That Friday evening was the Quidditch team's final practise before the game against Ravenclaw. Wood made them all have an early dinner, then he was rushing them off to the Pitch, desperate for as much time as they could get.
Ron tagged along, as did Winona, each convinced by their best friends that it would cheer them up.
Ron was still tormented over the apparent death of Scabbers, while Winona was dealing with silence from the gorgeous Jeremiah Nott, even after they'd thoroughly snogged in an empty classroom not once, but twice. Still, the twins didn't know this, all they knew was that Winona had been in a right foul mood as of late.
Fred had made a comment about being on her period. She had punched him so hard in the shoulder that his arm was still half-numb.
"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," Fred was saying now as they all made their way across the grounds to the Pitch. Ron kept dragging his feet, brooding about his missing pet. "And he's been off-colour for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn't feel a thing."
"Fred!" cried Ginny indignantly, who had been invited by Winona, not wanting the girl to be alone up in the common room. She never really had gelled with the other Gryffindor girls in her year.
"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George. Winona found it sweet how hard the twins were trying to cheer Ron up, but their younger brother was stubbornly set on moping.
"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?" he asked, and Harry looked uncomfortable.
"Yeah, that's true," he finally said, and Ron nodded fervently.
"His finest hour," said Fred, grinning widely as he spoke, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory." Harry cracked a smile, as did everyone else around the group, except Ron, who was determined to keep pouting at the earth. "Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat. What's the point of moaning?" Fred asked impatiently. Ron only glared at his brother's insensitivity.
"Come on, Ron," Harry said, much more gentle. "You can have a ride of my Firebolt when we're done with practise!"
This was the only thing that seemed to work, and the boy perked up at the thought. "Great!" he said with renewed enthusiasm. "Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?"
" 'Course," Harry agreed readily, and Ron seemed lighter at the prospect.
The sky was overcast, the clouds thin, allowing enough light through to reflect off the dewey grass, remnants of the rain that had stopped only hours before.
"Spend your time in the stands inventing a cheer for us Beaters," George told Winona playfully as they came to a stop at the edge of the Pitch, just where the stairs leading up to the stands began.
"Brainstorm for things that rhyme with 'Fred'," Fred added.
"You mean like 'dead'?" she asked slyly.
"Come up with something a little more cheerful than that, would you?" George murmured, clapping her firmly on the shoulder before Wood called them to begin practise. Winona turned to speak to Ginny only for a glimmer of light to catch her eye, making her pause and spin around, searching for the source.
Jeremiah stood at the base to the stands, twirling his wand in his fingers, dressed in a lovely green sweater that clung to him in all the right ways.
"Ginny, why don't you go get good seats?" Winona instructed the younger girl. Although Ginny looked curious, Ron said something about Harry's Firebolt that had her distracted, and Winona took the opportunity to dart to the right, ducking under the cover to the large stands and out of sight from Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Gryffindor team.
Nott was standing against a large post in the most casual, alluring position she'd ever seen. His arms were crossed, and though he was wiry and thin, there was something attractive about it. Her heart fluttered in her chest.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered, making sure nobody could overhear.
"Slytherin team just finished practise," he replied without a care, his dark eyes honed in on her face. "Thought I'd stay and say hi."
"...Hi," she repeated dumbly, trying to understand.
"I wanted to see you," he rolled his eyes in exasperation, as though she were slow.
"Oh," Winona murmured, blinking her eyes quickly as she stared at him, taking in his devil-may-care smirk. Her breath left her in a huff, and he took it as a sign to approach, striding purposefully across the grass to reach her, winding one of those strong arms around her middle and dragging her to him. "Jeremiah," she said breathlessly, trying to find a way to tell him to stop, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
"I love it when you say my name," he said, voice low and throaty as he ducked in. She thought he was going in for a kiss, but instead he went lower, pressing his warm lips against the cool hollow of her throat.
She gasped, one hand moving up to grasp at his hair, tugging instinctively as he sucked on her pulse point. The guy knew exactly what he was doing, even if she didn't. He nibbled at her neck, then took a portion of her skin and began to suck. Gasping again at the pain and pleasure it brought, Winona tugged at his hair harder, making him grunt into her skin.
When he finally, finally pulled away, she was breathing just as hard as if he'd really kissed her. Then he did exactly that, swooping in and stealing another bruising kiss from her lips.
She leant into it, moaning quietly in pleasure when he nipped at her top lip. His hands slid down the small of her back and over her backside, coming to rest at her thighs. She sighed into his mouth, caught up in the reckless spontaneity of it it all.
After a long, long few minutes of blissful contact, he pulled back and hummed, staring down at her wickedly, like he wanted to shove her up against the beams and ravage her again. She was almost inclined to let him.
"Hm, can't have anyone seeing that," he murmured almost to himself, eyes on her neck, and she reached up with wide eyes to the spot he'd been sucking earlier.
"You left a mark?" she hissed, pressing a hand to it like that would make it go away. "Why would you do that?"
Jeremiah smirked, eyes alight with a dark humour she found intoxicating. It was a sharp contrast to the twins, whose eyes glittered with humour, but a light kind. It was like the difference between the night sky and the day. She wondered which she preferred, then decided it didn't matter. How could she compare them?
In a sure, simple move, Jeremiah unwound the Slytherin scarf from around his neck and held it out to her. "Oh, thanks," she said sarcastically, "I'll just walk out into a Gryffindor team practise wearing a Slytherin's scarf, shall I?"
He looked irritated by her argument, but even he had to admit it was common sense. With a huff he produced his wand, tapping the scarf and muttering, "Colovaria."
The fabric turned from emerald green to violent crimson with a shimmer, and suddenly she was looking at a Gryffindor scarf, complete with embroidered the lion at the end.
