. The first week of the start of the term at Hogwarts had stretched out.

From Harry getting his detentions to Margaret trying to explain to a furious McGonagall that it wasn't her fault that she had lost a hundred points on her second day; the week was quite stressful.

Thankfully, she had managed to get some good nights' sleep in the past two days, reading some reference books that were thoroughly captivating and writing in her journal so that it was the last thing on her mind before she went to bed.

On top of that, she had spent hours and hours after classes in the library, even skipping dinner once - although she had regretted doing so. She loved reading and there were so many books, it almost made her cry out of happiness. However, there was also the same amount of homework, which almost made her cry too.

The sky, for the first time since she had arrived at the castle, was a clear blue. The birds were chirping sweetly around the courtyard as Margaret made her way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. She smiled to herself, feeling the gentle breeze blowing her slightly damp hair that had twisted into bouncy curls at the ends.

On weekends, the students were allowed to wear their casual clothes instead of the uniform, and Margaret was glad to be wearing a black tank top under a denim jacket, a pair of black joggers and white converse. An outfit so out of place in the ancient castle but she was comfortable since it reminded her of home.

Before taking the turn towards the corridor that led to the Great Hall, Margaret caught the sight of Harry who was making his way through the viaduct courtyard, his greeneyes lit up and a skip in his step. He didn't seem to have noticed her yet.

"Oi, Harry!"

Harry looked up as she started walking beside him.

"Oh, hey. Sorry, didn't see you there."

Margaret waved her hand dismissively. "No worries. You're in good spirits today. That's nice to see."

"Oh. Thanks. Yeah, I guess I am," he nods before lowering his voice and leaning in as they neared the Great Hall, "Listen, I wrote to Sirius. It'll be okay, right?"

Even though Harry had addressed the letter to Snuffles and wrote it in a way that no one except Sirius would understand, he still had to make sure. He let out a breath of relief when Margaret nodded.

"Yeah, sure. It'll be alright," she says, looking around casually before muttering under her breath, "Keep an eye out on the fire after curfew tomorrow."

With that, she strutted to where Hermione and Ron were sat in front of each other. Margaret perched on the bench beside Hermione and Harry took a seat beside Ron.

"Morning," he greets brightly to the other two.

Ron turned to him with a weird look. "What are you looking so pleased about?"

"Uh... nothing. Just for quidditch after," Harry replies, pulling a large platter of eggs and bacon towards him.

"Oh, yeah..." mutters Ron. He put down the bit of toast he was eating and took a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he continues, "Listen... you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to - er - give me some practise before training? So I can, you know, I can get hold of it..."

"Yeah, okay," Harry replies.

"Look, I don't think you should," Hermione objects seriously, "you're both really behind on homework as it-"

Loud screeches and hoots interrupted Hermione, the morning posts had arrived. Margaret watched the owls that burst in from the high arch of the ceiling above the doors. As usual, The Daily Prophet soared toward them in the beak of a barn owl, which landed awfully close to the flagon of pumpkin juice and held out a leg; Hermione pushed a Knut into its leather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as the owl took off again.

"Anything interesting?" Ron asks. Harry shot his friend a knowing look; he knew Ron was keen to get her off the subject of homework.

"No," she sighs, "just some stuff about one of the Weird Sisters getting married..."

She opened the paper and disappeared behind it. Harry devoted himself to another helping of eggs and bacon; Ron was staring up at the high windows, looking distracted.

"Wait a moment," says Hermione suddenly. "Oh no... Sirius!"

"What's happened?" Harry snatched at the paper so violently that it ripped down the middle so that he and Hermione were holding half each.

"Jesus," Margaret mumbles, eyeing the torn paper in each of their hands while buttering some toast.

" 'The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer... blah blah blah... is currently hiding in London!' " Hermione reads from her half in a horrified whisper.

"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," Harry says in a low, furious voice. "He did recognize Sirius on the platform..."

Margaret nodded and took a bite of her toast. But neither of the three noticed her, too busy in their anguished states.

