came around quickly enough, though that just might be Margaret feeling overwhelmed by the events of the past month.

Discover the existence of the Wizarding World? Check.

Turn out to be a witch? Check.

Get your Hogwarts letter at 16? Check.

Get a wand and practice magic with a werewolf, an Auror and an ex-convict straight from Azkaban although the werewolf kicked the Auror and ex-convict off the teaching team because they were goofing around too much? Check check.

So certainly, given the dramatics of her new life, Margaret Xenakis should be more than comfortable running through a wall in a muggle-filled station, right?

Wrong.

Trolley gripped tightly, trunk placed on it along with a shoulder bag on top, Margaret couldn't help but watch in amazement and fear as Harry Potter and his friends ran straight into the third pillar between Platform 9 and Platform 10 on the famous Kingscross Station.

When they had arrived, Harry had briefly disappeared with Sirius, halting their little party in their tracks to wait for him. Margaret knew that Sirius just wanted to say goodbye to his godson and give him the photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. The time they took gave her an opportunity to admire the station. Safe to say, she was very impressed with British architecture.

"Come on now, Margie," begins Fred with the ridiculous nickname he had given the girl.

"You're next," George finishes, gesturing to the said pillar.

Noticing the look of hesitation, Molly Weasley was quick to come to her rescue with a comforting smile.

"Here," she says, pointing at the pillar with another hand on Margaret's shoulder. "You will go straight through."

Nodding once, holding the ever-composed expression in place, Margaret approached the line of the stone pillar. Eyeing it, she took one step towards it, then two, before breaking into a sprint as she had seen the others do, her trolley creaking along in front of her. She shut her eyes tightly, heart thudding loudly against her ribcage but the awaited impact never came.

Margaret was quick to open her eyes when the smell of coal smoke burned into her nostrils, not too much that it was uncomfortable. She slowed down to a walk when she heard the commotion of muggle Kingscross turned into a loud and blaring horn of a steam engine - ones that were uncommon where she was from.

If she had been impressed by muggle Kingscross, then the wizard one left her gobsmacked with awe. It was truly that beautiful; with ancient pillars, the crowd of witches and wizards and even some muggles who were here to wave their children off to school. On one of the pillars, a board was hung that said: 'Platform 9 ¾' and Margaret stared up at it in amazement.

Open-mouthed, the time-traveller stared at the enormous black engine and the red chimney, a bronze plate saying 'Hogwarts Express' in front of it, glimmering under the sunlight pouring in from the glassed windows and parts of the roof.

She really was here, wasn't she?

She came back to her senses and placed her trolley in the line where all students stationed theirs, knowing that her well-labelled trunk would find its way into the train with the help of the porters, and then to her new dorm in Hogwarts with the help of magic. She grabbed the shoulder bag from the top that contained her robes, a book, her diary, her wallet and some food and water for the journey.

Looking about the place that she had read about so many times in the books, the girl bumped into the familiar frizzy-haired bookworm, who was quick to recognise her.

"Margaret, well done, you did it!" Hermione praises with a happy smile, her honey-brown eyes holding nothing but kindness, prompting the awestruck girl to grin back.

Beside Hermione stood the other two of the Trio. The redhead smiled in greeting, however, the raven-haired boy looked straight past Margaret to something or someone behind her.

Curious to see what it was that was clearly bothering him, Margaret turned her head almost missing when Harry rubbed his scar uncomfortably; an action that was missed by both his friends as they got swarmed by Mrs Weasley's teary goodbyes. Mr Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Moody and Sirius in his Animagus form, were there too.

Margaret frowned at Harry, knowing very well about what he had seen. Taking tentative steps towards him, she spoke in a low tone that Harry was surprised he could still hear despite the noise around them.

"It's in your head, Harry. Not here."

Harry's head snapped towards the new girl, shocked by her words but got distracted when Dean Thomas suddenly appeared from nowhere and complimented Harry on his dog while Margaret turned to give Mrs Weasley an equally tight hug for once.

Snuffles just barked loudly, his tail wiggling rapidly as Harry kneeled to give the big dog a hug.

"I'll see you soon, Padfoot," he promises.

Margaret had already boarded the train with Hermione, Ron and Ginny, all having said their goodbyes to the Weasleys and the members of the Order. Harry's the last one to get on, waving at the adults, just as the warning horn blares.

"Er, Ron and I have to go to the Prefect's compartment. But we'll be back soon, we just have to collect the instructions from the Head Boy and Head Girl," Hermione informs as the train leaves the station. "We'll be back soon, I promise."

Ron wasn't looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in his fingernails.

"Oh. Right. Well, you better get going then," says Harry, looking around as if to find an empty compartment.

