"Ten Knuts on Gryffindor to win," Lee was saying in her ear, and she looked away from the knot in the wood of the table to blink at him, taking a moment to process what he was saying.
"Lee, I've told you a thousand times, I don't care for gambling," she said with as much patience as she could manage.
"You're the 'Seer'," he said with a teasing sneer, still not believing her, which was probably – definitely – a good thing. "Shouldn't you love it?"
Winona decided to ignore him, which, as she'd learnt over the years, was easier said than done. Thankfully, a sixth year spoke up from opposite them, drawing him into a conversation about Quidditch, which was all anyone seemed able to talk about over the past few days. The excitement leading up to the game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was stifling, and although Winona was usually one to get swept up in the rivalry of it all, she had more consuming things on her mind.
She'd seen Jeremiah only in class and at meal times, he hadn't sought her out as he used to, and it had been nearly three whole weeks. The Easter holidays had come and gone since they'd spoken, and Winona was sure it was going to drive her to insanity.
With every day she felt sicker and sicker, like all her shame was gathering into a ball in her gut, weighing her down and making her ill. She felt like an idiot, of course Jeremiah was just using her – what did she expect? He was a Slytherin, after all.
The only relief was the fact that nobody knew. She wouldn't have been able to handle it had the whole school learned of her romp in the sheets with the unfairly sexy Slytherin. But in a way, it was almost just as bad, being the only person who knew. She knew she could have told anyone, but something – probably shame – kept her from opening her mouth.
"We know, Wood!" her favourite voices were shouting over the noise of the full Hall. "We get it! Go eat your peas and stop bothering us about it!"
The twins dropped down opposite her, exchanging amused eye rolls as they started sweeping food onto their empty plates.
"Wood still going on about game strategy?" she asked, glad for the distraction. It felt like eons since she'd spent any time with them, and without realising it, she'd begun to miss them desperately. Fred had been spending a lot of his days with Angelina, George had been busy studying for OWLs, and she'd been distracted by her mounting guilt, retreating into her art like it was the answer to all the world's problems.
"If he asks us if we're sure our aim is good enough one more time," Fred told her through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, Harry's getting sick of it too," she nodded, gesturing down the table to the Boy-Who-Lived, who had a glazed, exhausted look to his eyes as Wood prattled on incessantly about points and Snitches and aerodynamics. It was enough to drive anyone off the Astronomy Tower. "You nervous about the match tomorrow?" she asked them, scooping herself out some apple sauce to go with her pork.
" 'Course not," George scoffed like the mere suggestion was ludicrous.
"When do we ever get nervous?" Fred asked with a similar snort.
"Around any girl with a sizeable rack," she deadpanned cheekily.
"If that were true, we wouldn't be able to talk to you without blushing," Fred argued, then paused as he realised what he'd just said. George burst into loud laughter, leaning back and clutching his stomach as Fred's face slowly began to flush, tips of his ears turning red.
Winona smirked widely, endlessly amused by these two ridiculous boys. "Spend a lot of time staring at my rack, do you?" she asked him cheekily, wagging her eyebrows suggestively and leaning back on the bench so her chest was on clear display. Fred was flushed pink and staring up at the ceiling to avoid looking, George was laughing so hard he struggled to breathe, and Winona was sniggering with her chest still thrusted out provocatively.
And that was how the others found them.
"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Alicia demanded exasperatedly. Their appearance made George and Winona get ahold of themselves, trailing off into quieter chuckles, while Fred remained red and silent, staring unyieldingly at the enchanted ceiling.
Angelina took a seat beside him, her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked between them carefully. Fred was still getting ahold of himself, and Winona rolled her eyes, kicking him under the table, making him jump as the tip of her shoe came into contact with his shin.
Thankfully, the strange reaction and equally strange moment passed quickly, and the red began to fade from his cheeks as he realised Angelina was staring at him expectantly. "Winnie's a nuisance, is what's going on here," he finally said, shooting Winona a glare that lacked any real heat.
"Fred momentarily forgot I was a bird," she explained to Alicia, Katie, Hope and Angelina, who all looked varying degrees of amused.
"Must you be so crass?" Hope asked from further down the table. "Bird," she echoed in distaste. "Would you call yourself a 'woman', for once? Heaven forbid you act like a lady."
George laughed so suddenly that he sprayed Katie with pumpkin juice. "Winona…a lady!" he squawked like it were the funniest joke in the history of wizard-kind. Fred laughed too, reaching over to slap his twin on the back at the sheer hilarity.
Hope looked less than pleased by the display, but went back to her soup with dignity. It wasn't Hope's fault – she was great, and usually fun to be around, but she'd been raised as a traditional witch, so her values and expectations were a little…ridiculous to the others.
"I could be a lady if I wanted to," Winona argued before taking a deep gulp of juice then wiping her mouth on the back of her hand for effect. They broke out into loud guffaws again, and the girls all chuckled along. "We've just established that the twins don't get nervous before games," she began, spooning herself a few more carrots. "What about you three? Any nerves for the big match?"
"Just nerves that Wood'll skin us alive if we don't win," Alicia replied with a grimace that Katie matched.
"You'll do great!" Winona assured them.
"Yeah, yeah," she said with a roll of her eyes, turning to Lee on her other side and starting a conversation about the Potions final that Snape was already preparing them for.
Winona noticed Ange giving her an odd sort of side-eye, but she caught her gaze and it was wiped from her expression, a smile replacing it as she began to strike up a conversation about the World Cup that would be happening over the summer.
They got back to the Tower but nobody went up to bed. Everybody seemed to hover in the common room, supercharged with nervous energy for the match. Winona knew the twins weren't nervous per se, but she knew they had a great deal of pressure hanging over their heads, and as such, they acted as they usually did when in that position.
They became giant noise machines.
They made up a game of tossing Exploding Snap cards in people's faces as a cheap sort of Russian Roulette. Then, when people began playing, they started shouting commentary out over the gathered crowd, even beginning to take bets from a few of the more excitable Gryffindors.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were camped out across the room, away from the bulk of the activity, and Wood was crouched in the corner, muttering to himself over a miniature model of a Quidditch pitch.
The Chasers were all gathered around the twins, more than happy for the distraction as they laughed at their antics.
"Step right up! Step right up!" Fred and George were shouting over the crowd. "Place your bets: who gets their eyebrows singed off first? Will it be Finnigan?" they paused to lift Seamus' hand over his head, "or Thomas?" they did the same with Dean.
There was a shout from the spectators, but Winona had lost interest long ago. The ball of horrible shame in her stomach grew by the minute, and although she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed where it was peaceful and quiet, she still wanted to support the team.
Compromising with herself, she sat by the fire out of everyone's way, leant up against the wall and alternating between watching the twins' antics and sketching a side-profile of Jeremiah, trying to get that smirk just right...
"Whatcha drawing?"
With a squeak, Winona slammed her sketchbook shut, looking up with wide eyes to see Fred leaning over her curiously. Glancing around him, Winona saw the rest of the team wandering up the stairs, Wood having finally cracked and ordered them to go to bed.
