that Margaret was very happy about:

She and Ginny were on good terms, and she was going to London today with Tonks to buy Muggle gifts for everyone.

It was last night after returning from St Mungo's that Margaret and Ginny had talked things out.

"You coming?" Ginny asks, pausing halfway up the staircase to turn to Margaret, barely visible in the near darkness of the house this late at night.

"Huh? Oh, er, no you go on," she says, frowning.

"Just so you know," says Ginny rather sternly, "we aren't mad at you."

"You aren't?" she asks dumbly.

"No. I saw how pale Harry looked, we all saw how badly he'd taken it," Ginny says, letting out a small sigh and stepping down a few stairs. "Maybe there was a good reason why they weren't telling him, you know? "

"Ginny... I know what you're thinking," Margaret tells her. "Maybe you should talk to him. If there's anyone who has a reason to reassure him about it, it's you."

"So he is being possessed," Ginny whispers worriedly.

"I didn't say that," Margaret tells her, not unkindly. "What's going on with him is all guesswork."

"So you don't know?"

"I know and I don't," she shrugs, twisting the truth. She knew why there was a connection between Harry and Voldemort, but she did not have the liberty to tell anyone and mess with time. "It's complicated."

Ginny sighed again. "All right... You keep your secrets, Margie."

"Not for long, Ginerva," she tells her, smiling amusedly. "I suppose, my secrets will be everyone's secrets... Some details are often left untold to the masses."

"You sound like Dumbledore," Ginny mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Go on, shoo," she laughs. "Good night."

Margaret had spent some time alone with Buckbeak after that, the hippogriff ruffling his feathers in excitement when he saw her. She bowed to him and he bowed back instantly before digging into the large bowl of fish she had brought him from the kitchen.

Back to this morning, Sirius seemed to be in great spirits.

"OH YE MERRY HIPPOGRIFFS! HIPPOGRIFFS! HIPPOGRI-"

"Shut it! Why in the devil is it so bright?!"

And that was Ginny again.

"I think it's called the light," says Margaret, yawning. She was far too comfortable under the duvets.

"Why are the lights shouting?" Ginny mumbles, snuggling closer to her pillow.

"Nah, that was Sirius."

"Seriously?!"

"Sirius-ly," Margaret laughs. Some puns sounded so much funnier in her head and when she had just woken up. Ginny did not agree judging by the pillow that was thrown at her. It only made her laugh more.

Sirius was knocking on everyone's door at sharp seven, claiming that they had a lot of decorations to do before they had to leave.

The Weasleys were apparently planning on heading to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping later this afternoon whilst Margaret had plans to go to Muggle London with Tonks. Some gifts they had already ordered, their parcels arriving through owls. Some, however, needed to be collected from the shops in Diagon Alley.

The Christmas decoration commenced once breakfast was over, led by a very excited Sirius. Margaret took to decorating the lounge, as everyone selected a room of their own to decorate. Fred and George - who had been let off by their mother after a strict warning - used their wands to put up baubles, garlands and mistletoe all over the staircase. Mrs Weasley forced them to take down some of the mistletoe as no one wanted to get stuck under one with a family member.

Much to Walburga Black's displeasure, Sirius hung up a bright red and gold star atop her painting, finishing it off with several red and yellow ribbons all over the curtain. He also put red and white Santa hats on the house-elf heads and hung tiny stars on their nose. It was rather dark humour, in Margaret's opinion.

Tonks arrived right after they had all had lunch, a grumbly-looking Moody leading her in. Ron had gone up to ask Harry if he'd like to join them, but returned without his best friend, looking sullen. Sirius patted Ron on the back, telling him that maybe Harry was tired.

Margaret knew that Harry was under the misconception that everyone was avoiding him. She sighed, hoping that he would cheer up soon. She would have spoken to him or kept him company but he had to figure this out on his own. Besides, she was already trying her best to not feel guilty about Mr Weasley on top of not letting herself get weighed down by the memories of Christmas 2017.

