Christmastime at Hogwarts was the best part of any year. Winona always stayed because a lonely castle was better than a lonely foster home. All the Weasley's stayed over break that year too, what with their parents being in Egypt visiting Bill.
Fred and George spent all of their time with her, claiming it was to help her get 'over Adam'. She liked spending time with them – making up for all the time they'd missed while Adam had been domineering all of her spare time – but the constant watch they kept on her never let up, and it began to grow old quickly.
She finally cracked on Christmas Eve, when they sat on the ground in front of her, messing around with some Gobstones but glancing up at her every other moment.
"Are you sure you're okay?" George asked warily, for about the millionth time since term had ended.
Without looking up from her halfhearted sketching, Winona replied, "you know I'm already dead inside, Georgie." The twins gave snorted, but neither looked particularly convinced. Feeling their stares on her face, she huffed as she dropped her book to glare at them both sternly. "I'm fine. I'm not about to break out into tears over this, okay? I'm fine."
They still looked wholly unconvinced.
"Will you please leave me alone?" she begged. "Stop watching me like I'm going to explode – because I'm not."
"Kind of like you are right now?" asked Fred with raised eyebrows.
"You'd get sick of it too if your best mate wouldn't stop staring you like they were sure you were going to break down," she replied, picking up her sketchbook and returning to her work, pencil pressing so hard into the parchment it left an indent.
From in front of her, Fred and George exchanged a look that she blatantly ignored, then George murmured an excuse to go up to the dorm while Fred stood from the ground, taking a seat on the cushion to her left. George disappeared and Fred said nothing, pulling at a loose thread on his jumper.
"So you drew the short straw?" she finally asked once the silence became too much.
He didn't bother acknowledging the somewhat bitter remark. "Are you really okay?" he asked instead, turning on the couch to face her. She stubbornly refused to look up from her sketch of a unicorn and its foal.
"If you ask me that one more time, Fred, I swear to Merlin I'll jab this pencil into your eye," she told him without so much a ounce of doubt. Fred said nothing, and she sighed. "Why are you two so convinced that I'm not okay?" she demanded, exasperation thrumming through her veins.
"We're just worried," he said quietly. "Breaking up with someone is a big deal – or so Witch Weekly says."
She glanced up, incredulous. "Since when are you reading Witch Weekly?"
"Since they had an article on breakups," he replied without flinching, refusing to be embarrassed. "We thought looking into it might help."
Despite herself Winona had to smile, and she finally looked up from her sketch to meet his eyes, seeing within them nothing but genuine concern. "I was the one to break things off," she reminded him evenly. "It was for the best."
"He was your first love," he replied with only a hint of stilted awkwardness, and she knew it was a term he'd gotten from his magazine research. She smiled in fond amusement.
"I wasn't in love with the guy, Fred," she told him. "I was in love with the idea of the guy. With the attention he gave me." She paused, turning back to her sketch for somewhere to look other than his eyes. "But it doesn't matter – anyone with anything against Harry isn't right for me."
"You really care about the kid, don't you?" Fred mused thoughtfully.
She smiled softly, the expression a little helpless. "I can't explain it," she admitted. "I just feel responsible for him. Like we're connected, in some way…I just can't figure out how." She sighed. "Anyway, I think I knew it was over with Adam the moment he asked if it was safe for me to spend any time with Harry," she said simply. "Breaking things off was the right thing to do. Wish I'd done it sooner."
"And you're sure you're okay-"
"Fred! Pencil – eye."
"Right."
"Can we just talk about something else? Let's play a game. Anything is better than the two of you babysitting me like this."
Fred looked intrigued. "Okay, we'll play a game. You pick."
She grinned, the expression full of relief. "Ever hear of Pictionary?"
So that was how they spent their Christmas Eve. George went and fetched Harry, Ron and Hermione, then both trios formed teams and played against one another. It was the most fun Winona had had all term. She felt happy, and despite the twins' hovering, she found herself free and bright, spending time with the best of her friends.
Winona woke up Christmas morning alone in the dorm. She didn't mind, it was calm and peaceful, and she took an extra half hour to doze before sitting up to attack the pile of presents on the end of her bed.
Harry and Ron pitched in and got her some Every Flavour Beans, and Hermione had gotten her – to nobody's surprise – a book. It was on art history in the Wizarding world, so clearly Hermione had found a way around her aversion to reading. Sneaky little blighter.
Mrs Weasley sent some treacle tart and a new sweater in the usual shade of purple with a large golden W stitched into the front. Lee sent her a month's supply of Sugar Quills, and she popped one into her mouth before moving onto the next present.
Angelina and the other girls had gotten together to buy her a nice sundress to 'wear over the summer', as they had said in their letter, and finally, the twins had sent her a case of vials full of an array of coloured glitter from Scribbulus' Writing Instruments in Diagon Alley. She hadn't seen it the last time she'd been in, and realised they must have ordered it by owl for her, making her smile happily.
For mayhem – because there's nothing funnier than a face full of glitter! it said in George's block letters.
Or maybe art purposes...probably art purposes... Fred had written underneath in his sharp chicken-scratch, making her grin widely as she peered inside at the bright glitter that she just knew was going to get everywhere.
But soon, almost too soon for Winona's liking, the break came to an end and the common room was once again full of rowdy Gryffindors. She found Alicia and Lee first, and took a seat beside the former, watching as they played a game of Exploding Snap by the space in front of the fire.
Alicia looked up in time to miss a face full of smoke from the exploding cards, and Winona grinned at her. "Wotcher, you two," she said, reaching across to pat Lee on top of his piled dreadlocks like he were a good pet.