Fred seemed bemused by her violent reaction, but she just pretended it hadn't happened, shoving her sketchbook to the very bottom of her bag and beginning to stuff her pencils in their case. She turned once she was done, Fred's hand held out in front of her.
Pausing for only a moment, Winona took his hand. His skin was really warm, and rough with callouses from all his experiments, and she found herself unthinkingly comparing it to Jeremiah's. The Slytherin's were cool and perfectly smooth, like he spent his evenings rubbing in cream to keep them that way.
…She decided she liked Fred's hands much better.
He lifted her to her feet like she weighed absolutely nothing, and she smiled at him as she watched him reach down to scoop up her bag, holding it out and gently placing the strap on her shoulder. It was incredibly sweet, and she smiled up at him gratefully.
"Are you okay, Win?" he asked before she could step around him, and she rocked back, leaning her weight against the wall, warmed from the crackling fire.
"Of course I am," she told him, tilting her head back to get a good look at him. When they stood this close, she was reminded of how tall he was. The top of her head only came to his nose. "Why wouldn't I be?" she countered, tilting her head as she observed him, wondering if he really knew her well enough to know something had been bothering her.
"Well, the last few weeks..." he trailed off, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "You just haven't been yourself," he finished, dropping his hands only to shove them into his pockets in a familiar move.
"Haven't I?" she murmured, looking away, stormy eyes focusing on the window across from her, where she could just make out where inky tree tops faded into starry night sky.
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" he asked softly, much more gently than he usually handled things.
She didn't want to lie, she wasn't even sure if she could. Swallowing, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug, trying not to even blink, because whenever her eyes were shut she saw flashes of endless, silky soft skin, and fingerprint bruises on her hips, and felt the phantom ache between her legs that had hovered for days.
Stupidstupidstupid-
"Win?"
"I'm fine, Fred," she told him, hating herself just that little bit more. She finally looked back at him, forcing the closest thing she could possibly find to a smile onto her mouth. His head was tilted down so he could look into her eyes, and in his own cornflower-blue gaze she saw endless, undeserved concern.
She suddenly wanted to throw up, guilt twisting in her stomach like the blade of a serrated knife.
"I'm gonna head to bed," she told him with a painful swallow. "Night, Freddie."
Fred didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue either. "Yeah," he murmured lamely, a sad suspicion in his eyes that just about killed her right there. "Night."
The next day dawned, but Winona slept through most of breakfast. She hadn't been getting much sleep lately, for obvious reasons, and she supposed it all had to catch up with her at some point. She was irked that neither Angelina nor Alicia had woken her up, but she knew they had more important things on their mind, what with the match and all.
The team weren't there when she got down to breakfast, and Lee told her they'd already gone down to the Pitch. He and Hope were heading down themselves, but she had to eat or she was worried she'd be sick, so she waved them on ahead and remained behind the chug some pumpkin juice and finish off her breakfast.
The Hall was practically empty by the time she left, so she ended up walking to the Pitch alone. It was quiet, and she kept her mind off less than savoury topics as she wandered down, winding through the castle towards the entryway.
"Hey, Lion," a smooth voice spoke, and her heart stuttered so violently in her chest that she was momentarily worried it might give out altogether. She swallowed, slowly turning on her heel until she caught sight of Jeremiah standing in a doorway, arms crossed over his green sweater, a large, seductive smirk pasted across his lips.
"Hey, Snake," she replied back, just glad her voice didn't fail her, even if it was a little shaky. She stared at him, taking in the dangerous and leering – but somehow still sexy – glint to his dark, dark brown eyes. "You're not down at the game?" she asked when it became clear he wasn't going to be the first to talk.
"Saw you stay behind at breakfast, thought I'd take the time to say hello," he said it so innocently, like they were actual friends and not just two people who'd shagged one time.
"How-how've you been?" she asked, cursing herself when she stammered, fighting to keep the grimace from her face.
He didn't answer, just smirked again as he stepped away from the doorway, tossing his head back in a move that clearly called for her to move inside the room. And like putty in his wonderful, skilled hands, she complied.
The classroom was old and abandoned, and although she wasn't sure what he was planning to do with her, she gently put down her bag of art supplies anyway, eyeing the stacked desks and chairs and the old, dusty blackboard sitting by the far wall. The only light in the room came from the windows, but odd sort of curtains had been hung over them, so very little sunlight seeped through, leaving them mostly in shadow.
She guessed he wanted to talk, which made sense, so she steeled herself and turned to begin the discussion.
"So, what are-" she was cut off as the Slytherin student swooped in for a kiss, lips crushed against hers in a bruising, possessive sort of way.
She shut her eyes out of instinct and lost herself in the feeling of his hands roaming her body. He coaxed her into kissing him back, and soon her own arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him to her as tightly as possible.
She was the first to break the embrace, reluctantly pulling away from his lips. "I've gotta get down to the game," she said breathlessly, staring up at the cracked ceiling as the Slytherin began trailing his way down her neck, one of her hands getting tangled in his inky hair.
"Why?" he grunted against the hollow of her throat, then moving on to nibble at her collarbone.
"I – uh," she broke off, unable to focus her mind on the task at hand. "I always go, to cheer on…the twins…" she panted, his touch like fire as he slid a hand up under her shirt, large palm splayed against the dimpled small of her back.
"Wouldn't you rather be here...?" he murmured into her skin, taking a portion into his mouth and gently sucking. She whimpered, her pulse racing and her core throbbing. "With me?" he finished, pulling away from her, his hands already pulling impatiently at her shirt, yanking it up and over her head.
She gave in, and it all happened very quickly after that. Their clothes didn't even come completely off, just pushed off to the side so each could gain access to their desired areas. It was different to being on the small bed in the Hog's Head, instead she had her back pressed firmly against the wall, the rough stone scraping her back with each thrust that she met with vigour, drinking him in like he was a pond and she was dying of thirst.
His fingers grasped at her thighs, keeping leverage for every gyration of their hips. Head thrown back as he focused on her clit, she felt dirty and frantic, held against the wall with nothing but a thin closed door keeping them from being discovered.
She barely had time to process it was happening, all she knew was the feel of him, long and thick inside of her, and the pulsing pleasure with every rub of her clit. He came first, but he was quick to rub her harder, quickly forcing her over the edge after him. It felt dirty and wrong but also so, so good.
His thrusts slowed as he finished, lips slanting against the column of her throat, and Winona suddenly felt boneless, sagging against the Slytherin with something of a satisfied sigh.
Jeremiah made a sort of contented sound before pulling out of her and quickly casting a charm to clean them off, then buttoning his pants while Winona leant against the wall, trying to gather herself once more.
"You're getting better at that," he told her like it was some kind of fucked up compliment. Not knowing how she was possibly meant to respond, she managed a shaky smile, running her hands over her askew clothes, then brushing her fingers through her tangled hair. "See you around," he added with a casual smirk, and just when she thought he might lean in for a goodbye kiss, he turned and left the room, strutting away like he had gotten exactly what he wanted…which, she supposed, he had.
She suddenly felt soiled and dirty and cheap, and although she would have loved to shower, she knew she had to get down to the Pitch for the game, which by now had undoubtedly already started.
