"Oh, honestly, you two!" Mrs Weasley's familiar voice shrieked, interrupting Winona and Fred's rare moment alone. "We're in the kitchen! We eat in here! Can't you act proper for more than five minutes?!"
"Yeah, Fred," shouted George from where he was helping Ginny gather together their cutlery. "Keep it in your pants!"
"George!" Mrs Weasley squawked at her son's crass comment.
Groaning in disappointment, Fred reluctantly unwound his arms from around Winona's waist. She grinned at him, eyes glinting with a promise to pick up where they'd left off later. Unable to help herself, she pushed up into the tips of her toes to peck him once on the lips, then patted his freckled cheek and shuffled out of the alcove to join Mrs Weasley at the stove.
"Why don't you plate up the carrots, dear?" she suggested. Winona nodded, fetching a plate from the cupboard and doing as she was told.
She worked in easy quiet for a moment, then Mrs Weasley shrieked so loudly that Winona's ears rang, "NO, JUST CARRY THEM!"
Knowing without turning that she was talking to the twins, Winona almost didn't look, dreading what she'd find. Only, the urge was impossible to resist and she couldn't help but glance up just in time to watch the large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of Butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard and knife shoot across the room, very nearly taking off Sirius and Harry's heads. They dashed out of the way just in time, and Mundungus collapsed to the floor, looking dazed.
Seeing nobody was hurt, Winona pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. Across the room, Harry and Sirius were doing nothing to hide their own chuckles. Mrs Weasley, however, was not remotely amused.
"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" she screamed at her sons. "THERE WAS NO NEED – I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS – JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"
"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred argued, gripping the hilt of the knife that had embedded itself in the wood of the table and yanking. "Sorry, Sirius, mate – didn't mean to-"
His apology was cut off by more of Sirius' laughter. Fred grinned, always glad to be the cause of someone's laughter, but Mr Weasley agreed with his wife.
"Boys, your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now you've come of age–"
"–none of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley was still screeching at her sons, almost beyond reason. Winona frowned, considering stepping in, but Fred seemed to sense her thoughts and glanced to her with a short shake of his head. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy–!"
Mrs Weasley fell abruptly silent, tossing a frightened glance at her husband, whose expression had gone hard.
"Let's eat," said Bill quickly, in an attempt to cover the blunder.
"It looks wonderful, Molly," added Remus, ladling stew on to a plate for her and handing it across the table.
Winona helped bring a new flagon of butterbeer to the table, then looked for a place to sit. Her instinct was to go to Harry, but he was sat between Bill and Sirius, and so she turned to the seats remaining, taking one of the two open at the end of the table.
Ron pulled out the seat beside her, but in a flash Fred was there, slapping his younger brother upside the head. "Oi!" Ron cried, holding his head even as he obediently loped away, taking an open seat opposite them. Fred collapsed into the chair beside her, and she instantly rested a hand on his leg in comfortable hello. He shot her a tiny, secret grin, and even after all this time her heart still skipped a beat.
"I've been meaning to tell you, Sirius," Mrs Weasley eventually said once they all had bowls of stew and the silence had dragged long enough to be awkward, "there's something trapped in that writing desk in the drawing room, it keeps rattling and shaking. Of course, it could just be a boggart, but I thought we ought to ask Alastor to have a look at it before we let it out."
Sirius was indifferent, as he usually was when it came to Mrs Weasley. They'd never quite seen eye to eye. "Whatever you like," he said with a shrug.
"The curtains in there are full of doxies, too," Mrs Weasley continued. "I thought we might try and tackle them tomorrow."
"I look forward to it," said Sirius, utterly dry, but Winona doubted Mrs Weasley caught the sarcasm. People tended to hear only what they wanted to hear.
Bill, Mr Weasley and Lupin began a boring conversation about goblin politics down the other end of the table, and Tonks began to entertain Hermione and Ginny with pig snouts and duck bills.
"How's business, Dung?" Fred asked around his mouthful. Fred wasn't quite as anti-Mundungus as Winona was. He and George thought the guy was funny, which made him alright in their books. Honestly, Winona didn't have a problem with him other than the fact he'd abandoned Harry to make little more than a few extra quid. And anyone who put her cousin in unnecessary danger was not alright in her books.
Still, she couldn't deny he was an entertaining guy, so when he sat up, ready to regale them with stories from his less-than-legal business dealings, Winona had to admit she was interested.
"You'll never guess wha' 'appened yesterday," Mundungus began, all but abandoning his food to tell them his story. Winona tried to keep her face neutral as he spoke matter-of-factly about stealing some poor bloke's knot of toads, but when he got to the part about selling them back to him for double the price, Winona couldn't help but break.
Laughter poured from her and the twins, and Ron had tears running down his face, pounding his fist against the table in amusement. Fred had lost the plot, too, collapsing into her side so she had to hole him upright through her own gasping giggles.
"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus," Mrs Weasley interjected sharply, just as her youngest son slumped forwards onto the table, howling with laughter.
"Beg pardon, Molly," said Mundungus around a cough, wiping his eyes and winking at Harry across the table, who was staring at them with a peculiar look on his face. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em off Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing nothing wrong–"
"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons," Mrs Weasley said coldly, sending a nasty look at Sirius before stepping away from the table, heading back into the kitchen corner of the room to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for pudding.
Winona half wanted to tell Mrs Weasley to lighten up, but she didn't need to be a Seer to know that would go about as well as a nun in a whorehouse. She settled for frowning, some of her mirth dissolved, and casting a look up the table at her cousin and father.
"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius was telling Harry in an undertone that Winona could only just hear.
"How come he's in the Order?" Harry asked just as quietly. Mr Weasley, Bill and Remus had returned to their stimulating conversation about wizard-goblin relations, and the twins had launched into dramatic soliloquies about Will and his knot of stolen toads, leaving Winona free to eavesdrop on her family.
"He's useful," Sirius told Harry with a considering glance at the wizard in question. "Knows all the crooks – well, he would, seeing as he's one himself. But he's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you. Neither has Winnie, by the way, but I think she's retained the ability to see the lighter side of things."
Winona stared down into her empty bowl, pushing around the few pieces of carrot and meat that she hadn't eaten. Mrs Weasley returned with the rhubarb crumble and custard, dishing it out for everyone – even Mundungus, although his portion was significantly smaller than anybody else's.