"How was your Christmas?" he asked, dealing out a set of cards for Winona, who took them quickly, glancing at her hand before slapping down the right card and allowing him to follow.
"Good," she told him, watching as Alicia played her turn with a hesitant move.
"Did you like your dress?" Alicia asked eagerly.
"Love it," she smiled. "What about you? Do you like the earrings we picked out?"
Alicia pushed back her wiry black hair to reveal the cute little lion earrings that Winona and the other girls in the dorm had picked out over catalogue. She grinned, turning back to the card game. "So I heard you and Prince Charming broke up," Lee began conversationally when they began their second game.
"We did," she confirmed, keeping her eyes on her cards. "Who told you?"
"Fred and George did, in their letter," he replied, and Winona rolled her eyes – she should have known.
"How're you holding up?" Alicia asked compassionately, as though expecting her friend to burst into tears over the conversation topic.
Winona tossed her a small smile despite the annoyance coiled in her gut at the question, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm fine," she said evenly. "I broke up with him – it wasn't working out." She paused, then asked, "what about you?" She was eager to get the conversation off of herself. "Any boys we should be hearing about?"
Lee gave a gossipy gasp that made both girls laugh, and Alicia shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing worth mentioning," she said, but there was a slight glint to her eyes that made Winona promise to bring it up later, when Lee wasn't around.
She opened her mouth to talk, only for her vision to flicker in and out, like somebody was rapidly switching the lights on and off. Knowing what this meant, she grasped her bag of supplies, murmured something vague about the bathroom, then stumbled up to the dorm just as the vision gripped her tightly, dragging her under.
When she came back out to the present and looked down at her sketch, she was only confused.
There was a mirror, a small one, in a library, being held by Hermione. She couldn't her face, but that head of bushy hair was unmistakable. There was nothing overly exciting happening in the sketch, nothing particularly good or bad, but as she stared down at it, she got the strongest sense of wrong.
Whenever this was going to happen, it wasn't going to lead to anything good.
The first thing that Winona knew she needed to do was find Hermione, only the second year student wasn't in any of her usual haunts. Worry sat in her gut like sour milk, and she was thinking the worst when she ran into Harry and Ron, who were on their way back from the owlery.
"Thank Merlin," she breathed, coming to a hasty stop in front of them. "Where's Hermione?"
"Hello to you too, Winnie," Ron drawled sarcastically, but the witch was not in the mood.
"Hermione?" she repeated, the knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach.
"She's in the hospital wing," Harry revealed, and Winona just about gasped in panic.
"She's not-?"
"No," he shook his head quickly, and she sagged with obvious relief. "The Polyjuice Potion went wrong – she accidentally used cat hair instead of human. She's fine, but Madam Pomfrey says she'll be there awhile."
"Is she allowed visitors?" Winona asked hopefully.
"We go see her every day," Ron nodded. "But she's really embarrassed about all the fur, so don't make a big deal of it," he added, giving a grimace, and Winona decided he was definitely speaking from experience.
She gave them a grateful smile, then turned to go. "Hang on, is everything okay?" Harry's voice stopped her, and she turned to frown at him. "You haven't had a vision or something, have you?" he asked, concerned.
"When I know what it means, I'll tell you," she promised him, though the pair didn't look overly satisfied with the response. "Wait, what happened with the plan?" she asked, remembering what they'd been working on over Christmas. She'd seen them over the whole break, but she'd almost always been with the twins and didn't want to bring up their ingenious plan with those two human bludgers around. "Did Malfoy reveal anything?" she asked eagerly.
The boys' expressions turned sour, and Ron scowled at the floor. "He isn't the Heir," Harry told her quietly, sounding much too weary for someone who was only twelve years old. "And he doesn't even know who is."
"So, we've got nothing?" she asked, suddenly tired.
"We've got nothing," he agreed, and she sighed.
"Well, it was worth a shot," she told them, and they gave halfhearted shrugs in response. She shot them a tired smile and turned, heading straight for the hospital wing, disappointment bubbling in her gut.
Madam Pomfrey wasn't anywhere in sight when Winona entered, but she spotted Hermione right away, sitting in the far left corner, skin covered by bristly black fur.
"Winona!" the girl exclaimed at the sight of her, flinching as though to cover her face, but she'd already seen it all, so there really wasn't any point.
"Looking hot, 'Mione," Winona smirked, wandering over to her and taking a seat on the chair provided. The second year groaned, dropping her feline features into her hands defeatedly. "I'm kidding," she said with a small laugh, reaching out to pat her gently on her legs, which were covered by thick blankets. "Don't be embarrassed, happens to the best of us."
Hermione looked up, her eyes a startling, inhuman yellow. She looked like she very much doubted the truth in Winona's statement.
"Once, in second year, an incident in Potions burnt George's hair off," she said, and Hermione's feline eyes went wide. "He was so embarrassed that he nicked a vile of Hair-Growth Potion from Snape's stores, but didn't know how much to take so he just downed the whole thing. Ten minutes later, there's hair growing from every part of his body!" Hermione spluttered a laugh of surprise. "I'm not even kidding, he looked like a ginger version of Cousin Itt!"
Hermione giggled some more and Winona grinned proudly, glad she'd gotten the girl to laugh. It really was the best medicine, in her experience.
"What happened?" Hermione asked once she'd calmed down and stopped picturing George like a tiny, twelve-year-old Wookiee.
"Came here, of course," Winona replied with another laugh. "Pomfrey doesn't ask too many questions, thankfully."
"How did they get rid of it all?"
