A/N: Hey guys, just a quick warning for extreme explicit content at the end of this chapter. Obviously you signed up for this, knowing it's an M rated story, but I thought I'd warn you anyway. Hope you enjoy!
Angelina, Alicia and Katie's frostiness had begun to recede over the last few weeks in April. By the time May came, it was like nothing had ever happened at all.
The only sign of lingering tension was between Angelina and Fred, who were by unanimous silent agreement never under any circumstances to be left alone together. When they were put into situations together in the group, the tension was obvious, but they were both doing a brilliant job of pretending like nothing was wrong.
Winona's hope was that maybe if they kept pretending things were normal for long enough, it might just become true. One day soon things would be completely back to normal. She was sure of it.
Her and Fred were still keeping things between them quiet, although she was rather sure they weren't fooling anyone. As fun as it was to sneak around the castle together and snog each other to death behind tapestries, it was slowly beginning to grow old. But Winona couldn't see a way out of it. She was in too deep now, terrified of what their friends would think when they found out the truth.
So far, her plan was just to keep ignoring the problem in hopes it might magically disappear. She didn't have very much hope, but it was the best plan she could come up with. Avoidance was key.
She was sat in the common room one afternoon with Alicia, Angelina and the twins when a vision hit her. It was sudden, like being plunged into a lake of icy water. It was cold, and there was somebody muttering something under their breath, almost like a chant. Flashes of colour, red and green – stunning spells, or something worse? – and then a loud cry of agony.
She came out of it with a gasp to find Fred crouched in front of her. He was so close to her she could feel his breath on her face. "You're back?" he asked, seeming to realise immediately when her glassy gaze cleared.
"Yeah," she said hoarsely.
Fred nodded once and shifted back, making her realise he'd been shielding her from view. Three quarters of the common room seemed to be openly staring at her. Clearly this vision hadn't been quite as subtle as the others usually were.
"Show's over," snapped George, but it didn't do much to make the room's attention shift.
Winona turned away from her staring peers, eyeing the sketch in front of her. It was Mr Crouch, only he looked like a homeless person, all shabby and thin, and he had a terrified look on his face. She wasn't sure what it meant at all, but something in her chest was tugging her closer, closer towards the window in the corner of the common room.
"Win?" Fred asked as she stood to her feet as if in a daze, drifting ever closer to the window. She ignored him, peering through the glass to scan the grounds laid before her like a map. She couldn't see anything from this high up – whatever she was looking for, it was too far down – but her eyes fixed on a stretch of forest down near the Quidditch Pitch anyway.
"Go get Dumbledore," something deep inside of her seemed to whisper. Without stopping to analyse the source of the urge, she stuffed her sketchbook deep into her satchel and turned to her friends, all of whom were doing nothing to hide the way they were staring.
"I've gotta go," she told them in a hurry. "It's important. I'll be back."
And with that she turned to leave, but was stopped by Fred grabbing her hand and tugging her back to him. "Win," he said, worried. "Is someone in trouble?"
And what was the point in lying? "Yes," she told him bluntly, squeezing his hand once, twice, three times before letting go and making for the portrait hole.
"Winnie!" Ron's voice stopped her before she could reach it. She turned impatiently to see him and Hermione heading towards her, matching worry on their faces.
"Is it Harry?" Hermione asked in an anxious rush.
But that wasn't an answer she had right now. "Just stay in the common room," she ordered them sternly. "I'll be back soon."
They tried to call out after her, but nobody was stopping her again. She shoved through the small group of seventh years making their way through the portrait hole, all but leaping through the gap, landing on her knees on the other side. But Winona didn't care, she just jumped back up and booked it down the corridor in the direction of Dumbledore's office.
She was still doing her weekly Occlumency lessons with the Headmaster, as well as visiting him with every new vision. She was the only student always kept up-to-date on his office's password.
"Liquorice Snaps," she barked at the gargoyle, who leapt obediently out of the way, letting her take the stairs two at a time to the door. She banged on the thick wood, pounding her fist against it over and over until the Headmaster called for her to enter.
He'd been sat at his desk, but seemed to have stood at the sound of her urgency, hands braced on its ornate surface, just a hint of concern in his glittering blue eyes. "Miss Andrews?" he asked warily.
"Crouch," she wheezed, the sprint there having winded her. "It's Crouch. He's going to die."
Dumbledore's wariness sharpened into an almost supernatural calm. "Where?"
"Outside – I'll show you," she said quickly.
He was around the desk suddenly, moving much faster than she'd expected of someone his age. But there was no time to marvel. Winona just led him out of his office and back down his circular stairs. The pair were pulled to a sudden stop, however, of the unexpected sight that met them in the corridor beyond Dumbledore's gargoyle.
"Harry!" Winona exclaimed at the sight of him, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around his bicep, as if holding onto him might somehow keep him safe from danger.
"Winnie?" Harry seemed blindsided by the sight of her. His eyes darted to the other end of the hall, and Winona realised he wasn't alone. Snape stood there, sneering at the two of them like they were something he'd found on the bottom of his shoe.
"Is there a problem, Severus?" Dumbledore asked mildly.
But Harry leapt in before Snape could answer. "Professor!" he cried. "Mr Crouch is here – he's down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!"
Dumbledore's icy eyes cut to Winona, who shook her head once, answering his unspoken question. "Very well," he said calmly. "Lead the way."
Harry hurriedly began to lead them both away from Snape, making their way swiftly down the hall. "But, Winnie, what're you doing-?" Harry started to ask.
"Crouch is in danger," she told him. "I just saw it. He's going to die."
"Die?!" Harry echoed in horror.
But Dumbledore kept his cool. "What did Mr Crouch say, Harry?" he asked as Harry led the way down the marble staircase.
"Said he wants to warn you … said he's done something terrible … he mentioned his son … and Bertha Jorkins … and – and Voldemort … something about Voldemort getting stronger. …"
"Indeed," murmured Dumbledore. By now the sky outside was completely dark, the thick blanket of clouds making sure not even the glow of the moon could light their way. It was pitch black, and without thought Winona reached for Harry's hand, holding tightly both to help guide them and for her own, selfish comfort.
"He's not acting normally," Harry explained as they jogged across the damp grass. "He doesn't seem to know where he is. He keeps talking like he thinks Percy Weasley's there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you. I left him with Viktor Krum."
"You did?" asked Dumbledore sharply, speeding up until both Winona and Harry were sprinting just to keep up. Winona could tell Dumbledore wasn't happy knowing Krum was alone with Crouch – the question was, why? "Do you know if anybody else saw Mr Crouch?"
"No," said Harry. "Krum and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming out of the forest-"
"Where are they?" Dumbledore demanded as the Beauxbatons carriage emerged from the darkness.
"Over here," Harry assured him, plunging ahead through the dark. But there was nothing – Winona couldn't even hear anybody nearby. "Viktor?" Harry shouted, anxiety coating his voice. There was no answer, and Winona felt Harry grip her hand nearly to the point of pain as dread came over him. "They were here," Harry said to Dumbledore. "They were definitely somewhere around here."
The Headmaster lit his wand with a flick of his wrist, and the narrow beam scanned the edge of the forest until it landed on a pair of immobile feet.
Winona's heart leapt up into her throat, thinking for one terrible moment that she was about to see Crouch's corpse. But instead it was Krum, laid unconscious on the forest floor. Dumbledore bent down to check on the poor bloke.
"Stunned," he assured them, and Winona did nothing to hide her exhale of relief.