Eventually even the dessert was gone, leaving them with full bellies and yawns bubbling up from their chests. Winona leaned back in her chair, holding Fred's hand underneath the table, feeling nearly lulled to sleep by the slow brush of his thumb against her skin.
"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley said during a natural lull in conversation.
"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. Winona immediately felt a swoop in her gut and she went rigid in her seat. Something bad was coming, and to Winona it was rather like staring at a train wreck happening in slow motion.
Whatever her dad was going to say wasn't going to be particularly pleasant, but yet she trusted him. And maybe, although they wouldn't enjoy it, it would end up being necessary. Gripping Fred's hand tight, she forced herself to relax.
"You know, I'm surprised at you, Harry," said Sirius mildly. "I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."
The atmosphere in the room changed immediately. One moment things were light and easy, and in the next it was like the air had been sucked from the room, leaving them all holding their breath, waiting for the air to return.
All the adults had turned wary, but none more so than Winona, who watched everyone closely. She felt out of control – because whatever was said tonight, it wouldn't be by her. She couldn't reveal any of Dumbledore's – or the Order's – secrets. Literally on pain of death.
"I did!" cried Harry, going from sleepy to indignant in a heartbeat. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order-"
"And they're quite right," snapped Mrs Weasley, trying to put an end to it. "You're too young."
"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius countered smartly. Mrs Weasley's mouth resembled a thin line, and Winona wondered what she was trying to keep herself from saying. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happening-"
"Hang on!" George said loudly, heedless of propriety. Winona let go of Fred's hand so she could wring her own together anxiously beneath the table. This wasn't going to be pretty, she could feel it in her bones.
"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" Fred agreed, staring angrily at the adults around him. Fred had been remarkably good at not asking Winona a single question about anything to do with the Order – which was understandable, considering if she said so much as a wrong word, she could cease to be altogether – but when it came to getting answers out of the others, he was hardly as restrained.
"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"
"You're too young, you're not in the Order," said Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded remarkably like his mother's. Winona knew he and George had gone through a mimicking phase as kids. They'd gotten it down to a fine art. "That's such bollocks! Winona's our age, and she's in the order! And Harry's not even seventeen yet!"
"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing,' said Sirius calmly, refusing to rise to the bait, "that's your parents' decision. You know why Winona's different, Fred. And Harry, on the other hand–"
"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs Weasley sharply.
"Who says it isn't?" Winona snapped. She couldn't reveal anything about the Order, but she sure as hell wasn't going to stay silent on the matter. "He's Harry's Godfather – that makes him Harry's legal guardian. And if that wasn't enough, he's my dad, making him Harry's uncle, too. If anybody in this room has a say in what's good for Harry, it's him."
Mrs Weasley looked stunned by the argument. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting Winona to speak up. Her mouth flapped a moment, speechless. "But-but Sirius and Jessica were never married-"
"Are you saying marriage is the only thing that makes a family real?" Winona countered without missing a beat.
Seeming to sense this wasn't an argument she was going to win, Mrs Weasley changed tactics. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?" she asked quickly, shrewd eyes flickering between Sirius and his obstinate daughter.
"Which bit?" Sirius asked with faux politeness coating his tone. He was sitting tense in his seat, like a man ready for a fight, and if Winona weren't so heated, she might have laughed at the mental image of her dad and Mrs Weasley battling it out, Rocky Balboa style.
"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs Weasley said tersely.
"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," Sirius assured her with hard eyes. "But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back, he has more right than most to-"
"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs Weasley said shrilly. "He's only fifteen and-"
"–and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and more than some-"
"No one's denying what he's done!" snapped Mrs Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still-"
"He's not a child!" argued Sirius impatiently.
"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs Weasley, cheeks bright red. "He's not James, Sirius!"
Sirius' entire being went rigid, and his hard eyes turned cold. "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," he said, voice edged with steel.
"I'm not sure you are!" squawked Mrs Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"
"What's wrong with that?" demanded Harry. The entire table stared between them, stunned into silence as they watched the verbal tennis match. Winona wasn't breathing, and she felt Fred's hand on her leg, holding tight, a reassuring weight.
"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!" Mrs Weasley said sharply, without looking away from Sirius. "You are still at school and the adults responsible for you should not forget it!"
"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" demanded Sirius, his voice rising. Winona went even more rigid, pulse loud in her ears.
Mrs Weasley didn't back down, even though Winona now wished she would. "Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and-"
"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!"
"Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley, rounding on her husband. "Arthur, back me up!"
Mr Weasley took a few long moments to speak, taking the time to clean off his glasses on his robes, chewing carefully on his words before speaking them aloud. "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in, to a certain extent, now that he is staying at headquarters-"
Mrs Weasley sat up straight, glaring at her husband with betrayal. Clearly she'd been expecting him to be firmly on her side. Winona was relieved he wasn't. "Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"
"Harry has a right to ask questions," Winona snapped, the words burning hot on her tongue. "If we can't answer them, we can be honest about that. He's mature enough to understand."
"You, little miss, will not be answering any questions – or have you forgotten your Vow to Dumbledore?"
Winona was grinding her teeth so hard she could feel an ache building behind her eyes. "Don't talk to her that way," said Sirius before Winona could snap back, his voice like ice. Mrs Weasley looked surprised by the reaction.
"Personally," said Lupin quietly, dissolving some of the tension that had gathered in the air, "I think it better that Harry gets the facts – not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture – from us, rather than a garbled version from…others."
"Well," said Mrs Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, 'well…I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart-"
"He's not your son," said Sirius, quiet but certainly not soft.
"He's as good as," Mrs Weasley said fiercely. "Who else has he got?"
Deeply offended, Winona felt her skin grow hot, and she knew she must have turned red. "He's got me!" shouted Sirius.
"And me!" Winona added, the words like daggers. She was horrified when her eyes began to burn – but the tears weren't of sadness. Rather, they were a hot anger, the kind that settled under her skin like magma under the earth's crust.
"Yes," said Mrs Weasley, her lip curling in an expression that was so unlike herself that Winona felt almost scared, "the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
Sirius began to stand from his chair, and Winona blew her top. "Don't you dare-" she snarled, cut off by Fred's hand on her arm, pulling her backwards as if to keep her from hitting someone. Which was fair, because she did have a bit of a violent history.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Remus sharply, eyeing them all sternly. "Sirius, sit down. And Winona, take a breath."
