Her face is an array of blue and green when her seventeenth birthday greets her like an old friend, weary and with little comfort as it hugs her.

She awakes in the blinding light of a hospital wing, her bones aching and her forehead caught in a cold shiver. Winnie remembers little of the night before besides sleep greeting her as she curled up into a ball of white. The transformation was painless besides the breaking of her bones. There was no scratching or yelping. The bruise forming against her chest must've been from the shift back into a girl. Though she admits, she has little memory of both.

It is not the pain in her cheek. However, that surprises her the most. Cordelia sits next to her with a box in her lap and a soft smile on her face. Winnie hasn't seen a smile so sweet from her cousin in months. She thinks for a moment she may be dead. Then the aroma of medical supplies and herbs greets her nostrils, burning her throat as she swallows, and she knows she is not dead. Not with the aching in her bones and the warmth of her skin so feverous she feels as if she is burning.

"Happy birthday!" Cordelia greets, voice singing like a humming board as the redhead holds the brown box towards her. A light blue ribbon tied around its middle to form a boy, Winnie, who is never quite well enough in the mornings after a full moon, winches at her cousin's voice. "Oh, sorry. I should be quieter."

'No, no. It's okay," Winnie hummed through gritted teeth. She could use some more sleep and perhaps some potions to cure the achiness of her bone. She never thought turning seventeen would come with such an annoyance until now. 'Thank you," Winnie added lightly as she sat up, moving her feathered pillow up further against the metal headboard before she stuck out her hand for the box. Cordelia, whose face was coated with a flush, quickly handed her the box.

Winnie gently tugged the ribbon, nimble fingers slipping beneath the box fold to push the cover off. The smell hit her first, making her stomach hiss with hunger as sweetness drolled inside her mouth. Her heart, however, sank deep within the floorboards.

Inside the box sat nine perfectly shaped hearts, pink frosting covering the sugar cookies with black strikes surrounding it like a border. They were lovely, appearing similar to the ones her parents would send her on her birthday, only now, they did nothing but remind her of a boy who didn't know the difference between salt and sugar.

"Do you like them?" Cordelia's voice seemed a thousand miles away, while Winnie's throat grew thick with a lump and her fingers squeezed the corners of the box as if letting go would break the dampness in her eyes. Swallowing thickly, she blinked back the tears in her eyes as she forced her lips to turn upwards, clenching even tighter as she looked up at her cousin.

"They're lovely, Lia, thank you," Winnie did not lie, they were lovely, and she could see how much they meant to Cordelia without even asking. Cordelia's shoulders deflated with relief while Winnie's filled with sadness, one that she is afraid she will never actually be able to shake. "Would you like to try one?"

"It's your birthday! You have to have one first," Cordelia argued, addressing the box with a hand wave. Winnie glanced at the cookies again, her mouth watered with a hunger for the taste of the cookies, but her stomach and heart could not muster the courage to shove last year's thoughts down. Last year, Theo gifted her these cookies, and yes, they tasted horrid, but they came from him. With his smiling dimples and curly hair that dusted across his forehead, they danced in his eyes. Theo, who she once swore she hated, now she can't help but love him so deeply that it kills her inside to watch him with someone else.

So no, she can not eat these cookies.

"I can't eat right away after a full moon. I will only yurl into a waste pin. I wanna save myself from that distasteful fate," the lie slipped through her teeth like butter, far too sweet and genuine for anyone to question. Cordelia did not blink an eye, only frowned as she relaxed deeper into her chair.

'Well, I will still not be eating one. The first one should be yours when you can eat," Cordelia argued simply. Winnie forced her lips to continue smiling as she nodded. Agreeing only for peace, she slipped the box close, laying them softly on the small, round table beside her. Only she knew she would never touch them again, her heart could not bare it, even if they were simple cookies.