"What?" Ron questions, looking alarmed. "You didn't say-"

"Shh!" Hermione interjects sharply before she laid down her half of the paper and looked fearfully at Harry and Ron. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all... Dumbledore did warn him not to."

Margaret did not miss Hermione shooting her side glances for the next moment of silence, while Ron blatantly stared at her. Harry was too preoccupied in his worry, looking down at his half-eaten plate of eggs.

"Well?" Ron asks when Margaret didn't acknowledge him.

"Well what, Ron?"

"Will he be okay, then? You're the all-knowing-"

"SHH!" Hermione snaps.

"Right yeah, er, you don't seem too worried," he says, frowning.

It irritated her to no end, even though she understood his curiosity and worry. It surprised her a bit when even Hermione didn't exactly stop him, only looked down and gnawed at her lip. Harry had looked up now, glancing between Ron and Margaret, looking like he didn't know if to stop his friend or not.

Margaret scowled, putting down the toast, dusting her hands and grabbing the mug of coffee.

"I'm not here to reassure you about every tiny little thing, Ronald. That is not my job," she states as she rose from the bench, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing, "You might want to worry about that homework too."

With that said she turned her back towards them and made her way out of the Great Hall with her coffee in hand.

"Tiny little thing?" Ron asks incredulously to the other two. "She thinks this is-"

"Ron, Dumbledore specifically told us not to ask her anything," Hermione says tiredly. "She already has a lot on her plate."

"Sure, but can't she at least-"

"Padfoot will be fine," Harry interrupts this time, pushing the food on his plate with a fork. "I wrote to him today... Before we came to breakfast, Margaret told me to keep an eye on the fire tomorrow. Figures that would be his way of communication."

"She said that?" Hermione questions, slightly surprised.

"Yes."

Hermione folded up her half of the newspaper thoughtfully. When Harry laid down his knife and fork she seemed to come out of a reverie.

"Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout first, and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus before lunch..."

Harry felt a small twinge of guilt at the thought of the pile of homework awaiting him upstairs, but the sky was a clear, exhilarating blue, and he had not been on his Firebolt for a week...

, Margaret had brought down her school bag filled with textbooks, reference books and parchments that she took out as she sat down crossed-legged on the floor and facing the snuffed out fire.

Warm morning sunlight poured in from the high windows, lighting up the fairly empty common room.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Neville descend the spiral staircase that led to the boys' dormitories, carrying his precious Mimbulus Mimbletonia.

"Hey, Neville," she calls out, waving him over. Neville looked around, startled for a second before unsurely making his way to where Margaret was sitting.

"M- Morning, Margaret," he greets shyly.

"Good morning. Are you heading to the greenhouse?" Margaret asks, gesturing at the stunted plant in his hands.

"Uh, no actually - er - I was... I was, um, thinking of writing about the progress after watering it, which I did last night... See, it's reverberating," he looks down at the plant before suddenly perking up, "Oh! By the way, you were right; it does squirt stinksap when prodded harshly!"

Margaret's brows shoot up in astonishment. "Oh my god, did you experiment it?"

"Er, something like that. Professor Sprout might've accidentally poked it too harshly..."

Margaret couldn't stop herself from snorting but she covered her mouth with her hand to stop the laugh from bubbling up at the thought of poor Professor Sprout covered in dark green, rancid, slimy liquid.

She gestured in front of her.

"Well, you can sit here if you want to. Have you finished the Herbology essay on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs? I could use some help, to be honest," she offers, thoroughly amazed to find Neville turn as red as the Weasleys' hair. She smiled kindly, hoping to show him that she meant no harm.

"Uh, er, yeah- yeah. Um, of course, yeah sure, I can- I can help... I, er, I finished it last night, um... Would you, er, would you like to copy it- no, no, wait, my handwriting..."

"Neville, calm down," Margaret chuckles as he just about slips to the floor, nearly losing his grip on Mimbulus Mibletonia while blushing brighter than before. She shook her slightly head at his innocence. It was rather refreshing.

"Sorry..."