"Should I go and get someone?" Harry wondered anxiously. "Madam Pomfrey?"
"No," said Dumbledore, swift and stern. "Stay here, both of you."
Winona watched on in silence as Dumbledore sent a Patronus towards Hagrid's cabin. A silvery phoenix flew gracefully through the air, taking a message to Hagrid. Winona held Harry's hand tighter, feeling her throat go tight with panic. What were they in the middle of now?
Dumbledore leant over Krum and muttered the spell to revive him. Krum opened his eyes with a gasp, blinking up at the pitch-black night dazedly. He tried to sit up, but Dumbledore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"He attacked me!" Krum grunted, putting a hand up to his head, which Winona assumed would be aching like a bitch right about now. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"
Dumbledore didn't react. "Lie still for a moment," he ordered Krum sternly, and Krum fell obediently silent.
Hagrid reached them, Fang at his side and a large, threatening crossbow held in one massive hand. Winona stepped closer to Harry, both for her comfort and his protection. She was beginning to feel very much out of her depth.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid panted as he reached them. "Harry? Winona? What the-?"
"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody —"
"No need, Dumbledore," came a wheezy growl, and Winona held up her wand in self-defence. She hadn't even realised she'd grabbed it, but there it was, held in her hand, the familiar wood warm and comforting against her skin. "I'm here."
Moody limped towards them, wand lit out in front of him, and Winona's body went tense as a shiver ran down her spine like ice. Something wasn't right – how had Moody known to be there? And why was every bone in her body screaming at her to curse him and run in the opposite direction?
"Damn leg," Moody was muttering furiously. "Would've been here quicker … what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch-"
"Crouch?" asked Hagrid blankly.
"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" Dumbledore ordered him sharply.
"Oh yeah … right y'are, Professor…" said Hagrid, hurrying off to complete his task. Winona watched him go, feeling rather like their best defence was leaving them. Dumbledore wouldn't let anything happen to them, she knew that, but she'd never describe the feeling he gave her as safe. And, well, she trusted Moody about as far as she could throw him.
"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore was telling Moody in an undertone, "but it is essential that we find him."
"I'm onto it," growled Moody, but Winona didn't miss the way his magical eye was zeroed in on her. It made her feel dirty and she shuddered again, glaring at him defensively. He said nothing more as he limped his way back into the dark of the forest, the shadows swallowing him whole.
They heard Hagrid's heavy footsteps before they saw him, and soon he was bounding into sight, Fang and Karkaroff close on his heels. Winona held her wand tighter, keeping it held in front of her, ready to shoot off a curse and make a run for it at a moment's notice.
"What is this?" Karkaroff demanded hotly when he saw Krum on the ground in front of them all. "What's going on?"
"I vos attacked!" said Krum, sitting up now and rubbing his head. "Mr. Crouch or votever his name —"
"Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"
"Igor," Dumbledore began patiently, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid. The impish voice in Winona's head that sounded a hell of a lot like Fred wondered distantly who would win in a fight between the two of them, and she chastised herself for getting distracted.
"Treachery!" Karkaroff bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore. He began to wail and moan all about the unfairness of the situation and how this was all a plot Dumbledore had cooked up in an effort to claim the Triwizard victory for himself. Winona turned to Harry, finding him to look similarly astonished, and it was comforting to know she wasn't the only one in a state of absolute shock.
Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet and in one swift movement Hagrid had seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air and slammed him against a nearby tree. Winona's eyes went wide in shock, and Harry's grip on her hand tightened.
"Apologise!" Hagrid snarled in Karkaroff's face, massive fist wrapped around the man's slim throat. Winona wondered if she was about to watch Hagrid kill someone, but thankfully Dumbledore stepped in before it came to that. With a stern shout from him, Hagrid violently let go of Karkaroff, who fell to the ground and spluttered for air.
"Kindly escort Harry and Winona back up to the castle, Hagrid," Dumbledore ordered him sharply.
Hagrid tried to argue – and Winona couldn't blame him, seeing the hateful way Karkaroff was glaring up at their Headmaster – but Dumbledore wouldn't hear a word of it.
"You will take them back to school, Hagrid," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Take them right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry, Winona – I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do – any owls you might want to send – they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"
Winona realised with a spark of electricity in her veins that he was referring to Sirius. How did he know, she wondered? And what did that mean for Sirius' safety?
"Er – yes," said Harry, staring up at Dumbledore, just as dazed as if he'd been the one stunned.
"I'll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster," Hagrid offered, staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still huddled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree roots, rage on his ugly, sneering face. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, Harry. You too, Winona."
But Winona didn't move, staring at Dumbledore with hard eyes. "Are you sure you won't need-?" she began to ask, but he shook his head sternly. "But Crouch-"
"Go, Winona."
And so she did. Still holding onto Harry's hand like they were a pair of toddlers crossing the road, she let Hagrid lead them away. He ranted all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, growling about the foreigners and their wicked ways. He was in an all-around foul mood. Harry attempted conversation but eventually realised it was pointless.
They were glad to make their escape through the portrait hole, clamouring inside. It was late enough now that most of the usual traffic had disappeared from the common room. Instead there was just a smattering of fifth years cramming for OWLs, some first years on a sugar high from dinner, and Harry and Winona's closest friends sat at the table near the fire.
Fred, George, Hermione and Ron looked up as they entered, relief on their faces. Winona realised she was still holding Harry's hand – the action having been a complete afterthought for the both of them – and used it to pull him to a stop before he could make for their friends.
"You okay?" she asked him carefully.
Harry just nodded his head, but there was curiosity in his eyes. "You said Crouch was going to die," he said quietly. Winona was aware of her friends staring at them, but she ignored them in favour of watching Harry. "Do you know who's going to do it?"
Winona grimaced apologetically, and Harry knew the answer. "I tried, but all I got was that Crouch-"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. She didn't need to say it out loud again.
"I'd better let the twins in on what happened before they explode," she said quietly.
"First thing in the morning, I'm going to write to Sirius. Wanna come to the owlery with me?"
"Yeah, we'll go early. Meet you down here at daybreak?"
Harry agreed, and with that they made their way back over to the closest of their friends. The four of them were talking over themselves in a rush to get answers from the two of them. The cousins caught one another's eyes and nodded in agreement, Winona moving to grab the twins' hands and dragging them up to their dorm with a vague goodnight to Ron and Hermione over her shoulder.
"Well?" Fred was asking impatiently as she shoved her way into the boys' dorm.
Winona scanned the room. "Where's Lee?" she asked, not seeing their dreadlocked friend anywhere in sight. She loved the guy, but he wasn't at the level of friendship that included this kind of conversation.
"Snuck out to snog that Ravenclaw girl he's been seeing," George said, locking the door behind him and kicking off his shoes before collapsing onto his bed. Fred and Winona did the same, moving onto Fred's bed, sitting with their sides pressed together. "So go on," George prompted her. "What in the name of Merlin's saggy left nut was that all about?"
And so Winona recounted the night's activities to the both of them, telling them about how she'd had the vision of Crouch dying, then finding Dumbledore and then Harry, and Krum and Karkaroff and Hagrid's bad mood. It was exhausting, but she knew they wanted to whole story. Once she was finished the twins were frowning deeply.
"That's highly suspicious," said Fred from where he was toying idly with her hand, tracing nonsense shapes into her skin to keep himself occupied. "Any ideas who would want Crouch dead?"