"So, what do you have planned for the Room of-"

"There will be no Room of Requirement tonight," Cordelia cut her off, a smile dancing across her pointed features as Winnie's face faltered. Her already bleeding heart seemed to gust out with profound grief. "Well, there will be. We'll just be having a party beforehand," Cordelia gushed, reaching to squeeze Winnie's hands as if she had just shared world-breaking news.

Only Winnie replied with a groan and a frown lacing her lips," that seems fun Lia, but I can not enjoy it like you can. How is that fun for me?" Perhaps a part of her was being selfish; clearly, Cordelia was excited about this, for this was the most Cordelia Flint had ever smiled. It buzzed off of her in waves, slowly curing Winnie's aching heart, only being replaced with bitterness. At the last party she went to, she had left with a pounding head, smelling of Firewhiskey that could not get her drunk and ended up kissing her best friend.

Winnie Buldstrode does not repeat that night, especially on her birthday.

"Because I found out a way to get you drunk!" Cordelia clapped, voice lowered to save themselves from getting caught by the adults that patrolled the area, checking on injured Quidditch players or ill students who kept throwing up in a waste bin. Winnie's eyebrows furrowed against her head, and Cordelia's smile radiated against her face like she had never spent a day not smiling. "You must drink muggle whiskey, or at least I heard. It sounds bizarre and bloody insane but I smuggled some in, so we're going to try." Winnie sat, blinking in shock as she listened to Cordelia's words; unbidden, a laugh left her mouth. Her hand shot up to cover it as Cordelia stopped talking, watching her silently as more laughs began to leave Winnie's lips. Her stomach grew tight with an ache as tears prickled the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but-" she paused, fanning herself as she tried to halt the laughter that wished to bubble up inside her chest. "You're telling me I must drink muggle whiskey to get tipsy? Is this for real?"

Cordelia, who seemed not to understand what was so funny, shrugged as she sniffed, "I mean. It is worth a try." Her words made Winnie bubble out with laughter more as she covered her face with her hands, head leaning back against the cool metal of the bedframe. Her hands fell from her face, her chest rolling with an ache from her laughter as she stared at the ceiling.

"The world is so cruel," Winnie mumbled, seemingly lost for words. She lived with a prudent curse that destroyed her very name, yet a muggle solution was the answer to numbing it. Winnie did not hate muggles for any reason. They were simply people without magic. In other life, she could be one of them, and yet, even with magic, witches and wizards could not find werewolves something to drink to loosen their tongues and confuse their minds.

She supposes they also do not care about werewolves. Therefore, why would the wizarding world do anything to help them?

" You do not have to drink it," Cordelia's words bring Winnie's attention back towards her, spotting a frown laced upon her cousin's lips. It's a harsh reminder of their life, how far they have stretched from each other. They can talk as if no time has passed, as if life did not happen and did not separate them. But their separation existed in misunderstandings, Cordelia did not understand Winnie's disbelief and pain, and Winnie did not understand why Cordelia seemed so saddened by her reaction.

They were stranded, just on different islands.

"Obviously, I'll try it. Why would I not?" Winnie quetsioned, head tilting as her eyebrows pinched against her face. The humour that once lived in her chest faded away to nothing as she watched Cordelia raise her eyebrows, a tilt of her cousin's head, neither one understanding the other.

"Oh well, good, I'll bring the bottle when it starts tonight," Cordelia clicked her tongue against the top of her mouth as she finished speaking, Winnie who was growing tired of this restless conversation, felt as if she was a thousand miles away from her beloved cousin, twisted herself so she could lay on her side, dragging the pillow with her.

"Great, now, if you don't mind, I should sleep," Winnie dismissed her cousin, ignoring the way Cordelia's shoulders straightened. The way her mouth twisted into a frown before the redhead nodded, pushing back her chair and shaking.

"Right, well, I shall see you later this evening, sleep well, Winnie," Cordelia's footsteps clicked after her as she left, leaving Winnie alone with numbness and a box of cookies that would go uneaten. Even now, as she lay on her side, her eyes drifted towards it. It was bizarre how such small fruitless things could hold enough weight to feel as if her entire being was shattering. As her eyes stung with tears of what once was, she rolled over onto her back, making her vision stray away from the brown box.