The Diagon Alley was a beacon of light. The whole place alive with the buzz of Christmas shoppers and alight with the magical Christmas gifts and objects - decorative dragon eggs, miniature brooms, miniature Quidditch gameplay, discounts on Wizard's Chess, cornish pixies, pygmy puffs, edible gold coins (they were actually chocolate), cake decorations, marching nutcracker figurines and so much more.

Margaret went with Tonks to Gringotts once they arrived in Diagon Alley in order to withdraw some gold from her vault, (she had got one under her name in the newer parts of the bank), turning a huge part of it to Muggle money. She knew what she wanted to get for everyone, and most of it would not be found in Diagon Alley.

Margaret and Tonks made a pit-stop in Madam Malkin's before they made their way out of Leaky Cauldron and down to the nearest tube station. Tonks's hair had turned aqua-blue out of excitement that she was trying, and failing, not to show on her face. This time, they got off at Oxford Circus and took one of the infamous red double-deckers to Selfridges on Oxford Street.

"This is so much... calmer than the Knight Bus," says Tonks, bouncing lightly in the warm cushioned seat of the double-decker.

Margaret nods, "Yep! No risk of running someone over either- oh look! There's Santa!"

Throughout the whole ride, albeit the fact that it was only a few minutes long, they pointed out several Muggle Christmas lights and decors to each other, spotting some really great shops that they decided they would visit before leaving.

"This place is huge!" Tonks comments as they make their way inside Selfridges after admiring the window display. "And beautiful too! Muggles really are something..."

"I know, right?" Margaret says, grinning. Then she points at the nearest clothing store, "Come on, let's start there."

Selfridges was very well-known but Margaret knew about it because Steve Trevor took Diana Prince to Selfridges to dress more 'normally' (in other words, less Themyscira-like) when they arrived in London amid WWII in Wonder Woman.

Margaret was a fan of many things, and visiting real-life movie locations was her favourite hobby.

The stores there had a lot of collection for Christmas, and Margaret checked half the items off her list, as well as bought herself some new clothes. There was a Christmas pop-up store full of retro little gift items. There was also a bistro where they had some refreshing tea and rested their feet.

Tonks, meanwhile, mentioned that she had already shopped for the holiday and had gotten all the gifts she needed. However, she was very impressed by some Muggle fashion, especially the use of denim, and ended up treating herself too.

The two of them secured their many bags and, once they were sure that there were no prying Muggle eyes in the posh washroom, stored them into Tonks's extendable bag that she had brought along.

They went to several shops after leaving Selfridges, either window shopping or buying small souvenirs for the New Year. No matter where they went, the street was packed with locals and tourists rushing with an armful of shopping bags.

Yet there were several times when Margaret zoned out. Her traitorous brain showed her images of her brother - alive, well and next to her.

"Lift your pinkie if you love London!" he would've joked in the cringiest English accent, earning looks from all around, an arm slung around her shoulders as they walk among pedestrians. And she would've shot him a side look, questioning whether they were even related.

She didn't know if it was right to feel guilty... She was seeing London without him.

Margaret did not realise she had stopped walking and was smiling sadly at a display of Louis Vuitton bags, until Tonks backtracked towards her and asked her what was wrong. She shook her head and grinned, pulling Tonks along down the footpath again.

On Charing Cross Road, Margaret dragged Tonks into a bookstore, where she found some really great collections. She found some good books for herself, and got some good pictures too, for a collection she was making.

On Edgware Road, Tonks was rather taken with the electronics stores around. The shopkeepers did not mind explaining the various abilities of different devices to Tonks, likely because such handheld technology was fairly new and they were used to being asked a lot of questions. Margaret, meanwhile, purchased a pocket cassette player and two pairs of earphones - one single and one dual with four ear pieces.

By the time they were done with all the shopping, the sun was setting as the snow began falling once more. They were able to see the Christmas lights hung up above the street before they made their way down to the Underground again.

However, they had barely stepped a foot onto the train when Margaret and Tonks were separated in the boisterous crowd.