"We don't want to- I'd rather- I'm not enjoying it, I don't want to patrol the train. I'm not Percy," Ron says defensively, casting an anxious look at Harry.

"I know you're not," Harry grins. "Go on then."

The two didn't talk further, bidding their goodbyes to Margaret and Ginny, who finished her talk with the third year and turned around to smile at remaining two.

"Come on," Ginny tells them, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

"Right," says Harry, picking up Hedwig's cage.

They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-panelled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full.

Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their friends and pointed him out. After he had met this behaviour in five consecutive compartments, he remembered that the Daily Prophet had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off he was. He wondered briefly whether the people now staring and whispering believed those stories.

In the very last carriage, they met Neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his very large backpack along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.

"Hi, Harry," he pants. "Hi, Ginny. Hi..."

"Margaret," the girl replies with a smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Y-you as w-well... uh, ev-everywhere's full... I-I can't find a seat..." Neville stammers.

"What are you talking about?" questions Ginny, peering in the compartment behind her. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here-"

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

"Don't be silly," says Ginny, laughing. "She's alright."

She slid the door open. "Hi, Luna. Is it okay if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. She had messy, waist-length, platinum-blonde hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Her eyes travelled over Neville and came to rest on Harry before she blinked at Margaret.

Luna nodded.

"Thanks," Ginny smiles.

They sat down, with Margaret taking the window seat opposite Luna and beside Harry, who sat next to Neville and in front of Ginny.

Maybe it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear, or that she was wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down, but Luna gave off an aura of distinct dottiness.

Which made Margaret instantly like her all the more.

The pale-haired girl watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as she stared and stared at Harry, making him wish that he had not chosen to sit in the same compartment as her.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asks conversationally.

"Yes," answers Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she adds.

"I know I am," says Harry.

Neville chuckled and Luna turned her pale eyes upon him instead.

"And I don't know who you are," she turned to Margaret. "Or you."

"I'm Margaret Xenakis. I moved here this summer from Canada," she introduces with a smile.

Luna nods slowly. "Nice accent."

"I- Thank you...?"

"I'm nobody," says Neville, rapidly shaking his head.

"No you're not," interrupts Ginny sharply. "This is Neville Longbottom. Neville, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

Now that the introductions were done, Luna hummed a tune to herself and raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face. Harry and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised and Ginny suppressed a giggle, her eyes meeting Margaret's amused ones.

The train rattled onward, speeding them out into the open country fields. Margaret opened up her sweets packets and shared them around, even offering some to Luna, who shook her head and disappeared behind her magazine again.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?" says Neville when the compartment fell silent again. Margaret looked up while closing her water bottle.

"Another Remembrall?" asks Harry, remembering the marble-like device that Neville's grandmother had sent him in an effort to improve his terrible memory.

"No," replies Neville almost thoughtfully. "I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago... No, look at this..."

He dug his free hand that was not keeping a firm grip on Trevor the toad, into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging, pulled out what appeared to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except that it was covered with what looked like boils rather than spines.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," he declares proudly.

Harry stared at the thing. It was quivering slightly, giving it the rather evil look of some diseased internal organ rather than a plant. Margaret scrunched up her face at the sight of it, being reminded of the terrible biology practicals she had to endure a few months ago. Ginny shifted away a bit, trying to put as much distance between herself and the plant.

"It's really, really rare," Neville continues, beaming. "My great-uncle Algie got it for me. I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

Margaret knew that Neville's favourite subject was Herbology, but for the life of her, she could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant.

Harry shared an equally bewildered look with Margaret before looking back at his classmate.

"Does it do anything?" Harry ask uncertainly.

"Lots of stuff!" says Neville proudly. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism- hold Trevor for me..."

He dumped the toad into Harry's lap - who struggled to grip onto the slimy creature - and took a quill from his schoolbag. Luna Lovegood's curious eyes appeared over the top of her upside-down magazine again, watching what Neville was doing. Neville held the mimbulus mimbletonia up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth and chose his spot.

Margaret nearly choked over her words, remembering what would happen if he did what she thought he was going to do.

"NO!" she yells suddenly.

The sudden yell made Harry jump in fright, resulting in freeing Trevor from his grip, Neville almost dropped his ill-looking plant and Ginny stared at her with wide startled eyes. Luna barely moved her dreamy gaze from Neville to Margaret.

"Uh- I... I have... read somewhere, that, um, if you do that, it could damage the plant. I just realized... I'm sorry."

Before any of them could get a word out, the compartment door opened.

"Oh... hello, Harry," greets a nervous-looking Asain girl. Her eyes widened for a split second before the toad jumped at her face. "ARGH! GET IT OFF-"

Neville carefully set down the vile plant and hurriedly joined Ginny, who had already gotten to her feet, in helping get Trevor the toad off the poor girl's face.

