looked to the youngest Weasley, who had turned a bright, concerning red and accidentally dipped her elbow into the butter dish. Winona coughed to cover a snort, stuffing more eggs into her mouth and turning to look at Percy, who had just sauntered into the room like he owned the place and expected them all to fall at his feet in awe and respect.
"School hasn't even started and he's already wearing that stupid thing," Fred muttered to her from the corner of his mouth. Winona giggled in agreement, then had to cover her mouth before her food fell out. She shoved her elbow into his side, silently telling him not to joke while her mouth was full. Fred only chortled loudly.
"Morning, all," Percy was saying briskly, smoothing his hands down his sweater vest and quite obviously bringing attention to the prefect badge sitting in pride of place on his chest. "Lovely day."
Winona was turning to murmur a crass joke to Fred, but was interrupted by Percy letting out a rather undignified squawk. She spun around, raising an eyebrow as he produced Errol from under him, glaring at the poor thing like he had sat on him.
Ron read Hermione's letter aloud, but Winona and the twins paid little attention, George busying himself with making a miniature catapult out of a spoon and some egg, and Fred busy trying to block the attempts at a hit to the face, with Winona muttering criticism on their technique as they moved.
"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, breaking through Winona's distraction and beginning to clear the table. Winona got the feeling she'd missed something, but the woman continued on before she could be found out. "What're you all up to today?"
"We're going to go out to the paddock and play some Quidditch!" Ron answered her excitedly.
Winona brightened, the thought of getting to fly for the first time in months was a thrilling one. The only downside was that they couldn't go too high because of the Muggles in the town beside them. She wasn't the biggest fan of playing Quidditch herself, but it worked out because there was an odd number of people.
Ron was kind as they walked up the steep hill leading to the Weasley's secluded paddock, suggesting he'd sit out so she could play, but she ruffled his hair (making him grimace in irritation) and told him she was happy playing referee. He was relieved, but was sweet enough not to make it seem too obvious.
"Think we can have a turn of your Nimbus, Harry?" George was asking enthusiastically, an old, ratty Swiftstick thrown over his shoulder that paled in comparison to Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand, which glinted impressively in the sunlight.
"'Course," Harry replied eagerly, and not for the first time. What a sweet kid he was, considering everything he put up with – being the Boy-Who-Lived and all, and not to mention his abusive Muggle guardians. If she were in his shoes, she couldn't have guaranteed she'd have ended up as undamaged. "Shame Percy wouldn't come play," Harry continued, glancing up at the sky and wincing as he was met with the burning glare of the sun.
"What is he doing up there in his room alone all the time?" Winona pondered aloud, only to second guess her choice of words. "One lewd comment from either of you…" she said to the twins, who grinned innocently, knowing her well enough to imagine how that threat might end.
"We do wish we knew what he was up to," Fred replied, reaching up to wipe at the sweat that had already appeared on his brow. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all."
Harry didn't seem to understand what that meant, shooting them a puzzled look.
"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained kindly. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame," he added sardonically, and Winona frowned in sympathy.
She knew how hard it was on the twins, having such a highly esteemed older brother to live up to. She wished there was more she could do than tell a vulgar joke that she knew would make them laugh, or offer to sketch Snape in women's clothes – that always cheered them right up.
"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," George continued a few beats later, the frown sticking to his face. Winona glanced over at Fred to see the expression pasted identically onto his features. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything..."
"You'll be alright," Winona told him gently, nudging him with the jagged bristles of her secondhand Silver Arrow. "You always are."
"Yeah," he sighed wistfully, and she turned away sadly. "What about you?" he asked abruptly, seeming to remember that conversations went both ways. "You able to afford all the year's requirements?"
Harry and Ron had fallen into their own conversation up ahead, the twins remaining back with her, the three of them lost in their own world.
"My allowance from the Ministry will cover it, I'm sure," she replied, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.
Fred and George nodded – one thing the three had always had in common was their lack of funds, it had been one of the things to pull them closer together in their earlier years at Hogwarts. She hated for things to feel flat, or for any of them to feel sorry for themselves, so she tossed them a grin that was slightly forced and playfully shoved Fred backwards into George.
"Last one to the paddock is a rotten Slytherin!" she yelled, spinning around and legging it up the hill, grinning more sincerely at the twins' outraged cries from behind her.
Everything would be alright, she told herself as she ran, because it had to be.
A few days later was the day they were to go to Diagon Alley, and Mrs Weasley awoke Ginny and Winona before everyone else, knowing they'd want first go at the shower.
Ginny went first while Winona woke up, then she hopped in and gave herself a quick rinse before changing into the same pair of jeans that she'd worn every day that week, and pulling on a simple red, flowing top, yanking her hair back into a pony tail and moving from the bathroom just as Percy raised his hand to knock at the door.