She got down to the field as quickly as she could on her weak, shaky legs, led by the roars of the enthusiastic crowd. She was quick to climb the stairs, putting the events of the morning from her mind and hurrying onto the Gryffindor stands. She found Hope and her girlfriend sitting near the end, and shot them a weak smile as she took a seat beside them, turning her attention to the game.
It was fifty-ten to Gryffindor, but quickly Winona was learning that this wasn't an ordinary game. The tension that had arisen throughout the school was more than obviously playing out of the Pitch in front of them. Bludgers were more dangerous than ever, and the Slytherins seemed intent on causing as much damage as humanly possible.
It wasn't until Malfoy reached out and grasped the back of Harry's broom in a tactic that should have made his whole House ashamed that she realised how bad this game was getting. Still, she almost felt like she wasn't in her body, her mind half still in that empty classroom with Jeremiah, recalling the way his lips had felt along her collarbone and the way he'd moved against her, desperately chasing his own release.
She was so lost in thought that she'd forgotten to follow the game, and all of a sudden there was a massive, massive cheer that swept through the Pitch, and she turning her attention to the players to see Harry holding up the tiny, squirming Golden Snitch.
She cheered along with everybody else, but her heart was only half in it. Gryffindors began pouring onto the field, and she stood up robotically, following her cheering Housemates down the stairs.
With a great deal of effort she managed to push Jeremiah from her mind, focusing on getting to the others.
It was hard to fight through to crowd, thick and enthusiastic as it was, but she managed it, finding Harry first and swooping in to ruffle his untameable hair. If he grinned any wider he'd probably split his lip, and not even an overcome Oliver Wood sobbing into his shoulder could dampen his happiness.
An arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and with a gasp her mind flew to Jeremiah. Spinning around with wide eyes, she was both disappointed and relieved to find it was just Fred, the taller boy beaming down at her, sky blue eyes shining with glee.
"You did it!" she shouted happily over the crowd, and his grin widened, bending down to wrap her in a tight hug, laughing delightedly into her shoulder. She laughed too, unable to help herself; his excitement was contagious. She threw her own arms around Fred's shoulders, holding on tight and giggling as he spun her around. Once he finally put her down, she held on while her dizziness faded, then took the time to press a happy kiss against his slightly prickly cheek.
She pulled back, beaming up at him, and he was smiling back like he could die happy in that moment. The contented cheer was so intense, and the glint to his eyes was excited and eager, his grip on her tightening slightly, as though afraid she might pull away. She opened her mouth to congratulate him again, but somebody slammed into her side, effectively ending the moment.
Winona tumbled to the grass, and she looked up to see Katie on top of her, laughing in pure delight as she hugged her friend, her Quidditch robes dirty from the game, but neither of them cared. She hugged Katie back, then, for reasons unknown to her, looked back up at Fred.
An odd sort of weight appeared in her gut as she laid eyes on him, finding him wrapped up in Angelina, long arms curled around her waist as they snogged their victory. Katie spied them too and let out a whooping cheer. Winona forced her eyes away to see Harry now holding the Cup high above his head, the crowd's roaring cheers growing borderline deafening.
She joined in with as much enthusiasm as she could possibly stomach, throwing herself into the celebrations and trying her hardest to keep the shame from swallowing her whole.
Exams were pushing everyone over the edge.
Angelina had Alicia and Hope holed up in the library at every spare minute, studying for OWLs. She'd tried to guilt Winona into joining them, but not even the threat of failing her fifth year was enough to get her interested in schoolwork. She studied a little bit, just enough to keep her head above water – but in the end, she didn't care what OWLs she did or didn't get; she didn't need any of them to become an artist.
She was close with Angelina, of course, but there was always a slight disconnect in their friendship. Angelina thought school and grades were more important than anything. For Winona, it was more just a way to fill in time and learn the basics to control her magic.
So, it surprised no one when this tension came to a tipping point one night a few days before they were to sit for their first OWLs.
"You can't just stick your head in the sand this time!"
"Would you just keep your nose out of my business? What difference does it make to you whether or not I do well on my OWLs?"
"It makes a difference because you're my friend, and I care about you! These exams are beyond important, Winona! You need to take them seriously!"
"I don't need an O in Potions or Charms to become an artist, Ange! So what does it matter?"
"You can't operate under this fantasy that everything will just work out the way you want it to! Life takes hard work!"
"I know! Why do you think I spend all my free time sketching?!"
"Come off it! Even the twins are studying, and that alone should make you realise you're being an idiot!"
The entire common room was staring at the scene with wide eyes, bouncing between each of them as they spoke like rivals at a tennis match. The twins had stood up from where they'd been hovering over a table, bored stupid as they read through a difficult passage in their Transfiguration textbooks. Now their attention was solely on their friends, a rare, wary glint to their cornflower-blue eyes.
"Would you just fuck off already, Ange?" Winona hissed, growing more and more irritated with every word coming out of her mouth. She also didn't really appreciate being called an idiot in front of the entire tower. She had enough going on in her life without Angelina starting fights over OWLs in the middle of the common room. "Quit being such a bitch," she added with a growl, sheerly in retaliation.
Ange's eyes gleamed with fire. "Fine, but don't come crying to me when you end up even more poor than you are now because nobody wants to buy your stupid drawings!"
The room went quiet, nobody quite knowing how to react. Winona's hands balled into tight fists, her fingernails biting painfully into the skin of her palms. Her moonlight hair began to stand on end, crackling with dangerous, rage-fuelled magic.
Sensing the approaching fight, the twins were quick to throw themselves between the two furious witches, George placing his hands on Winona's tense shoulders while Fred stood in front of Angelina, hands held out placatingly.
"Alright, I think the upcoming OWLs might have us all just a little wired," Fred was saying to his sort-of girlfriend in a cautious tone of voice. "What do you say we forget the animosity and break out a deck of Exploding Snap?"
Winona leaned around George to glower at Angelina, her eyes like the heart of a raging typhoon, a promise for revenge if she was pushed any further.
Angelina seemed to realise she'd gone too far, the expression on her face more one of hesitant regret than anything else, like she were trying to come up with a worthy apology. Winona didn't have the patience to stick around and listen, spinning on her heel so violently that her long blonde hair slapped George clean across the face.
Shoving the portrait hole open, she all but dove out of it, turning down the hall and making a beeline for her favourite hideout for when things on the ground got to be a bit too much.
Angry, Winona's shoes slapped against the stone steps. The tower was empty – thank Merlin – and she moved immediately for the railing, pressing her palms against the metal, feeling it cold and firm under her hot skin.
The Astronomy Tower was her favourite place in the whole school. With its many open arches and thin railings, you could see everything in the whole valley, from the courtyard to the lake to the far-off mountains.
Usually at night it was filled with students studying Astronomy, but it was still quite early in the evening, the stars having only just begun to appear in the deep, velvet blue of the sky.
She took a seat at the edge, as close to the railing as was wise, then leaning forwards and pressing her forehead against the chilly metal, staring down over the sloping towers that made up the castle, feeling the frosty breeze brush her warm cheeks and letting its temperature slow her still-racing pulse.
"Win?"
She knew someone would come find her eventually, and she relieved to find that it was Fred's voice that broke the thick silence she'd settled into. She didn't speak, keeping her lips stubbornly sealed shut. She was happy to have company, but that didn't mean she was in the mood to talk about it.