Oh, how she wished for that whiskey to work.

༺♥༻

        She found herself standing in a room that once resembled the calmness of a crackling fire, and now, it blared with music she could not say she had heard before. The room was lit by candles only as the aroma of sweat and firewhiskey drifted around her nostrils, making her crinkle her nose in disgust.

Finding out her party was being thrown in the Gryffindor Common Room was both a blessing and a curse. At least she was close to her bed, but she was sure people would not be trickling out of her comfort home will until the early hours of the morning.

However, Winnie was even more surprised that Hermione Granger had planned most of that night.

'Won't this go against your plan of getting Head Girl/" Winnie yelled at the busy-haired female, glancing around the room with a smile. However, her eyes held a certain air of authority, as if anyone who raised their hand to do anything besides drink or dance would be kicked out immediately.

"Only if it got out of hand or the Professors found out I was behind it," Hermione's voice carried over the music that blends the sounds of their voices. "Which is why I enchanted everything to shut down at midnight; that way, people have no choice but to leave," Hermione shrugged, grinning as Winnie snorted, swinging an arm around the shorter girl's shoulders—feeling Hermione hug her by drawing her arm across her waist.

The duo's side hug was squashed closer together as Harry Potter came up behind him, wrapping his arms around their waist and dragging them close to his chest. The smell of firewhiskey greeted Winnie's senses, cinnamon and an acidic tint, Winnie's head fell against his shoulder, feeling Harry press a sloppy kiss to her forehead. She usually would cringe, having the urge to wipe her forehead, but this was Harry, and she had not seen him this carefree in a while,

"Harry!" Hermione laughed, brushing off the raven-haired boy's arm while Winnie stayed tucked to his side, the boy's chest radiating with laughter. Winnie watched as Hermione's face brightened, stuck with a permanent smile as her brown eyes twinkled with adoration. Harry's face was slightly obscured by the corner of his jaw and how she was tucked against his side. His happiness, however, was deafening. She felt it in the way he held her so tightly, the way berries and vanilla burst in her mouth.

Winnie thought for a moment that even if the whiskey did not work on here, this dreadful party would be worth it if it meant Harry could be happy.

"Happy Birthday, sweet Winifred," Harry sang, kissing the corner of her cheek as Winnie snorted, pushing him away.

'You know not to call me that, Harry," she warned, though her words held little malic, green eyes rolling in front of her.

"It is your name; there is nothing wrong with it," Harry commented, a slight bubbliness to his words that reelected the voice of a young child on Christmas morning. It was purely adorable, and a smile could not help but fight its way onto her face.

"It is ugly. Winnie is better," Winnie rolled her own eyes, scanning the crowd as she spotted a short-haired redhead standing a hesitant distance away, forced to stand miles away with Harry so close. Winnie's smile faltered, finding herself looking towards Harry, who seemed to sober in a single glace. He stood tenser, with icy green eyes against the tan of his skin.

Cordelia moved on, with her arms wrapped around a boy with a thousand ex-stepfathers while Harry was stranded alone. Winnie could never have either in her heart simultaneously, and there was simply not enough room for the almost lovers. They were lost to the sea where most forgotten things went.

Winnie's heart would not break for him, for she felt a sense of belonging on his stranded island, for she, too, had been stranded.

"You should go. She'd want to spend time with you. I'll find you later," Harry mumbled, brushing his shoulder against hers, Winnie's mouth opened to argue that she wanted them both by her side on her birthday, but Harry was already drifting to the crowd. Leaving her one side cold and alone while her wayward cousin slowly occupied the other.

"He seems sad," Cordelia commented softly, their shoulders brushing as Winnie sighed deeply. She did not wish to discuss Harry with Cordelia. Harry was a sacred person in their lives. Not so long ago, Cordelia fought by their sides, but her loyalty seemed to lay elsewhere now, while Winnie's never weathered.