"We don't know he's dead for sure," Winona argued.
The twins exchanged a glance. "Well, you haven't been wrong yet, love," said Fred amicably.
"Sure I have," she argued. "Plenty of times." They remained unconvinced, and she had to reevaluate. "Well, a couple of times. Okay, well, once or twice, at least. Right?" The twins said nothing, but they didn't have to. Winona sighed, slumping against Fred and shutting her eyes against this bullshit night. "I hate being a Seer."
Fred ran his hand down the length of her silvery hair. "You can't save everyone," he reminded her gently. "And maybe you aren't meant to," he added. "Seems to me like you were there for Harry more than anything else."
She sat back so she could look up at his face. "How d'you mean?"
"Well, if you hadn't been there, he would've been alone," Fred told her. "It's a good thing you were with him, so he wasn't so afraid."
"Harry's a big boy, he can handle himself," she said distantly, not so sure he didn't have a point. Maybe the sake of her vision hadn't been to save Crouch – because he was right, some people there was just no hope of saving – maybe the sake of her vision had been to get her down there with Harry, so he wasn't alone.
If that was the case, she liked her visions now just a little bit more than she had before.
"Ah – but he's still just a boy," said Fred matter-of-factly.
Winona smirked up at him. "As opposed to you, a man," she teased.
Fred playfully puffed out his chest. "Well, if you say so."
"Ugh," George made a sound of deep disgust, flopping back onto his bed and turning his face into the closest pillow. "You two are disgusting."
"At least we don't clean our ears out with forks, mate," said Winona without missing a beat.
George lifted his head from his pillow long enough to glare at her. "That was one time, and I had an itch."
Winona just laughed, collapsing back onto Fred's bed and just letting herself breathe. The hectic part of the night was over, and now all she wanted was to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"I'd better get back to my dorm," she murmured.
"No," Fred argued, throwing an arm over her middle and pulling her into his side. "Stay."
"I've stayed the last two nights, Fred," she rolled her eyes. "The girls are starting to suspect."
He made an adorable, scrunchy face. "Let them suspect."
Winona sighed, ducking in to press her lips briefly against his before pulling back and smiling. "I'm going," she said sternly. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Kay," he reluctantly agreed. "Night, love."
Her heart felt full as she made her way back to the dorm. The girls were still awake, Angelina flipping through the newest edition of Witch Weekly, while Hope and Alicia were painting one another's nails.
"There you are," said Alicia when she padded in barefoot, her shoes held in one hand. "Want me to give you a coat?" she asked, holding up a bottle of magenta polish.
"Nah, I'm right," Winona told her. "Just tired. Gonna have a shower then pass out."
"Suit yourself," said Alicia, already distracted by something Angelina had spotted in her magazine. Winona escaped for a shower, letting the hot spray wash away the awfulness of her evening.
Winona woke just before sunrise, dressing in jeans and an old teeshirt. Pulling on the jumper Mrs Weasley had made her for Christmas and shoving her feet into some shoes, Winona crept from the dorm where her friends were all still sleeping, finding Harry and Ron stood by the fire in the common room, warming their hands at the hearth.
"Just waiting on Hermione," Ron explained around a yawn. Harry, on the other hand, didn't look anywhere near as tired. Winona figured the excitement of it all was serving as fuel. She hoped he got some decent rest before all that fuel burned out.
"Here," said Harry, pulling the note for Sirius out of his pocket. "Wanna add anything?"
Winona took the note to read.
Snuffles,
Ran into Mr Crouch last night. He looked like he hadn't bathed in a month and he was talking absolute nonsense. I think something was seriously wrong. He mentioned something about Bertha – seemed to think she was dead – and said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. It was really weird. I went to get Dumbledore and found Winnie already there. She'd had a vision, said she saw Crouch getting killed! By the time we all got down to the forest where I'd left Crouch, he was gone and Krum – who I'd left watching him – had been stunned.
Nobody knows where Crouch is now, but I thought I'd let you know, see what you thought. I think Crouch knows something important, and I think whatever he wanted to warn Dumbledore about was serious.
Hope to see you soon; did you need any more food?
-Harry
Winona took out a quill from her bag and added a postscript in her own handwriting.
Yes, I saw Crouch die. Yes, it's going to happen, or perhaps already has. No, I don't know who kills him. I just know it's bad. Please stay safe.
-Winnie
Hermione came tiptoeing down the stairs just as the sun broke out from behind the distant mountains, shining its golden light down on the castle and its grounds. As they walked down to the owlery, Ron and Hermione threw out theories about what might have happened in the time Harry had been away fetching Dumbledore. Harry wasn't listening, lagging behind with Winona.
"How'd you sleep?" she asked him quietly as they walked.
"We stayed up most of the night talking about Mr. Crouch and what it could have all meant," he confessed. "Then once we actually went to bed, I couldn't stop thinking long enough to fall asleep."
"Yeah," she nodded. "I was the same."
"What'd the twins think?"
"Fred's theory was that I only had the vision so I could be there to support you," she told him. "It makes sense, considering I didn't get it in time to do anything but show up and hold your hand."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Do you really think being there to support me is a good enough reason to get a vision?"
Winona rolled her eyes. "It's not like I get to pick and choose."
"Where do you think they come from?" he wondered. "The visions?"
"I dunno. I call it the Powers That Be, or sometimes the aether. But whatever it may be, I'm just glad it knows where my priorities lie," she said, bumping him companionably with her shoulder. Harry smiled, genuine if not a little distant. She understood, the kid had a lot on his mind.
They reached the owlery and Winona fetched a small, tawny barn owl with great big eyes and a nippy beak. Harry cautiously attached the note, and the four of them watched as the owl took off into the sky, carrying their letter to Sirius across the bounds of Hogwarts and out to the mountains beyond.
"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione with maddening patience. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"
Harry once more relayed everything Crouch had muttered during their brief, oddly timed meeting. Winona listened halfheartedly, leaning her weight against the wall and watching the oncoming day with a blank expression.
"Shh," Hermione hushed the boys abruptly, and Winona realised it was because there were people coming up the stairs towards them. Whoever they were, they were talking loudly, clearly thinking nobody was around to hear, and Winona recognised the voices in an instant.
"-that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"
"-we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did-"
"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"
"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"
The owlery door banged open to reveal Fred and George, both pink cheeked from the walk up the stairs. They froze at the sight of them all standing there, and the pinkness abruptly drained from Fred's face as he caught Winona's eyes, going pale in an instant.
"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred asked at the exact same time.
"Sending a letter," answered Harry and George in unison.
"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.
Were this not the most suspicious she'd ever been, Winona might have laughed at how ridiculous it all was. But as it was, the twins were very obviously keeping something big from her – something involving blackmail, apparently – and she felt an indignant hurt beginning to burn deep in her chest.
George held up his hands as if in surrender. "Fine – we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us."
Fred was holding a sealed envelope in his hands, but when Winona tried to glance at the name on the front, he deliberately shifted it out of the way so she couldn't see. The hurt began to build into a fire of ire, and she crossed her arms over her chest, face closing off entirely. Fred winced, knowing nothing good would follow.
"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said anyway, making a mock bow and pointing at the door, trying to regain some of his cool. But the way his eyes kept shifting to Winona was telling, and she didn't let up her glare, features sharpened into a dangerous scowl.
None of them moved, stuck in some inexplicable face-off. "Who're you blackmailing?" Ron demanded, taking the words right from Winona's mouth.