Fred exhaled loudly and she heard his footsteps hitting the floor as he padded towards her, taking a seat along the railing beside her. Driven by instinct, she leant into his warmth, letting it chase away the chill of the approaching night.
"You can't let her get to you," Fred said it casually, like they were discussing the weather. He stared up at the darkening sky, just as she did. Rather than reply, she began to count the stars, a mindless task to keep herself occupied. She thought it was a strange thing to say about his girlfriend, but she didn't bother pointing it out.
His voice was careful and patient, everything she wasn't used to, and her lips tipped up at the corners, losing track of her counting before deciding not to bother. She very carefully considered how to answer, and eventually knew she wanted, more than anything, to tell the truth.
"D'you think I'm smart?" she asked hesitantly, the words so quiet that they were nearly swept away by the wind blowing past them like waves crashing to shore.
Fred shifted backwards in surprise. "What kind of question is that?" he asked, and although she wasn't looking, she could feel his intense stare pressing into the side of her face. Reaching up, she brushed her windswept hair behind her ear. He seemed to realise she was serious, and his incredulous stare turned concerned. "You're the smartest person I know, Win."
It was a lie, but she was warmed by the attempt nonetheless. "That's utter horse shit and we both know it," she argued, a barely-there smile hanging, stationary, on her lips.
"Is that why you got so angry at Ange before?" he asked in a moment of rare insight. "Because you think you're not smart?"
Winona sighed, inhaling the bitterly cold air and exhaling a puffy white cloud that reminded her of the cartoons she used to watch as a kid. "Words and facts and theory…it doesn't come easy to me," she told him quietly, twisting her fingers together in her lap, staring down at them like they were more interesting than what she was saying. "I don't understand things the way other people seem to be able to."
"How so?"
She lifted her shoulders in a meek shrug. "It's hard to put into words," she said with a hint of shyness, her rosy cheeks melting a few shades darker. "I guess I just don't have the mind for schoolwork. I think in terms of brushstrokes and colour palates – it's like I was wired for art and nothing else."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Fred insisted, giving up all pretence of watching the stars and turning to face her. His gaze was fixed firmly on her face, but she didn't feel up to meeting his eye, keeping her own on her tangled fingers. "Win, the way you see the world, the way you think…I think it's beautiful."
Stunned by the open sincerity of the confession, Winona finally looked up to meet his eyes in the glow of the moon – the only source of light they had. She tilted her head, that little crease appearing between her brows, the one that always led to a headache, but that Fred had always secretly found adorable.
She considered questioning him, curiosity burning in her chest like a fire, aching to know more, to hear him elaborate and maybe call her beautiful again. There was a glint to his eyes that she'd never in a million years be able to recreate on paper, and his red hair seemed almost luminescent in the light from the stars. For once she didn't want to draw what she was seeing – she wanted to capture it on film so she could watch it replay over and over, forever, with perfect clarity.
But he spoke up before she could press him for more. "Ignore Ange, she's just under a lot of stress from OWLs – we all are," he said gently, and she blinked, the strange spell that had befallen them broken.
"Why do you like her?" she asked, quietly curious.
Fred was silent again and she caught him frowning as he considered his answer, before she returned her attention back to the stars, beginning to trace shapes in the endless sea of constellations.
"She's nice," he finally answered her lamely. Winona turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, a mischievous smirk on her lips. Fred let out a breathy laugh, unable to help it. She was always doing that; making him laugh. "I mean, she's wicked good at Quidditch, and it helps that she's downright gorgeous…"
"This isn't the most convincing pitch I've ever heard, Freddie," she told him with a small laugh that made him grin. It was so close to what George had said the previous month, about Alicia. The pair of twins were so alike in more ways than one. "Do you like her, or do you like the snogging?"
"Bit of both, I think it's fair to say…" he admitted cheekily, and she tossed her head back with an exasperated look at the heavens. After a moment of quiet, Fred continued on. "I s'pose, I'm with her because it's…safe," he told her with startling honesty.
Winona blinked, muscles locking into place. There was something about the rawness with which he spoke that made her afraid, like they were on the precipice of something huge. Like he was unknowingly trying to pull them both over the edge.
"Safe?" she asked, voice nearly lost again in the wind. "Since when have you ever done anything because it's safe?"
Fred said nothing for a minute, and she slowly turned her head to the side, finding him already watching her. But when their eyes met he didn't smile like she'd expected. She stared at him, breathless with the knowledge that this was her best friend, and that in that moment they could tell one another anything.
And the weight of that reminded her she was keeping a big, huge, monumental secret from him, and with every passing heartbeat guilt was pumped through her veins like a poison. What kind of friend was she, keeping Jeremiah a secret from the twins? She already felt disgusting, and maybe if she got it off her chest she'd feel less like she deserved to be thrown off the very Astronomy Tower she found such solace in.
"Fred-" she began in a shaky voice, but there were heavy footsteps on the stairs behind them and both students spun around to see Penelope Clearwater standing there, a stern look on her face.
"What are you doing up here?" she asked, her voice no-nonsense and prim.
"Stargazing," Winona replied without missing a beat, but she was less than impressed by the quick answer.
"Do you have written permission from a teacher?" the Head Girl asked with a sniff that reminded her distinctly of Percy.
"No."
"Then I'm afraid I'll have to deduct points and report this to your Head of House. Please return to your dormitory at once," she added, with a hint of nervousness, eyeing Fred like she didn't trust him not to argue and retaliate with a cruel prank.
"Sure thing, Penny," Fred said with a goading grin that only seemed to put her more on edge. He quickly climbed to his feet and held out a hand to Winona in a move that was becoming pleasantly familiar. She took the offered hand, smiling as he pulled her to her feet like she weighed absolutely nothing.
Once she was upright, he bowed deeply to the Head Girl, then wound his arm through Winona's and began to pull her away from the Tower. The pair shuffled around the stoic Ravenclaw, heading down the stairs slowly, making sure they didn't trip in the dark.
"Wanna head to the kitchens before going back?" Fred suggested. Winona couldn't help but notice the hope in his eyes, but she felt too tired and shook her head.
"Next time," she promised him. They were quiet again, then she couldn't help but ask, curiosity getting the better of her, "did Ange mind you coming after me?" She wasn't sure why she kept bringing Angelina up. Maybe it was because she felt like she hadn't really talked to Fred in what felt like forever, and she wanted to know as much as she could about him and his budding relationship with the brilliant Chaser.
"She disappeared up to the dorm," he replied, not seeming to think anything of her choice of topic. "Wasn't like I could follow her," he added with a shrug, and Winona felt an odd sort of sinking in her gut, like something about this answer had upset her.
She made a noise of acknowledgement rather than give a proper reply, and they faded back into silence. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, noting with a fond smile that his hands were shoved deep into his pockets, long arms straight and elbows locked as they walked. It was something she'd seen him do a million times before, but this time it was particularly endearing.
"Are you going to make up with her?" he asked suddenly.
"Yeah," she said with a tired, heavy sigh. "S'pose so."
"Good," he nodded once. "I don't want anything coming between the group."