Winona wandered downstairs, moving over to Mrs Weasley and offering to butter the bread for the bacon sandwiches she was preparing for everyone's breakfast. She smiled and passed her the knife.
One by one everybody piled into the kitchen, bleary eyed and wet-haired.
"Alright?" Fred and George asked as she slipped into the place they'd left open between them, pulling her own sandwich closer to her and taking a healthy bite. She hummed in affirmation, not wanting to speak around her mouthful.
"Come along," Mrs Weasley was saying barely a full five minutes later, herding them all towards the fireplace like cattle. She swiped a flowerpot off the mantlepiece and peered inside with a frown. "We're running low, Arthur," she told her husband quietly. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"
And she offered him the flowerpot, and he suddenly look terribly confused. "W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered warily.
"He's never traveled by Floo powder," exclaimed Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."
"Never?" said Mr. Weasley curiously. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"
"I went on the Underground —"
"Really?" asked Mr. Weasley eagerly, lighting up in his enthusiasm. "Were there escapators?" he asked excitedly. "How exactly —"
"Not now, Arthur," snapped Mrs Weasley sternly, and her husband fell silent. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before —"
"He'll be all right, Mum," Fred interjected, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Harry, watch us first." He stepped forwards and took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.
Harry looked astonished, gaping at the place Fred had once stood.
"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley warned Harry as George copied his twin's actions, dipping his hand into the pot and taking a pinch of the powder. "And be sure to get out at the right grate..."
"The right what?" asked Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.
"You go next, Winona, dear," Mrs Weasley ordered, casting the fireplace a nervous glance. "Keep an eye on those two, will you?"
Winona took a pinch of the Floo powder and stepped towards the flames. "Always do, Mrs Weasley," she told her with a grin, tossing it into the fire and stepping inside and shouting, "Diagon Alley," as the green flames consumed her.
She'd come accustomed to the feeling over time, but it was still disconcerting, being sucked away with the force of a hurricane and feeling like all your organs were suddenly compacted into something the size of a grape. It didn't last long, however, it never did. A moment later she was tumbling out of the fireplace at Diagon Alley, blinking her eyes against the soot and brushing ash from one of the only reasonably pretty tops she owned.
"There you are!" George's voice flooded her ears, and she spun around to peer at the twins, who were grinning at her and rocking on their heels, eager to begin exploring. "Let's go!"
"If we ditch your mother like last year, she'll stop letting me come over, you know," Winona warned with a roll of her eyes, moving away from the grate and giving space for the next person to come through.
"Reckon dad'll give us any extra money for ice cream this year?" Fred asked his brother eagerly, but George only shook his head.
"Not with all the books we've got to get," he replied. Fred frowned before perking up when the Floo ignited again, this time a blinking Mr Weasley appeared from the flames, brushing soot off his robes as he wandered towards them.
"Alright, Harry?" the twins' father asked aloud, and the trio frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean, dad?" Fred asked confusedly, glancing over his shoulder like he might see the Boy-Wonder materialise miraculously from behind him.
"Harry isn't here?" Mr Weasley asked, usually lighthearted expression turning into something much heavier. "Harry Potter didn't come out of that grate just there?" he asked slowly, pointing back at the Floo like something about the question might have confused them.
"No," the twins answered as one, and Mr Weasley went pale.
A flash of green flames and Percy appeared, already rubbing the soot from the surface of his prefect badge, staring down at it with concern. Not a moment later green flashed again and Ron appeared, brushing at his eyes with ash-covered fingers. He looked up, peering at everyone, then frowned and leant to the side to get a look behind the group. "Where's Harry?" he asked confusedly, spinning in a full circle to try and spot his missing best friend.
"That's the bad news," Fred began in a tone of someone in a position of great awkwardness. Ron's eyes went wide and he was suddenly glaring at the twins like it was somehow their fault Harry hadn't arrived as planned.
Before a squabble could break out the Floo flared to life again, Ginny appearing out of it, and a moment later, Mrs Weasley following.
"Mum!" Ron explained before Winona knew what was happening, panic winding across his long, narrow features. "Harry never arrived!"
Mrs Weasley went pale, much like her husband had moment ago. Everything was quiet amongst the group for a long few heartbeats, then the Weasleys exploded into activity.
"Harry knows we're meeting at Gringotts!" Mrs Weasley was shouting to anyone who would listen. "Go there, and keep an eye out – and for goodness sake, stay together!"
The crowd in Diagon alley was thick and loud, and in an effort to keep close to her group, Winona reached out and blindly caught one of the twins' hands, grasping it in a firm grip and allowing them to pull her forwards through the throng. She knew once their skin connected, like a persistent ringing in her brain, that it was Fred. She always knew when it was Fred.