"No worries. It would be great if you could maybe tell what points you used in your essay. I think I should start by writing about how they live in caves so it's important to find a place with no sunlight."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, yes, and... they shouldn't be planted more than three together or they'll kill each other since they are, you know, flesh-eating species."

She smiled, speaking the minimum when he went on and on about Self-Fertilizing Shrubs, as she tried to keep up. A few times she had to ask him to repeat himself so that she could make notes for her essay before telling him to stop apologising for talking too fast.

Margaret ended up finishing the essay way before lunchtime. While she was writing, Neville started noting down the progress on the Mimbulus Mibletonia about which he then later told her when she asked.

She couldn't help but notice how easy it was for Neville to talk about Herbology. He didn't stutter and his face lit up like a light bulb as if it was the most interesting thing in the world - which to some degree, it was. Herbology was fascinating especially to him.

Once they were both done with their respective works, Margaret asked if he had done the other homework they had, watching as his face fell.

"McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus is awfully difficult," he mumbles, looking suddenly dispirited.

"I can help with that, I wrote most of it yesterday," she tells him. "Have you drawn that bowtruckle?"

"Yes, that one I did do... And um, thanks. I appreciate the help... really, I do."

"It's okay, Neville. I should thank you. Let's start with the Transfiguration essay, maybe we can finish it before lunch."

Margaret had consulted the Professor herself for useful reference book titles. McGonagall was more than willing to make her a list of books that would be useful for not only Transfiguration O.W.L. but also N.E.W.T.

She helped Neville out, giving him the notes she had made and the list of books she had found useful, while she fell to her habit of writing down key points before starting an essay as she listed down facts about Jupiter's moons for Astronomy.

By the time lunch hour finally rolled around, both Neville and Margaret had finished their Transfiguration homework and started the Astronomy essay before they went back to their respective dormitories to put their books and, in Neville's case, plant, away.

Meeting back in the common room, the two of them started out to head towards the Great Hall while discussing whether to draw diagrams of the moons at the top of the parchment or next to their descriptive paragraphs.

"Hey, you two," says Ginny, skipping into step beside Margaret and Neville as she entered the castle from the courtyard, her long fiery-red hair bouncing behind her.

"Hi, Ginny. How was your first week?" Margaret asks with a smile, happy to see her friend.

"T'was good. I'm looking forward to the Quidditch practise after lunch though. Hey, you know what? You both should come," she suggests, turning to the two of them.

Margaret looks at Neville in question. They were planning on heading to the library to finish their essay but after tackling both Herbology and Transfiguration in the past four hours, spending some time outside seemed like a good idea.

"Uh... I- I-"

"We can finish Astronomy later this afternoon if you want," Margaret says.

"Sure, uh, yeah, cool. Th- thanks, Margaret," Neville stutters. "I'm not very much into, uh, Quidditch though..."

"It's okay, the weather is nice today too," Ginny says, looking out of the continual high-arched stone windows on the side of the corridor. "Anyway, it would be nice if you come. It's Ron's first practise too."

"Brilliant. I'll go," Margaret declares before turning to Neville with a kind smile. "Neville, if you don't want to, you don't have to."

Neville looked at Ginny, who nodded in agreement. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry... I think I'll, er, head over to Professor Sprout and give her the progress I noted for Mimbulus Mibletonia after lunch."

"Alrighty, then. Meet in the library at five?"

"Sure, I'll see you there."

The three of them parted ways there, having entered the Great Hall. Margaret and Ginny head towards Hermione while Neville spotted a Hufflepuff classmate.

"I saw you two in the common room after breakfast this morning," Ginny begins as they scaled across the hall towards their friend. "It's nice to see him talking to someone, and it's nice of you to be good to him. He's a bit shy but he's alright, you know?"

"I know, Gin. Neville's actually very smart in Herbology. I wouldn't have finished my essay so quickly had it not been for him," Margaret says.

"That's good, then," Ginny nods as they take a seat in front of Hermione. "Hey, Hermione. Had a good morning?"

The said girl looks up at the mention of her name, smiling when she spots the two. "Hi, Ginny. Hey, Margaret. Yes, I had a good morning. I just finished some of the homework in the library. What about you?"