Her mind flashed to thoughts of Jeremiah, of skin against skin and heavy breathing in her ear. "Me either," she said, but even as she spoke she knew it was wishful thinking. She knew a rift was coming, and it was only a matter of time before they finally figured out her dirty, shameful little secret. She could only hope they wouldn't hate her for it.
"Dragon Pox," Fred said the password to the Fat Lady when they arrived, casting the troll guards stationed in front of her a narrow-eyed glance. The portrait inclined her head, opening and allowing them entry.
The common room was still half-full, and people stared at her warily as she moved towards the stairs, as though not totally convinced she wasn't going to shout at them, too.
"You know where I'll be," Fred told her in an undertone when they came to a stop between the two staircases. She didn't like the sombre sort of aura he had adopted, and turned quickly, pasting a wide, cheeky grin on her face.
"Once I've made up with Ange, I'll be sure to tell her how gallant and sweet you were, coming to find me like that," she said impishly, but it didn't have the expected effect. Instead of chortling and striking a ridiculous pose as she'd thought he would, the tips of his ears went red, and he reached up to rub at the back of his neck.
"Maybe that's not such a good idea," he muttered.
"What do you mean?"
He opened his mouth to say something, then met her eyes, faltered, and seemed to have an abrupt change of mind. "Doesn't matter," he said, bouncing back quickly, a sly grin forming on his mouth. "But, when you decide to strip down to your lingerie and have a make-up pillow fight, you'll be sure to take lots of pictures, right?" he asked cheekily, the wicked glint to his crystal blue eyes seeming so natural that she wondered whether she'd misread the last few moments entirely.
Scoffing to herself, Winona smacked him upside the head before stomping dramatically up to her dorm, feeling a whole lot calmer than she had earlier that evening.
By some stroke of luck, none of the other girls were in the dorm when she walked in. None except Angelina, who was sat on her bed, head ducked as she painted her nails, a frown on her face. "I said no, Alicia-" the dark beauty began, looking up from her task with a scowl that quickly morphed into a blank stare of surprise. "Winona," she said warily, probably wondering whether she was about to get cursed into oblivion – or rather, the Hospital Wing.
"What you said wasn't okay," Winona began, opting to face the problem head on rather than let things fester.
Fred was right, nothing was worth risking their group of friends. They all meant the world to her, and she was willing to to do anything, no matter how unsavoury, to make sure things remained the same. Angelina still looked wary, chocolate eyes flickering from her face to her pocket, where she knew Winona kept her wand.
"But some of the things I said weren't cool either," Winona added begrudgingly. Angelina looked surprised by the admission. "I'm sorry I called you a bitch. You're not, you're just trying to be a good friend," she said through gritted teeth, pride swallowed in an attempt to fix things.
Angelina's eyes softened and she screwed the bottle back onto her Gryffindor-red nail polish, leaning over and fingering through her stash of colours before pulling out a bright, glimmering blue and then patting the space beside her on the bed.
Equally wary, Winona complied, toeing off her shoes before settling down onto the bedspread, watching as Angelina motioned for her to hold out a hand.
A few moments later Angelina was expertly painting her fingernails in the sparkly blue she knew to be Winona's favourite, and suddenly the tension was gone from the room, evaporated like water.
"Other than being good at Quidditch, I don't really have any passions," Angelina was the first to break the silence. "I have nothing to channel my time and energy into like you do – a person can only spend so many hours a day down at the Pitch, after all."
"Tell that to Wood," Winona interjected slyly, and her friend gave an appreciative smirk.
"I guess, when it comes down to it, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up," she continued, a look of calm concentration on her face as she painted the pinky of Winona's left hand. "Not like you and the twins. You all have such clear visions of your futures."
Winona didn't agree – she had no fucking clue what she was doing at least 90% of the time without even bringing the futureinto it. Then again, thinking of the future wasn't something Winona liked to do more than was strictly necessary (which tended to be more often than she'd like).
Winona was thrown by the new direction of conversation, but kept quiet, keeping her eyes on the nails that were slowly turning a glittering shade of deep-sea blue. "I grew up in a house of strict rules and chore charts and pocket money awarded for good grades. I guess, in some ways, I'm like Hermione," Angelina said this with a tiny shudder that made Winona grin, "I value academia, and it can give me tunnel vision."
Winona wasn't sure what to say, pursing her lips. Angelina moved onto the next hand.
"I care so much about you all that all I want is for you to succeed and be happy in life. The best way I can think to ensure that happening is through OWLs, and lists, and backup plans. I guess I'm just not very good at expressing it properly, huh?"
"What're you trying to say, Ange?" Winona had to ask, trying to make sense of the conversation.
Angelina's lips quirked up into a soft smile. "I'm sorry, I guess."
"I forgive you," Winona told her quickly, now sure it was true. "Can you forgive me?"
"Of course," she promised, and Winona grinned.
"Good, because Fred's just made it perfectly clear that I was to fix things immediately," she said with a humoured grin, careful not to move her hands from under Angelina's.
"He did?" Angelina asked, and though she couldn't see her face, Winona noticed her voice was carefully void of emotion.
"Yeah, he came and found me hiding up in the Astronomy Tower," she continued blithely, trying to pick her friend's mood up from wherever it seemed to have fallen. "Gave me a stern talking to," she added jokingly, secretly remembering it had been anything but; Winona wasn't sure Fred could even be 'stern' on his worst day. "You know how he is – never likes to see you with a frown on your face."
Ange glanced up. The look on her face wasn't peaceful, but instead rather troubled. Winona got the feeling she'd said something wrong, but couldn't for the life of her figure out what.
"What's up, Buttercup?" she asked gently, watching as Angelina pulled away from the task, Winona's nails now coated with shimmering colour.
"It's nothing," Angelina said, wholly unconvincing. Winona shot her a disbelieving look that made her huff. "I mean, it's kind of…stupid."
"Doubt it."
"It's just that you're so…pretty, and talented, and funny, and laid back, and tough…" Angelina trailed off, a hopeless sort of look on her face. Winona was more than surprised by the new direction of the conversation, blinking at Angelina in shock, trying to process what she was saying. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't really compare, do I?" she finished lamely.
"Ange, are you fucking kidding me?" Winona burst out, something of a crazed look on her pale features. Angelina was no longer surprised by her outbursts of language, but her eyebrows rose at the strong reaction. "I'm constantly covered in paint, I'm failing half my subjects, I have a mouth like a fucking sailor and the twins themselves call me a 'lost cause' at least once a week!"
Angelina didn't look convinced, in fact, none of this seemed to ease her worries. Instead, the frown on her face only grew deeper.
Gathering herself, Winona breathed deeply and tried to veer in different direction. "Ange, no matter how great you think I am, it doesn't matter," she said, and her friend's brow furrowed further. "Because it isn't a competition," she added emphatically. "It never was, and it never will be. We're two awesome women, great in our own right, and comparing ourselves to one another is pointless and stupid."
"It's just…" Angelina trailed off, her eyes glazed as she glanced over her shoulder at the cracked door to the dorm, something else weighing heavily on her mind. "You and Fred…" she said, struggling to find the words.