Eyes flew to her, and she did as she was told, hating the way her eyes glittered with traitorous tears. Mrs Weasley glanced at her, and Winona watched as regret flickered over her face at finding her so upset. Good, Winona thought bitterly, let her feel guilty.
Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white. He glanced at Winona, but she was staring hard at the table, trying to keep the tears from spilling down her face. Fred's hand left her arm, moving instead to her back, beginning to trace his fingertips over the ridges of her spine, a soothing, repetitive motion that was meant to relax her, but didn't have much effect.
"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continued wisely, "he's old enough to decide for himself."
"I want to know what's been going on," Harry said without so much as a moment's hesitation.
"As is his right," added Winona, looking up at Mrs Weasley, thunder in her stormy eyes.
"Very well," said Mrs Weasley, her voice cracking. "Ginny–Ron–Hermione–Fred–George–I want you out of this kitchen, now."
There was instant uproar, just as Winona knew there would be.
"We're of age!" George bellowed hotly.
"You're mental if you think I'm leaving Winnie alone with you!" added Fred, just as fierce. Mrs Weasley looked momentarily stunned by the force of the statement, but everyone else was shouting and it got buried under the tidal wave of noise.
"NO!" Mrs Weasley shouted, standing up with the loud groan of her chair's legs against the floor, her eyes bright with angry tears. "I absolutely forbid-"
"Molly you can't stop Fred and George," said Mr Weasley. Winona looked at him properly – he seemed tired, and for the first time she noticed that he looked much older than he had last time she'd seen him. As if everything that had happened in the last few months had aged him terribly. "They're of age-"
"They're still at school!"
"But they're legally adults now," said Mr Weasley, in the same, tired voice.
Mrs Weasley was now bright red in the face. She looked around the table, searching for support, but again she found nobody on her side. "Oh, all right then," she relented, "Fred and George can stay, but Ron-"
"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron insisted. "Won't – won't you?" he added, looking over at Harry, suddenly uncertain.
"Course I will," said Harry without hesitation.
Ron and Hermione slumped with relief, grinning at Harry happily.
"Fine!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, at her wits' end. "Fine! Ginny – BED!"
Ginny tore off in a furious rage with Mrs Weasley at her heels, so loud and uncouth that Mrs Black's portrait awoke to add her screeches of ire to the mix. Remus leapt to his feet, rushing off to shut her grandmother up, and Winona took the brief break in conversation to slump in her seat and scrub angrily at her wet eyes.
Fred's hand smoothed up and down her back, and he inched his chair closer to hers. "All right?" he asked, warm breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. Winona just scrubbed harder at her eyes. "Sorry about mum. She shouldn't have said those things," he whispered.
"You don't need to apologise for her, Fred," she told him, gripping his leg under the table, the heat of his skin through his jeans a steady comfort. "She can do it for herself once she's taken her head out of her arse."
Fred made a face, but didn't disagree.
Remus reappeared, closing the kitchen door softly behind him and taking his seat at the table again.
A moment of quiet, and then Sirius finally spoke. "Okay, Harry," he said with more patience and compassion than Mrs Weasley had shown all night. "What do you want to know?"
"Where's Voldemort?" Harry asked bluntly, ignoring the way the whole room winced. "What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news, and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything-"
"That's because there haven't been any funny deaths yet," said Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway… And we know quite a lot."
"More than he thinks we do, anyway," said Remus with a knowing glance at Winona. She met his eyes without smiling, before turning her gaze back to Harry, watching him carefully.
"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry wondered. Winona had to hand it to him – it was a valid opening question.
"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself," said Sirius. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."
"Or rather, you messed it up for him," added Remus.
Harry stared at them like they'd just told him he'd been chosen to play the lead in the latest performance of Swan Lake. "How?" he asked, perplexed.
"You weren't supposed to survive," said Sirius. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."
"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," added Remus. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."
"How has that helped?" Harry asked, sounding confused. Winona raised her eyebrows at him – she dared not say anything for risk of betraying her vow, but she could usually communicate with her cousin through facial expressions alone. For now, that would have to be enough.
"Are you kidding?" Bill scoffed incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of."
"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," Sirius told Harry, a proud look on his face that made Winona's chest ache.
"So, what's the Order been doing?" asked Harry desperately. He was so relieved to finally be getting some answers, that now the questions were bubbling out of him like overcooked potion.
Sirius paused a moment, considering how to word his answer. "Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans."
"How d'you know what his plans are?" Harry asked quickly. His eyes quickly flickered to his Winona. "Have you been keeping an eye on it for them?" he asked eagerly. "Is that why you're in the Order?"
"Best not to ask Winnie any questions directly, Harry," Sirius told him carefully.
Befuddled, Harry turned to him. "Why not?"
For a moment nobody answered. Winona scowled so hard she gave herself a headache. "She can't tell you anything," Sirius finally told him. "It's complicated as to why."
"It was the price to being in the Order," Winona told Harry heedlessly. Sirius, Remus, Fred and George all winced the moment she opened her mouth. But Winona knew the boundaries of her Vow – she knew what she could and could not say. And Harry deserved to hear this from her. "I can't tell you anything. I wish I could, but I can't."
Harry gaped at her a moment, betrayed, and Winona winced under his cool emerald stare. "You agreed to that?" he finally asked, disbelieving.
She levelled him with a heartfelt look, eyes still shining from their fight with Mrs Weasley. "Better one of us works from the inside," she told him, trying to appeal to his reason, "no matter the cost."
Fred's hand found its way onto her thigh again. There was nothing sexual about the touch. He just held his hand there, rubbing the smallest of circles through the fabric of her jeans. Harry continued to stare at her and Winona hated the way it made her eyes sting more. She'd expected him to be upset – but so angry he couldn't speak to her? She hadn't thought it would be that bad.
Why could she never See the things that mattered to her?
"Winnie isn't our only insight into the Death Eaters' movements," said Remus, breaking the tense silence that had befallen the room.
Winona broke her hurt stare with Harry, turning to look at Fred instead. He was frowning, but when he saw her looking her smiled. Not his wide, wicked grin, and not his cheesy beam either. This was soft; sad; concerned. It made her heart ache more.
"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," Remus continued, capturing Harry's attention, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."