"You're very good," she murmured unthinkingly, taking it from him and gently winding it around her neck.
"I am," he agreed. He smirked, glanced over his shoulder, then said with the utmost casualness, "see you."
He was gone before she could process it, walking away casually, like nothing could touch him. Bemused, Winona ran a hand through her messy hair.
It was careless and reckless and irresponsible and dishonest, but she just couldn't stop. She had an addiction to Jeremiah Nott, that much she couldn't deny. She stared after him, then realised she'd been gone far too long, running her hands over her dishevelled appearance, trying to make it seem like she hadn't just been snogging with a Slytherin down below the Quidditch stands.
"Where were you?" Ron asked nosily when she sat down in the space beside him.
"Lady problems," she replied without flinching. He flushed a mortified scarlet, ducking his head, suddenly very interested in his feet. Ginny was shooting her a doubtful look from her other side, but thankfully was soon absorbed by the practise in front of her and ended up without a chance to question her.
It grew dark quickly, but only once it was too dark to see in front of them did Wood call off practise. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep, so Harry used their extra time to let Ron have a go with the Firebolt.
Winona wandered down until she was outside the locker rooms, waiting against the wall for her friends to reappear.
"Brilliant practise!" she told them brightly when they stepped into the evening, their Quidditch robes gone, replaced by their regular clothes. "Loved that feint you pulled, Ange!"
"Where'd you get the scarf?" Fred asked before the other girl could answer, his voice loud and befuddled. George and Angelina turned to look at him in surprise, then at Winona, who was trying her hardest not to blush. "You weren't wearing it before," he added, still frowning at her suspiciously.
"Yeah, I was," she lied, feeling like an absolute bastard for doing so.
Fred didn't look convinced, but suddenly Lee tripped over a root twisting out of the ground, and all the attention went to him, sprawled out on the ground like an embarrassed starfish. The group let out loud laughter, and Winona breathed a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the way Fred's eyes seemed to stay on her for the entire walk back up to the castle.
Thankfully, as the night wore on, Fred was distracted by the others and soon the whole thing was forgotten, the twins cracking loud jokes and making plans to set off dungbombs in the Slytherin's locker room come morning.
Unfortunately, she wasn't as in the clear as she'd believed. When Wood finally blew through the room, ordering the team up to bed, the girls trudged up to the dormitories, getting changed into their warmest pyjamas and settling in for the night.
Winona was just curling up under her covers, pulling out her pencils to work on a piece, when Alicia took a seat on the end of her bed, bouncing playfully on the mattress. "What's going on with you?" she asked cheerfully. Winona glanced up sharply, like the words had been shouted rather than spoken.
"What do you mean?" she asked, sidestepping the question and turning her attention back to her drawing of a Snitch, adding the gold colouring around the edges. Her hands moved fluently, but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
"Come off it," Alicia snorted. "Ange told me you're seeing someone!"
"Ange doesn't know what she's talking about," Winona responded tightly, glad the girl in question was in the bathroom, indulging in a hot shower before bed.
"All right then, so if it's not a guy, what is it?" Alicia pressed gently, ducking her head in an attempt to catch Winona's eye.
"OWLs," she lied, keeping her eyes on her sketch. "They've got me kind of frazzled."
It was a weak attempt at best, and Alicia was silent. Winona knew she was far from convinced. "Okay, you can just tell me when you're ready," she finally said patiently, reaching out to press and hand to Winona's knee over the thick quilt she was buried beneath. "We're all here for you, you know that, right?"
Winona nodded, but didn't remove her eyes from her work, too afraid of what she'd see if she looked up, too afraid the compassion she knew she would find would have her spilling her guts like she'd downed a vial of Veritaserum.
Alicia sighed and stood to her feet, wandering back over to her bed. Winona was just relieved the conversation was over.
She didn't sleep much that night, but she rarely did anyway, and she'd long ago learned how to function on little to no rest. She was dozing lightly by the time the sun climbed over the mountains, but she was woken up what felt like minutes later by her dorm mates, who were getting ready for the match.
Winona trudged down to breakfast with a yawn, sitting at the Gryffindor table and helping herself to some eggs and toast, casting a look to her right where Harry and the rest of the team sat crowded around his Firebolt like they couldn't bear to be apart from it.
She smothered a smirk, looking up as Ginny took the seat opposite her, murmuring a 'good morning' before shoving porridge into her mouth, effectively ending further conversation.
"You'd think it were made of gold," Hope mumbled from her left, casting the absorbed group an irritated glance, leaned gently against her girlfriend, Christine, who was peeling an orange with deft fingers, smiling gently at Winona in greeting.
Winona agreed, though she had to admit, the Firebolt was pretty cool. She wondered whether Harry would let her have a go on it.
The Quidditch Pitch was bustling when she, Lee, Hermione and Ginny all arrived. Ron was sticking with Seamus and Dean from his year, still giving Hermione the cold shoulder.
"I've gotta go up to the teacher's box," Lee told them, looking excited.
"Why?" Hermione asked curiously, eyes narrowed, as though wondering why he got to go sit up with the teachers.
"I'm commentating," Lee replied with raised eyebrows. "As usual."
"Right," Hermione seemed to flush with embarrassment for forgetting. The dreadlocked boy grinned and slapped his palm against Winona's in their usual farewell before heading to the opposite end of the field.
The game began and it was clear all anyone was interested in was Harry and his new broom. He swooped and dived with breathtaking speed, and Winona gasped when he had to roll out of the path of a Bludger aimed his way by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters.
Screaming out a word that made Hermione slap her, Winona glared at the Beater, cheering loudly when George aimed a Bludger right back, catching him on the shoulder. Unfortunately, he remained on his broom.
