Disclaimer: I own nothing, owned nothing, will own nothing… do you get it yet?

Also, because I don't want to confuse anybody, this is set after the book but before the epilogue (which will probably be dispensed of entirely), and Winnie's about 17 years old.

A sharp bang woke Winnie immediately, and confused her almost as quickly. What was that? A sort of thudding-cracking, combined, like pebbles flung at glass. Perhaps, thought Winnie, that was what it was. But still, why throw rocks at her window, especially at this hour? She didn't even know what hour it was. She tiptoed outside her room and peeked at the hall clock, which seemed to think it was about two-thirty in the morning.

Though the clock certainly would have reprimanded her had it been awake and indeed able, Winnie slipped back into her bedroom and shut the door. Picking up a large book from her bedside table to shield her face, she cautiously crept towards the window and opened it just a bit. A rock flew at her but the book (which, she later found out, was in fact the holy bible) stopped it promptly upon entering the cottage. She slid the window all the way up, and (having still not noticed which book exactly she was holding) threw the leather-bound pack of paper through it at what was apparently a stone-launching young male standing beneath her window on the grass.

"What are you, trying to kill me?" There was a vaguely familiar laugh from outside. Winnie tried to place it, failing miserably. As she groped around on her bedside table for a candle, her hand fell upon a small bottle, devoid now of all but memories. Jesse Tuck.

Not a one-shot… unless nobody likes it. So if you like it and want more, you should review, because otherwise it probably will be a one-shot. And I'm sorry it's so short, but I'm putting the idea out there and if there's a good response I'll try to make the rest longer.