"There!" George was the first to spot Harry, he and Fred being the tallest of the gathered group. "At Gringotts!"
Mr Weasley sagged with relief and when Ron shifted out of Winona's way, she was greeted with the sight of Harry on the bank's steps, along with a grinning Hermione and an anxious and towering Hagrid.
"Harry," Mr Weasley panted as they dodged a family of three, coming to a stop beside Hagrid and the younger boy. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far..." He mopped his glistening bald patch with an old patchwork handkerchief and turned to look over his shoulder. "Molly's frantic — she's coming now —"
"Where did you come out?" Ron asked Harry eagerly, clapping a hand to his friend's shoulder in relief.
"Knockturn Alley," Hagrid revealed. The twins lit up.
"Excellent!" they said together, craning their necks in the opposite direction, trying to get a look into the forbidden, shady areas of their beloved shopping street.
"We've never been allowed in," Ron was saying enviously, but Winona couldn't relate. She'd never been there herself, and she definitely never wanted to. Sometimes when she was walking past the entrance to the creepy streets, she'd see old hags with scars littering their skin, huddled on the ground, muttering to themselves as they rocked like scared little children awakening from a nightmare.
"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid. Winona was puzzled by his stern reaction.
Before anyone could comment there was a strangled squawk of relief as Mrs Weasley burst into view, Ginny just barely managing to keep ahold of her hand.
"Oh, Harry — oh, my dear — you could have been anywhere —" she was saying, already furiously brushing off the soot still clinging to his clothes while Mr Weasley promptly fixed his glasses for him, handing them back with a much calmer smile.
"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid quickly, looking keen to escape, which Winona couldn't understand. "See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away briskly, easily three feet taller than anybody else in the Alley.
Winona stepped forwards, ruffling young Harry's hair. "Good to see you in one piece, Boy-Wonder," she told him, and he shot her a crinkled frown that only made her grin. Moving forwards, she met up with Fred and George, who were busy climbing the stairs to the main doors of Gringotts.
"How much Muggle money do you have?" George asked curiously, and Winona dug in her back pocket for a moment before pulling out a handful of crumpled notes and a smattering of bronze coloured coins. Mostly she just lived off of whatever the Ministry deigned to give her, but she usually managed to collect a bit of Muggle money during her summers by doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood. She figured she might as well exchange it while she had the chance.
"That's Muggle money?" Fred asked, blinking down at it like it had just fallen from the sky. Winona nodded, smothering a grin. "What's the paper for?" he asked, bewildered as he reach out, prodding at the folds of thin paper as though it might bite his finger.
"It's the money," she told him easily, grinning fondly at the twin's perplexed expressions, stepping inside the bank and glancing up at the high ceiling. She had the strange feeling like she was utterly weightless, and something flashed across her vision. Her ears rang painfully, but underneath the sharp trill she could hear the smashing of glass and the roar of a ferocious beast.
"Winnie!"
She was jerked from her vision by the cry of her name, and she blinked, the episode ending just as quickly as it had begun. The world came back into focus and she cocked her head at the twins, who were standing close to her, blocking her from the view of any prying eyes.
"Oh no," she muttered, mortified. She dropped her aching head into her hands, peeking out sheepishly. "Was it bad?" she asked, leaning around George to glance around the large room. A few of the goblins at the desk to the right were shooting her suspicious looks, but otherwise nobody else in the building seemed to think anything was amiss.
"It only lasted a few seconds," Fred told her soothingly, reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder, the comforting weight almost seeming to tether her to the present. And for that she was beyond grateful.
"You tried to scratch it into your skin, though," George admitted hesitantly, and suddenly she was aware of the awful stinging on her left forearm. Glancing down, she saw muted red scratch marks appearing on her exposed skin. Wincing, she rubbed a hand over the marks, relieved she'd been keeping her nails short (she kept getting charcoal under them, and thought it made her look grubby).
"No one noticed?" she asked, glancing around again, feeling paranoid. The last thing she needed was somebody seeing her in the middle of an episode; Dumbledore had warned her more than once of the dangers of anyone discovering her abilities as a Seer.
"You're in the clear," Fred assured her. "But here," he said, stripping off his Weasley sweater – it was gold with his red initial knitted into the front. He passed it to her, glancing back at his parents who were stood talking with who she assumed were Hermione's parents, by the way Mr Weasley was gesturing enthusiastically. "We don't want mum seeing the scratches and saying anything," he added. Winona agreed, pulling the sweater over her head, noting that it was still warm from his body temperature. It was big on her, sleeves falling far over her hands, but she rolled them up to her wrists and it was perfect.
She was still embarrassed, but she made an effort to smile at Fred gratefully. The taller boy grinned back and turned as their mother shouted their names.