"It was all over him, so we couldn't use severing charms, instead we just dug out some medical scissors and all took turns trimming it down."
Hermione smiled, yellow eyes watering slightly as she turned her gaze to her furry hands. "Was he embarrassed?" the younger witch asked, and Winona grinned.
"It was George," she reminded her. "So he'll swear he wasn't…but I think he kinda was," she divulged, and Hermione smiled again. "We all make mistakes, and, give it a year or so; you'll look back at this and laugh – I promise you."
The door on the other side of the room opened, and Madam Pomfrey was striding in, two vials of potions held in a steady hand. "I'm afraid Miss Granger needs rest, Miss Andrews," she tutted as she approached. "You can visit her tomorrow."
Winona climbed to her feet, shooting Hermione a smile. "If you need anything..." she trailed off, and Hermione nodded her thanks. With a final smile, Winona turned and left the hospital wing. She was satisfied that Hermione wasn't in danger – for now. She'd just have to keen a close eye on her, try and feel when the bad things would start to happen, in that way she couldn't explain but always experienced.
"There you are!" exclaimed Fred when she climbed through the portrait hole to the common room. "Where've you been?!"
"Had something to take care of," she replied vaguely, but he didn't push her for more information. She was distracted, and wandered over to the stairs leading to the girls' dorms.
"You haven't even said hello to us yet!" George called out from behind her, and she rolled her eyes at their usual, ridiculous dramatics.
"Sorry," she apologised to them with a sugary smile, spinning around and pushing herself up on her toes to wrap her arms around George's neck, pulling him down in a firm hug. He laughed, patting her firmly on the back, and she pulled away with a grin. "Better now?" she asked, bopping him on the nose in a move that seemed more cheerful than she felt.
"Much," he beamed as she moved on to Fred. She pushed herself up again, pulling the other twin into a big, warm embrace. He was firm and smelled like gunpowder, but the scent was comforting, and she rested her chin on his shoulder for a long moment, breathing it in as his arms wound around her waist, hugging her back tightly.
"Get up to much mischief in the last hour since I saw you?" she asked dryly, finally pulling away from him to smile up into his eyes, and he grinned back roguishly.
"You know it," he told her cheerfully, and she bopped him on the nose as well, noting that his arms now sat carelessly over her hips, the position casual and easy. She felt the urge to hug him again, but that would be weird, so she merely grinned back and extracted herself from his gentle grip, dropping back down to her regular height and crossing her arms over her chest. "What's going on?" Fred asked, as always, able to read her like a bloody book.
"Had a vision," she replied carefully, glancing over her shoulder to ensure nobody was close enough to hear. "Here," she said, jerking her head in the direction of the window in the corner. It was firmly closed, the chill from outside too great to keep it open. She took a seat at the small table beneath it and the twins hovered over her, watching intently as she pulled out her sketchbook and flipped it to the page with the predictive sketch scrawled onto the parchment.
"What is that supposed to be?" Fred asked from above her, leaning over the table to get a better look, his twin looking as puzzled as he did.
"Hermione," she replied lamely, not having the answers herself.
"Thanks, Auror Obvious," George drawled sarcastically, but she paid him no heed.
"All I know is that when I look at it? I get a really bad feeling in my gut," she told them softly, gazing down at the rough but clear sketch, unsure what to make of it. She had the greatest sense that she needed to do something, though what, she hadn't the slightest clue. "Something bad's going to happen to Hermione," she murmured, the words making her feel sick. "Unless I stop it."
"Whoa," Fred said, abruptly standing straight and tugging at her shoulder until she was facing him, a look of confusion and concern splayed over his face. "You stop it?"
"Yeah," Winona nodded, not understanding the big deal.
"Do you know where this is going to happen? Or when?"
She paused, not appreciating him poking holes in her plan, even though she knew he was right. "I'm hoping I'll know when the time comes," she told him with a frown.
"You're hoping?" he repeated, looking at her like she'd gone insane. George was watching the interaction, face carefully devoid of emotion.
"Look, I'm not saying I'm going to jump in front of a dark curse to save her or anything, I'm just saying I'm going to do everything I can to prevent this from happening," she said, growing defensive.
"Why is that your job?" he asked her, sounding irritated.
"Because I'm the one who gets the visions," she replied with waning patience.
"So now you're in charge of stopping every bad thing you ever see from happening?"
"Why else would I get the visions?"
"To tell Dumbledore, that sounds like a much better plan!"
"I can't go running to Dumbledore for every little thing!"
"You don't have to – and this isn't little!"
"Guys!" George shouted, and the arguing pair fell quiet, realising their voices had been raised and the few Gryffindors milling around the common room were staring at them bewilderedly, never having thought they'd ever see Winona and a Weasley twin in a fight.
"You've never wanted to go to Dumbledore, ever, for anything," she hissed at him, lowering her voice. "Why now?"
"It's just different, this time," he hissed back, though his words lacked anger, replaced by exasperation.
"Why?" she pressed stubbornly.
"Because you could get hurt," he said, all bite gone from his tone; now he only sounded tired. "It's different, because it's you on the line, not us," he told her sincerely, and she felt her heart swell in her chest.
"I appreciate the concern," she told him gently, a soft, understanding smile flickering to life on her face. "I really do, but this is my problem, and I'm going to deal with it how I think it needs to be dealt with."
He stared at her, eyes large and pensive, before he nodded, losing the fight. "I can't stop you," he murmured, more to himself than to her.
"But I love you all the more for trying," she added, shooting him a gentle but sincere smile, stepping closer and pushing herself up onto her toes so she could reach his cheek, pressing her lips to it and holding back a giggle as she was met with a light stubble that she hadn't even realised was there. They really were growing up.