Harry shifted in his seat. "So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"
A moment of quiet as those in the Order weighed their words cautiously. "Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," Sirius finally said, taking great care with what they were giving away – for more reasons than one. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command: witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one of the groups he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."
Winona vision flickered, but she ignored it, pushing the vision away with everything she had. Whatever the aether wanted her to See, it could wait. This was more important.
"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?" Harry asked, leaning forwards in his seat, hanging on every piece of information they gave him – the first real information he'd gotten his hands on in over a month.
Remus shifted where he sat, eyes darting from Sirius to Winona and back again. "We're doing our best," he said tactfully.
But Harry's curiosity wasn't to be deterred. "How?"
"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill was the one to speak now, arms crossed over his chest, shaggy hair hanging in his face, although he didn't seem to notice. "It's proving tricky, though."
Winona scoffed. "Understatement," she muttered. Remus sent her a warning look while Sirius just scoffed in agreement.
Harry was confused. "Why?"
"Because of the Ministry's attitude," Tonks spoke up – she was an Auror with the Ministry. If anyone had the authority to comment, it was her. "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."
"But why?" Harry asked desperately.
"Uh, because he's a cock?" Winona chimed snidely. The twins let out loud guffaws at her typical mouthiness, and Tonks joined in. Mr Weasley sent her a scolding look that had no effect, and Harry pressed on, ignoring her – which hurt more than she'd have liked to admit.
"Why's he being so stupid?" he demanded. "If Dumbledore-"
"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," Mr Weasley interjected, grim amusement in his tired eyes. "Dumbledore."
"Fudge is frightened of him, you see," added Tonks, wrinkling her nose at the thought.
Harry was incredulous. "Frightened of Dumbledore?" he asked, as if he'd never heard anything more stupid.
Mr Weasley leaned forwards in his chair, picking up his goblet of butterbeer and taking a deep drink before answering. "Frightened of what he's up to. Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister for Magic."
Her cousin's eyes went wide at the absurdity of it all. "But Dumbledore doesn't want-"
"Of course he doesn't," said Mr Weasley. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired."
Winona grimaced at the sound of her name. Millicent Bagnold was the Minister for Magic when her mother had been killed and her dad had been sent to Azkaban without a trial. Bagnold was the reason Winona had been dropped into the foster system. She was the reason Winona had lived her whole life under the shadow of a lie. All because she'd thought it was for the best.
Winona hoped she never came face to face with the woman. She certainly couldn't be held responsible for her actions if she ever did.
"Fudge came to power instead," Mr Weasley continued, oblivious to Winona's bitter, internal tangent, "but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."
"Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice," said Remus quietly, eyes distant as he thought of a time long since passed. "But it seems he's become fond of power, and much more confident. He loves being Minister for Magic and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."
"How can he think that?" Harry demanded angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up – that I'd make it all up?"
Winona looked at Harry again. He sounded so young in that moment, like a child learning the world was a cruel place, and wondering why nobody ever did anything about it. Winona wondered if she'd ever been that child.
Probably not; she'd always been a cynic. Even as a kid.
"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," said her dad bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilise him."
"You see the problem," said Remus in his usual, quiet way. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumour-mongering, so most of the wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."
Harry was beginning to look desperate, and maybe a tiny bit crazed. "But you're telling people, aren't you?" he asked, looking at all the adults imploringly. "You're letting people know he's back?"
Everybody smiled, but it was without a hint of humour. Winona's lips curled up too, bitterness curling in her stomach.
"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry's put a ten thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" asked Sirius, sounding so bitter and defeated that Winona suddenly realised he wasn't handling this as well as he seemed.
Sometimes she didn't really see things as well as she should, particularly for a Seer.
"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community. It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf," added Remus, eyes on a knot in the wood of the table.
"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," said Sirius, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."
Harry turned to Winona, and she was so surprised that she started, blinking at him like a deer in the headlights. "People will listen to you, won't they?" he asked quickly. "From what I've gathered over the years, Seers are kind of a big deal in the Wizarding world."
Nobody said anything, and Winona knew she needed to be the one to tell him. "Sirius isn't the only one with a price on his head," she told Harry gently. "You-Know-Who wants me – maybe even more than he wants you, at this point, albeit for very different reasons. I can't go making noise. Not now; it's too dangerous."
Harry looked skeptical. "When has that ever stopped you?"
It felt vaguely hostile, but Mr Weasley swooped in before Winona had a chance to figure out how to react.
"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though. Tonks here, for one – she's too young to have been in the Order last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage – Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset, too; he's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."
"But if none of you are putting the news out that Voldemort's back-" Harry began passionately.
"Who said none of us are putting the news out?" countered Sirius. "Why d'you think Dumbledore's in such trouble?"
"What d'you mean?"
"They're trying to discredit him," said Remus. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true; he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – that's the Wizard High Court – and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."
"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog Cards," added Bill with a wide, mirthful grin. Winona, now tracing patterns onto the back of Fred's hand, managed a soft smirk. She remembered that day – it was probably the only time she'd laughed during an Order meeting.
Mr Weasley, however, didn't feel as fond. "It's no laughing matter," he said sharply. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this he could end up in Azkaban, and the last thing we want is to have Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously. If Dumbledore's out of the way – well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."
It was a humbling thought. Right now, as the pieces were stood, the only thing standing between You-Know-Who and total control was one man. Winona remembered the day back in her first year, when she'd drawn Dumbledore dead.
She hadn't been sure then, when it would come to pass. But it was almost as if something inside of her had been counting off the days. Like some part of her knew his days were numbered. Some part of her knew the time when they'd have to learn to make do without Dumbledore was on the horizon.
And she wished it didn't terrify her to pieces.
"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit more Death Eaters, it's bound to get out that he's come back, isn't it?" Harry asked, desperate for to find traction in the topic. He couldn't fathom nobody believing him about this – because why in Merlin's name would he lie? Winona wondered if he'd ever become as jaded as she was with the world. Then hoped he wouldn't.
"Voldemort doesn't march up to people's houses and bang on their front doors, Harry," said Sirius with the tiniest hint of a smile. "He tricks, jinxes and blackmails them. He's well-practised at operating in secret. In any case, gathering followers is only one thing he's interested in. He's got other plans too, plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed, and he's concentrating on those for the moment."
They were getting into dangerous territory now. Winona found herself holding her breath once more.