"I'll exchange my money and meet you back here?" she offered. They paused, reluctant to leave her. She rolled her eyes. "Go," she insisted, pressing against both their chests, forcing them after their retreating family. "See you soon."
Once they were gone, Winona spun around, feeling her heart continue to race from the force of her brief vision. She could still hear the roar of some kind of creature ringing sharply in her ears. Hermione and her parents were still standing close by, and Winona would rather not be surrounded by strangers – human and goblin alike – if she could help it.
"Hello," she greeted the Granger family, and Hermione turned around to shoot her a smile while her parents looked bewildered by the sudden approach.
"Mum, dad, this is Winona, Fred and George's friend. She's two years ahead of me, in Gryffindor too," Hermione introduced her parents politely. "Winona, these are my parents."
"Pleased to meet you," she said honestly, reaching out her hand to shake. They complied, shooting her kind but tentative smiles. "I grew up as a Muggle," she told them with a lighthearted grin, hoping she wasn't too pale – Fred always said she got pale right after an episode. "First time I came to Diagon Alley, I thought it was like stepping into the pages of a fantasy novel."
"It certainly is strange," Mrs Granger agreed, casting a look over to the closest goblin who seemed to have a permanent sneer on his face, a sharp-ended quill held in a stubby, gnarled hand.
"But wonderful," Mr Granger assured her. "Magical, even," he added in a mirthful tone, and Hermione nudged her dad for his lame joke. Winona cracked an even larger grin, deciding she liked these Muggles very much indeed.
"Are you exchanging your Muggle money?" she asked them, and they nodded. "Me too," she said happily, turning and pointing them in the right direction. "It's this way."
The trio followed her deeper into the bank, and when Winona got to the desk that handled currency exchange, she nodded for them to go first. An awkward look appeared on the man's face, and he politely waved for her to go ahead – she understood immediately, they wanted her to do it first, probably so they could watch and see what would happen.
"Hello, I'd like to exchange my Muggle money," Winona said to the goblin at the desk, pushing herself up to her toes to get a good look. The height of the desks really was rather discriminatory, when she thought about it.
The goblin didn't speak, holding out a small bowl in a clawed hand. Obediently, Winona dropped her notes and coins into it, and he pulled it back, peering inside for a moment before setting it on some scales and weighing it. Then he nodded to himself, wrote something down, and ducked behind his desk, reappearing a moment later with a small sack full of Galleons and Sickles.
"Sign here," it ordered gruffly, flashing her a small piece of parchment that she didn't care to read, simply taking the offered quill and scribbling down her signature compliantly. "Thank you," it said, almost robotically, protocol rather than basic manners.
Clearly that was the end of it, and Winona spun away, turning back to the Grangers who pretended like they weren't watching everything closely. "See? Easy," she said lightly.
"We had a witch with us last time to help," Mrs Granger revealed. "This is our first time by ourselves."
"Well, you've got me," Winona offered with her most charming grin, and the couple smiled back before approaching the stoic goblin, repeating the process they'd just witnessed. "Excited to go back to school?" Winona asked Hermione while her parents took care of business. The second year student sent her a look of sheer disbelief, like she was aghast the question even had to be asked. "Of course," she murmured ruefully, casting the younger girl a smirk.
"What about you?" Hermione asked, rocking on her heels and blinking up at Winona curiously. "Have you done your summer reading?"
Winona paused. "I didn't even know there was summer reading," she admitted with a frown.
Hermione looked severely disappointed in her for this answer. "How are you even getting by, honestly?" she tutted. Winona began to remember why she found the girl so frustrating at times. "What are you going to do when OWLs come around?"
Winona blinked, stumped again. "I'm only a fourth year," she reminded her, and Hermione again acted as though Winona was personally letting her down. Thankfully, she was saved from commenting by Mr and Mrs Granger's reappearance, a sack of their own Wizarding money held in careful hands, as though worried it were charmed with something. The thought made Winona chuckle under her breath.
Winona was dreading having to make idle conversation – she never had been great with smalltalk – when the Weasleys and Harry reappeared, making a beeline for the large, ornate doors leading back out into the Alley.
Winona bid a quick goodbye to the Grangers, kindly telling them to find her if they needed anything, before darting off after the twins, who were more than eager to make their escape.
"Where to, fellas?" Winona asked them as they each began to trot down the stairs of the bank.
"Just saw Lee heading towards Apothecary," George revealed, hurrying along.
"Cool," said Winona, jumping down the last few steps and scanning the crowd, searching for that familiar head of dreadlocks she knew so well.
"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks!" called Mrs. Weasley to the dispersing group. "And not one step down Knockturn Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs, but the boys only sniggered as they darted away, carting an exasperated Winona with them.