Winona suddenly understood with frightening clarity exactly what Angelina's concern was. And it made her insides swoop like she was on a rollercoaster, but not with guilt. Maybe something closer to panic.
"Fred and George are my best mates, that's all," Winona told her firmly, meeting her eyes without so much as a hint of hesitation. "I promise, Ange, nobody's stealing Fred from you anytime soon. Least of all me."
Angelina still didn't look convinced. "There's not even a tiny part of you that thinks you and him might...?"
Thinking on it, on the glances and tension between her and her dearest friend, she realised that there was a tiny, tiny part of her that thought maybe he'd been right all those weeks ago. That maybe she was destined to end up with one of them, after all.
But it didn't matter – she wasn't going to compromise their relationship in search of something more. Besides, he had Angelina – he was happy with her, wasn't he? – and she had Jeremiah, secret though their 'relationship' was.
Whatever was between her and Fred, it was ephemeral. It didn't have legs to stand on. It would pass, as all things did, and they would find themselves going back to normal in no time. Even without a vision, she was sure of it.
Winona made a big show of rolling her eyes. "Come off it, Ange," she said dryly, forcing a carefree grin onto her face that wouldn't have convinced the twins, but seemed to do the trick for now. "But, if you ever feel the urge to compliment me uncontrollably again, I'm not gonna stop you."
The glassy look to Angelina's eyes vanished, replaced instead by that spark of mischief that made her so fun to be around. "Insult you, is more like it," she grinned. Winona beamed back, glad the strange emotional episode seemed to be over and done with.
Angelina leaned forwards and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing tight. Surprised, Winona blinked stupidly before realising she was meant to reciprocate, hugging her friend back just as tight.
"Thanks, Winnie," Angelina mumbled into her shoulder.
"Any time, Ange," she replied, honestly surprised her attempt had worked. Things seemed to be resolved, but she couldn't help but wonder exactly what had been going through Angelina's head in the first place.
And whether or not all she'd done was set herself up to break Angelina's heart even worse sometime in the not-so distant future.
Her birthday arrived rather unexpectedly. She hadn't exactly forgotten it was coming, but she'd been so distracted by OWLs and Jeremiah that she was genuinely surprised when she woke up on a chilly March morning to a modest pile of presents at the foot of her bed.
She was the first awake, having slept so poorly the night before, and glancing over at the window she smiled softly at the mist that clouded the view, wrapping around the castle like a blanket. She was a sucker for a beautiful sunrise.
She didn't like opening gifts in front of people, so she was happy to have the opportunity to dig into her hoard without the prying eyes of her dorm mates. She peeled at the wrappings quietly, smiling as she uncovered each gift within.
Mrs Weasley had sent her a new beanie, hand-knitted wool a pretty mustard colour. She tugged it on over her sleep-mussed, butterscotch hair and smiled as her head felt instantly warmer.
She got, as always, another supply of Sugar Quills from Lee. The girls in the dorm got together like usual to buy her a new dress, one she liked but probably wouldn't ever have occasion to wear. It was pretty, a nice wine-red in colour, and shorter than she was used to – she had to thank them when they woke.
The twins had pooled together their money and bought her a new pair of boots. They weren't the most expensive on the market, nor were they particularly flash, but she'd mentioned needing a new pair since the soles of her old ones were beginning to grow thin.
She grinned, amazed that those two balls of distracting energy that were the twins cared enough to listen to what she said. That was why they were her best mates, she supposed, and she smiled wider as she tugged them on quietly, careful not to wake her dozing roommates.
They must have been from a magical catalogue, as she felt them adjust to her size as she stood up. They were simple, black faux-leather, and incredibly comfortable. Although they clearly weren't that expensive, she knew they would have cost more than she'd have liked them to spend.
She knew, however, that the twins would only be offended if she argued. The best way to proceed was just to be thankful and not mention the money. They'd be getting something equally as amazing for their birthday in a month's time. Harry, Ron and Hermione had chipped in and gotten her some Salt Water Taffy from Honeydukes, which was sweet of them.
The last present was one she hadn't been expecting in the slightest. A small box sat at the very bottom of the pile. Curious, Winona lifted the lid, blinking in shock as she saw what lay within.
It was a neckless, the chain a sparkling gold. Some kind of crystal hung from it, clear in colour and large, in the shape of a teardrop.
It was beautiful, there was no doubt about it, but it was definitely not something she could see herself wearing. She didn't like big, gaudy trinkets, she liked things to be more artful, more thought out. Still, it was gorgeous and far too expensive to be wasted on her.
Bewildered at who would possibly give her such a thing, she picked up the card beneath it, scanning the words written in perfect calligraphy.
Looking forward to seeing what it looks like on you.
-J.N.
She repeated the initials in her head, shocked when she came to the conclusion that it could only be one person.
Jeremiah Nott.
She couldn't believe he'd gotten something so elaborate for her. Was this proof that she was more than a quick shag to him? Did this mean he wanted more from her, that he considered them more than just…acquaintances who shagged in empty classrooms on occasion?
Her mind was whirring with possibilities, but it all came down to one thing: this meant he cared, and that was all she really wanted from him.
With a grin, she fastened the delicate chain around her neck, fingering the pendant gently, half afraid it might shatter under her touch.
She spent the rest of the morning sketching, even breaking out her watercolours and stroking at the parchment to her heart's content. The others woke up sooner than she'd have liked, with Alicia being the first.
"Happy birthday!" she cried, launching herself at Winona who quickly shoved her paint out of the way so it wouldn't get knocked over. Her squeal awoke Angelina and Hope, the latter of which groaned in annoyance and buried deeper under her covers. Angelina, however, responded in kind, grinning at her friend happily. "Did you like the dress?!" Alicia was asking impatiently.
Winona was quick to nod. "I have no idea where I'm meant to wear it, but I do love it," she replied honestly, and the other two girls shared a look of exasperation.
"It's a sundress, Winnie," Alicia told her slowly, like she were a bit slow. "You don't need an occasion to wear it."
"Thank you," Winona said rather than respond, turning her thankful smile onto Angelina, who beamed back. "I wish we didn't have Potions today," she said with a grimace, eager to move the conversation along.
Only, she never got to move along, because Alicia suddenly gasped and pointed to her throat. "What is that?" she demanded loudly.
Startled, Winona looked down, eyeing the large crystal hanging from her neck. "A gift," she replied with a too-casual shrug.
"From who?" Alicia pressed, marching closer and bending down so she could get a closer look, eyes narrowed as she stared at it. "It must have cost a fortune!"
"Who would spend that much money on you?" Hope asked, now begrudgingly awake, her eyes on the necklace Winona was wearing. Her voice wasn't exactly unkind, but the words themselves were more than a little insulting.
Angelina spun around to glare at the other girl. Hope was nice enough, but she could be a little insensitive at times; then again, so could Winona, so she couldn't really fault her for it. "Thanks, Hope," Winona replied sarcastically, giving a roll of her eyes. Hope crinkled her nose but didn't apologise for the comment.
"Go on then," Alicia pressed eagerly once she was sure a fight wasn't about to break out. "Who's it from?" Her eyes suddenly went wide with excitement and she gave a gasp. "Do you have a secret boyfriend you haven't told us about?!"