She pulled back, and he was staring at her, a contemplative glint to his eyes, like there was something he didn't understand. She patted the cheek she'd kissed, then stepped back onto the flats of her feet. "I'll see you trolls in the morning," she told them both lightheartedly, and George sent her a smile before the pair watched her disappear up the stairs and around the corner.
The month of January passed quickly and things returned to normal. There were no attacks, though the school was still abuzz with whispers, everyone contemplating when the next attack would be. Nobody went anywhere by themselves, especially if they were Muggleborn.
Adam would sometimes send her long looks from across the Great Hall. She always responded with nothing but a polite smile before she went back to what she was doing, and soon enough the looks stopped coming.
Lockhart was as ridiculous as ever, his outfits getting more and more atrocious, and his lessons getting duller and duller, to the point where people had begun to fall asleep during them, which was an activity usually left for Binns' class.
Winona kept her eye on Hermione, who was soon enough let out of the hospital wing, fully human once again. She waited, watching closely for any sign that something was coming, that her vision was moments away from coming true, but it never came.
She knew she should have told Dumbledore, but something inside her was telling her to keep it to herself. She'd already kept a sketch from him once, after all, and he hadn't smitten her for it like the hand of God. She felt like getting too many people involved would push everything off course. She couldn't tell you how she knew this, it was like different coloured strings in her mind, some she pulled and things went bad, others she pulled and things happened exactly as they were supposed to.
Before they knew it, it was February fourteenth, and Winona was waking up to the excited chittering of her dorm mates.
"I'm hoping Cedric Diggory will send me some roses," Alicia was saying to the others, who were all wandering around getting ready for the day as they chatted. "We've been making eyes at each other in Herbology all year."
"I heard he had a thing for Cho Chang," said Hope casually, running an enchanted brush through her hair that straightened it magically. Winona rolled out of bed, pulling on her uniform with a yawn and making a beeline for the bathroom to brush her teeth. "Shame you broke up with Adam, Winona," Hope added as she passed. "You couldn't have held out another month?"
"Stay with him longer just so I wouldn't be single on Valentines Day?" she asked with a toothbrush between her teeth. Hope didn't seem to see a problem with this, nodded fervently, to which Winona decided deserved no reply.
"Come on," Alicia was saying to Hope, thankfully distracting her, "I don't want to be late for breakfast in case Cedric wants to make a grand romantic gesture."
Winona snorted around her mouthful of toothpaste, but neither seemed to notice. The door to the dorm shut loudly, and Winona assumed she was alone, rinsing her mouth and picking up a comb to tame her mussed hair before turning to leave, only to stop short at the sight of Angelina standing just inside the other room, hands twisted together anxiously, clearly waiting for her to be done.
"Sorry, did you want the loo?" Winona asked, stepping out of the way, but she only shook her head, strangely nervous.
"Can we...talk?" Angelina asked slowly.
"'Course," Winona nodded, heading over to her bed and sitting down, yanking on her sneakers one by one. "What's up, Ange?"
"I don't want this to be weird…"
"Then don't make it weird," Winona replied simply, never usually one to find situations awkward. "Come on, spill," she said with a soft smile, picking up her Gryffindor tie and throwing the loop over her head, tightening the knot to her neck even though she knew she'd last barely five minutes before loosening it again.
"I kind of…like someone," Angelina said, and Winona imagined that if her skin weren't so dark, she'd have seen her blushing.
"Ooh," she responded cheerfully, shooting her friend a teasing glance. "Go on, then, who is it?" she prompted eagerly when it didn't seem like Ange was going to tell her on her own.
"It's Fred," Angelina said. Winona blinked in surprise. Then she blinked again.
"Okay," she said slowly, processing this and trying to figure out what it meant. "Why would that be weird?"
"Because he's your best mate," Ange said like it were obvious. Winona's eyebrows hit her hairline.
"Okay," she said again, "and why're you telling me?"
"I thought, well, I know you're closer with the twins, but you're my best mate besides Katie and Alicia."
"And why not tell one of them?"
"Well, Katie can't keep a secret to save her life," Ange chuckled, but the sound was nervous. "And Alicia would probably tell Fred in an attempt to set us up, and I don't want that. I want it to be natural."
"Right," Winona said, but she still didn't get it. Then, as Angelina stared at her quietly, she understood. "And you think I have the best insight into how to win Fred over," she said, it all making sense now.
"I know you do," Ange was nodding eagerly. "You said it yourself a few weeks ago; you know those boys better than you know yourself."
It was true, she had said as much. "What do you want me to do?" she asked, wary.
"Just put in a good word," she replied quickly. "But casually. In a way that doesn't let him know I already like him."
"Gotcha," Winona nodded, although she did not, indeed, 'get her'. What did that even mean? What was she meant to say? 'Check out Angelina's dope arse, by the way, she's single'?
"You're the best," Angelina told her happily, stepping closer to pull her friend into a side-hug, then stepped away and gestured to the door. "Breakfast?"
"Gladly," she nodded, leading the way from the dorm and down the stairs. The common room was nearly empty, and it might have just been as it was any other day, except there were strings of pink, cut-out paper hearts hung up across each of the windows.
Grimacing, Winona sincerely hoped that was the only cheesy decoration she had to suffer through this Valentines Day.
Unfortunately, she was very, very disappointed only five minutes later.
The Great Hall was decked out like the inside of a twelve year old girl's bedroom. Massive, pink, paper mache hearts were stuck along every wall, and heart-shaped confetti floated down from the enchanted ceiling, spilling into everybody's breakfast and just causing general irritation.