"Funny," she said with a calm that masked a storm of rage. "I was just wondering the exact same thing."
Ron's jaw dropped open. "You mean you don't even know?" he asked, sounding almost scandalised, like the thought of the twins keeping something from Winona went against everything he thought he'd known about the universe.
The fake-lively smile on Fred's face dropped away, and George glanced between them all uneasily. "Don't be stupid," George said with the kind of ease that came from years upon years of straight-faced lying, "I was only joking."
Nobody was convinced. "Didn't sound like that," argued Ron.
The twins stared at each other a moment, communicating silently. Then Fred turned to his brother with a frown, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but-"
"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," said Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."
"Told you, I was joking," George rolled his eyes like Ron was acting childishly. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."
Ron spluttered like he'd just been ruthlessly insulted. "No, I won't!"
Winona was paying them no attention, her eyes fixed on only Fred. He was staring back at her stubbornly, but he couldn't mask the unease from his eyes – she knew him far too well. George sent the barn owl off to deliver their letter, but Winona didn't look away from her boyfriend.
"Well, stop telling people what to do then," George told Ron cheerfully.
Silence befell them, ringing in the owlery like a gunshot. The tension between Winona and Fred was reaching unbearable levels, and the others all glanced between one another unsurely.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" she finally asked Fred, voice hard as diamond, and just as pretty.
"Like what?" Fred asked coyly.
It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew he knew so by the way he winced once it was out of his mouth. She arched a single brow at him, the rage simmering under her skin was changing, turning into something she desperately didn't want to be hurt. But she couldn't help it, it was there. He'd hurt her.
Whatever this was, she knew it was the same thing they'd been keeping from her ever since the start of first term. She'd forgotten all about it once Fred and her had gotten together. That's what love does, she supposed. It made you forget the bad, especially when you really shouldn't.
"I see," she said, perfectly dispassionate. It was hardly the cussing out she wanted to give them, but it made Fred flinch all the same. She turned her head to look at Harry and his friends, all of whom looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I'll see you later, kids," she told them, not even bothering to tack on a smile.
With a flip of her moonshine hair she left the owlery, not so much as glancing in the twins' direction.
She heard the sound of someone getting hit, then a deep voice cursing, before Fred was calling her name and rushing after her. She ignored him, arms crossed over her chest as she marched her way down the stairs, intent on heading for breakfast to gather a hoard of food before she spent the morning sketching in some dark corner where the twins – hopefully – wouldn't be able to find her.
But Fred was determined, jogging to meet her pace, gripping her arm to try and stop her. She ignored him, shrugging off his hand and stomping onwards.
"Win – come on," he said. She didn't so much as glance his way, too furious to even look at him. "Win," he tried again. They reached flat ground and he took the opportunity to grip her elbow, spinning her around to face him.
"Unless you're going to tell me whatever it is you've been keeping from me, I have nothing to say to you," she told him coldly.
He lifted a hand to his shaggy red hair. "Win, you just – you wouldn't understand."
The rage in Winona's chest went silent, but not in a good way. "Excuse me?"
George, who had very reluctantly followed after them, stopped a few feet away and winced in sympathy for his pathetic brother. Fred also seemed to realise just how wrong of a thing that was to say, face twisting in a grimace.
"Shit, no," he said quickly, "I just meant-"
"I don't really care what you meant, Fred," she snapped, voice sharp like the tip of a dagger. Fred flinched at the sound of it. "Tell me the truth, right now," she said, an olive branch.
He could be honest with her now and she'd let it all go. But Fred didn't jump at the chance like she'd thought he would. Instead he glanced uneasily to George, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"If I have to get the answer out of your brother instead of you, Fred, I swear to Merlin…" she warned him.
"It's – it's complicated," he insisted, panic in his eyes. It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him. Almost.
"Then I'm done talking to you," she snapped, spinning on her heel. She left Fred stood in the hallway, staring after her, George glowering at him in irritation and Winona not so much as glancing back.
Winona went about the school day as normal. She had Charms that morning, and for the first time in a long time – possibly ever – she sat on the opposite side of the room to Fred. Hope looked perplexed by her decision to sit beside her for once, but she didn't argue, just helped a distant Winona go over the theory on the board.
After double Charms was lunch, and Winona sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione rather than her usual group. Her friends were all staring after her in confusion, and she felt Fred's stare like a laser on the back of her head, but she ignored it all, eating her sandwich and halfheartedly listening to Ron moan about his Transfiguration essay.
"Winnie?" Harry asked tentatively, and Winona realised somebody had asked her something, but she'd been too distracted to notice.
"Huh?"
Hermione gave a sympathetic click of her tongue. "This Fred thing really has you rattled, doesn't it?" she asked quietly. Harry and Ron were all too eager to engage one another in a lively discussion about the History of Magic class they'd just had.
Winona leaned across the table, dropping down her walls for once. Because if she didn't talk to someone about this, she might very well just start screaming right there in the middle of the Great Hall.
"We don't keep secrets," she said, voice low so some nearby second-years wouldn't overhear. "We never have."
Hermione looked doubtful. "Never?"
And Winona had to reconsider. "Well, there have been one or two over the years," she admitted. "But recently … I mean, they've all been out in the open. I have no more secrets, but they have this one from me. It isn't fair," she paused, chewing on her bottom lip. "I know that sounds childish, but it's true. It isn't fair."
Hermione considered her carefully. "Have you tried telling him that?"
"Ugh, I don't even want to look at him right now," Winona said darkly, "much less speak to him."
The younger student looked back at her with pity. "You'll feel better once you talk about it," she promised.
And Winona absolutely knew she was right, but wasn't she entitled to at least a little bit of sulking? She was hurt, the pain simmering under her skin like soup put to boil. Winona's darkest secret, the dirtiest of her laundry – Jeremiah Nott – had been aired for the twins to see completely. But when the roles were reversed, they didn't have the courage – the decency – to do the same?
It was rude, and callous, and thoughtless, and above all, it was selfish. She was offended. Did they think she'd see them differently? Did they think she couldn't handle whatever it was? Because surely they knew her better than that.
Glancing inconspicuously up the table, Winona saw George being his usual self – making shapes out of the crusts of the sandwiches and using his wand to make them float in the air like balloons at a parade – but Fred was sat with his chin resting on his fist, eyes distant and unseeing. Good; Winona hoped he was suffering.
She remembered all the times she'd caught them talking – it was clear by now that this was all on Fred. Whatever it was they were keeping from her, George had wanted to tell her. She remembered hearing him trying to convince Fred to tell her more than once. But Fred had argued against it every time. This was entirely Fred's doing.
Walking to her Care of Magical Creatures class that afternoon, Winona kicked at loose pebbles on the path, her insides a storm of indecision.
What did this mean for her and Fred's relationship? She didn't want to break up with him, but if he couldn't be honest with her, what was the point in staying together? If he didn't come clean, would she be able to get past this? Something told her she wouldn't.
By the time she reached Hagrid's Hut for Care of Magical Creatures, most of the class was already there. George had dropped the elective after OWLs, so it was only Fred and Lee in the class with her. Fred was staring at her from across Hagrid's lawn, but Winona ignored him, facing Hagrid and listening to his talk on Acromantulas as though it were the most fascinating thing she'd ever heard.
Some of the girls in the class squealed when Hagrid pulled a handful of spiders from his pocket like someone might take out a small pile of Galleons. Winona rolled her eyes and picked one of the spiders up, halfheartedly listening to the rest of Hagrid's lecture and demonstration.