Cho seemed determined to let Harry do all the work in searching for the Snitch, just moving as he did. Hermione muttered a sour comment about how pathetic of a strategy it was. Winona grinned at her proudly for the brief insult.
It wasn't until Harry really took off, moving too fast to see, that they knew the match was about to end. Winona was just gearing up to cheer when she glanced at the field, three people covered in black cloaks standing on the grass.
Immediately she knew they weren't Dementors. If not by the white shins she could see poking out from the bottom of the robes, then by the distinct lack of depression winding its way through the excited spectators.
Still, Harry didn't know this, and suddenly she saw something massive and silver burst from his wand, shooting down to where the students were attempting to sabotage the match. Winona had heard of the Patronus Charm before, but she'd never seen it in real life. It was beautiful.
The crowd broke out into tumultuous applause, and she glanced back up to see Harry clutching the Snitch in his hand. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the match ended. Ginny turned to Winona with an elated shout, and Winona cheered back loudly, pulling the youngest Weasley into a large hug before pulling back and pushing her way through the crowd down to the Pitch when she saw the team floating towards the ground.
She saw Harry first, a dazed and elated look on his face as Ron triumphantly held his hand high in the air. She reached out and ruffled his already unruly hair. "Congrats, Boy-Wonder!" she yelled over the cheering crowd. He grinned at her, still astounded by his win.
There was a loud whoop from behind her and she turned in time for George to catch her around the waist and yank her up into a tight embrace, laughing loudly as he spun her around. She giggled and extracted herself when she began to feel dizzy.
"You did it!" she yelled up to George excitedly, brushing the hair from her face.
"Harry did it!" he replied, casting the Boy-Who-Lived a proud grin.
"We won!" Alicia and Katie were suddenly there, yanking her away from George to twirl her around like they were at a dance. Winona laughed loudly, slapping them on the back and congratulating them happily. "Did you see that first point I scored?" Katie was asking loudly, exhilaration on her pretty face.
"It was amazing, Katie!" Winona told her, grasping her friend's hands as she practically vibrated on the spot with elation. "And George hitting that Bludger at Christian? How great was that?!" she added, turning to look for George who she could now see was laughing with Lee over his commentating. "Where's Fred?" she asked, whirling around to look for the other twin.
"He's – oh!" Alicia broke off with a startled squeak, and Winona followed her line of sight, her jaw dropping as she laid eyes on Fred and Angelina, standing off to the side, engaged in a deep snog, arms wrapped tightly around one another.
Katie and Alicia broke out into cheers again, joining Ginny as they all fell into a victory dance at both their win and their best friends finally getting together.
Winona grinned again, but this time the expression was hollow, a ghost of a smile, empty of life. She was smiling because that's what she should have been doing, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. Watching them, she just felt uncomfortable. She turned away from the embracing pair, deciding not to analyse why she wasn't as ecstatic as the others, instead falling back into the celebration of the match.
"Party! Gryffindor common room, now!" George said loudly to all the Gryffindors in earshot, clapping Harry heartily on the back.
With another tremendous cheer, the group turned and headed for the castle while the team ducked into the locker rooms to get changed. George quickly told Winona that he and Fred were off to Hogsmeade for party supplies, but Winona declined to go with them, saying she'd rather stay with the others.
As she was just about to turn onto the path leading back to the school, Winona turned to catch Fred and Angelina holding hands and grinning at one another dopily as they headed for the locker rooms.
Caught up in the tidal wave of Gryffindors, Winona stayed close to Hermione and Ginny, who were chatting contently about Hermione's Muggle Studies class. Winona was lagging behind, trying to figure out where the ball of uncomfortable wire in her gut had come from and where, exactly, it was going to go, when a hand slipped into hers, tugging firmly.
With a tiny yelp, Winona was yanked into an alcove, out of sight from the others who hadn't seemed to notice her sudden disappearance. Hands curled into fists, prepared to fight her way free, Winona whirled around to glare at her captor, only to find Jeremiah staring at her with that awful, sexy smirk.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, glancing back out, expecting somebody to have noticed, but nobody gave the alcove so much as a second glance. He only smirked back, and suddenly she knew exactly what he wanted. "This is a bad idea," she whispered, and his smirk broke out into a full-blown leer before he was diving in for a kiss so intense that it made her head spin.
She wanted to think, she wanted to ask so many questions. Why this was happening between them? What were they to one another? What did he want from her? But instead, all she could think was more, and she clutched at him desperately, diving into him like he were a lake, one she felt she was quite possibly going to drown in.
It was intoxicating in the worst kind of way, and she knew it was so incredibly wrong. There were so many reasons to stay away, but he made her blood boil, and she could do nothing but hold onto him as he slammed her against the alcove wall and kissed a trail down to her chest, nibbling at her skin.
The only sound filling the alcove were her panting breaths and his guttural growls as he ground his hips into hers. Head tossed back, Winona pressed her lips together at the friction, unlike any she'd felt before. She wanted to pull away then, but suddenly the image of Fred and Angelina twisted together on the Quidditch Pitch floated through her mind. With renewed intensity, Winona yanked at Jeremiah's hair, forcing his lips back onto hers and giving a quiet moan at the friction.
It would have only been minutes – though it felt like hours – when finally he pulled away, seemingly hardly as effected as she felt, that never-waning smirk sitting perfectly on his lips.
"What are we doing?" she asked once she could finally catch her breath but before she could talk herself out of it.
"I thought it was fairly obvious."
"I mean…what are we?" she tried again, beginning to lose confidence.
Jeremiah groaned, pulling away from her and stepping back against the other wall of the alcove, a scowl on those sinful lips. "You're not one of those girls, are you?" he asked and, confused, Winona could do no more than stare at him. "What are we? What do you want this to be? What do I call you?" he drawled with something of a whine and a faint, but definitely there, falsetto. "I thought you were different."