"No!" Winona denied it instantly, and after a heartbeat to think, she decided she wasn't technically lying. Jeremiah wasn't her boyfriend, and nothing they did together ever came close to being a date. "There was no tag," she added after a brief pause, glad she'd stashed the card in the bottom of her drawer where the others wouldn't see it.
"A secret admirer?" Angelina asked coyly. Winona snorted before she could stop herself.
"A secret admirer?" she echoed with a laugh.
Angelina smirked. "You're not completely hopeless."
"Yeah. Someone in this castle has to go for you," Hope muttered from across the room. It was a tad insulting, but that was Hope for you. Winona was used to it, and she didn't mean it as rudely as it had come across.
"Geez, it's her birthday, Hope," Alicia rolled her eyes, turning to glare at the other girl, annoyed. "Give it a break."
Hope tutted but didn't argue, disappearing into the bathroom. "She's just cranky because I left my towel on the floor the other night," Winona told them with a huff, happy to ignore their uptight roommate's reaction.
They were all quick to shower and change, and Angelina transfigured a shiny crown out of a pillow, and Winona grinned, wearing it proudly on her head as they all wandered down to breakfast.
"There she is!" the twins exclaimed when they came into sight in the Great Hall, standing from the Gryffindor table and giving loud, obnoxious cheers.
People turned to stare, but being mates with the twins made you desensitised to the stares of others, so she didn't care, grinning and adjusting the glinting red and gold crown on her head as she met the twins for a group hug.
"How's the birthday girl?!" Lee asked loudly, as though the people around them might not have put two and two together.
"Hungry," she responded, taking a seat between Fred and Alicia and beginning to pull loads of bacon onto her plate, along with a sizeable stack of pancakes, then drizzled the lot in syrup and began eating. "Love the boots, you guys are the absolute greatest!" she said gratefully, leaning around Fred to cast George an equally large smile.
"Glad you like them, Win!" George told her, reaching around his twin to clap Winona on the back in affection. She grinned, leaning into Fred's side to give him a half-hug before turning her full attention to her meal.
She glanced up at Lee a few moments later, only to see his eyes firmly focused on her chest.
"My eyes are up here, Jordan," she barked at him, and the twins began to snigger.
"I wan't looking at that," Lee hissed, and if his skin wasn't so dark, Winona was sure she could have seen him blushing. "I was looking at the giant rock hanging from your neck," he added, and Winona smothered a groan with another mouthful of pancake.
Fred leaned around her to get a good look at the expensive pendant around her neck, and she crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously.
"Ooh – I forgot to tell you!" Alicia exclaimed, turning to them all and casting Winona a sly look that made her wary. "Winona has a secret admirer!" she sang, and she was met with amused chortles from the group.
"It's true," Angelina jumped in. Winona glared at her. Traitor. "Someone sent her the necklace but didn't add a note!"
George and Lee began to make high-pitched 'oohing' noises, and Winona rolled her eyes and kept eating. Fred was the only one who didn't seem to be taking the mickey. "What if it had been cursed?" he asked lowly, so only Winona could hear his concern. The others were still making lewd jokes behind them.
"Why would anyone curse a-?"
But the words were like a switch, and suddenly she wasn't at the Gryffindor table anymore, she was falling through time, her mind leaving her body. She saw snow, it was all around her, pressing in on all sides, but she couldn't feel its chill. There was screaming, so piercing and panicked. Where was it coming from?
Flashes of green and gold, rusted metal and dark, sickening magic.
Arriving back in the present was somewhat like being dropped from a high cliff and free falling until she slammed into her body. She came to to see her plate of bacon and pancakes still mostly untouched in front of her, and everyone was beginning to stand to their feet.
Acting on instinct, Winona slammed her sketchbook shut (when had she fished it from her bag?) and quickly focused on her food.
"That was awfully rude of you," Hope was saying from across the table, and Winona could only imagine how her vision had looked from the outside.
Fred and George were hovering over her, and the latter quickly barked an insult that made the tall girl humph and move on. "You're back?" Fred murmured, and she realised he had his hands on her shoulders, holding onto her tightly, as though attempting to keep her grounded in the Hall with him – like she had any intention of floating away.
"I'm here," she promised, shoving one more forkful of breakfast into her mouth before standing and throwing her bag over her shoulder, trying to ignore how shaky and unsteady her legs were.
"You all right, Win?" George asked, holding out a hand to steady her. She kept her arms by her sides, too scared they might notice her hands shaking if she raised them.
"How bad was it?" she asked rather than answer. Her insides felt like jelly and her throat was dry, as though she'd been the one screaming.
"They thought it was weird," Fred admitted, stepping out of the way of a hurrying first year. The Hall was quickly emptying, everyone heading for class. The bell must have rung while she was out, she realised, and she grimaced at the thought. "But they're so used to you zoning out that it was nothing new. We managed to convince them you were just fed up with the conversation and struck by inspiration."
"And they bought it?"
"Seemed to, yeah," George nodded. "Even if they didn't, the only other explanation is that you're a rude bitch."
"Great," she sighed, changing directions and making a beeline for the doors. "I've gotta go see Dumbledore," she told them as they stepped out into the Entrance Hall.
"It's that bad, huh?" Fred murmured curiously, casting a glance down at her bag, where the tiny glimpse into the future lay.
"Not sure yet," she replied, though this was mostly false. She wasn't completely certain, but what little she could glean from the vision wasn't pretty. "Tell Snape where I am?"
" 'Course," the twins assured her. "See you soon?"
"Shouldn't be long," she said, then pushed herself up onto her tiptoes to ruffle their hair before turning and hurrying up the main staircase, heading in the direction of the Headmaster's office. The password was Lemon Drop, and she thanked Merlin when it worked, meaning he was in.
Stepping inside the warm office was nice. It had grown awfully familiar over the last five years, even more so now that she was having weekly Occlumency lessons with the old wizard himself.
"Miss Andrews," Dumbledore greeted her from where he was hovering over a basin of water. Blinking, she suddenly felt wary.
"Is this a bad time, sir?" she asked cautiously.
"Not at all," he told her, wandering over to his desk, his ocean blue robes dragging after him. He took a seat on his large, regal chair, then picked up a small bowl and offered it to her. "Nougat chunk?"
Having only had half a breakfast, Winona eagerly took a handful, taking a seat and munching on the candy contentedly.
"What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly, and she quickly stuffed the remaining nougat into her mouth before fishing out her sketchbook and opening it to the correct page. She placed it on the desk in the fashion that had become habit, facing Dumbledore, the sketch of the future laying open for him to see.
It was a necklace, large and ornate, some kind of heavy stone making up the whole thing, no chain in sight.
"Wait," she said abruptly, getting an idea. When she'd had the vision, the twins had most likely placed her things into her hands, but they hadn't given her any colour, so the whole thing was done in simple pencil.
Hurriedly, she took the book back and yanked out some coloured pencils, her skilled hands making quick work of the task as she added the green-blue colour of the opals set in the rusted gold metal.
She handed it back over a minute later, and the Headmaster peered down at it through his half moon spectacles. "It's cursed," she explained, and his snowy eyebrows climbed higher up on his wrinkled face. "Sometime in the future, somebody is going to try and kill you using this cursed necklace."