Margaret made her way inside with the rest of the people, knowing Tonks would as well, when suddenly she was pushed hard from behind. She gasped as she collided into someone. He easily caught her by her shoulders, holding her at arm's length and away from the oncoming crowd.

"Ah, crap- sorry. I'm so sorry," the boy apologises, his distinctly American accent muffled by a mask that covered up to his nose. He shook his short dark curls out of his face. He was a good few inches taller than her and quite slim in physique. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," she smiles politely. "I'm sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."

The announcement of the closing doors beeped above them and the crowd settled down. At the same time, something glittered near his neck; but before Margaret could see it, the boy's swamp-green eyes widened as he scanned her face. He inhaled sharply.

"It can't be..." he mutters, his grip on her shoulders tightening.

Margaret frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Margie?" Tonks calls, causing them both to turn to her. She narrowed her eyes at the boy whose hands were still on Margaret's shoulders, and her hair turned a dark red.

His eyes flickered up to it for a split second.

Before they could say anything else, he pushed Margaret into Tonks, distracting them for long enough for him to slip out of the closing doors by inches. His back tensed as his glanced over his shoulder at Margaret through the glass, then narrowed his eyes at Tonks, before blending into the crowd as the train left the platform.

Sort of flustered by this, Margaret turned to Tonks for a plausible explanation, scratching her neck.

"He was a wizard," Tonks whispers sharply. She pulls her down the compartment to the very corner where she makes Margaret sit on an empty seat and stands in front of her, blocking her from the view. "He saw my hair change colour, I'm sure of it," Tonks says quietly. "Muggles can't see past the enchantments I put on it, but witches and wizards can."

"He could've been someone from school," Margaret says to the ground. "Someone I don't know."

Tonks shook her head. "It's uncommon for wizards to wander into Muggle London, especially alone."

"He could be meeting someone, or going back home," she suggests warily, scratching her neck again and feeling it growing warm. "He could be a Muggleborn."

"Yeah, he could be," Tonks mutters, sounding unconvinced. "Or he could be under Polyjuice..."

"Are you saying that he could've been a Death Eater?"

"Shh! It doesn't matter now," Tonks glances discretely at everyone around them. "We're changing trains."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Margaret asks.

"Yes and no."

She took out her necklace from under her shirt, which was getting very warm all of a sudden. Perhaps she was more agitated by the encounter than she believed, even though she did not really have a reason to.

They changed trains at the next station, and Tonks was on the edge the whole way back to Leaky Cauldron.

When they finally arrived back at the fireplace in Grimmauld Place at around six o'clock, they were welcomed by a pleasant sight - Harry had actually came out of hiding and was chatting with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George in the living area.

Margaret waved at Hermione, who had probably arrived that afternoon, and the frizzy-haired witch beamed back.

"Ah, look who's back," George pipes up. "Had a fun day amongst Muggles?"

"It - was - extraordinary!" Tonks exclaims, sounding suddenly as mesmerised as she looked. "Muggles are brilliant with Christmas! You should see the way they decorate and the things they have for gifts; they'd even gift-pack things for you! And there was this- what was it called, Margie?"

"Er, New Year countdown?" Margaret offers.

"No, no! Those people in fancy pants, stomping their feet-"

"The marching band-? Oh, the parade!"

"Yes! They were carrying these large gold contraptions that honked the way they wanted - and, they were all in such sync like they were enchanted as a group-!"

Margaret shook her head to herself, smiling as Tonks went on. She went into the kitchen first, where Mrs Weasley was cooking dinner. Sirius was sitting off to the side, reading the Daily Prophet, and Remus was chopping vegetables on the counter.

"Ah, you're back," says Sirius, smiling as he looked up from the newspaper. "How'd it go?"

"It went great, actually," she replies. "Reminds a lot of home, even though everything's a little older than what I was used to. Anyway, I got loads of things! Mrs Weasley, I've brought some dessert too," she says, holding up the carry-bag with the bakery logo on it.