She supposed life tends to do that.

"Well, let's try that whiskey, shall we," Winnie was swift at changing the topic, and if Cordelia noticed, she did not say anything more. Instead, she grinned, her smile hiding her teeth as her fingers grasped Winnie's. She tugged her through the crowd, hands intertwined like little kids again running through a field towards their tree.

Winnie urged her heart to not feel bitter over the closeness they no longer share.

They halted against a table decorated in pink and red hearts. Winnie ignored the unoriginality of Valentine's day decorations for her birthday party. She supposed it was a curse she had to settle with for one day a year. Cordelia turned around after a moment, a clear plastic cup in her hands with amber liquid sloshing around inside, a smile on her face. Intrigued, Winnie grasped the cup, taking a tiny sniff at the substance. The acidic smell was still strong, and the cinnamon that usually occupied Firehwiskey was absent, despite the muggle liquid appearing similar to the wizarding one. As she raised an eyebrow towards Cordelia, who stood expectantly at her, Winnie sighed. Here goes nothing.

Winnie greeted the liquid in her mouth as it burned a trail down her throat, stinging her eyes as she sputtered. Liquid trailed down the corners of her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut, holding her cup with one hand and swiping at her lips and chin with the other. Cordelia's laughter reached her ears as Winnie coughed, opening her eyes enough to see her cousin hide her laughter with a smile.

"This taste bloody awful," Winnie complained, a small smile twisting onto her features as Cordelia snorted.

"Well, let's hope it works then," Winnie didn't have much more to say after that, for Cordelia made her chug the rest of the bitter contents. Before, her cousin filled her cup and then tugged her onto the dance floor, where people were moving quite awkwardly, each damped by the effects of whatever they had chosen to drink that night.

For a while, when the taste started to no longer bother her, when she found her head started to go fuzzy, and her cheeks to growl flush and warm to the touch, Winnie found herself being able to pretend that she was a simple teenage girl celebrating her seventeenth birthday. That she did not have blood in her veins that turned on her once a month or a war looming over her head that could leave her in a puddle of blood.

She could pretend that her heart did not ache every day.

The thing about pretending was that the act did not always last, and hers faltered when she ran into Theo Nott in the loo.

The smile that seemed so transfixed onto her face that night vanished, and her head swam with bubbles of warmth and grew colder as she gazed upon the emerald eyes of her almost lover. A hiccup leaves her mouth, making her blush as she holds the door open, "you can leave now." her voice is shaky, words rushed and wavering in between hiccups as Theo stands next to the sink, the smell of vanilla, feeling the air from the handsoap.

"You have the hiccups," Winnie is surprised to hear how his voice wavers. His actions are sloppier, almost missing the hook where the hand towel lays. The blonde had seen him enter the party, though she shouldn't be surprised he was there. She had run into several Slytherins downstairs, pretending they did not have a stubborn rivalry.

"Leave," she demands again, her voice trying to mirror one of authority, lips straightening to a line. Her hand clasps the door handle, using that to keep her body straight as she watches him with wondering eyes. She wants him to leave; she really does not. Theo does not move nor speak for a moment; instead, he watches her with closed-off eyes, eyes she both hates and adores. There is tension in the air, so thick she can taste it on the tip of her tongue. It makes her have the urge to squirm, to shield her eyes from his. Winnie did not pee; she simply wanted a moment alone from the sweaty bodies downstairs. Solitude seems far more frightening than being pushed against others now; she wants to run.

However, Winnie does not satisfy him by running away, and it seems that Theo wants to play.

Winnie wonders briefly if this is a test, feeling like a lamb under a lion's eye as he eventually walks so close that she has to walk into the door. He steps closer, and she feels her entire body set inflamed, tense and rigid as she grips the door knob tighter. The clicking of the door shutting is the only sound reaching her ears as she stares up at him. There is nothing in his eyes. They are cold and empty, making her heart hammer in her chest. She wants him to feel and see the pain she feels written across his face. He wants him to crumple on his knees before her and ask for her forgiveness.