"I am!" she insisted, struck with a terror that he wouldn't want her any more; that the exchange of fiery touches would come to an end.
"So, you don't want anything more than to have some fun, right?" he asked, staring back expectantly.
Did she? Could she really handle nothing coming to this, just being someone he could use for pleasure?
Did she want a relationship? Kind of, yeah, but with a Slytherin? What would that look like? Would it even be possible?
She knew they were safer in secret, and as pathetic as it was, she didn't want their time to come to an end. Jeremiah fascinated her, and he made her heart race in a way that Adam never had. Maybe, in time, they could grow to have something real, something epic. Maybe she just needed to put in the hard yards first, until that time came.
"All I want is fun," she told him, voice steady and convincing. With something of a victorious grin, he swooped back in for another snog, and she lost herself in groping touches and wet, consuming kisses.
The party was one of their best, the height of Winona's night being when the twins stood onto the table and began juggling butterbeer bottles like they were tennis balls. She was sat in the corner with Lee, Katie and Alicia, all of them still laughing over Lee's ridiculous commentary.
She got caught up in the celebrations, forgetting her new deal with Jeremiah and focusing on her friends' laughter and the twins' antics. But it was easy, and in her experience, nothing easy ever lasts.
"So, Ange..." Katie began when the dark beauty took a seat in the empty chair that Lee had just vacated, wandering off in search of more butterbeer.
"What?" Angelina asked coyly, looking away from where the twins had thrown some chocolate frogs into their juggling act.
"Oh, come off it," Alicia sniggered. "We all saw it."
Angelina averted her eyes, blushing. Alicia and Katie squealed, and it was all Winona could do to smile, keeping her eyes on her bashful friend, who was now tugging at a lock of her springy hair sheepishly.
"So, what does this mean?" Katie asked in a low voice, glancing over at the twins as though there was a chance they might overhear from the complete opposite end of the common room. "Are you two like, together now?"
"I dunno," Ange replied evenly, casting the twins a longing glance. Winona vaguely wondered whether Angelina could tell the difference like she could, but cast the thought from her mind. Of course she could, otherwise how would she know which one she liked? And she was obviously besotted with Fred.
The look she was sending him made Winona think of Jeremiah, and how she wished they were in the same House. All of her problems would be solved if he wasn't a Slytherin. Though, she supposed, maybe that was just part of what made him so appealing. The forbidden romance of it all.
That thought made her feel sick, and she was sure it showed on her face. She was quick to try and arrange her features into something more cheerful, but it was a lousy attempt at best.
"All I know is that I really, really like him," Angelina told the girls with a shy giggle. "I've never felt this way before."
"You two are so cute," Alicia tittered, reaching out to squeeze her friend's hands gently. "Look, he can't even keep his eyes off you!" she added, and everyone around Winona shifted into a forced-casual sort of position.
Floundering, Winona blinked, realising her expression was still dark and pensive. She glanced up despite Angelina's hissed order not to look, meeting Fred's eyes. He had a look of concern on his face, and she just knew, as she always just knew, that Fred hadn't been looking at Angelina.
He'd been looking at her.
She forced her mouth up into a smile, silently conveying she was fine, before turning to the others, who still weren't looking obviously but instead glancing over at him inconspicuously, giggling about how smitten he was with Angelina.
Guilt coursed through Winona like a river. This was meant for Angelina, not her. She hurriedly turned her attention away from Fred, leaning over the girls and asking Katie loudly if she fancied a rematch at Gobstones.
The party seemed to go on forever, and but eventually McGonagall stormed in, snapping at them all to go to bed. The twins walked her to the portrait hole, loudly exclaiming how beautiful she looked in her dressing gown and hairnet. She shot them a less-than-amused look, lips tightly pursed, and told them sternly to get some sleep and to stop causing trouble.
She disappeared out into the hall but the party still began to break up, everyone moving up towards the stairs. Winona wasn't tired and considered staying down to help clean up, but she had a feeling the House Elves wouldn't take too kindly to that. She gathered her bag, which she'd tossed into the corner when she'd arrived, and headed for the girls' staircase, only to pause awkwardly when she found Fred and Angelina already standing at the bottom step, hands held together between them as they whispered to one another.
Winona paused, nearly choosing to wait, but ended up deciding the last thing she wanted was to stick around to watch them snog. She cleared her throat loudly – and maybe a little obnoxiously – and the pair jumped, not having realised she'd only been standing two feet away from them.
"Winnie," Fred said, blinking at her as he took back his hands. Angelina frowned. "What's up?" he asked expectantly, staring at her as though waiting for her to ask for something.
"Um, you're in my way," she answered, only slightly awkward. Fred spun around, glancing between her and the staircase before realising his mistake.
"Right, yes, of course," he bumbled, hurriedly stepping out of the way, thus bringing him even closer to Angelina, who looked pleased by the fact.
"Night, Fred," she told him with an exasperated roll of her eyes, sidestepping them deftly and all but fleeing up the stairs. She vaguely heard him call a goodnight after her, but she didn't stop to listen, heading straight for her dorm where Alicia and Hope were both already passed out – still fully dressed – on their beds.
She tried her best to get some sleep, but she just couldn't seem to shut off her mind.
Angelina had come in, gotten changed and fallen into bed easily, but Winona remained alert, her skin tingling. She should have been taking the time to sort out the mess of feelings in her brain, but instead, all she could think was, something is about to happen.
What good did that do? Something could have been anything. How was she supposed to help anyone if she couldn't even figure out exactly what was going on?
Something deep in her subconscious told her to go back down to the common room, and so she sat up, wide awake. Had she left something down there? Was there someone who needed help? Was something going to happen there?