The professor was silent for a long, drawn-out moment. "I see," he finally muttered, utterly calm. She stared back incredulously, unable to believe how unaffected he was. "They don't succeed," he told her, and she could still do nothing but stare. "You've already shown me how I die, Miss Andrews," he reminded her gently. "Back in your first year, you brought me a sketch that showed me my end. I can assure you, it was by no cursed jewellery."
"But someone was screaming," she murmured, eyes glassy as she remembered the piercing screech of somebody cursed.
"So somebody will be harmed, even if it isn't me," he replied calmly, still staring down at the sketch pensively. "Do you have any idea of when this will happen?" he asked, finally looking up at her from over his steepled fingers.
"A few years from now, and it'll be snowing heavily," she revealed, feeling rather like a gypsy at a travelling carnival fair, giving out vague, enigmatic predictions for cash. She swallowed, banishing the thought from her mind. "But that's all I know."
Dumbledore nodded his head, then pulled out his wand to make a copy of the sketch. "Don't think too much on this, Winona," he said, utterly relaxed.
There were still questions pressing insistently at her mind, but she couldn't put them in order, still too wound up. Lifting a hand, her fingers closed around the gaudy pendant hanging from around her neck.
"Professor, Fred said something about a cursed necklace," she revealed, finally deciding on what she needed to say. "Then I had a vision about a cursed necklace." She paused, looking up at the aged wizard warily. "That can't be a coincidence."
"Perhaps it triggered something in your subconscious that led to this vision," he told her calmly. "It may simply be an indication that your powers are growing, as they always are." Winona hummed, dropping her pendant and looking over at the large, ancient grandfather clock that sat in the corner. "You should be getting to class," he said quietly. "I believe you're late for Potions?"
"Yes, sir."
Dumbledore picked up a large, beautiful phoenix feather quill, dipped it in green ink then scrawled her a note excusing her for being late. He handed it over, and she took it with a grateful nod.
"Thank you, Professor," she said quietly, and he nodded his head, watching carefully as she picked up her bag and headed from the room.
"Oh, and Winona," Dumbledore called after her, his voice carrying in the otherwise quiet room. She turned, one hand gripping the strap of her bulging bag. "Happy birthday."
She smiled thinly, ducking her head and leaving the office.
Snape was less than pleased to see her saunter in late, but even he couldn't dispute a signed note from the Headmaster, and grumpily sent her to join George in brewing the Draught of Peace. "And take that ridiculous thing off your head," he snapped, not giving her a chance to do so, merely flicking his wand, causing the weight of the transfigured crown on her head to disappear as he vanished it on the spot.
The Dungeon Bat then wandered over to his beloved Slytherins, hovering over them and awarding points for the absolute bare minimum.
"So," said George eagerly, keeping his voice down and continuing to effortlessly measure out his share of powdered unicorn horn. He always was the best out of them all at Potions. "Fred and I have butterbeer and the Honeydukes supply sorted. Lee, you're on kitchen duty, and Winona, you just need to sit there and look pretty. Shouldn't be too hard," he added, playfully charming.
"George," Winona groaned as loud as she dared. "You know I don't want to have a huge party."
"Who said this was about you?" he countered cheekily, beginning to get started on the porcupine quills.
"Your birthday is just the excuse we're using to let loose," Lee said from where he stood on the other side of the bench, next to Fred who was stirring their potion, grimacing at the smell.
Winona rolled her eyes, beyond caring, and they fell back into silence as Snape wandered back over to sneer at their work from over their shoulders.
The day passed quickly, and thankfully with little fanfare. Nobody but the Gryffindors seemed to know it was her birthday, or, if anyone else did, they didn't care enough to acknowledge it. By the time they were up in the common room, the place was buzzing in anticipation of one of the twins' famous parties.
Someone set up some music and the twins arrived back with butterbeer and food. Everyone was getting into the fun, dancing and chatting as they nibbled on their sweets. Winona didn't feel like partying, but she didn't want to disappear completely, so she found Hermione reading near the window and took a seat beside her, losing herself in her sketching as she sipped at the pint of butterbeer Lee had fetched for her.
"How goes the studying?" she asked Hermione once her wrist began to grow sore and the music was making it difficult to concentrate.
"Terrible," Hermione responded flatly, casting the common room a look of irritation.
"Why don't you go up to your dorm where it's quieter?"
"I'd never hear the end of it from Lavender and Parvati." They fell into silence for another few moments. "How're you going with studying for OWLs?"
"It's..." she trailed off helplessly, "...going."
"I'm filled with confidence," Hermione replied in a sort of deadpan.
Winona cracked a grin. "Was that a joke?" she asked playfully. Hermione's cheeks went pink. "It was, you made a joke!" Hermione only rolled her eyes. "Keep it up Granger, and before long we'll be breaking you out of detention with the best of us."
Hermione was spared from responding when Alicia appeared at their side, tugging on a lock of Winona's loose hair. "Quit colouring for once and dance with me!" she said livelily, head already bopping to the music flooding the common room.
"I'm not colouring," Winona replied defensively, but Alicia wasn't having a bar of it, grasping her friend's arm and yanking her out of her seat. "Alicia," Winona groaned, split between annoyance and amusement.
"Come on!" Alicia called over the music, some kind of rock song with loud vocals and even louder guitar riffs.
"You know I can't dance!" Winona yelled back and Alicia took hold of her hands and began to swing her around with vigour.
"Everyone can dance!"
"Except me!"
Alicia didn't care, pushing her away from her body and twirling her under her arm. Despite her dislike for dancing (and her severe lack of talent), Winona couldn't help but laugh as Alicia spun her around like a ballerina.
She wasn't usually one for parties, but this one had all her closest friends and favourite foods, so maybe it wasn't so bad after all. As she thought this, Alicia abruptly let her go, and she twirled around without boundary until somebody caught her in their arms.
Looking up, she discovered it to be Fred, who was grinning down at her with all the excitement of a House-elf given a new task. "Not so bad after all, is it?" he asked lightly, one large, steady hand holding at her waist while the other held hers in a sort of waltz position. The movement made her laugh as he began to ballroom dance with her to a rock song.
"It turned out to not be completely awful," she relented with a grin, and he beamed back like she'd told him she was giving him a thousand galleons. "Thanks, Freddie," she added, laughing loudly when he dipped her playfully, his strong hand splayed perfectly across the narrow small of her back.
He pulled her back up until they were both standing upright, and she quickly brought him in for a hug, winding her arms around his neck and pushing herself up onto her toes so she could properly embrace him. He held her back, and in his head the world went silent, as though someone had cut the music and everyone had stopped talking.
Then she pulled back and the moment was broken, she grinned up at him happily, utterly oblivious to the spark of pure affection in his crystal blue eyes.
A/N: There were mixed reactions to last chapter – something I fully understand. I knew the direction I was taking this story wouldn't be for everyone. For those of you still here with me, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you keep enjoying Winona's journey.
Reviewer of the week is AGCrays – thanks so much for reviewing, and for your kind words – they made me grin like a maniac. I hope you continue to stick with, and enjoy, this story.