Finally the class was over, and Hagrid assigned them an essay on Acromantulas before dismissing them. Winona wasted no time in shouldering her satchel and heading back up towards the castle.
She was disappointed – but certainly not surprised – when a hand caught her elbow halfway there and tugged her off the main path.
"Fred," she huffed in exasperation as he began to pull her towards a nearby courtyard. Thankfully it was empty of students, and the moment Fred slowed to a stop she tore her arm out of his grip. Fred whirled around on her, a wild look in his eyes.
"I need to talk to you."
"You can't just kidnap me because I suddenly won't give you the time of day," she scolded him, but it was water off a duck's back for all the good it did.
"How else am I supposed to get you to talk to me?"
Winona scowled. "And on that note-" she said, turning abruptly away, stalking in the direction of the Great Hall. Fred cursed from behind her, jogging to keep up, leaping out in front of her to keep her from leaving. "Really, Fred," she huffed. "Now you're being childish."
"You have to talk to me," he said, refusing to give. "I won't let you leave without hearing me out."
"Unless you're going to come clean along with a hell of a good reason as to why you lied at all, then there's nothing to talk about."
Fred pressed his lips into a hard line and turned away, seeming to take a moment to centre himself. Winona watched him, teeth grinding with frustration. "Okay," Fred finally said, tugging absentmindedly at his red hair as he looked back at her, blue eyes cloudy with regret. "I fucked up."
She didn't really feel like listening to him, even if he was going to explain. But he deserved a chance to say his piece – and okay, maybe a part of her didn't want a reason to be angry with him anymore. So, despite the urge to punch him in the stomach and run, Winona reluctantly stayed where she was, arms crossed over her chest, and listened.
"Um, I don't know where to even begin," Fred said helplessly.
"Well, I suggest you figure it out quickly," she replied. Fred winced at the ice in her tone.
"Okay, so, you know the Quidditch World Cup? When George and I bet all our savings on your prediction?"
She wasn't sure what his plan was, bringing up the one other thing that had made her utterly furious with him in recent memory, but he seemed to be gaining momentum, so she didn't bother stopping him.
"Well, when Bagman paid us our winnings…he did it in Leprechaun gold," Fred confessed. "It was gone by the next morning."
Winona said nothing, staring at him appraisingly, waiting for more. Fred's throat dipped as he swallowed.
"We've been trying to make him pay us what he owes us all year, but it's been near impossible to get him alone. The thing with the note we were sending him this morning – it was a last-ditch effort to get our gold back."
She still didn't speak, inscrutable as she stared at him, arms crossed, finger tapping an uneven beat against her elbow. She reminded herself of McGonagall when she was cross – which was probably why Fred looked about as white as a sheet, staring into her hard face.
"I didn't want to tell you because – well, you were already so cross with us for betting in the first place, I knew you'd be ropable when you found out we'd lost every last Galleon. I was…scared," he confessed, mouth twisting like the words tasted foul on his tongue.
She understood – it was a cold day in hell when a Weasley twin admitted to being afraid. She still didn't speak and Fred swallowed again, looking vulnerable under her diamond-hard stare.
"I should have told you from the beginning – George wanted me to – but I just…I guess I was also kind of embarrassed," he told her slowly. "That was all of our savings – everything we were putting away for the shop. And now it's gone, and I'm even poorer than I was before this whole mess. I don't have so much as a Sickle to my name."
And Winona's ire vanished into thin air. She just stared at Fred, the anger gone from her eyes. He stared back, uncomfortably vulnerable, like his insides were laid out bare before her. She carefully considered what to say, her restlessly tapping finger slowing to a stop.
"Do you really think I'm so shallow?" she finally asked, voice still edged with steel; because barriers, once put up, were rather difficult to take back down.
Fred's eyes went wide. "No, of course not."
"Then why do you think I'd care about the money?" she demanded. "Fred, up until last year, I was an orphan. I live on a small pity-pension from the Ministry, and most of my clothes come from secondhand stores I find in the city. And even besides all that, I know you. I know your entire family. I've been to your bloody house. I know everything about how you live, and how your family does it tough – so, why should that all of a sudden mean a so much as a damn thing to me?"
It came out of her in rather an explosive fashion. Fred stared at her, taken aback, and she was just as stunned. But she couldn't help it – he'd offended her by thinking she could do anything less than accept him and love him exactly as he was, and always had been.
The clouded wariness in Fred's eyes began to clear, giving way to regret. "I should've told you," he said quietly, apologetic.
"Yes," she agreed. "You should have."
Fred reached up to tug at a lock of his shaggy hair. "I'm sorry."
And Winona really, really didn't want to fight with him anymore. She was done being resentful and hurt. She saw, now, why he'd kept it from her. And even though his reasoning was stupid and flawed, she understood. And that was enough for her.
"Okay," she said softly, the word nearly lost in the gust of wind that billowed through the otherwise empty courtyard. "All right," she tried again. "I forgive you."
Fred raised his head, hope igniting in his cornflower eyes. "Yeah?"
Winona smiled, a little bit tired, but mostly genuine. "Yeah."
He slowly, inch by inch, closed the chasm of space between them. His hands tentatively reached for hers, and she let him thread their fingers together, feeling a rush of relief she wouldn't admit to be touching him again.
"Good," Fred sighed, seeming just as relieved. "I really don't like it when you're cross with me."
Winona smiled, using their intertwined hands to tug him closer. "No more secrets," she said, staring up into his eyes, hopeful. Because if that wasn't something he could promise her, then she wasn't sure they could keep doing this. She didn't voice it aloud, but she thought maybe he knew, could see it in her eyes. "Promise?"
Fred was quick to agree. "No more secrets," he vowed, then bent his head and sealed it with a kiss.
The next morning, Winona looked up from her eggs when she heard Harry calling her name from further down the table. "I'll be back," she told Alicia and Angelina, who were complaining about the shitty grade Snape had given their recent Potions essays.
Harry was holding a hastily written letter in familiar loopy handwriting, and Winona shoved Ron aside so she could settle into place beside her cousin to read Sirius' note.
Most of the note was Sirius admonishing Harry for loitering out in the dark with Viktor Krum (You could have been killed, he wrote furiously, I want you to swear by return owl that you won't stray out of bounds again!)
At the bottom of his rant to Harry was a Postscript for her, and she took the letter from her cousin's hands to read it more closely.
And Winona, don't tell anyone except the people you trust most what you've seen; and even then, exercise extreme caution. I'm safe as I can be – please, for me, keep yourself safe too.
It was a shocking reminder of the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew, one of Sirius' closest friends back before Voldemort rose to power. Winona stared down at the warning, trying to imagine what it must have been like to have somebody he'd thought of as a brother betray him like that.
It was almost unthinkable.
She handed the letter back to Harry, who was already frustratedly complaining about Sirius' order to stay out of trouble.
"He has a point, Harry," Winona told him sternly. "The last thing you need is to get abducted and tortured by those Death Eaters from the World Cup. Besides, with what happened to Krum and Crouch, I'd think you'd wanna be more careful than usual."
Harry scowled but otherwise didn't argue. She knew he was just frustrated – and it was a little rich, being told to be careful by somebody who was such a trouble magnet he was locked away in Azkaban for twelve years. But Winona agreed with Sirius – Harry needed to stay out of sight.
There was, however, one instruction his Godfather had given him that Harry was eager to follow.
