❞ 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐫
❁
Margaret 'Maggie' Potter, unlike her older brother and every single girl in school, despises the cocky, self-absorbed Sirius Black.
Sirius Black himself has never been very fond of t...
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WHEN a child, Christmas was Margaret's favorite holiday. It was perfectly close to her birthday, and with the year coming to an end, it felt like the best way to welcome a fresh start. A new year filled with possibilities and opportunities to explore.
She and James had a sort of ritual. They would go to bed close to midnight, bid their parents goodnight and close their bedroom doors. Then, very quietly, without the knowledge of either Fleamont nor Euphemia, they would wait until the clock struck three in the morning and go back down and peek at the presents. It was forbidden, it was mischievous, and it made Margaret feel up to little James' standard. It began when they were still very young, when he had dared her to do so as proof that she too could be naughty. And then it was slowly established as their own Christmas tradition. Something shared only between them two. It followed each year without exception, even after they stopped caring what they got for Christmas; even after James married Lily, when the newlyweds stayed for the holidays at Potter's Estate.
This was the first year where only one Potter remained awake.
Margaret, following protocol, went back down exactly at three, tiptoeing as if she still had a caregiver from whom she had to hide. It made her feel like she was still nine, twelve, seventeen years old. Like nothing had really changed. It had changed however, as there was no one –no round glasses and messy bed-hair– waiting for her with a mug filled with warm tea.
Margaret sat quietly in the sofa and watched intently as the fire slowly consumed the wood that the living room's fireplace held. There was no one to talk to in whispers, to laugh along, to play a silent game of cards. It felt very weird, as if she had imagined those moments, as if they were made-up. Yet, Margaret didn't feel James absence at all. She felt him close to her in a way hard to explain. And as she wrapped herself in his bedroom's old blanket, one that still held his scent quite nicely, she closed her eyes and let herself dream.
That was how Sirius found her early in the morning, snoring lightly with her feet tucked in the sofa's cushions. And when he woke her up slowly, her face shined with a sort of peace that he had failed to see the past two months.
They prepared breakfast together, and set it on the coffee table as they waited for the rest to wake up. There was unmistakably an air of awkwardness as Sirius fried some eggs and Margaret heated some crumpets in the oven. And they worked along in the kitchen, making sure to maintain a three feet radius from one another. Nonetheless, they were still working together, and the thought and realisation of this was both bizarre and unexpected.
The other two adults woke up soon enough and made their way downstairs, and when Margaret deemed that everything was perfect, she raised upstairs to wake Harry up.