"Brilliant," Winona said with heavy sarcasm, eyeing the Hall with disgust.
"Don't be such a Grinch," Angelina laughed, glancing around at the lurid decorations with a critical but happy eye. "It's a little over the top, but I think it's kinda sweet," she said, holding out her hand and catching some of the confetti.
"Can you actually believe this?" Winona asked the twins when she slid onto the bench opposite them, already pulling eggs onto her plate, ducking out of the way of a particularly large piece of falling confetti. "Since when does Dumbledore force us to celebrate Valentines Day?"
"Oh, I don't think Dumbledore's the one behind this, Win," Fred said, casting a glance up at the teacher's table where Lockhart, donned in sickeningly pink, elaborate robes, was standing to his feet and waving for everyone's attention.
"Should have guessed," Winona rolled her eyes, not bothering to pay attention as Lockhart spoke, instead turning her attention to salting her breakfast.
"Happy Valentine's Day!" the idiot was shouting grandly. Winona groaned at the stupid, lilting tone his voice took on. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards!"
Alicia let out something of a tiny squeak from behind her, and Winona spun around to stare at her with wide eyes. Her friend was blushing, tugging sweetly at a lock of dark hair. They would definitely be revisiting that later.
"Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"
Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. They were dressed up like Cupids, complete with glittering wings and glistening golden harps.
Winona snorted loudly into her goblet, nearly choking on her juice.
"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" trilled Lockhart from the front. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"
Winona turned to look at Fred and George in excitement. "Three sickles to the first of you to ask Snape how to brew a love potion," she dared, grinning at them impishly.
"You're on," Fred beamed back, turning to look at Snape, already considering how best to approach him.
"Come on," said Angelina suddenly, glancing down at her watch. "We're going to be late for History of Magic."
The twins gave a simultaneous groan that Winona vehemently agreed with, but they all allowed Angelina to tug them in the direction of Binns' classroom. They were halfway there when the greatest thing to ever happen, happened right in front of them.
One of the cupid-dressed goblins was straddling a struggling Harry, and the four friends came to an abrupt stop, along with the rest of the gathering crowd.
"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord."
Everyone burst into laughter, though none so loud as the twins, who had to hold themselves upright so as not to fall over. Winona cackled loudly, although she couldn't help but feel a little bad for the kid, who was blushing bright red, utterly mortified by the poem. The twins were brushing tears of mirth from their eyes as Percy sternly ushered them out of the corridor and into Binns' classroom.
The twins were still chuckling over it when the teacher himself wandered casually through the blackboard and began the lesson.
That night, the twins had decided not to let Harry forget it for even a moment, singing, "his eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad," over and over in low, grouchy little goblin voices, until finally Harry had enough and fled the common room, disappearing up into his dorm.
Winona giggled, curled into the corner of a couch, watching as the twins settled into the empty spots on her right, expressing how 'disappointed' they were to not have received any Valentines themselves.
A throat cleared from behind her and Winona turned to see Angelina staring, trying to tell her something with her eyes. Confused, Winona mouthed, "what?" but the other girl only looked at Fred pointedly. Unfortunately, with a strained grimace, Winona got the message.
"Hey, Freddie," she began.
"No."
"What?" she asked, bewildered.
"You only call me Freddie when you want something," he drawled, tossing her an innocent look that was tined by mirth. She sent him a flat expression and he sighed, like he were doing her a huge favour by asking, "what is it?"
"You ever think of Ange…like…romantically?"
George choked on his mouthful of water, spitting it from his lips, and Fred blinked at her in shock. "Uh, not particularly," he answered her, frowning. She could understand the confusion, but she'd never claimed to be any good at subtlety.
"Well…maybe you should?" she said, awkward enough that it sounded like a question.
Fred was blinking, trying to understand. "Why?" he asked slowly, as George was holding his chest, trying to suppress his cackles.
"Because she's pretty, and I think she's great and that you two would be a good match," she told him, sounding stilted, like she were reading the words off a page.
He stared, clearly not buying it for a second. "Weren't you only just telling me to ask out Emma?" he asked, suspicious.
"Dammit," she cussed, deciding this was all too difficult. "Okay, fine," she hissed, keeping her voice low and her expression clear, so it seemed like they were just chatting about something inconsequential. "Look, Ange likes you," she told him in an undertone, and his eyebrows just about hit his hairline.
"But that doesn't make sense," George spoke up, and Winona leaned around Fred to look at him. "She can't even tell us apart half the time – how does she know which one of us she likes?"
"I don't know, shall I go over there and ask her?" she asked sweetly. George rolled his eyes, knowing answering was like walking into a trap. "All I know is, she told me to subtly put in a good word."
"Well, just so you're aware, you're rubbish at the whole 'subtle' thing," Fred told her dryly, and she scrunched up her face at him childishly.
"So, what're you gonna do about it?" she asked him after a moment, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.
"I dunno," he murmured, caught off guard.
"You've gotta choose," she told him with a tongue-in-teeth grin. "Emma or Ange."
"Considering Emma barely knows he exists, his options really aren't that numerous," George interjected. Winona laughed, reclining back on the couch and throwing her legs over the twins' laps, her thighs resting over Fred's, and her ankles on George's.
"What do you think I should do?" Fred asked Winona, looking pensive. It was a rare look on him – when it came to most things in life, he tended to have a make-it-up-as-he-went-along outlook. Introspective wasn't really in his vocabulary.
But honestly, why ask her? "How should I know?"
"You're the Seer."