Harry leaned forwards in his seat, sure he was on the edge of some great revelation. Something that would make sense of this whole mess. "What's he after, apart from followers?" he asked them intently.
Sirius glanced at Winona. Their eyes met, but Winona neither nodded nor shook her head. She couldn't sway him – it was too close to revealing the secrets she'd vowed to keep hidden. But if Sirius wanted to tell Harry on his own – well then, that had nothing whatsoever to do with her, did it?
Sirius looked away again, back at Harry, and now Winona wasn't just holding her breath. She couldn't even breathe at all. "Stuff he can only get by stealth," Sirius told Harry slowly, choosing his words with great care. Harry just looked confused, struggling to connect the dots. Winona couldn't blame him – they weren't exactly numbered. "Like a weapon," Sirius pressed gently. "Something he didn't have last time."
Harry cocked his head. "When he was powerful before?"
A beat. "Yes."
"Like what kind of weapon? Something worse than the Avada Kedavra–?"
"That's enough!"
Mrs Weasley had reappeared, stepping form the shadows with a wrathful look on her rounded face. Winona grit her teeth, looking deliberately away. She wasn't interested in interacting with Mrs Weasley right now – or possibly ever again.
"I want you in bed, now. All of you," she continued sternly, looking at the twins, Ron and Hermione.
Fred bristled at Winona's side, his hand leaving her thigh to ball into fists on top of the table. "You can't boss us-"
"Watch me," snarled Mrs Weasley. She was trembling slightly as she looked at Sirius, venom in her eyes. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway."
"Why not?" Harry exclaimed without a hint of hesitation. "I'll join. I want to join, I want to fight."
"No."
To Winona's surprise, it wasn't Mrs Weasley who had said it, but rather Remus. She glanced at him, finding him with a frown on his scarred face, shaggy hair falling into his eyes.
"The Order is comprised only of overage wizards," he said, sounding perfectly reasonable, even if his words were something of a stab in the back. "Wizards who have left school," he added as the twins opened their mouths to argue. They cried out in more protest. "Wizards who have left school and aren't Winona Black," he elaborated with the exhaustion of an overworked teacher. Despite her irritation, Winona couldn't help but smirk, a hollow expression. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you… I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."
Pleased to finally have her way, Mrs Weasley looked sternly at her sons and Hermione, beckoning them out of the kitchen and up to the higher floors where their rooms waited.
Winona turned to her dad, opening her mouth, only for Mrs Weasley to speak over her. "You too, Winona. Bed time."
Resentment towards Mrs Weasley curdled in her gut, and Winona looked to Sirius pleadingly. He smiled, apologetic. "Go get some rest, Pup," he told her quietly. "We can talk in the morning."
Winona relented with a sigh, pushing back her chair and climbing to her feet. Fred was there to take her hand, intertwining their fingers as they made their way up the stairs, Mrs Weasley hovering over them like a watchful gargoyle, stern and grim.
"I want you all to go straight to bed, no talking," she said as they reached the first landing. "We've got a busy day tomorrow. I expect Ginny's asleep, so try not to wake her up," she added to Hermione, who made a face that was very unlike her.
"Asleep? Yeah, right," Fred murmured to the rest of them as Hermione slipped into her room and they made their way up the next flight of stairs. "If Ginny's not lying awake waiting for Hermione to tell her everything they said downstairs, then I'm a Flobberworm…"
"All right, Ron, Harry," said Mrs Weasley on the second landing, pointing them into their bedroom. "Off to bed with you."
"Night," Harry and Ron said to Winona and the twins.
But so much had happened tonight; Winona wanted the chance to speak to Harry plainly, without anybody else around to interrupt or listen in. "Actually, Harry, I thought we could take a moment-"
"Not tonight, Winona," said Mrs Weasley sternly. "It's time for bed."
Frustration and resentment bubbling in her gut like an overcooked potion, Winona whirled around on her. "I can speak to him if I want to," she snapped. "You're not our mother."
Mrs Weasley looked vaguely surprised that Winona had spoken back to her like that – and maybe a little bit hurt – but even still, her eyes tightened and she seemed to clench her jaw. "Bed, Winona," she said strictly. "Now."
Winona glared at her a moment, the anger in her gut hot and impossible to ignore. A terrible slew of insults and cruel replies burning on her tongue. Fred squeezed her hand tightly, and Harry spoke up before she could pick something to say.
"It's fine, Winnie," said her cousin, sounding resigned. She glanced over at him, but he didn't look tired at all. His eyes were wide open and sparkling with questions she knew he was just dying to ask. But there had been enough turmoil in Grimmauld Place for one night, and they both knew it. "It's late. We can talk in the morning."
Still, she was stubborn to a fault. "But-"
"Winona," said Mrs Weasley sternly, no give to her voice.
Clenching her jaw hard enough to hurt, Winona ripped her hand out of Fred's and spun so violently on her heel that her long hair nearly slapped Mrs Weasley across the face. "Fine," she snapped indignantly. "No need to escort me to my prison cell. I think I can find my way there well enough alone."
She didn't say another word to anybody else. She just stormed her way up the stairs, leaving the twins to deal with their mother.
Two flights of stairs later, Winona reached the fourth floor of her family's townhouse and stomped into her room, slamming the door shut behind her. She had the violent urge to break something, but managed to restrain herself. It would do her no good, and she'd acted out enough for one night.
Grinding her teeth together, Winona scowled as she mechanically got changed into a pair of cotton shorts and an old Guns N' Roses teeshirt. She yanked a brush through her hair on autopilot, then made her way to the bathroom she shared with Sirius to brush her teeth.
Seeing herself in the mirror, Winona thought she looked half crazed. Eyes wild and hair crackling with her emotionally-fuelled magic, she was almost a little bit afraid of herself. Spitting her toothpaste into the sink, she rinsed out her mouth then braced her hands on either side of the basin, forcing herself to take a few long, deep breaths. It had been a rough night, to say the least, and she was left feeling drained.
The anger began to slowly drain away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion, and with a heaving sigh she made her way back to her room. Sirius' door was still open, his room empty, and she assumed he was still down in the kitchen with Remus, debriefing after the night. She hated to think they were talking about her, but it was likely they were.
And she couldn't really blame them. She'd acted like a petulant child. Then again, so had Harry. What a pair they made.