Standing as silently as she could, Winona tucked her feet into the fluffy bunny slippers the twins had given her for one of her birthdays. She was quiet, no sounds but Alicia snoring from the far bed, as she moved over to the door, opening it and wincing at the creak that echoed throughout the room.
Nobody stirred, so she kept going, gently padding her way down the stairs to the common room where the fire was still burning, though much less so than it had been earlier.
She gave the space a cursory glance, walking into the middle of the room and running her fingertips over the backs of the couches, feeling the worn material under her skin as she tried to focus on the buzzing sensation.
What was her bloody inner eye trying to tell her?
Before she could dig out any answer that made sense, there was a horrified scream from above her and then the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. With a gasp, Winona whipped around, not having expected any of the other students to be up so late. However the person who appeared at the bottom of the staircase was anything but a student.
Sirius Black stood before her, draped in grimy old prison rags, his face caked with dirt, his eyes alight with furious passion. He stared at her, and she stared back, wishing she'd thought to bring her wand.
Only, the longer he stared at her, the more the look in his eyes melted from one of anger or fear. Instead it was replaced by shock, then the glittering of unshed tears. Stunned by the reaction, Winona could only gape at him, struggling to come to terms with the fact that Sirius Black was standing in Gryffindor Tower, staring at her like she was a ghost – staring at her the exact same way Lupin had, that very first lesson of the term.
"Winona?" Black finally asked, a mere croak, like he hadn't used his voice in years.
Eyes shooting wide open, Winona found herself feeling faint. "You know me?" she asked breathlessly. Questions began to bubble and boil on her tongue, but before she could voice them there was a series of loud shouts from above them. Black's eyes darted to the portrait hole behind her.
She should have tried to stop him, should have screamed for help – something, anything to keep him from escaping. Instead, what she did probably would have knocked a less desperate man off his feet; she stepped aside, giving the convicted murderer a perfect run at the portrait hole.
Looking back, she wasn't sure why she did it, but she knew, just as she always knew, she was doing the right thing by the future. Black shot her a look that could only possibly be described as grateful relief and teary affection before ripping his gaze away like it hurt and tearing off through the portrait hole, disappearing from sight.
Adrenaline had flooded her system the moment she'd seen him, but now that he was gone, it left her body like water evaporating in the sunlight. She gasped, clutching onto the back of the couch to hold herself up, her knees threatening to give out. She sucked in a few deep breaths of air, trying to keep from hyperventilating. Trying to keep the strange panic from drowning her.
"Who shouted?" somebody was yelling from the boys' dorms. "What're you doing?"
Ron tripped into the common room, a look of utter terror on his face, confusion and bewilderment on Harry's as he stumbled out after him.
"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?" Harry asked warily.
"I'm telling you, I saw him!" Ron cried hysterically.
"What's all the noise?" Alicia appeared from the girls' dorms, halfway through a yawn.
"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!" Hope appeared beside her, a frown on her face. Nobody gave Winona a look, and she supposed in the mess of it all, they hadn't noticed her stood there.
"Excellent, are we carrying on?" Fred had tumbled into sight, eagerness spread brightly over his face.
"Everyone back upstairs!" Percy stormed into the room, pinning his badge onto his pyjamas in a move that probably would have made Winona laugh under different circumstances.
She let out a wheeze, attempting it anyway, and finally someone noticed her. "Win?" Fred asked, stepping away from his brother and heading over to his best friend, who was still relying on the couch to keep her upright.
"Perce — Sirius Black!" Ron squeaked from behind them, and Winona watched Fred's eyes go wide. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"
Fred was staring at her in shock, taking in her shaking limbs and pale face.
"Nonsense!" said Percy primly, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron — had a nightmare —"
"I'm telling you!" Ron growled, whirling around to fix Winona with a look. "You were here, you saw him!" he yelled at her, and her eyes went even wider at the attention of the rest of the common room.
"Winona didn't see anything, Ron-" Percy tried to say.
"I did," Winona spoke. Her voice was voice soft but they still heard her. The entire room went still, and every eye was focused on her. "It was Sirius Black."
There was only silence, nobody seemed to know what to say. Suddenly George was there, threading a comforting arm around her and drawing her into his side. He was warm, and frowning at how hard she was trembling, holding her to him tightly. Fred only continued to stare, like he was rooted to his spot, like he didn't know how to react.
"Now, really, enough's enough!" McGonagall had appeared, the portrait slamming behind her as she tore into the room. "I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!" she said to the Head Boy in disappointment, and Percy looked like she'd just accused him of murdering her cat.
"I certainly didn't authorise this, Professor!" he said once he'd gotten over the shock, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare —"
"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron suddenly bellowed, cheeks red and he whirled around on the Deputy Headmistress. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"
Professor McGonagall stared at him, saying nothing.
"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley," she finally said tightly.
"Winona saw him too!" he continued loudly, throwing out an arm at the older student, who was still being held upright by a worried George. "Didn't you, Winona?!"
"It's true, Professor," Winona confirmed rather weakly, feeling vaguely like she was going to throw up, but powering on nonetheless. "He was here. I saw him. Sirius Black – he's in the castle."
The blood was beginning to drain from McGonagall's face, leaving her pasty and white as a ghost.
"But how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?" she asked, voice almost as weak as Winona's.
"Ask him!" cried Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw him!"
Beady eyes flickering between the third and the fifth year, the look within them suspicious, McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath.
"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"
"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan cheerfully.
There was a stunned silence, and Winona felt like the air had been suctioned from her lungs.
"You — you did?" asked Professor McGonagall faintly. "But — but the password!"
"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"
There was a lengthy pause in which Winona just clung tighter to George, trying to draw strength from the warmth of his skin. Then McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk, Winona feeling just as pale.