"I don't read palms at a travelling carnival, Fred," she told him snippily, but he didn't seem to understand what she was saying. "What I mean is, I can't tell you things like that. I've no idea."
Fred still looked thoughtful. "And to believe, just last year we still thought girls were gross," George said slyly, and Winona let out a peal of laughter that made even Fred crack a grin. Lee wandered over and they got caught up in a conversation about the recurring nightmares involving mandrakes their dreadlocked friend was suffering from.
Winona let the matter of Angelina drop, but every now and then throughout the night, she'd glance over at Fred to find his lips pursed and his brow furrowed, like he were trying to do an equation in his head. She wondered what he'd do about Angelina, or even if he'd do anything at all.
It's none of my business, she reminded herself. Because it wasn't, not really. Beyond coming to her for advice – which, in truth, she kind of hoped they never did – whatever happened now was up to them.
The days passed quickly, rushing by like time were running a race against itself, and there were still no more attacks. Winona began to feel a false sense of security wrap around the school like a blanket, and it only set her more on edge.
"Maybe whoever it was has given up," suggested Lee one afternoon as they wandered through the courtyard and out onto the grounds, making their way down to Care of Magical Creatures.
"Or maybe they're just biding their time, so that just when everybody thinks they're safe…bam!" Fred shouted dramatically. Hope flinched from where she was walking ahead of them. "He strikes again..." he finished ominously. Her friends glanced over their shoulders warily, as though concerned the beast was going to apparate before them and attack right there on the school lawns in the middle of a sunny the day.
"Don't be a prick," Winona warned him, but he only grinned back roguishly and she knew it was pointless.
A few nights later Harry came up to her in the common room. She looked up from her drawing of a Niffler pocketing gold coins, eyebrows raised.
"What can I do for you, Boy-Wonder?" she asked him lightly, sitting up from where she was slouched in the couch cushions like she owned the place.
"I wanted to ask your opinion on something," he said, gingerly taking a seat beside her once she'd moved her legs and flattening out a crumpled piece of parchment. "Which electives do you think I should choose?" he asked.
She cast a look to the parchment, seeing it had each class option written in scrawled green letters. It looked identical to the one she'd gotten in second year, and not for the first time she wondered whether McGonagall did them all by hand.
"Why're you asking me?" she wondered. Harry gave no real answer, lifting his shoulders in a vague shrug.
"You must do Divination, right?" he assumed, because of the whole 'Seer thing'.
"I don't, actually," she told him, to his surprise. "I tried it in third year, but all the scents and teas and things in Trelawney's attic kept triggering visions," she revealed softly. "I had to drop it. Now I study with Trelawney once a month, alone, so as to not alarm anyone."
"Oh," Harry murmured. "What do you take, then?"
"Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy."
"Are they good?"
"I'll be honest, you only want to take Arithmancy if you've got a serious passion for numbers. Otherwise you'll hate it."
"Duly noted. And Care of Magical Creatures?"
"Is brilliant, one of my favourite classes!" she told him enthusiastically. "I'd definitely recommend it." She paused, leaning closer. "I don't wanna say anything bad about it, since it's kind of what my whole world revolves around these days, but if you're looking for a class that's just an easy pass, Divination is the way to go," she whispered conspiratorially, "the whole thing is sort of a joke unless you're an actual Seer, which is rare, so I don't think you're in any danger."
Harry smiled, seeming to find amusement in her suggestion. "Sometimes I forget not all girls are like Hermione," he confessed with a grin, his emerald eyes sparkling.
"Hermione and I are what most would call 'polar opposites' when it comes to our studies," she admitted. "Besides, you don't need eight OWLs to be an artist!" she added at a normal tone, grinning and folding her legs up under herself, cradling her sketchbook in her lap.
Harry smiled. "Thanks, Winnie."
"Any time, Boy-Wonder," she told him lightly, and he smiled once more before heading back over to Ron and Hermione, the latter of which looked about ready to explode with anxiety.
She was just settling back into her sketching when a vision hit. It was a gentle one, all things considered, and she merely slipped into flickering darkness, scenes playing out before her eyes too fast for her to comprehend, her body lost to the current of time.
Next thing she knew she was blinking her eyes against the warm lighting in the common room, the twins sitting in front of her, watching her closely.
"There you are," Fred said when she met his eyes. "Welcome back," he added with a smile, the words slowly becoming something of a tradition between them.
"How long?" she asked quietly, glancing around and noticing that most of the people who had been in the room before were now gone, only some seventh years and a group of hard-at-work fifth years to be seen.
"About thirty minutes," George answered her.
"Did anyone-"
"Lee and Angelina, but we told them you were in a mood and to leave you alone."
Winona sighed in relief, finally allowing herself to glance down at her prediction. It was Hermione again – why did so many of her visions centre around Hermione, lately? – she was standing in a simple sweater, in the hospital wing. She looked older than she did now, her baby fat gone. Behind her was Ron, laying in a bed, his leg in a cast.
Some kind of strange necklace hung around Hermione's neck. She held the trinket on the chain carefully, like it were very valuable. It was like an hourglass, and Winona had unknowingly coloured it in shimmering gold, the only part of the piece that wasn't black and white.
She held it up, letting the twins have a look (there really were no secrets between them) and their eyes widened. "That's a Time-Turner," Fred said in an undertone, and she pulled back to get another look at her sketch.
"What's that?" she asked cluelessly, her years raised as a Muggle showing.
"Allows the wearer to turn back time a few hours," George revealed. "They're really rare. Dad says the Ministry rounded them all up, so it's nigh impossible to get your hands on one anymore."