It wasn't until she'd shut and bolted the door to her bedroom that she realised she wasn't alone. Fred was reclined on her bed, dressed in an old Holyhead Harpies teeshirt and his golden snitch boxers, hands folded behind his head as he watched her.
"What're you doing here?" she asked, even as relief seeped into her veins like a drug. She made her way towards him, not a single moment of hesitation as she climbed onto the bed with him and immediately wrapped her arms around his middle. Resting her head on his wiry chest, she threaded their legs together and felt no shame in breathing in his familiar, chaotic scent.
"Thought you could use the company," he told her quietly, arms wrapping around her in return, his chin resting easily on the crown of her head. "Are you okay?"
Winona didn't answer him, she just squeezed him tighter and nuzzled her face into his neck, as if maybe if she tried hard enough, she could escape inside of him, where she knew she could never be anything other than content.
"Sorry about Mum," he whispered, hand coming up to slowly brush through her hair. "She's just doing what she thinks is best – for all of us."
"She's wrong," Winona said into his skin.
"Maybe," he agreed. "But you can't deny she cares about you. Otherwise why would she bother at all?"
And she hated that he had a point. She made a face against his collarbone, and he chuckled when he felt her expression scrunch against his skin. "I care about her, too," she told him, barely a whisper, as if she didn't want anyone to hear her admit it. Not even the universe. "But she doesn't get to tell me what I can and can't do. Especially when it comes to Harry."
Fred ran his fingers through her hair again, and it felt so soothing that her eyes fluttered shut. "I know," he said placatingly.
They laid in silence for a few moments, his fingers carding through her hair, soft and constant. "What're you going to do if she finds out you're here with me?" Winona whispered eventually.
"I'm not going to do anything. We're adults, and you've had a huge day. You could use a friendly face. Besides, it's not like we're doing anything untoward," he said playfully as the hand not in her hair playfully pinched the skin at her hip.
Winona giggled into his neck, marvelling at how Fred could make the world seem kind, even when it sometimes felt like it was against her in every way possible. He made everything he touched better – including her. And she loved him so much she found it hard to breathe.
"We could do something…untoward," she suggested, overcome by affection as she pushed up onto her elbow to look him in the face.
Fred grinned even as he shook his head. "Sleep time," he said, pulling her back down into his side and shuffling them both down further into her bed. "We can get frisky another day."
"Frisky?" she giggled.
Fred's only answer was a snort and a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Winona stayed wrapped around him another long minute until finally she knew she had to get to sleep. She reluctantly got up to turn off the light, then they climbed under the covers and she wrapped around him like a pretzel, breathing in his earthy, ashy scent and letting the steady thump of his heart lull her to sleep.
Fred snuck back down to his own room in the early hours of the morning, before anybody was awake to catch him. Winona slept some more, waking up to Ginny knocking on her bedroom door to let her know breakfast was ready.
Winona got ready for the day, changing into jeans and a loose, woollen jumper, then braiding her hair against her head before making her way down the stairs for food. She fell still, however, when she reached Harry and Ron's shared room on the second floor.
Ron was nowhere in sight, and Harry was sitting on his bed, tying the laces of his old sneakers.
With no Mrs Weasley in sight, it was a golden opportunity. One she didn't intend to waste. Slipping inside the tiny room, Winona shut the door behind her with a soft click and Harry looked up in surprise. To her relief, he didn't seem annoyed to find it was her. If anything, he actually looked rather relieved, and she realised he must have been just as eager to speak with her as she had been to speak with him.
"Morning," she said, keeping her voice low. She knew from experience that Mrs Weasley would be down in the basement, fussing about with breakfast and making sure nobody was saying anything they shouldn't be. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough," Harry told her. "Weird dreams, though."
She frowned. "The foreboding kind?"
To her relief, he shook his head. "Just weird. I think this house is getting to me."
"Yeah," she agreed, casting the room a look. She hadn't been inside this bedroom before. The walls were grimy and peeling, and the light fittings were made of dark metal, twisted up into the shape of hissing serpents. "This place kind of freaked me out at first, too."
Harry said nothing, giving the room another look, a grimace at home on his face.
"Weird to think this is our family's house, isn't it?" she mused.
"Well, your family, maybe."
Hurt by the comment, Winona looked at him, eyes big and glinting sadly in the low light of the room. "My family is your family, Harry," she told him. "My last name might be Black, but we're both Potters, y'know."
Harry sighed, and she watched as he crossed his arms, chewing on his words before speaking them. "I know," he finally said, so quiet she nearly missed it. "It just didn't feel that way. I mean, the two of you have been here having a right old time as a family without me."
Winona took a deep breath, collapsing onto the bed Harry had stood from. "I wanted you here – we both did. It was Dumbledore who said you couldn't-"
"And you listened?" Harry asked, a little louder than before. Now he sounded angry. "Since when do you do as you're told?"
And she knew she had to be honest with him about the Vow. It was the only way he'd ever be able to understand why she – of all people, the only blood relative he had left – would keep secrets from him. Secrets he knew in his heart that he deserved to know.
"Remember when I said, last night, that I'd made a vow to Dumbledore, in return for being allowed in the Order?" she began gently. Harry stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, hanging on every word. "It wasn't any old promise, Harry. I made an Unbreakable Vow."
Now he frowned. "What's an Unbreakable Vow?"
"It's a spell – a magical oath that one person makes to another. Harry, if I break this Vow, I die."
Harry stared at her, vaguely horrified.
"Do you see now?" she asked desperately.
"Why would Dumbledore ever ask you to do that? And why in the hell would you agree?"
And Winona knew, this she could answer truthfully. "Because I was honest with him," she confessed. "I warned him that no matter how sincere of a promise I made, keeping secrets from you was something I couldn't do. Thus: the Vow. It was the only way to ensure I'd keep my word and not tell you anything."
Harry grew frustrated. "But why d'you have to be in the Order at all?"
The look she sent him was patient, and he grimaced, already knowing the answer. Nonetheless, she told him. "They need me. I can see the future, Harry. Do you have any idea what an asset that is in a war? Besides, I meant what I said. One of us has to work from the inside."
Harry stared at her, saying nothing, and she pressed on.