"Which person," she began, her voice shaking with rage, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"
Everyone was silent until there was a pitchy squeak and poor Neville raised a trembling hand.
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "I see, Mr Longbottom," she said, and Winona had never heard her speak so coolly. "All of you, stay here, in the common room while I conduct a sweep of the dorms."
"He went out the portrait hole, Professor," Winona said before she could talk herself out of it, and McGonagall turned towards her, expression severe.
"Be that as it may, Miss Andrews, I will be conducting a search anyway," she said, turning and heading up the boys' stairs first. She was gone, but still nobody spoke, everybody too terrified and shocked to think of anything to say.
"Okay, everybody take a seat!" Percy called unnecessarily loudly, as the silent room would have heard even a whisper. Everybody turned to stare at him. "Looks like we're in for a long night!"
Slowly but surely, murmurs began to rise up in the crowd, everybody looking for somewhere comfortable to settle into. George began to drag Winona backwards, heading for a comfy little couch in the corner, just big enough for three people. He sat down, taking her with him, and she weakly collapsed onto the cushion, exhaling as the pressure left her shaking legs.
She watched as Fred mumbled something to Lee, who nodded then hurried over to the girls, sweeping them all up in some conversation, keeping their attention from a still-rattled Winona. She leant further into George, relieved she wouldn't be bombarded by their questions.
She watched as he moved over to Ron, talking with him for a moment, then clapping him on the shoulder and heading towards them with a nod at George, confirming their brother was okay. "You okay, Win?" George was asking her softly.
She said nothing, watching as Fred came towards them. Only instead of taking a seat on the cushion beside her, he knelt down in front of her, gently placing his hands over her knees.
"Winnie?" Fred asked gently, and she looked away from his anxious expression to nod her head.
"Yeah," she said, glancing between the nearly identical pair. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"He didn't hurt you?"
"No," she answered hollowly. An image was coming to mind, she could see it in her head, but it was fuzzy, and she almost wished it would trigger a vision so it would all make sense. But no vision came. "I don't think he wants to hurt any of us," she told them twins honestly, and they exchanged a glance that she barely registered.
"What makes you say that?" George asked, his hand still rubbing up and down her arm in a soothing manner.
Reaching up, she wordlessly tapped at her forehead, not knowing how else to explain it. The twins exchanged another glance, but Winona was too used to it to be bothered.
"So, what exactly happened?" George asked slowly. "Why were you down here in the first place?" Again, the only thing she could possibly do was reach up to tap tiredly at her temple. "You had a vision?"
"A feeling," she corrected him, staring past them without really seeing anything, and they knew she was somewhere else in her mind. "I thought at first that I'd forgotten something down here, and it wouldn't stop bugging me, so I came, stood here for about a minute – then I heard Ron scream, and suddenly Black was standing at the bottom of the stairs."
"What did he do?" Fred asked, hands tightening around her knees, gripping her desperately, as though if he didn't, she might blow away like smoke.
"Absolutely nothing," she said, turning her attention away from the image she couldn't quite see, finally focusing on Fred, who looked relieved when a spark of awareness reappeared in her eyes, the colour like the cracked clouds of a storm, light breaking through the fractures and making the rain glow with life. "He just stared at me, like he was afraid I'd curse him or something." She sighed. "I couldn't have – I didn't even have my wand," she told them quietly.
Fred looked horrified at the thought of her facing Black without her wand, and she hurried to reassure him.
"Like I said, he didn't do anything," she repeated gently, but it wasn't enough for him to relax. "Except..." she trailed off, the weight of her coming words sitting on her chest, making her heart feel like it were getting squashed.
"Except what?" Fred pressed, still gripping her knees tightly, leaning closer in, the position strangely intimate, although that was the furthest thing from her mind. "What happened, Win?" he asked, gentle but instant. He had to know, had to be sure she was okay.
She met his eyes, her own shining with unshed tears – just like Black's had been. "He knew my name," she whispered, the words like a tremendous secret for his ears only. George kept rubbing her arm, but she'd almost forgotten he was even there.
Fred's eyes went wide, and he exchanged a long stare with his brother. "Sirius Black knew your name?" he finally asked, just to be certain, his voice weak with concern.
"How is that possible?" she breathed, the words stabbing at her insides. Why did she feel like she were missing something? A piece of herself that held all the answers she needed, but hovered just out of reach?
"Winnie?" Harry had appeared before Fred could say anything else. They all looked up at him, Winona was quick to blink away the shine to her eyes, making sure the kid couldn't tell how shaken up she was. "What happened?" he asked her, voice hard.
"I had a feeling I should come down here," she relayed again. "I was here for less than a minute before I heard the screams, then I saw Black appeared at the staircase. Then-" she cut herself off abruptly.
"Then what?" Harry pressed with a hint of impatience.
Winona swallowed. "Then he ran past me, out the portrait hole," she said, lying by omission and feeling like shit for doing it. But she didn't want to put her issues onto Harry, he had enough to worry about without this on his plate, too.
"You didn't try to stop him?" he asked, sounding angry.
Eyebrows shooting up, she met his eyes properly, her usual strength returning to her. "I didn't have a wand," she informed him primly. "What was I meant to do? Tackle him to the floor?"
Harry had the decency to look a little sheepish. "Sorry," he murmured, but he was already forgiven. "You're alright?"
She nodded, casting a look over at Ron, who was surrounded by a group of first-years, relaying his tale of bravery to their eager, hero-worshipping faces. "I guess Ron is too," she said idly, slowly beginning to feel more like herself.
"I'm going to go check on Hermione," Harry said, not able to accomplish even a smile, making Winona sad. "Winnie," he said before turning away, lowering his voice in such a way that she realised he was about to say something private. "You'll tell me if you..." he looked left and right, "see anything, about Sirius Black, won't you?"