Practise stunning and disarming. A few hexes won't go astray either.
"You've got to know plenty of defence techniques," said Hermione a few nights later, the three fourth years plopping down beside her on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. "Harry could use all the help he can get."
Harry frowned sourly, but he went ignored.
"Do you think you could meet us at lunch tomorrow in the empty Charms classroom?" Hermione asked impatiently.
"I don't know what good you think I'll be," Winona said.
"Well, didn't you get an O in Defence last year?" Ron asked.
"Uh, no," she corrected him. "I got an E."
"Still," argued Hermione. "You're nearly finished sixth year. You'll know plenty more than us."
Nobody had ever asked her to tutor them before, so Winona was understandably taken aback. "Well, I mean, I'm no expert…"
"Lunch, in the Charms classroom," said Hermione forcefully. "We'll see you there."
With that she stood to her feet, taking Ron with her. Harry lingered behind, shooting her an apologetic grimace. "Thanks for this, Winnie," he said gratefully. "If I have to be stuck indoors, at least I can get some practise in."
And her indecision melted. Of course she was going to help him – she doubted there was much he could ask for that she wouldn't give. "No problem, Boy-Wonder," she told him with an easy smile.
Harry followed after his friends, disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors. It was Lee's birthday, and the twins had thrown one of their typical parties, complete with a table of scrumptious food straight from the kitchens and a wireless in the corner playing the latest Weird Sisters album.
Fred and George appeared, three butterbeers between them. Winona took the third from a grinning Fred, rolling her eyes as he clinked their bottles together ceremoniously.
"What'd the Golden Trio want?" Fred asked as he collapsed into the spot Harry had just vacated. George propped himself up on the armrest, smirking into his butterbeer.
"Tutoring," she told them.
"Tutoring?" George parroted. "What, from you?"
Winona glared. "Thanks, George," she said dryly, her annoyance thick. George just raised his bottle in playful salute. "Snuffles wants him to practise some defence techniques. Hermione just coerced me into helping."
"You do shoot a mean hex," Fred told her encouragingly.
And he was right. She might not have been a stand out student in her DADA class, but when it came to painful, wicked hexes – well, she kind of took the biscuit. Winona leaned into her boyfriend's side, a smile playing at her mouth.
"George!" came Katie's voice, and the three turned to see their younger friend stumbling towards them, a glazed look in her eyes that made Winona wonder just how many butterbeers into the night she was. "I love this song! You have to come dance with me!"
George grinned, taking a large gulp of butterbeer as if for courage before depositing his bottle onto the coffee table and leaping eagerly to his feet. He met Katie in the middle, and Winona laughed as she tripped into him, the pair beginning to twirl uncoordinatedly about the common room.
"Wanna dance?" Fred whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear, and Winona's stomach twisted in on itself like the best kind of Devil's Snare.
And there were plenty of reasons why she should say no; the fact that it wasn't public knowledge they were together, just to start. But Winona was getting tired of acting one way in public, then sneaking around and acting differently in private. She'd done enough of that in her time with Jeremiah, and it was getting old, fast.
Fred hadn't pushed, not even a little, which had surprised her. But he'd been wonderfully patient, and guilt was beginning to prickle under her skin. There were two of them in this relationship. She had to consider what he wanted, too. And she knew he wanted to come out with the truth to their friends.
So Winona put down her butterbeer and took his hand. "Absolutely," she told him, pulling him to his feet. He blinked in shock, having fully expected her to say no. Then he grinned, wide and bright and enough to make her heart skip a beat, and she led him into the middle of the crowd of partying Gryffindors and began to dance.
He wasn't the best dancer in the world, more clumsy than anything else, too lanky to be considered graceful. But to Winona it was perfect, she laughed as he twirled and twirled her under his arm, spinning her until she was dizzy, then just a little bit more.
They stopped for more butterbeer to find Lee eagerly handing out shots of the firewhisky he'd smuggled into the school to some of the older students.
She raised her eyebrow when Fred took two of the shots from him, handing one off to her with a wicked grin. "We're adults, now," he reminded her, and she certainly couldn't fault his logic. She took it from him with a laugh, tossing back the shot like a pro. It burned the whole way down, but in a good way, leaving Winona with an echoing kind of buzz that was instant in the way Muggle alcohol wasn't.
They both took one more shot – easily ignoring Hermione's disapproving glower from where she sat doing homework in the corner – before linking hands and winding their way back into the centre of the room where most of their House was still dancing.
People grew indistinct, and Winona felt time become fluid, but not in the way it did when she fell into a vision. Rather it was like time was passing differently, somehow both slower and faster at the same time. And it wasn't altogether unpleasant.
She wasn't sure who was tugging at who, but soon enough she and Fred had made it through the throng of students to the foot of the boys' staircase. His pupils were blown and he had a lazy grin on his lips, and her instinct was to kiss them to see how it tasted.
He seemed to sense that what was going to follow wasn't for anybody else's eyes, and Fred's lazy grin turned wicked as he gripped her hand, tugging her quickly and quietly up the stairs. They giggled together as they slipped through the door to his room, and Winona did a quick scan of the beds.
George and Lee were still downstairs, the dorm blessedly empty. Pleased, Winona turned and leapt onto Fred. He grunted under her attack, but caught her all the same, laughing as she wrapped her arms and legs around his body, clinging to him like a tree frog.
"Alone at last," she hummed gleefully.
"Somebody seems eager," Fred laughed.
"Firewhisky agrees with me," was her only explanation as she pushed herself higher up his body and pressed her lips against his. He chuckled against her lips but just as quickly fell silent, hands falling to her backside to hold her up – an action to which she certainly wasn't complaining.
He walked towards his bed, but with his eyes shut to kiss her he misjudged the distance and hit the edge of his bed frame with a cracking sound as his shin collided with the wood. He pulled back to exclaim in pain, dropping Winona onto his bed as a reflex. She hit the mattress with a bounce, holding her hands to her stomach as she laughed.
"Oh, shut up," said Fred, hopping up and down on one foot, hands holding his bruised shin.
She just kept laughing, a feeling lighter than air in her blood, making her feel like she might just float away with the force of it. Fred chuckled too, ignoring his leg in favour of hopping onto the bed with her, crawling up her body and grinning down at her while she giggled like a little kid on a sugar high.
Fred continued to stare, grinning like an idiot, and her laughter slowed under his gaze. "What?" she giggled, her fingertips toying with the hem of his long-sleeved shirt, dancing across the sliver of skin exposed there.
"You just look really cute when you laugh," he said it like it were a simple truth of the universe.
Winona smiled, aware that happiness was sparkling in her eyes, but not caring enough to try and act cooler. She lifted her leg to curl it around his waist, gripping hold of his collar and pulling him towards her as he settled into the angle made by her open thighs.
"Would you shut up and kiss me?" she said, nearly desperate with the need to have his lips on hers. Fred beamed before swooping down to kiss her thoroughly.
For an indeterminable amount of time they stayed wrapped up in one another, groping and kissing languidly, Fred hovering over her deliciously, careful not to crush her with his weight. But eventually even that grew boring, and Winona wanted more.
By unspoken agreement, they'd been waiting before taking their relationship to the next level. For Winona, it was about crossing an invisible line. Spending nights snogging in shadowed corners of the castle was all well and good, but sex? Sex complicated things.
Winona didn't want any complications. But she wanted Fred enough that the complications were a price she was willing to pay.