"You don't know most of the Order; which means you don't trust them. But I think you trust me – at least, I hope you do. And I'm always on your side Harry, no matter what. My priority is to protect you, and win this war for the good of us all. Wouldn't you rather I was in it, doing what I could from the inside? Because if you can't join, then aren't I the next best thing?"
Winona saw the moment he agreed with her point. His rigid shoulders slumped and the hands he'd balled into fists relaxed. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You're right." He looked up from the floor, meeting her eyes. "You'll really die if you tell me anything?"
She nodded her head gravely.
"Can you tell me anything at all?" he asked with just a hint of desperation.
When Winona smiled, it was grim. "A little; not much. I have to be careful. But don't worry, I spend most of my time in the meetings arguing that you're to be told what's going on. I think I'm getting on some people's nerves by going on about it, actually."
It was enough to draw a small smile from her cousin, and Winona stood to her feet, inching closer to him. He was an inch or so taller than her now, and it was a bittersweet feeling to have to tilt her head back to look him in the eye.
She remembered when they'd first met; him a tiny little kid with glasses too big for his face, and her with silver hair and a tongue too sharp for her own good. They'd been so different then, so oblivious to the future they were hurtling towards. She wondered what she'd tell those two kids, if she could go back. Would she warn them about the turmoil coming? Or would she simply let them remain blissful in their ignorance?
"I'm really sorry that it's happening this way, Harry," she told him, reaching for his hands. His skin was cold, and she squeezed them both, smiling hesitantly. "But please know, I'm doing this for you."
Harry looked a little bit stunned by her heartfelt admission, and he looked away a moment, gathering himself. "Yeah," he finally said, voice thick. "I know."
She let go of his hands and instead wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pushing up onto her toes to squeeze him tightly. "And you're part of this family," she said into his ear as his arms hesitantly wrapped around her middle in return. "Say it, Harry." Harry said nothing, and she pulled back, looking at him sternly. "Say it."
"Winnie…"
"I know it looks a little unconventional, but a family can be an escaped convict; his illegitimate, future-seeing daughter; her mouthy, four-eyed cousin; and a hippogriff with a fake identity."
It was just enough to make Harry smile. "You're counting Buckbeak?"
"Sirius loves him," she said with a grin. "He'd be offended if I didn't."
Harry shook his head, and she unwrapped her arms from around his neck, stepping back and smiling at him sweetly.
"You're not angry?" she asked hopefully.
"No," he said, voice small. "Just…tired."
It made her frown, but before she could ask what he meant, the floorboards outside his room creaked and the door burst open to reveal Mrs Weasley in the doorway, hands on her hips. She looked displeased to find them talking alone, as if they were doing something wrong, and indignation reared its head in Winona.
Mrs Weasley attempted a smile, but the disapproval in her eyes was impossible to mask. She opened the door wider, waving them out. "You'd best come down and have some breakfast before it's all gone," she said, forcing a light tone that neither of them bought.
Winona said nothing, she simply squeezed Harry's arm, a silent acknowledgement, then ducked past a frowning Mrs Weasley and made her way down the stairs without a word. Winona heard Harry and Mrs Weasley speaking in low voices as she left, but she didn't bother to stick around to eavesdrop. Let them say what they wanted – Winona was beyond caring.
The kitchen was abuzz with activity. Sirius and Remus were sat at the far end of the table, mugs of steaming coffee in front of them both. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins were all eating the crepes Mrs Weasley had made for breakfast, chatter coming easily, while Mr Weasley and Bill were discussing something in undertones over the top of a copy of the day's Prophet.
Winona took the empty seat between Fred and Hermione. She kissed Fred's cheek in good morning, then piled her plate high without a word. They were all talking about the latest Celestina Warbeck song. Ginny was passionate about how awful the woman's voice was, and the twins were making quiet fun of their mother's blind love of the woman.
"Did you sleep well?" Hermione asked her softly, not knowing who Celestina Warbeck was, but also no caring enough to figure it out. Winona nodded, piling her crepes high with strawberries and shovelling them into her mouth at a truly concerning speed. "You spoke with Harry this morning?"
Winona nodded again. "Yeah; we cleared the air. Went well, until their mother burst in and demanded we come down here," she muttered, jerking a chin at Fred and George, who were by now doing an overdramatic recreation of Warbeck's newest song, much to Ginny and Ron's delight.
"You can't stay mad at her forever," said Hermione gently.
"Watch me."
Hermione sighed, a soft sound, and put down her cutlery with a quiet clink. "You're angry, and I know why. I'd be angry too, in your position. But she's only doing what she thinks is right."
"Well, she's wrong," said Winona stubbornly, jabbing at a blueberry with her fork.
"Maybe," agreed Hermione. "But don't you think that, in this situation, right and wrong is just a matter of perspective?"
Winona pulled a face and stuffed her mouth with more food to avoid having to answer.
Harry and Mrs Weasley reappeared. Harry made a beeline for the empty chair on Ron's left, and Fred and George pulled Winona into a quiet conversation about the latest batch of Prophet orders.
Knowing their mother never read the Daily Prophet anymore, they'd been able to slip an advertisement into the paper with a little of the gold Harry had given them. They were now selling their Skiving Snackbox range through mail-order, and so far it had been wildly successful.
Mrs Weasley had no idea, of course, and if they wanted to keep doing it, things had to stay that way.
At some point Mr Weasley and Bill stood to their feet, bidding them all goodbye as they had to get going to be at work on time. Winona knocked fists will Bill as he passed, and he gave a grin that reminded her of Fred for a flash before he ducked out after his dad.
"All right," said Mrs Weasley eventually, once everyone had finished their breakfast and were sipping on warm cups of tea and coffee. She clapped her hands once to gain everyone's attention, and once she had, she pasted a wide smile onto her face that nobody believed. "Now, there's a rather large infestation of doxies in the drawing room that needs to be taken care of. I'm going to need all of you to help."
There was a series of groans from around the table, and Winona sank down in her seat, trying not to glower.
"I have plenty of Doxycide, but we'll need to cover our faces when we use it," she continued as though oblivious to the room's annoyance. "I've got tea towels for all of you. Come on, now," she prompted them. With great reluctance, the kids all stood to their feet. Winona did so too, gritting her teeth in frustration.
"Actually, Pup, you get a free pass for the day," said Sirius, and she looked over at him in surprise.