"Oi! Lee!" Fred shouted as they ducked around robed warlocks and crying toddlers, catching up to their friend just outside the Apothecary doors.
"Fred! George!" Lee exclaimed, bringing the pair into one of their man-hugs that Winona would never fully understand. "And look who it is, all-seeing-Winona," he added cheekily, swooping down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek.
"Ugh," she pretended to gag, wiping furiously at her cheek, making him feign hurt.
"How are you, mate?" George asked, clapping his friend on the back, clearly glad to see him.
"I was doing good, till I stumbled upon your ugly mugs," he joked, and the boys all exchanged playful shoves before they each had to scuttle out of the way of a mother and her four young children. "Come on," the shorter boy said, nudging them inside the Apothecary. "I've gotta replenish my Potions kit."
"Won't do any good," Fred said snidely. "Snape's gonna fail you either way."
"You're not wrong," Lee laughed. "But I need Murtlap Essence at the least if we're going to be pulling any big-order pranks this year."
"Alright," George said with a roll of his eyes. "But you won't see us buying potion ingredients."
"Yeah, we're saving our coin for the real deal," Fred agreed.
"You mean Gambol and Japes," Winona laughed. Neither twin disputed it. "You guys go get the Murtlap Essence," she instructed them, gesturing over her shoulder at the store opposite the looming Apothecary. "I wanna grab something from Scribbulus'."
"Surprise, surprise," George and Fred drawled as one.
Winona merely poked out her tongue at them, refraining from making a rude hand gesture – there were children around. "Come find me when you're done and we'll go to the Joke Shop."
"Gotcha!" Fred called, already distracted by something or other and disappearing into the shop. George followed with a wave, and Lee sent her a salute before heading inside too.
Eager to get her own errands taken care of, Winona dodged traffic in the centre of the alley, hopping across to Scribbulus Writing Instruments and pushing her way inside. The little bell above the door jingled at her entry, and the aging wizard behind the counter looked up at her.
"Why hello," he greeted her, the store otherwise empty of shoppers. She wondered whether he got much business. "What can I do for you?" he asked, abandoning the copy of the Daily Prophet that he'd been scanning.
"Just wanted to browse your art supplies," she said politely, casting him a smile before heading to the left corner of the shop where a wall of pencils, sketchbooks and paint awaited her. She inhaled, taking in the soft scent of vanilla that pervaded the shop. She'd asked once, back before her second year, why that was. The old wizard had told her that he mixed vanilla with all his paint products, and she'd been ordering from him ever since.
Scanning the available supplies, she mentally went through all she had already, and the things she could do with stocking up on before school started. She got a new case of pencils – her old ones were nearing stumps – and a box of the cheaper watercolours – they weren't the best quality, but they were what she could afford, and they got the job done.
Still, the boys hadn't returned, so she stayed in the shop, her items tucked under her arm as she lazily browsed the different supplies, daydreaming about what she would buy first if she were a millionaire.
The bell above the door jingled and she turned, opening her mouth to greet the boys, only to fall short when she realised it wasn't Lee or the twins at all, but rather the familiar face of Adam Bradley, dressed in sleek blue robes, a smile on his face as he noticed her too.
Her face warmed at the sight of him, taking in his warm brown eyes, fluffed-up dark hair, and the excited curve to his full lips. "Winona!" he greeted her happily, starting forwards through the shop, stepping around a display of quills to stop in front of her, grinning crookedly. "How are you?"
"Adam," she said, brain only barely just catching up. "Hi. Yes. Good. You?"
She sounded like a bloody idiot, but Adam didn't seem to notice, grinning at her with those stupidly perfect teeth, glistening whiter than even her foster parent's old wedding china. "I'm well," he said, still smiling brightly. He was always smiling around her. Was she just pleasant to be around, or was something about her uncontrollably hilarious? "Shopping for art supplies?" he asked, glancing down to the cases of art provisions held under her arm.
She fished them out, absentmindedly hoping that she looked okay before realising with an internal groan that she had Fred's large, ratty Weasley sweater draped over her body to hide her injury from sight. She tried not to wince at this realisation and calmly held her choices out for him to see.
"Needed some new pencils," she told him as casually as she could. "And I thought, since the watercolours were on sale..." He kept grinning, and she felt her cheeks flush under the weight of his warm stare. "What about you?" she asked, desperate to get the attention off of herself.
"Thought I might find you in here," he replied, doing nothing to help the redness of her face. "Seems I was right," he added, giving her his most charming smile, one that made her heart flutter.
"Here I am," she sang awkwardly, wondering why it was she could be so perfectly confident around some people, and yet a quivering mess around others. What was happening to her? "What's up?" she asked, striving to remain casual.