She took the first step, tugging at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his torso. It got tangled around his shoulders and Fred snorted in amusement at her stubborn determination to get it over his head. He sat up to help her, tossing the shirt onto the floor and hovering back over her, trailing his lips over the length of her collarbone as her hands wandered his back.
He was broad and strong from his years playing as Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and as her fingertips danced down to his arms, Winona did nothing to hold in the way her breath hitched.
"Feel something you like?" Fred asked playfully, words muffled in the hollow of her throat.
"I have a thing for arms," she confessed without so much as a hint of inhibition. This was Fred, the person she felt most comfortable with in the whole world. If she couldn't admit to him what turned her on, then what was the point?
"Arms in general, or mine specifically?" he wondered in between nibbles at her pulse point.
"Yours specifically," she told him breathlessly. "They do something to me."
Fred pulled back from her neck, eyes dancing with a mixture of lust and amusement as he stared down at her. "And what is it they do, exactly?"
Now it was her turn to grin impishly. "You're about to find out," she promised him, then in one smooth move flipped them over. Fred let out a very un-manly yelp as he was rolled onto his back, blinking up at her in a daze as she settled into place over his hips and reached for the top button of her old flannel, undoing it with a flick of her fingers.
Fred's pupils were blown wide, hands holding the jut of her hips, fingertips pressing into her skin hard enough that they would probably leave small bruises, but Winona didn't care. The flannel fell from her shoulders, exposing the white bra she was wearing underneath. Fred's eyes trailed down over her body, soaking her in like a sunflower devoured the sunlight.
Winona grinned once more, like the happiness literally wouldn't allow itself to remain hidden. She leant back down over him, her blonde hair falling on either side of his face, a curtain blocking out the rest of the world. Winona thought to herself that she would have stayed in this little piece of reality with him for the rest of her life, should she get the chance.
She kissed him again, and it was different to all the kisses they'd shared in the past. Somehow deeper; weightier. She felt all of him – the burning heat of his bare skin on hers, the hard line of him straining in his trousers, pressing against her. Her breath hitched again as he rocked into her with a small groan, and she pulled away from him to take a necessary gulp of air.
"We should, uh, probably slow down," Fred muttered dazedly, highly unconvincing to her ears.
Winona cocked her head to the side. "Why?"
Fred blinked. "I don't have a good answer."
"Well then, how about we don't?"
"Yeah," he agreed, just as breathless as her. "Sounds good to me."
She laughed into their next kiss, the sound turning into a yip of surprise when he flipped them over again, pressing her hard into the mattress, mouth travelling along the column of her throat and down over the generous cleavage exposed by her bra. Somewhere in the back of her head, Winona thanked the stars she was wearing her cutest one, but the thought was banished when Fred took a section of her firm breast and bit down.
Winona let out a mewling sound that seemed to go straight to Fred's crotch, if the way it twitched against her was any indication. She raked her nails down the length of his spine, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his holey old jeans.
"Off," she ordered him stubbornly as she rolled her hips against him once, the friction of their zippers making the air leave her lungs in a huff.
Fred shut his eyes a moment, as if trying to keep from blowing his load right then and there. Winona smirked smugly, tugging at his jeans. "Are you sure, Win?" he asked once he'd gotten control of himself.
The look she gave him was positively wicked. "I'm not a blushing virgin, Fred," she reminded him as she danced her fingers along the waistband until she found the button at the front, undoing it with a flick of her wrist. "Take the trousers off and get down to business already."
Now it was Fred's turn to smirk. "Impatient?"
She refused to feel self-conscious. "We've waited long enough," she told him bluntly. "I need you."
Fred had to shut his eyes again, and she took the opportunity to shove his jeans over his waist and kick them down his legs with her feet. He pressed against her properly now, with only her jeans and his boxers to separate them, and when she glanced down to sneak a peek, Winona was taken aback to find a pair of novelty boxers on his hips.
Fred opened his eyes at the sound of her surprised laughter, confused, only for his cheeks to turn pink when he realised what she was giggling at.
"Golden Snitch underwear?" she asked him incredulously through her peals of bright amusement.
"They were a gag gift from Charlie," he said defensively, clearly wishing he'd put on any other item of underwear that morning. "What, you don't think they're sexy?" he asked, struggling to recover.
Winona pretended to take a moment to think about it, pressing a finger to the small dimple in her chin. "No, no," she told him with exaggerated sincerity, "I think they're very hot."
Fred arched an eyebrow, seeming to regain some of his swagger. "Well, now it's only fair I get to see yours," he said, surprisingly smooth.
Winona laughed again – strange, because there had never been this much laughter during sex with Jeremiah. In fact, she was quite sure she'd never laughed with him even once. She'd never thought she would find laughter particularly sexy, but something about being half naked with Fred and still finding things to giggle about made her feel more at ease than anything else ever had.
She went for the latch of her jeans, unbuttoning it and then dragging down her zipper. The moment they were loose, Fred climbed off her body, giving himself the leverage he needed to tug them down her legs.
Winona wasn't the tallest girl in their grade – and as it was, Fred had at least a few inches on her, being nearly six foot himself – but her legs were long and smooth, thanks to the magical hair removal cream Alicia ordered every few months from an advertisement in Witch Weekly. She shared it around the dorm like they shared everything else, and Winona had never been so glad.
Once her jeans were on the floor, Fred crawled back onto the bed. But instead of climbing back over her, he started low at her feet, kissing his way leisurely up her leg. His fingers tickled at the spot behind her knee, and she laughed against as he lavished attention to the top of her thighs, then the waistband of her underwear – deep blue, not at all matching her bra, but she got the distinct impression that Fred didn't care.
Chills broke out across her sensitive areas and her pale skin had flushed a pretty pink. Fred crawled back up her body just as she shucked off her bra. His eyes went wide at the sight of her laid before him, bare but for the scrap of fabric between her legs, but she was too impatient to let him have his fill of the view, gripping him by the hair and pulling him back down onto her to seal their lips together in a wet, needy kiss.
There was nothing at all separating them except the thin material of their underwear, and Winona was very suddenly aware of exactly how intimate they were. Somehow Fred – wonderful, magical, intuitive Fred – seemed to sense her abrupt attitude shift. He pulled back from her lips, one hand threaded through her loose hair, the other resting on her hip.
"All right?" he asked, breathless and glassy-eyed but concerned all the same.
"Just realising that we're actually, properly doing this," she whispered.
Fred smirked. "Well, we're not doing it just yet," he said with a meaningful glance down at their underwear.
She slapped him on the shoulder in playful reprimand. "I just mean…what if you regret this?" she asked, hating herself for pulling them from the mood, but needing to say it aloud. "What if this happens, and we decide it was a terrible mistake?" she asked, feeling disarmingly vulnerable.
But Fred didn't seem frustrated by her concerns, if anything he looked tender as he detangled his hand from her hair only to brush the backs of his fingers down the length of her flushed face.
"Win, this will never be a mistake," he told her with such belief, such conviction, that she automatically believed him. "I've wanted you for so long that I've forgotten what it was like not to."
The raw, simple honesty of the statement made her body go still, and he was staring down at her with such love that she found it difficult to breathe.
"If you want to stop, we will," he promised her. "But if this is what you want, too…I'm all in."
But the doubts were beginning to swim in her head, making her dizzy with the force of it. "But what if it's bad?" she wondered desperately. "What if we don't…fit?"