Winona wasn't sure that was something she could promise, but nevertheless she nodded, not wanting to say no to his hopeful face.
"Thanks," he sighed, as though this were a load off his shoulders, nodding to her and the twins before turning and heading for the other side of the room where she could just see Hermione's bushy head of hair perched at the table near the fire.
She lost herself in thought, staring after the Boy-Who-Lived with a faraway expression, only jolting out of it when Fred gently squeezed her leg, thumb brushing tenderly over the inside of her knee, making a curious tingle run down her spine.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Fred asked, lowering his voice to a whisper, as it was obvious a group of fourth years next to them were attempting to eavesdrop.
"I'll be fine," she promised him vaguely, looking away from where Harry was murmuring with an anxious-looking Hermione. Her plain grey eyes met his cornflower-blue orbs, and she attempted something of a smile. "I just need to speak with Dumbledore," she said, casting a look over at the portrait hole as though the Headmaster might march through. "As soon as humanly possible," she added in a murmur. They were quiet, and Winona began to feel uncomfortable under Fred's intense gaze. "Are you sure Ron's alright?" she checked, and those seemed to be the magic words, because Fred suddenly leapt to his feet and turned to shoot his brother a snide look – the younger Weasley lapping up the attention like a thirsty cat presented with a bowl of milk.
"I think he's fine," George said with a chortle, and Winona managed a feeble laugh.
Everyone remained rather quiet, the twins tried to start up a round of Exploding Snap, but each time the cards blew up everyone in the common room flinched as though someone had screamed. So they quickly stopped that, going back to wandering around the common room, making lewd jokes about Sirius Black being in the dorms that nobody actually enjoyed.
Angelina and Alicia came over to sit with Winona, and thankfully they kept the questions to a minimum. She leant against her friends, listening as they gently tossed about theories of how the mass murderer had gotten onto the grounds in the first place.
"I'm afraid there's no sign of Black in the castle," McGonagall said tightly when she appeared through the portrait hole just as the sun was breaking out over the clouds. The students of Gryffindor seemed to sigh as one, both relieved they were safe and disappointed Black hadn't been caught.
"How'd he get past the Dementors, Professor?" a brave seventh year spoke up, his Irish accent lilting.
"You shouldn't concern yourself with such things, Miller," McGonagall replied sternly, but there was a frustrated glint to her eye that told Winona she'd been wondering the exact same thing. "Everybody is to return to their dorms and try and get some sleep before classes."
There was a general groan of disappointment. "But, Professor, how're we meant to handle class on only two hours of sleep?" asked a determined fourth year.
"Yeah, not to mention the traumatic experience we've just endured!" Fred added loudly, and the whole common room nodded in vehement agreement.
"Classes will resume as usual," their Head of House told them, her voice low and stringent. "Off to your dorms," she prompted sharply when nobody moved. "Now." Slowly, people began to rise, dragging their feet and muttering between one another irritatedly.
Winona sighed, taking Angelina's hand and letting the other girl pull her to her feet. She yawned, covering her mouth with one hand as she began to shuffle over to the twins. The common room was almost empty now, only she and her friends left.
"Andrews," the Transfiguration teacher said lightly, and Winona wasn't sure whether to be glad or distressed by the summons. She turned, all of her friends doing the same. "You may all go on up to bed," McGonagall said with a steely undertone, her beady eyes fixed onto Winona. "I wish to speak only with Miss Andrews."
With raised eyebrows, the girls nodded, checking Winona was okay before heading up the stairs and out of sight. The twins hesitated, so she quickly nodded to them, and with a reluctant glance they hurried up their own stairs off to the left.
"Yes, Professor?" Winona asked once they were alone.
McGonagall's reply didn't surprise her in the least. "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office," she said quietly, and though she was tired, she was used to operating on little-to-no sleep, and just nodded her head, following the Professor out the portrait hole.
Dumbledore's office was far warmer than the rest of the castle, and the moment she was inside she made a beeline for the crackling fire, bringing up her hands to the flames, sighing in content as the heat sank into her skin.
Dumbledore was sitting quietly at his desk. He didn't make a move to address her, nor did she address him. Instead they sat in semi-uncomfortable silence, Winona staring at the flames, and Dumbledore staring at her.
"I didn't see anything to suggest this might happen," she was the first to speak, deciding silence was only keeping her from her bed longer.
"I hadn't thought you did," the Headmaster told her patiently, and she stepped even closer to the flames, enjoying the way her flesh began to sting with the heat. "Nobody was hurt, Winona," he said in his deep, aged sort of voice.
"But what if they had been?"
"But they weren't."
She huffed, the air leaving her lungs sharply.
"You are not responsible for everything you do or do not see," Dumbledore reminded her, and she finally turned from the flames to frown at him, her ridiculous fluffy bunny slippers making her feel inadequate in the regal, magnificent room. She padded across the space, thanking Merlin that the twins hadn't bought her the ones that squeaked, and took a seat in the big, comfortable chair she so often claimed.
"What's the point in having these visions, if I don't see the important things?" she asked him seriously. Dumbledore steepled his fingers under his chin, staring at her with piercing blue eyes. "The outcome of a Quidditch match hardly compares to Black breaking into Gryffindor Tower," she added in something of a growl.
"Perhaps having prior knowledge of this would have put you in danger."
"I was already in danger," she replied sharply. "I was face to face with Black – without a wand."
The Headmaster sat back against his regal chair. "Do you believe Sirius Black had any intention of harming you?" he asked, voice carefully measured. She didn't want to talk about this, about his intentions or abilities or dangers. She wanted to know one thing, and one thing only, but she knew she wasn't the one in charge of this conversation.