Harry just sat there with his mouth open as Neville finally got his pet safe in his hands.

"Well..." pants Cho, looking positively traumatised. "I just thought I'd say hello... okay, bye."

Just as quickly she had come, she disappeared too, blushing brightly at having been embarrassed by a toad jumping at her and her shrieking in response, right in front of her crush.

Margaret cringed to herself, feeling a tad bit bad. But it was either this or Harry and everyone else including herself covered in Stinksap, greeting a nervous Cho. But Harry did not know that and, ironically enough, neither can Margaret change what happened.

"I'm sorry, Harry-" Both Neville and Margaret begin simultaneously.

They look up at each other surprised, before Neville blushed brightly, proceeding to nearly sit down on his rare cactus. Margaret shook her head, looking at Harry with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault. If I hadn't yelled, you wouldn't have lost Trevor and poor Cho wouldn't have... well, it's just, that plant would explode in Stinksap if poked harshly and-"

"It's okay, Margaret. What's happened's happened," he responds.

"I'm sorry too, Harry. I'll just get a cage for Trevor from next time-"

"Neville, it's fine. Really. It's okay."

Then Harry sighed before turning to Margaret with a smile. "Do you still have some chocolate frogs left? I'd like to trade that Andros card you have with one of my Dumbledore ones if you don't get any of him this time. We all have one of him."

The train ride from then on goes smoothly, trading cards, eating Pumpkin Pasties from the food trolley, dinking iced butterbeer, and talking about what house Margaret could end up in. While the three supported Gryffindor, Luna gently mentioned that Ravenclaw would do Margaret good too. Neville shyly told her that Hufflepuff wasn't too bad either. She accepted their opinions, hoping to not get too nervous about her sorting.

Ron and Hermione returned an hour later and they had just missed the food trolley. Margaret had bought some Cauldron Cakes for them, handing two packets each to both the Prefects as well as two filled glasses of butterbeer.

"You're an angel, you are," Ron compliments her, ripping apart the packet of his cauldron cake, taking two more chocolate frogs from Harry while sipping his beverage, all at the same time. Margaret gave Ron an odd but impressed look at his multi-tasking as Ginny snorted.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," Hermione begins, the foam from her drink on her upper lip. She wipes it with her sleeve before continuing, "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's the Slytherin Prefect?" says Ron, still with his eyes closed and his mouth full.

"Malfoy," Harry guesses at once.

"' Course," scowls Ron, stuffing the rest of the cake into his mouth and taking another.

"And that miserable cow Pansy Parkinson," says Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a Prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

"Money can go a long way. At least, that's what they think," responds Margaret.

"Who's for Hufflepuff?" Harry asks.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," replies Ron between mouthfuls of chocolate.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," adds Hermione.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," says a vague voice.

Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of the chocolate frog.

"Yeah, I know I did," he said, looking mildly surprised.

"Wit beyond measure is a man's great tressure," Luna hums and retreats behind The Quibbler again.

Ron stared at the cover, gaping for a few seconds, then looked at Ginny for some kind of an explanation, but she just stuffed her knuckles on her mouth to stop herself from giggling. Ron shook his head, bemused, then checked his watch.

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," he tells the rest. "And we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something..."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" warns Hermione sharply.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," argues Ron sarcastically.

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For Merlin's sake, Ron-"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," interjects Ron. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt, screwed up his face in a look of pained concentration and pretended to write in midair with his chocolate frog. "I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon's... backside..."

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of glee that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings in annoyance and Crookshanks to leap up into Margaret's lap, hissing. Luna laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor.

"That was funny!"

Her prominent eyes filled with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly baffled, he looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the prolonged laughter of Luna Lovegood, who was rocking back and forth.

"Baboon's... backside!" Luna chokes.

Everyone else was watching Luna laughing, but Harry noticed something on the magazine that made him dive for it. Upside down it had been hard to tell, but Harry now realized it was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge on the front page. One of Fudge's hands was clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand was strangling a goblin. The cartoon was captioned: How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?

Beneath that were listed the titles of other articles inside the magazine, one particular caught his attention.

SIRIUS BLACK: Villain or Victim?

"Can I have a look at this?" Harry asks Luna. She nodded, still breathless with laughter.

Margaret leaned in to look at what he was reading, stroking Crookshanks' fur with one hand to calm the cat down. She scrunched up her face, as did Harry when they read the ridiculous article on Sirius Black.

"I didn't know he sang," Margaret commented, biting her lip to not burst out laughing. Harry flipped through articles, each one even more brainless than the previous.

"He doesn't sing. Not that I know of," says Harry.