This time when Fred smirked it was confident and smug and so goddamn sexy that she felt her insides clench with the need to have him inside of her. "Trust me, love," he said smoothly, "I'll fit you just right."
And maybe it was going to be a complete mistake, and maybe they'd wake up tomorrow morning and regret this whole thing and not be able to look one another in the face for a solid week. But fuck if she didn't want it so bad she was willing to risk it all.
So Winona just kissed him, plunging her tongue into his mouth as she impatiently tugged down his ridiculous boxer shorts and yanked stubbornly at her own knickers. As she was kicking the last of their clothes to the floor, Fred had just enough sanity left to reach for his wand, discarded on the bedside table next to hers.
With a flick of his wrist and a muttered spell, her abdomen felt hot for a moment before the feeling faded, the Contraceptive Charm in full effect. This was it – they were doing this, crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, no matter the magic at their disposal. Winona felt suddenly exposed, and she decided in a flash that if they really were about to seal the deal, she was going to be in full control when they did.
She pushed at Fred and he obediently fell back onto his unmade covers. Without pause Winona hitched her leg over his hip and settled down over him. They pressed together in the most intimate way and Fred let out a groan at the feel of her, hot and wet, against him.
"You ready?" she asked him without thought, hands pressed against his sternum, hips rolling into his because she physically couldn't keep from moving. Her skin buzzed and her vision was hazy – no doubt in part from the firewhisky, but mostly she was just drunk off Fred.
"I have literally never been more ready for anything in my entire life," he told her plainly, and she really shouldn't have been surprised that he could make her laugh even then.
Positioning him at her entrance, Winona waited a second, savouring the moment before everything changed, then took a deep breath and sank onto him. Fred let out a small squeak at the feeling, and Winona exhaled sharply at the feeling of being so completely filled.
Fred was right – it was a tight fit, but fit he did. It took Winona a few long minutes of slowly working herself onto him, allowing herself time to adjust. She could tell Fred was struggling not to move, but he held himself still, watching her with awe in his lovely cornflower stare.
"Good?" she whispered.
Fred's Adam's apple dipped as he gulped, and Winona followed the movement with her eyes. "Yeah," he whispered back, hands still gripping her hips tightly enough to bruise.
She braced her hands on his broad, firm chest and began to move. Then they were lost in a sea of moans and heaving breathing, sweat and an ever-building tension that twisted her insides into knots and made her head go dizzy.
The way he stared up at her made her skin feel like it were boiling, but in a good way. Unable to stand his eyes fixed on her like she was all he could see, Winona bent over his body and fused their mouths together.
Fred flipped them unexpectedly, but Winona was too lost in sensation to care. It was different to how it had been with Jeremiah. This wasn't just sex – this was something entirely new. She didn't know how to describe it, but it was almost like Fred wasn't just inside her body – it was like he was inside her soul.
She had the feeling of being known, of being felt and seen and consumed so entirely. But instead of frightening her, it made her pleasure more intense. The sounds that came from her mouth were foreign to her, and Fred swallowed them into himself, hands holding her close to him like he never wanted to be parted from her again.
He changed angles and slid against her in a particularly wonderful way, and Winona gasped, gripping him tighter. "Good?" he whispered into her mouth.
"Oh yeah," she replied feverishly.
Fred laughed, but the sound quickly dissolved into a groan when she raked her nails down the length of his spine. Her nails were short – kept that way because there was less room for them to get dirty from charcoal and paint – but they were long enough to leave marks, and apparently Fred liked the feeling, so she did it again, making him gasp against her.
"Faster," she begged him, bowing her body against him, hips tilting at just the right angle. Fred complied and Winona's pleasure began to build. She moved her free hand to her centre, rubbing impatiently at her clit, trying to get there quicker, but Fred wasn't having any of it.
He batted her hand away, replacing it with his own. She threw her head back and moaned, toes curling when Fred lavished her throat with attention. The tension in her nerves built and built, and soon she was on the edge like she never had been before. Coming from her mouth was just a constant run of Fred's name, and he seemed to be whispering something into her skin, but she was too gone to hear any of it.
The world exploded into white, and Winona bit down on Fred's shoulder to keep from crying out her pleasure. Wave after wave she came, still scratching at Fred's shoulder blades, mewling quietly. Eventually she went boneless, and it took Fred only a few moments before he followed, falling still over her with a sigh.
The world seemed to disappear, and it was just the two of them, wrapped up in one another and his set of sweaty sheets. Fred rolled off of her to keep from crushing her with his weight, but she followed his body, curling into his side and pressing kisses to his sternum.
As an afterthought Fred lifted the quilt at the end of his bed, throwing it carelessly over the both of them now that the sweat was beginning to cool on their skin. Winona nuzzled into his side, legs tangled together under the blanket, and she listened to his heartbeat, still racing within his chest.
"So," Fred said some indeterminable amount of time later, pulse finally beginning to slow. "Would you call that a mistake?"
Winona laughed again, feeling her own heartbeat slowly begin to calm down. Her body was sore and satisfied, buzzing not with want, but with contentment. She pressed her lips against his skin again. "Actually, I'd call that a raging success," she told him.
Fred's hand moved to her hair. "Thank Merlin," he breathed into her blonde tresses. "Because, personally, I don't think I've ever done anything more right."
She propped her chin up on the hand resting over his steady heart. "That's sappy."
"It's true."
Winona rolled her lips into her mouth to save herself from giving a truly stupid smile. She stared at him, watching the way he stared dazedly up at the ceiling, still seeming to be riding the last of the high.
Words were bubbling up from her chest, tickling at her throat and then burning at her tongue with the need to be spoken aloud. They were big, important, scary words. Words she knew would change everything and nothing at all.
She wondered if she had the courage to say them, but didn't get the chance to find out.
The dorm's door opened with a bang, and both Fred sat up with a gasp, instinctively tugging at the quilt covering Winona, intent on keeping her modesty intact. Only it wasn't George bursting carelessly through the door, but rather Lee followed by a laughing Angelina.
"They're in here somewhere," Lee was saying loudly, teetering somewhat as he walked, the alcohol clearly having gone to his head. "You think we'd be able to get-"
They would never know what Lee had been trying to say, because he cut himself off abruptly as he laid eyes on the very naked pair wrapped in the sheets of Fred's bed. Lee's eyes went wide and his mouth hung open stupidly. Angelina's expression, on the other hand, closed off completely.
Winona sat up, holding the quilt to her chest. "Ange," she said, then stopped, because what exactly was she supposed to say? I'm so sorry you just walked in on the afterglow of the fantastic, life-altering sex of your best friend and ex-boyfriend?
Angelina said nothing, just swallowed thickly, nodded once, then turned and left the room as silently as she'd entered. Lee didn't move, staring at them like a deer caught in the headlight.
"Fucking hell, Lee," barked Fred, picking up a nearby pillow and lobbing it at him. "Get out!"
Lee fled the room with a strangled yelp, and the air left Winona in a whoosh as she collapsed back onto the bed. She'd been right; although not for the reasons she'd expected, things had just gotten mighty complicated.
A/N: Really hope everyone enjoyed this one. I hope you're all staying safe and healthy, and that my stories are helping to take your mind off the terrible things happening in the world at the moment. Stay safe out there, and I'll see you again soon with another chapter!
Spotlight review goes to: RulerOfCats – thank you so much for reviewing. Your review made me smile so widely; your kind words about my writing and the story so far, it really touched me. I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I can't wait to hear your thoughts in the future!