She opened her mouth to reply, then recalled what she'd told the twins. "No," she told him flatly, bewildered by her own answer. She wanted to ask why this was (it didn't make sense, after all; why would a psychotic mass-murderer break into a school guarded by Dementors, but mean no harm?) but Dumbledore kept talking.
"How did you know to go into the common room?" he questioned lightly, eyes twinkling like they were exchanging banana bread recipes and not talking about the traumatic events of the evening.
"I just knew," she said rather lamely. He stared at her, waiting for her to go on. "In my mind, it was almost like I thought I'd forgotten something down there, a niggling thought that I had to be there for some reason. I acted on instinct, heading down the stairs, then I saw him."
Dumbledore hummed as though she'd said something particularly interesting, nodding almost to himself, rather than to her.
"When is your next lesson with Professor Trelawney?" he asked abruptly, and she sank further into the squishy cushions of the provided chair.
"In a few days. Why?"
"There is another branch of magic that I believe you should learn," he began, peering at her from over his delicate, half-moon spectacles. She tried not to shift awkwardly in her seat. "It's called Occlumency."
He didn't immediately elaborate, and Winona grew uneasy. "What exactly is Occlumency, sir?" she prompted him, and his stare narrowed seriously.
"It's a form of protecting your mind against unwanted attacks," he told her slowly. "It isn't easy, but I believe it will prove a crucial skill for you to learn."
"Why, though?" she pressed, annoyed by his hedgy answers.
"It prevents your enemy from entering your mind, stepping through your memories by way of a magic called Legilimency." Dumbledore paused, the silence was heavy. "There are many wizards who would do unspeakable things in order to get just a glimpse inside your head, Miss Andrews," he told her, the earnest tone he used making her shudder. "Particularly in these coming years..." he added mysteriously, but she ignored that part. There were more important things to cover.
She felt uneasy, fear trickling through her insides like a poison, the phantom sensation prickling at her skin.
"It is also my belief that, once you learn Occlumency, your visions will be easier to manage and control," he continued, and she felt a sprout of hope in her gut.
"How will I learn?" she asked, her voice weaker than she would have liked.
"I will be giving you the lessons myself," he told her, and she blinked in surprise. "The knowledge inside your mind can't be accessed by anybody, not even those we trust most." Winona's brow furrowed at his strong words. "These visions were given to you, Miss Andrews; nobody else," he said rather simply, as though this were the only explanation needed.
"How will it work?" she asked rather than ask more questions she knew would remain unanswered. "Do I have to take some kind of potion?"
"I will enter your mind, as an enemy would, and you will attempt to fight me off."
Apprehensive, Winona frowned at him further. "But, wouldn't that mean you will see into my memories?" she asked carefully.
"Yes."
"But you just said nobody else could know what I've seen."
Dumbledore's sapphire eyes twinkled, but not with humour like she'd expected. "There are exceptions to every rule, Winona," he said plainly, and she frowned again, something about the way he'd thrown in her first name making her uneasy. His expression cleared, a carefree humour back in place like it had never left, and she wondered if she'd somehow imagined the entire exchange. "We will begin on Thursday night," he told her, reassuring her that it was all very much real.
"I'm going to be having lessons with you and Trelawney?" she asked, quickly realising this was a different day to the one she usually met the Divination Professor on. She tried not to sound too annoyed, but something about the way he smiled told her she hadn't succeeded.
"Occlumency has little theory to go over," he assured her gently, eyes twinkling again. "I understand that is a fact that will please you greatly."
She looked away sheepishly, trying not to think about how Dumbledore was most likely more than aware of her less than impressive grades.
"Go on back to bed. I dare say you could use a few hours of sleep," he told her, kindly waving her from his office. "Don't dally now," he added, reminding her of Sirius Black's appearance – as though she'd somehow forgotten.
"Sir," she said firmly, refusing to leave her seat. He seemed mildly surprised by her stubborn behaviour, but kept his attention on her, sensing she wouldn't let it drop. "There's something more."
"And what is that, may I ask?"
She took a deep breath, letting the cool air in her lungs calm her. "He knew my name," she said, voice shaking over the confession. Dumbledore's eyes glinted with an emotion she couldn't put a name to. "Sirius Black knew my name," she repeated herself firmly, swallowing around her painfully dry throat. "How?"
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, giving her no immediate answer. Instead he leaned back in his chair and stared at her contemplatively.
"Sir?" she pressed after a good few minutes of nothing but silence. She suddenly got the feeling, stronger than ever, that things were being kept from her. Important, life altering things.
"I believe, Miss Andrews, that some things are better left unknown," he finally said, the words wholly unsatisfying.
"Some things are better left unknown?" she echoed, incredulous and very rightly pissed off. "That's seriously what you're going with right now?"
Dumbledore didn't so much as blink. "You need to trust that I know what's best-"
"What aren't you telling me?" she deadpanned, an unspoken threat in her voice.
Dumbledore considered her again, taking in the dangerous glint to her eyes. "You need sleep, Winona," he said calmly. "I'll see you next Thursday to begin our lessons."
It was an obvious dismissal, one she knew better than to ignore. So with great reluctance, Winona stood to her feet. Glaring at the Headmaster with unbridled resentment, she left the office, letting the door slam on her way out, but that did nothing to ease the turmoil in her gut or quiet the desperate, screaming questions in her head.
A/N: Hey guys – so some of you leave the best reviews ever, and they make me smile so big and just turn my whole week around. I wanted to thank you so much again for those of you who take the time to review.
From now on I'd like to give special mention to those reviews that hit me the most, and this week's pick is turtlethewriter. Thank you so much for your kind words. Your excitement for this story fuels my own, and I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last one.
See you all again soon!