Sinister

Three | Anchors

(A/N) Hi! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'm just here to say that for this chapter in particular, I borrowed heavily from the movie, as I don't have the books on hand. Happy reading!

...

THERE existed no feeling quite like returning to Hogwarts. Margot stood in the doorway of her suite with a giddy grin, soaking in the surroundings she'd sorely missed.

Back home in California, she and her mother lived in a trailer park, where they shared a lumpy futon and a single bathroom. Here, she had a four-poster bed all to herself, with enough crimson blankets to ward away the Highland chill, and a magicked fireplace that warmed the room to a perfect temperature every evening.

"Are you about done yet?" Hermione asked from behind her, prodding Margot in the ribs with her duffel. "Some of us would like access to our own beds."

Margot and Hermione had spent the hours-long train ride catching up on their respective summers, along with Harry and Ron. As was tradition, they four of them had gorged themselves on fudge flies and toffees, laughing until their stomachs threatened to burst.

"It's good to be home, isn't it?" Margot said, walking over to her bed. She ran her hand over the red velvet curtains that were draped over the canopy, cherishing their rich texture.

Hermione, ever efficient, was already unpacking. But she paused to beam at Margot. "It really is."

"What's this?" Margot questioned, noticing the neatly-wrapped parcel on her bed. She'd never seen such fancy packaging - a murky green wrapping, embossed with black and silver swirls. Slytherin colors. She checked for a sender, but found none.

Hermione shrugged, glancing at her own bed. "I haven't got one."

"Watch it be some prank," Margot said warily, giving the box an experimental shake. When nothing inside hissed or cawed, she decided it was safe enough to open.

"What is it?" Hermione peeked over her shoulder.

Margot swallowed. "Textbooks."

But not just any textbooks - these were the same ones she had abandoned at Flourish and Blotts. The ones she hadn't been able to afford.

"Textbooks? Oh, didn't you mention you lost some of yours?" Hermione dipped her head, copper curls spilling over her left shoulder. "Perhaps someone found them and mailed it to you."

"Perhaps," Margot echoed blankly. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who had sent them, but the possibility was just too ridiculous - and mortifying - to consider.

Within half an hour, Margot and Hermione had put away most of their possessions, chatting amiably while they folded and arranged and spruced.

"Well, come on then," Hermione said, standing and brushing off her robe. "Or we're going to be late for the Welcoming Feast."

In the Common Room, Harry and Ron sprawled on the couches, waiting for them to come down.

Hermione regarded them crossly, hands on her hips. "Am I to presume neither of you so much as started to unpack?"

Margot chuckled. "Why ask when you already know the answer?"

As they embarked for the Great Hall, Margot passed a parade of familiar faces. Ginny, Neville, Cho, Fred and George, the Patel twins . . . even the sight of Pansy Parkinson didn't annoy her yet, even as the brown-haired girl sneered in her direction.