"I'd better go show this to Dumbledore," she murmured, getting the strongest sense that that was what she should do.
"Can't you do it tomorrow?" Fred asked, but she was already climbing to her feet.
"I wanna do it now," she replied. "I'll see you in the morning!"
They tossed her vague farewells, but she was already climbing from the portrait hole. To make sure Dumbledore's office was always accessible to her, she was alerted whenever the password changed. It made her feel kind of like a VIP, and she very dearly wanted to inform Percy of this fact, just to watch him seethe with jealousy.
"Jelly Slugs," she said to the looming gargoyle, which leapt gracefully out of the way to reveal the staircase to Dumbledore's office.
She knocked on the large doors to his office, and Dumbledore's voice called for her to enter. The Headmaster was draped in casual red robes, sitting behind his ornate, claw-footed desk, a stack of paperwork lay at his side nearly a foot tall.
"Miss Andrews," he greeted her cordially, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Tea?" he asked once she was settled into the comfortable chair in front of his desk.
"Thank you, sir," she said politely, and he flicked his long, elegant wand, teapot and teacups appearing on his desk.
"Not worried it will keep you awake?" he asked gently, picking up the pot and pouring the tea by hand.
"Sleep isn't something I do much of anyways, regardless of what I drink beforehand," she admitted, never one to talk too much about her insomnia. She usually didn't mind it, she got her best work done in the early hours of the morning, just before the sun broke over the horizon, when everything was misty and silent. Sometimes she thought that was the closest she could ever get to true peace.
"I must admit, I'm glad for the interruption," Dumbledore told her kindly, thankfully not mentioning the comment on her sleeping pattern. "My hand was beginning to cramp from signing my name so many times."
Winona forced something of a polite smile, taking the offered teacup from him and swallowing a mouthful. It was made to perfection, as it always was.
"What can I do for you?" he finally asked, once he'd sipped his own tea and set the teacup back down into the saucer with a gentle clink.
"I have a new drawing, sir," she said, pulling her sketchbook from where she'd stuffed it into her bag and flipping to the correct page.
Dumbledore stared at the sketch for a long minute, then nodded to himself and placed it gently onto the desktop.
"I feel that this one is incredibly important, Professor," she told him, trying to convey was else she was sensing. "I feel like it's important that I tell you – it's imperative that Hermione receives a Time-Turner next semester."
Dumbledore looked pleasantly curious. "And why do you feel the need to tell me this?"
Pausing, Winona considered how to respond. "I've been getting…sensations and…impressions, from my visions," she told him, something she'd, thus far, only told the twins. She hadn't even told Trelawney, and she had meetings with her once a month for this exact thing. Except, all they really did in those lessons was stare into crystal balls and drink bad tea. "I feel like with every passing vision, a new sense comes along with it. Sometimes it's telling me when it will happen, or where. Sometimes it's saying I need to warn a specific person about it."
"Have you discussed this with Professor Trelawney?" the Headmaster asked her calmly.
She hesitated, knowing he wouldn't like her answer. "No."
"I believe, in the next session you attend, it's important you discuss this with her," he told her, utterly relaxed.
She nodded once, agreeing without actually saying the words. "So, are you going to get Hermione a Time-Turner?"
Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "Do you know why she needs it?"
"To save lives," she said without thought, and Dumbledore hummed as if a theory of his had just been proven. "I don't know why I said that," she murmured, picking up her teacup and nervously draining what remained inside.
Dumbledore watched her, something behind his eyes. Was it impishness? Excitement? She couldn't put her finger on the emotion. It seemed almost smug, however, and she got the terrible feeling he was enjoying having a Seer in his back pocket. Her insides turned to concrete.
"It shouldn't be difficult to procure a Time-Turner for Miss Granger for the coming school year," he finally said, the words slow, like they had all the time in the world. Although, she supposed, with such things as Time-Turners floating around, it wasn't even an exaggeration. "The Ministry will allow me use of one, strictly for a student's benefit – especially if that student is Miss Granger."
Winona sagged with relief at hearing this. Some part of her had to marvel at the fact that Dumbledore believed her – that he took on her blind, vague advice, and did something about it. It was an awful lot of power to be giving a fourteen year old, she thought suddenly, but banished the thought just as quickly.
"It is, however, critical, that you tell no one of this. Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Miss Andrews," he warned her, the words feeling ancient and heavy.
Feeling a flare of guilt, for she'd already heedlessly shown George and Fred, she merely set down her cup.
"I think I'll be going, Professor," she said gently. The Headmaster nodded his head, setting down his cup as well before picking up his wand, making an exact replica of her sketch – as he always did – then handing the book back to her with steady hands.
"I can walk you back to Gryffindor Tower, if you'd like," he offered, beginning to rise from his chair, so big and ornate, it was really more of a throne.
"No, no," she assured him, tucking her sketchbook back into her bag and heading fro the door. "It's fine."
Dumbledore looked wary, but inclined his head nonetheless.
"Sleep well, Professor," she told him kindly.
"You as well, Miss Andrews," he said gently, and she shot him a final smile before stepping out into the corridor, letting the doors shut after her.
She didn't feel scared wandering the castle alone, even though there was still a giant, Muggleborn killing monster on the loose. Perhaps, in the back of her mind, she almost believed she'd be able to sense if she were in any danger. She couldn't prove it – wasn't sure she even wanted to have the chance – but it made it a little easier to climb the changing stairs of the castle, heading for her common room.
She arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait safe and sound, slipping inside as quietly as she could. The common room was empty, the fire still crackling hotly in the corner. Winona made her way towards it, standing in the silence of the common room and soaking up its heat for a long few minutes before finally sighing and heading up to bed.