"I wanted to ask you to go to Hogsmeade with me on the first trip in August," he said rather boldly, and her brain short circuited. Winona could do nothing but stare at him, wondering what the actual hell was going on. Did George and Fred put him up to this? Was Lee in on it? Were they hiding behind the display of erasable ink, prepared to leap out and yell 'Gotcha' in the most cruel prank of the century?
No, she told herself, Fred and George wouldn't do that. They never played pranks on her (usually) and certainly not ones so brutal.
"Uh, usually, this is when you would say something," Adam's confident display wavered as he laughed nervously, not knowing what to make of her shocked silence.
"Are you playing a joke on me?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Adam looked wary at the question. "No?" he replied, unsure, but probably only because it was such an unexpected response.
"You're really, properly, asking me out right now?" she confirmed.
"Yes?"
"Then...yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Yes, yes?"
"Yeah, yes."
"Are either of you going to buy anything?" the old wizard behind the counter looked like he wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused. Winona didn't want to give him the opportunity to settle on either.
"These, thank you," she said, plopping the cases of supplies down on the counter and turning back to Adam as the wizard rang them up. "I'm meeting my friends," she told him regretfully, suddenly wishing that she wasn't, so she could spend more time with Adam.
"It's fine," he told her with a smile. "My parents will be wondering where I am, anyway."
"Okay."
"Okay."
"Is someone going to give me the money?" the old wizard interrupted again, this time sounding dangerously close to choosing annoyance over amusement.
Winona quickly dug in her pocket for her coins, but there was the clinking of metal and she looked up in shock to see Adam handing the old wizard the handful of Sickles to cover the cost. Winona blatantly gaped at him, completely unsure how to react.
Adam didn't do anything but smile, reach up to brush a strand of her long, silvery hair from her face. "See you at school," he told her cheerfully, shooting her a final perfect, crooked, charming grin and turning to the door, the little bell jingling as he left.
"Here you go," the old wizard behind the counter said, handing her a small paper bag with her supplies. She felt strangely numb as she took it, turning without feeling towards the door, stepping out into the muggy, summer air.
"Good timing!" George exclaimed, stepping out into the street from the Apothecary with the others at the same time as her.
"You alright?" Fred asked, catching sight of her flushed cheeks and dazed stare. "You're looking a little peaky."
"Am I?" she responded blankly, subconsciously reaching up to brush her fingers over her cheek where Adam's hand had grazed. Lee, George and Fred all looked at her strangely, and she snapped out of it, chastising herself for being so cliché. "Who wants ice cream? My treat," she announced with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. The boys must have wanted the treat enough to dismiss her strange expression as nothing, cheerfully following her through the Alley until they came to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
Lee got his usual, triple chocolate with strawberry chunks. George got his favourite, mint choc-chip. Fred was the wild card, choosing vanilla with nuts and caramel drizzle. Finally, Winona got cookie dough with caramel chunks, and the four of them walked out of the Parlour as very happy kids.
"You're the best, Winnie," Lee told her appreciatively, dribble of melted ice cream running down his wrist from his cone. "Have we told you that recently?"
"Not recently enough."
"You're the best, Winnie!" they all crooned as one, breaking off into laughter before each biting back into their treats. They ate quickly, as the ice cream was melting in the heat anyway, and quickly moved on to Gambol and Japes, where the twins were eager to replenish their stock of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks.
"What's the plan for this batch?" Winona asked as they stepped inside, the scent of gunpowder flooding her nose; it was one she found pleasant, associating it closely with the twins, who always seemed to smell like a joke shop, even after they'd just had showers.
"Haven't decided yet," they said, scanning the labels of products she knew they couldn't afford to purchase. Not today, anyway.
"So many possibilities," began George.
"So little time," finished Fred, both distracted by the large, colourful display of fireworks sitting towards the back of the shop.
She was just turning around to check out the new Exploding Snap editions they had out on the far wall when somebody bumped into her, very nearly knocking her off her feet.
"Sorry!" a familiar voice apologised, and Winona blinked down at Hermione, who stood with Ron and Harry, both more interested in their surroundings than in her.
"Well, if it isn't the Golden Trio," Winona grinned.
"The Golden Trio?" Ron repeated with a scrunched up nose, perplexed by the unfamiliar name.
"What makes you call us that?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in something like suspicion. Winona wasn't sure she deserved to be stared at with such skepticism, but she knew Hermione just well enough to know not to be offended by it.
"Not sure," she replied honestly. "Just came to me."
"Winnie!" Fred yelled from over the heads of a group of pre-teens. Her head shot up at the sound of her name.
"What're they up to now?" Ron asked with a groan, probably imagining all the terrible plans the twins were cooking up in the joke shop.
"Fireworks," Winona told him with an impish grin, enjoying the way he grew nervous.