"That's so sweet of you, dear," says Mrs Weasley kindly as Margaret takes out the boxes. "Bring it here, we'll take it out."

"We found a French bakery near Burlington Arcade; and since I grew up in Quebec, we had several traditional French desserts for Christmas," she tells them excitedly, opening the boxes one by one. "We've got sugar pie, plum pudding, ugly Christmas sweater cookies, gingerbread, poutine; and ooh! Yule log or what we'd call Bûche de Noël."

"Tu parles français?" (You speak French?) asks Sirius in fluent French, perking up in his seat.

Margaret looked to him in surprise. "Oui! J'ai grandi au Québec! Je ne savais pas que vous parliez français aussi." (Yes! I grew up in Quebec! I didn't know you spoke French too.)

"Here we go again," mutters Remus, shaking his head to himself.

"It used to be a pureblood requirement. Toujours Pur was the motto," Sirius replies, rolling his eyes playfully. "And Moony here's just jealous 'cause he still sucks at pronunciations."

"Mon français est très bien," (My French is very good,) Remus replies, his accent that of a learner's, although fluent enough. Turning to face them all, he adds, "When we were at school, Margaret, Sirius lied to us about his utter incapability of learning French. Until one day he was caught reading a rather romantic poem out of my French translation of Shakespeare's Sonnets, aloud to a mirror..."

"Oh, you two... Always causing trouble," Mrs Weasley speaks up, taking the ugly Christmas sweater cookies out of their box and setting them in a bowl.

"You know us, Molly," Sirius says. "It was fun seeing you blunder up with pronunciations, Remus."

"I did quite a good job, as far as my memory goes," Remus replies.

"Toujours Pur, you say?" Margaret asks Sirius.

"'Always Pure'," he responds, "stands for the belief of blood-purity in pureblood families."

But Margaret frowned, the stranger on the train leaving her mind momentarily.

The title of that book she had found in the Restricted Section, authored by the supposed Alfréd Xenakis, was called Toujours Pur: La Terre, which she knew translated to Always Pure: The Earth.

It might just have been a coincidence that half of it was titled the same as the supremacist motto of purebloods, but she would only find out if she was able to read the book. The problem was, she was afraid to touch it in case it showed her another confusing and rather painful vision.

Margaret helped Mrs Weasley in taking out the sweets she had brought before telling them that she would be back later.

If she was being honest, she wanted to be alone for a while after the long day. She took her numerous shopping bags from Tonks's extendable bag and managed to teleport them all with her to her room upstairs before Fred and George could take a peak, and stocked them near her bed. She decided to take a shower before heading to dinner.

Everyone enjoyed Mrs Weasley's infamous food, finishing it all off with the sweets Margaret had brought. Fred, George and Ginny declared that Muggles were incredible, due to the sole fact that they invented Ugly Christmas Sweater Cookies, which looked hilarious but tasted amazing. They all hung back in the lounge, playing Exploding Snap (Remus won several times against Sirius, much to the latter's bafflement), chatting and laughing.

It was a fun affair, and Margaret enjoyed so much that her head completely cleared of her guilt and sadness with Christmas.

One by one, everyone headed to bed. Margaret was left last after Ginny said she wanted to take a shower before bed and headed upstairs.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight Margaret extinguished the several candles around the living room before heading towards the stairs, only to walk into two identical redheads who had just Apparated behind her with a crack.

She gasped and turned around way too quickly, causing her to stumble back onto the stairs behind.

"Hey!" she exclaims, glaring up at the two. "Watch where you Apparate!"

"Hello there, grumpy goblin," says Fred.

"Are you okay?" asks George.

Rubbing her lower back where the edge of the second stair had poked into, she rolled her eyes. "Yeah... fine."

"We didn't mean to scare you, Margie," says George, taking a seat to her left.

"Yeah, we just wanted to... well... you say it, Georgie," says Fred, taking a seat on her right.

"What my incompetent twin is trying to say is that we wanted to talk to you about... talking to us," George tells her, shooting a side look at Fred over her head.

"About what?" Margaret asks, confused.