The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had arrived, but instead of her usual excitement, Winona awoke with a feeling of intense dread. It sat heavy in her gut, like concrete bricks stacked atop her organs.
It was the beginning of May, and both Winona and the twins' birthdays – in March and April respectively – had passed with little fanfare.
It was difficult to celebrate when there was someone – and something – inside the school, attacking Muggleborns, picking them off one by one. However, the twins were never ones to turn down the opportunity for a party, and still managed to take the risk and sneak into Hogsmeade through the secret tunnels to get butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks, and sweets from Honeydukes, throwing modest celebrations in the common room that mostly consisted of sipping warm butterbeer and playing endless tournaments of Exploding Snap.
Despite the castle's gloomy, anxious atmosphere, it was still one of the best birthdays Winona had ever had.
Looking in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, she noted that she was a few shades paler than usual, making her look washed out and sick. She grabbed Alicia's make up bag off the counter, sifting through it until she found some light blush. She spread the soft pink powder onto her cheeks with shaking hands, just to give herself a little colour so she looked less like she were dying.
All her friends were already gone, what with actually being on the Quidditch team, so Winona was left with no one but Lee and Hope to wander down to the pitch with. They were just passing the library, Lee chattering about the new Weird Sisters song, when she felt an unpleasant tingle run down the length of her spine.
"I'll meet you guys there," she said absently. Her friends were confused, but they didn't argue as she turned abruptly and headed into the library. She reached into the waistband of her jeans, gripping her wand and holding it in a tight grip. The hazel wood was warm and comforting under her fingers.
She wasn't sure what she was doing. It was like there was a hook in her gut, attached to a fishing line dragging her deeper into the castle. Like her instincts knew something the rest of her didn't.
The library was deathly silent, almost the entire student body on their way down to the Quidditch match. She absently thought that Fred and George would be worried, she was always there early enough so she could give them their traditional good-luck cheek kisses. She wondered what they would think when she didn't show up, but was distracted when a noise to her right startled her.
Spinning around with a gasp, a hex ready on the tip of her tongue, Winona came face to face with Hermione. The younger witch had wide, terrified eyes and a small mirror clutched in one shaking hand.
And she knew, instinctually and sharply, that her vision from months ago was happening right now.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, breathless. Winona quickly lowered her wand.
"That's a very good question," she said, swallowing and peering at the girl more closely. "Is everything okay?"
"I figured it out!" Hermione exclaimed, keeping her voice low enough not to attract Madam Pince's attention.
"That's great," Winona replied, still frowning. "Figured what out?"
"The monster," she hissed, holding up the mirror and peering into it, shifting it from side to side to get a better view of the stacks behind her. "It's a Basilisk."
"I don't know what that is," she replied in the same hushed whisper, frustrated.
"It's like a giant snake. One look into its eyes will kill you," she told Winona quickly, for once just cutting to the chase and not giving her the whole, textbook definition.
Winona's insides swooped, and not in a good way. "Basilisks don't happen to have glowing yellow eyes, do they?"
Hermione's eyes flashed to her. "I thought you didn't know what they were."
"I didn't," she replied. "But that doesn't mean I haven't seen one before."
Another chill ran down Winona's spine, colder than ever, making horrible goosebumps appear across her skin and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her mouth went dry and suddenly she knew, she just knew, that they were in grave danger.
"Hermione, I need you to run," Winona whispered, feeling a protective instinct wash over her, glancing cautiously over her shoulder. Whatever she did now, it would either save or doom Hermione. She was hoping it would be the former. "Run down to the Quidditch Pitch, get McGonagall," she said, stepping closer and pressing a hand against Hermione's back, urging her forwards.
"What? Winnie-" she tried to argue. There was a quiet cough from a few rows over, and Winona knew they weren't alone. Somebody else was in danger too. Somebody utterly oblivious to it.
"Hermione, do as I say," she hissed, taking the mirror from Hermione's hand before pushing her in the direction of the doors. "Go, and don't look back."
The second year desperately wanted to argue, but in the end she would always be a rule-follower, and she turned, racing from the library as fast as her little legs could carry her. Winona shut her eyes, took a deep breath in, then opened them and rounded the shelves, searching them for the other student.
"Penelope, right?" Winona asked, spying the Ravenclaw prefect in the Herbology section, and the girl looked up with a gasp. "Come with me," she said slowly, and although Penelope was shocked by the order, she obediently shut her book and climbed to her feet.
"You're Winona Andrews – Percy's brother's friend," she said, which was weird, because who recognised Winona through Percy?
"There's a Basilisk on the loose, and it's about to attack us," Winona decided not to sugarcoat it. "If you hear anything, shut your eyes immediately."
Penelope looked unsettled. "Is this one of your little jokes?" she asked, frowning deeply. "It isn't very funny," she said, but Winona was already shaking her head.
"We need to go now," she said just as a shelf across the room collapsed with a loud bang. "Now!" Winona cried. With a frightened gasp, Penelope dropped what was in her hands and darted for the door.
Winona ran, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the mirror, rather than in front of her. That was when she heard the hiss, saw the big, glowing, yellow eyes from her vision all those months ago, and everything went completely, horrifyingly dark.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed. This was my first real deviation from canon, and it's the first of many changes I'll be making to canon in this story.
Thank you guys so much for the reviews and messages last chapter. You turned a crappy week into a good one. As always, any feedback is so appreciated. Hearing from you guys fuels my writing fire. I've got some big things coming up, in this story and others, and I can't wait to share it all with you. See you soon!