"Winona!" Fred called again, but a moment later he was right beside her anyhow, holding an armful of fireworks with a loose grin sitting on his face. "Oh, hello kiddly-winks," he greeted the three younger students.
"What are you gonna do with those?" Ron asked warily, eyeing the hoard he held close to his body like he half expected them to suddenly go off right in his face.
"It's better if you don't know anything," George spoke up, materialising by his twin's side. "Plausible deniability."
"What?" Ron had never looked more bewildered.
"Can't stay and chat, I'm afraid!" Fred called, gently kicking Winona in the shin to get her to start moving. She rolled her eyes, shooting the trio a wave before disappearing back into the crowd with the twins. They quickly paid for their mountain of fireworks – which were thankfully on sale and thus, affordable – and led Lee and Winona out of the busy store, onto the even busier street.
"We only have a couple of minutes until we need to be heading to Flourish and Blotts," George told Lee, leaning back to look at the clock on the wall of the closest shop. "Anywhere left you wanna go?"
"I could do with more Cauldron Cakes," Lee said eagerly.
"And I'm almost completely out of Sugar Quills," Winona agreed wholeheartedly, and as one they set off towards Sugarplum's Sweets Shop. It was a violently pink store, the colour never ceasing to give Winona a headache; but inside held the most delicious sweets known to wizard-kind, so she put up with it for as long as it took to gather what Sugar Quills she could afford and made her way to the front counter, paying for them before waiting by the door for the others.
"See you on the train?" Lee confirmed as they parted ways at the mouth of the Alley.
"You know it," Fred agreed, and they once more did their traditional man-hug, George joining in, before Lee swooped down for another chaste, playful kiss on Winona's cheek, then darted away, weighed down with his bags of sweets.
"Flourish and Blotts?" Winona confirmed, and the pair nodded, dragging their own purchases after them as they headed in the other direction, making their way towards the bookstore.
Granted, Flourish and Blotts was one of the more popular shops on Diagon Alley, Winona thought to herself, but this was just ridiculous.
A trail of middle-aged witches led out the door and around the back of the shop, all of them seeming to vibrate with excited energy.
George eyed the line in confusion. "What in the name of Merlin's saggy left-?"
Mrs Weasley cut her son off with a stern bark of his name, and they all turned to see her standing somewhere towards the middle of the line, Percy, Ginny and Mr Weasley already with her, along with Hermione's parents.
"What's going on?" Winona asked curiously, pushing herself up to her toes in an effort to see past the masses of witches crowding the smaller shop. People were getting dangerously close to towers of leaning, unsupported books which looked ready to fall at any moment, but never did, so Winona assumed they were being held up with magic.
"Gilderoy Lockhart is here signing copies of his autobiography!" Mrs Weasley sounded like she was about to break out into a series of ecstatic squeals. Ginny looked up at her mother with a grimace, like she was hoping nobody could tell they were related.
"Oh," Winona murmured lamely, "...cool."
"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley abruptly. Winona and the twins turned, seeing Ron, Harry and Hermione wander over to them, casting wary glances at the giggling women in the exceedingly long line. "We'll be able to see him in a minute..." Mrs Weasley added, touching her hair nervously.
The large woman in front of them shifted to the side and Gilderoy Lockhart came into view. He was handsome, Winona had to admit, but looking at the blue of his robes only made her think of Adam's robes, and she wondered where he was, and if she'd get a chance to see him again before school began.
Winona was so lost in her wistful musings that it wasn't until she noticed every eye in the room was focused in her direction that she snapped out of it. Blinking, she swivelled around, mystified by the sudden attention she appeared to be receiving. Had she said something embarrassing aloud? Or worse, had she gone into an episode and not realised?
Thankfully, all her fears were put to rest as she realised everyone was actually staring at Harry, who stood just to her left. Lockhart leapt across the space between them, grasping Harry none too gently by the arm and yanking him to the front.
The crowd burst into inexplicable applause.
"I don't get it," Winona whispered to the twins. "He didn't even do anything."
"He defeated You-Know-Who when he was a baby," Fred replied.
"Yeah, Win, get with the program," George added.
She snorted, shoving them both and turning her attention back to the situation. Harry looked like he was praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole; his face was so red she wondered if he was going to pass out.
"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart was saying brightly. "Together, you and I are worth the front page." There was a pause as Harry attempted to shuffle back closer to the Weasleys, but the author seized him again, holding him in place against his will. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced loudly, waving for quiet. Slowly, the room descended into silence, the gathered witches hanging on his every word. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!
"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —" The crowd applauded again like, for this act alone, the man was worthy of sainthood. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made the kid's glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd around her went wild, but Winona wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan, so she ended up doing a little of both. "One of the only classes I actually like and this tosser is the one taking it over?" she asked them when they turned to look at her, matching grimaces on their faces.