'Theo," she mumbled, followed by a hiccup that should clear the air, should make a laugh bubble between them. A different version of themselves might laugh, but they are older. They are burdened by the hardness of life that has not been very kind to them. There are a thousand words unspoken between them, a thousand whispers of heartache and touches that have gone unshared.

Winnie knows she should tell him to leave once more, knows she should hex him for the spite of it all, but he is so close. Winnie can see specks of amber in his eyes and violet that dance under his eyes, the only sign of something wrong with him.

"Happy birthday Winnie," he whispers, close enough that she can feel the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her breath catches in her throat as he reaches up, fingers caressing the rough silver claw marks on her face. The smoothness of the door behind her back cools her body, making her acutely aware of the flush that kisses her skin. His eyes meet her own as his fingers dance down her face, following the curve of her jaw to the side of her throat. His other hand crawled up her arm, holding her so gently. His finger prodded her pulse point, where he no doubt felt her heart slamming in her chest as his hands cupped the sides of her neck. Thumbs brushed soft strokes against her jaw as she swallowed thickly.

Winnie felt the urge to cry, her eyes prickling with emotion. How could a person be so gentle with her but carelessly break her heart?

"I hate you," she muttered, words tasting sour on her tongue as she spat them out. Her eyes were watering as Theo continued the soft stroking movement with his thumbs. It had hurt her all the same to speak it, and she wondered if he killed her now, would he miss her with a deep, paralyzing ache to his bones.

"Good, I hope you do," he whispers, fingers squeezing the sides of her neck, eyes wavering against the curve of her lips. In a moment of pure weakness, Winnie lifted herself taller, feeling her lips brush against his softer ones. She chewed hers out of pain, and he hurt himself inside. A tightness grew deep within her stomach as he brushed his lips against hers, almost kissing but yet so far away.

He pulled away quickly, his entire body recoiled away from her, and she felt his departure deep within her bones. Her eyes broke while he wavered, the taste of despair rich on her tongue for no longer than a second before it disappeared after him as he left the loo without a second glance. Her shoulders shook with her shuddering breath as if he took her very oxygen with her, robbing her of her will to live.

Theo Nott has burned her. His touch writes poetry in her heart. Her hands grow tight against her chest as if pressing them against her heart will cure it of its pain.

It does not.

— winnie's birthday is always a day where i say 'fuck everything' and pretend that the norms of the wizarding world does not exist. would hermione probably throw a party? no. would the gryffindor's & slytherin's exist in a room without making it painfully awkward? no. would muggle whiskey get a werewolf tipsy? who knows!! that's the fun of fanfiction, i can do whatever i want!!
— one thing to bring up is that i used to not be writing this story alone. winnie's story is 100% mine and so is her plot with theo. but cordelia flint is not my character, i have never needed to put myself into her mind. she had her own story written by zoe ( i love you ) and they were in charge of planning her and developing her. due to circumstances, her story is not being written anymore. which now leaves a character i have personally never needed to plan out in my hands. which is why cordelia might seem a little odd or out of character as of late. it is because i am now trying to figure her out and try to mend her into simply into winnie's story now 💌💌
— sigh theo and winnie's scene 💔💔 some of you might really hate him now which is okay. but theo again is primarily an original character. yes, his name is in the canon verse, but we know little about him. what i love about writing theo or reading theo fics is that this man continually alters throughout different versions depending on how the writer sees him. i made him a very complex character that lives in my head, many things have not be revealed. the way he acts, things he says is composed of years of developing him. i could easily make this story an oc x oc with how much i have created this whole ass man in my head. BUT he is theo nott, my version at least <3
— okay! now i shall exit out because i need a break from everything but i was really vibing with this chapter today so i finished it. i love you all xoxo