Mrs Weasley bristled where she was stood impatiently in the doorway. "Winona needs to pull her weight just as much as the rest of the children, Sirius-"
"Not today she doesn't," he interrupted her bluntly, his voice just barely scraping civil. "Orders from Dumbledore. He wants a meditation session."
Winona groaned, and Harry turned to them in confusion. "What's a meditation session?"
"It's what they call it when they have me scan the future," she told Harry freely. It wasn't exactly a secret, and even if it was, fuck it all, anyway. "Dumbledore likes to have me on alert; particularly if we have intel about something happening in Death Eater circles-"
"That's quite enough, Winona," snapped Mrs Weasley. "Why don't you go get started, then come down to help once you're finished?"
She began to shoo her children, Harry and Hermione out of the kitchen. Fred gave a playful whine and she blew him a kiss in return. Once the group was gone, corralled upstairs by an obstinate Mrs Weasley, Winona collapsed back into her chair. The only ones left in the room were Remus and her dad, and they looked at her with something dangerously close to pity.
"What?" she asked in more of a bark than anything else.
"You should be kinder to her, Winnie," said Remus with the patience of a saint.
"Screw that," scoffed Sirius. "When she's out of line, Winnie's been calling her on it. She's acting like she's their guardian, Moony. It's not right."
Remus nodded slowly as his best friend spoke. "I know, Pads," he said in the soothing voice of someone who'd had this conversation more than once. "But she really does want what's best for them – and I'm not saying she's going about it the right way!" he hurried to add when Sirius scowled and opened his mouth to argue. "But if anything, it only proves she loves Harry and Winnie just the same as the rest of us."
Sirius made a face but didn't argue. Winona rocked back on the legs of her chair, sighing quietly. She'd only just woken up and already she was ready to head back to bed. "So, what information does the Great and Powerful Oz want from me today?"
"Oz?" asked Sirius.
"She means Dumbledore," said Remus with a roll of his eyes. He'd been raised by his Muggle mother, so he knew a great deal more about Muggle culture than Sirius – who had been raised only by Pure-bloods his whole life. The closest Sirius came to Muggle pop culture was his love of classic rock music, but even that had only been born out of rebelliousness against his heritage.
"He just wants you scanning the aether generally," Sirius told her, also rocking back on his chair. Remus rolled his eyes at them both; more alike than they'd ever admit.
Sirius had quickly become used to the vocabulary of Winona's visions. It warmed her than he accepted it so easily. He didn't think she was a freak; or worse, an oracle. She was just Winona, his loud-mouthed daughter. And she loved it that way.
"I think there's some unease in the giant tribes up north," Sirius continued, taking another large slurp of his coffee. "Dumbledore didn't mention it, but I can tell the news of it bothered him. Maybe keep your third eye out for anything on that?"
Rolling her eyes at his cheesy grin, Winona tossed a stray blueberry at her dad, only for him to catch it soundly in his mouth. He held his hand up for a high five from Remus, who turned away from him dismissively. Winona laughed, dropping her chair back down onto all its legs with a click.
"All right," she said, standing to her feet and stretching her arms high above her head until her spine popped. "I'll head up to my office, shall I?"
"Do you want any company?" Sirius offered, as he always did, even knowing what her answer would be. She'd come to expect it, and found it sweet. He knew she worked better when she was alone, but he offered anyway; just to show he cared. It was endearing.
"Thanks, but the less distractions the better," she told him with a small smile.
"Well, someone might want to tell your boyfriend that," said Sirius slyly, referring to the day the week earlier when she was meant to be scanning the aether for information on the happenings of Malfoy Manor, but when Remus had come in to check on her, he'd found she and Fred intertwined on the couch – halfway towards the opposite of a meditation session.
"That was one time," she muttered, cheeks pink.
Remus and Sirius laughed, but Winona ignored them as she left the room. The others were all using what she'd begun to refer to as her 'studio' – the drawing room on the first floor that housed all her canvases, paints and supplies. It was the room Mrs Weasley had decided on cleaning today, which meant she was banished to her room.
She stopped off at the drawing room to collect her herbal candles, spending the whole walk there dreading seeing Mrs Weasley again. To her terrible surprise, Mrs Weasley was already stood outside the door, arms full of Winona's multicoloured candles.
"Mrs Weasley," Winona said, coming to a stop in front of her, unsure.
Mrs Weasley looked hesitant, like she was half convinced Winona would whip out her wand and curse all her hair off. "I knew you'd be wanting your candles, to help with the – the…" she trailed off, making a general gesture with her hands. Unlike Sirius, she wasn't yet down with the lingo.
"Thanks," said Winona dispassionately, taking the armful of candles from her with care.
"Sorry that we're using your space for the day," Mrs Weasley continued before Winona could make a speedy getaway. "But think of how lovely and clean it will be once we're done," she said, a hopeful smile on her face.
But it wasn't an apology for anything that actually mattered, and Winona wasn't ready to let it go yet. "Sure," she said, impassive, and a shadow was cast over Mrs Weasley's hopeful expression.
"Winona, I hope you know, what I said last night… I want only the best for Harry – and for you – and I know you don't like to hear it, but I don't believe involving either of you in this war is what's best. I'm sorry if I upset you."
It seemed heartfelt enough, but Winona still wasn't in the mood to hear it. "And how does that excuse saying you're more of a parent to us than Sirius, because he's been wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban all these years?"
Mrs Weasley looked uncomfortable now, cheeks a soft red. "I didn't mean it like that, dear…"
"I think you did," said Winona, voice edge with steel. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go. I have orders from Dumbledore; and of course you wouldn't dare disagree with him like you do Sirius, would you?"
Mrs Weasley didn't seem to know what to say, but that was kind of the intention. Winona spun on her heel and disappeared up to her bedroom where she bolted the door, lit over a dozen candles, then escaped eagerly into the river of time.
A/N: Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed this one. This was a special upload to tide you guys over for another few weeks before the next one. I'm not going back into my usual upload schedule just yet. Thank you all for being so understanding – it's such a relief to know I have you guys in my corner, even when life beats me down. See you again soon with another new chapter!
Spotlight review of the week goes to: This Muse – Your review on the last chapter was an absolute joy to read, and I'm so thrilled you ended up liking my story after all! Thank you so much for taking the time to let me know what you thought – in such detail! - and, between you and me, let's just say that the Minister's High Seer offer is still on the table, and hasn't been forgotten by Fudge – or by me.