"On the bright side, it should be an easy pass," George said optimistically.
"And anyone's better than a guy with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on the back of his skull, right?" Fred added. Winona had to laugh, giving him another shove as she turned to look for her required Spell Book for the year.
She was just wondering whether it was possible they'd run out of copies when she felt a tingle zing down the length of her spine. She went ramrod straight, eyes turning glassy, though, curiously enough, she didn't slip into a blind episode as she normally did. Instead she felt just an instinct, a sense of what was about to happen.
It both relieved and terrified her. Her abilities were to evolving, and she loathed the unknown.
"Fred," she said, somehow knowing what needed to be done. "Something's wrong."
"What?" Fred turned to look at her, bewildered by the vague comment before catching sight of the look on her face. "What?" he repeated, lowering his voice and stepping closer.
"It's Ginny," she said, turning around and scanning the shop, looking for the youngest of the Weasley clan. She spotted Hermione's head of bushy brown hair first and knew that was the right direction. She immediately followed it, dragging Fred behind her, who in turn dragged George, which got the attention of Mr Weasley.
By the time they reached them, Harry and Hermione were holding back a struggling Ron, and Ginny looked about as red as a tomato. "Ron!" Mr Weasley cried, pushing ahead and placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."
"Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley."
The voice that spoke was cold and disdainful, and the very sound of it made Winona nauseas. She looked up, reaching a hand into her pocket and wrapping her fingers around her wand. She usually didn't take it anywhere with her outside of school – knowing it was virtually pointless – but she'd decided at the last minute that morning to bring it along with her.
She couldn't use magic without getting into trouble, but the familiar wood was warm against her palm and it calmed her just to know it was there.
The newcomer was Draco Malfoy's father. He stood tall, a pretentious cane held in his hand, white-blonde hair slicked back, a sneer fixed onto his pointed features.
"Lucius," said Mr Weasley, nodding coldly.
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr Malfoy drawled. "All those raids…I hope they're paying you overtime?"
He reached into the small cauldron that Ginny was holding, and again, Winona's skin prickled, like tiny needles all over her body. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, she knew as she watched him extract the old, battered copy of one of her secondhand schoolbooks.
"Obviously not," Mr Malfoy all but purred, and the sound made Winona want to hurl. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"
Mr Weasley flushed a dangerous shade of red, borderline purple, and she unthinkingly reached out, pressing a hand to the taller man's arm. Lucius Malfoy's cold, lifeless eyes darted to her and she sneered back, just daring him to try something.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Mr Weasley said, impressively calm considering the circumstances.
"Clearly," drawled Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr and Mrs Granger, who were watching apprehensively. The sneer on his face became more pronounced, and sensing that this interaction was about to go very wrong, Winona yanked at Mr Weasley's arm, but she wasn't very big, or strong, and it seemed to make no difference. "The company you keep, Weasley…and I thought your family could sink no lower —"
Mr Weasley threw himself at Malfoy, knocking the pristinely dressed man into a bookshelf that toppled over, thuds echoing around the room as heavy tomes slammed against the floor.
"Get him, Dad!" Fred yelled eagerly. George hooted loudly in agreement.
"Shit," Winona cursed, suddenly exhausted from it all and in need of a long, hot bath. There was nothing she could do. The twins were cheering, Harry and his friends watched on in shock and Mrs Weasley was crying for her husband to stop – all she was capable of was sighing and stepping back, letting the wizards sort it out as they would. She wasn't exactly in a place to judge – she'd gotten in her fair share of fights. She understood the need to bash her fist into someone's face – particularly if that person was a Malfoy.
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up —" a booming voice carried over all the other noise, and then Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. He reached down with all the ease of a giant and yanked Mr Weasley and Malfoy apart. Mr Weasley's lip was bleeding, but he'd given Malfoy a brilliant black eye, so Winona would call it a pretty even outcome.
The Pure-blood supremacist stood to his feet, still clutching Ginny's old Transfiguration book in a tight grip. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with unrestrained malice. "Here, girl — take your book — it's the best your father can give you —" he spat, then, pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip, he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.
Hagrid was muttering to Mr Weasley, who was wiping at his lip with a pained grimace. The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them from leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs Weasley beside herself with fury.
"Well, that was…interesting, to say the least," Winona murmured to the twins as they made their way back, subdued, to the Leaky Cauldron.
"You said something was wrong with Ginny," Fred murmured quietly, so that none of the others would overhear. "But she was fine – it had nothing to do with her."
Winona didn't understand it herself. "I guess I was just wrong," she shrugged, because what else could it possibly be? Ginny was fine, there was no danger, and she was sure this year was going to be much more quiet than the last.
...Probably not, but a girl could dream.