"The weather's finally cleared up so I was outside with some of my friends," Ginny says, turning over the plate and serving herself some pie.

"I did some homework too; finished Sprout's and McGonagall's essays," Margaret replies while serving herself some rice.

Hermione perks up, happy that at least one of her friends were doing their schoolwork. "That's great, Margaret! Are you almost done with this week's work then?"

Margaret nodded. "Yeah, for the most part. I'm meeting Neville in the library later today to do Astronomy. After that, I just need to draw that stickman."

"You mean bowtruckle," Hermione raises a brow.

"Yes, that," Margaret replies. "Anyway, you both should come to my dorm sometime if you're free. It's pretty boring living on your own."

"Oh yeah, you have your own room don't you?" Ginny asks excitedly. "That sounds-"

"Lonely," Hermione finishes.

"No, that sounds bloody awesome! I'd love to hang out there. Are you free tonight? I can braid your hair again."

"Yeah, sure. Hermione?"

"I've got to knit. You know what? I can teach you two how to knit! I'm getting good at it, I can do some designs and stuff..." Hermione says excitedly, and Margaret and Ginny share a look.

Margaret shrugs, "I can try, but no promises. My knitting might actually look like woolly bladders."

Ginny laughs as Hermione rolls her eyes, "Oh, come on. I started from scratch this summer too."

At some point, Harry and Ron rushed in, reeking of sweat. The two of them turned over their plates and took a huge serving of everything in front of them, ignoring Hermione's glare. She had suggested them not to go outside to practice Quidditch and instead finish their impending homework but by the looks of it, they hadn't listened.

"I'm not going to let them copy my homework this time. You'd think the two of them would become a bit serious this year, but no," Hermione mutters almost to herself. Ginny hid her grin behind the rim of her goblet of pumpkin juice and Margaret stayed silent.

After lunch was over, Ginny invited Hermione to the quidditch practice but she declined politely, saying something about finishing her Transfiguration essay.

It was Margaret's first time on the Quidditch field and she had to stop in her tracks to gawk up at the stands and the hoops that towered over thirty feet above the ground.

"Hello, sister and... not sister," George greets as he jumps down from his broom next to Ginny.

"Hey, Tweedledee and Tweedledum," Margaret smirks looking at him, and Fred who had appeared beside her. The two of them were already dressed in their quidditch uniforms.

"Are those terms of insult or praise?" Fred asks. George threw an arm around Ginny, who promptly pushed him away.

"It's whatever you want it to be, Forge."

"He's Forge! I'm Gred," Fred says, pointing at his brother who shook his head.

"No, no. He's Gred and I'm Forge!"

"Oh, shut it, the pair of you," Ginny huffs. "Don't you two have practise?"

"Gee, we can't even say hello to family these days," Fred says sarcastically.

"Gee, now they remember me," Ginny retorts back, hitting Geroge's hand when he goes to swing an arm around her shoulders again. "Your hand weighs a tonne!"

"Does not!"

"Does so!"

"Anyway," Fred interrupts loudly.

"Heard you lost a hundred points on your second day, Margie," George raises his brows, just as Fred does the same, seeming to pretend to look like responsible adults for a split second before their faces break out in identical grins.

"We're proud of you," they announce in unison.

Margaret cringes. "I'm not surprised that you're the only ones to say that. But I can't keep that up, not if I want to stay out of detentions."

"Malfoy had it coming. I say we pull a mind-boggling prank to get back at him. What say, Georgie?"

"Right, Freddie. How about dung-bombs?"

"No, no, how about puking-"

"Okay, stop," Margaret interjects, causing them to turn back to her with confused faces. "Don't do that. I can handle it and keep my opinions to myself for a while."

"Yes, but," Ginny begins with a mischievous spark in her eyes, "imagine Malfoy and his chums smelling of dung one early morning after breakfast and they can't even go change or they'll be late to classes... And then maybe Ron can take away points from them for smelling... unacceptable. I'm sure it's against the dress code to smell like shit."