Margo bundled up in her robes, tightly wound about her frame.  The deep green, fitted cut made of a heavy sort of wool was comfortable and warm for the winter months, which she appreciated when having to walk around to purchase gifts for the holiday season.  The weather was absolutely horrifically cold, which bothered her – all over.  Everything was stiff and sore, which was a problem, and considering her previous post had been in the mountains where it was pretty consistently cold, Margo had a hard enough time with the more mild weather of England than Romania. 

She had stretched all morning and now was just getting used to walking in the weather, making note that the slushy streets were no good under non-solid footing.  She was not having a good time with balancing.  She contemplated moving somewhere warm, maybe to the south of Spain, but that wasn’t going to happen as long as family was anywhere nearby and money was slightly tight.  She’d go through the winter here if it meant being able to pay the bills and live somewhat comfortably, thanks. 

There was the small note that the cold weather in England generally meant it was getting close to that time of year, and that meant she had to leave the confines of her warm and cozy flat with cocoa and Lizard to get gifts, but it also indicated the time of year the fireplace could be consistently blazing and comfortable.  She wanted to get a few things, mostly for her family and some people around the office that she particularly liked.  One of the ornery older men in the office who wore an eye patch, she called him Patchy, was high on her list.  It would probably just make him angry, which would be hilarious – so she wanted to get him something good. 

For everyone else, she would probably go with the usual ideas, scarves and mittens, candy, a wand holder, you know, anything that would make them smile and realize that she was one of the worst gift givers ever.  She was trying to avoid some of the more usual places though, just in case she ran into certain people.  She was still slightly horrified about what had happened with Cillian and thus, she avoided Hogsmeade – just for safety’s sake – it was still slightly mortifying. It was hard to embarrass Margo, so this was slightly new for her, the whole shame thing. With that in mind, Diagon was going to have to do. 

But, before she started to shop for anyone else, she wanted to stop in the magical menagerie.  The idea of perhaps acquiring a puffskein was pleasing – it would give Lizard something to play with and a way to get rid of some of the bugs and unsightly things in the apartment.  Puffskeins would eat anything, really, so that would help with cleaning.  She was really ready to get something else on that. 

Pushing into the menagerie, she was glad to see that it was very much unfilled.  People were probably not going to be getting Christmas gifts at the magical menagerie except for the odd parent who was buying their kid a krup, which Margo would definitely recommend against, since the holidays were often stressful and really not the right time to just waltz into a shop to pick up a pet, but she wasn’t the parent (thank Merlin) and no one listened to her anyway, but whatever the case, so she sighed and moved from the door and into the shop to the puffskein section.

Running a dark hand through her hair, Margo sighed with a bit of a frown, looking at the selection.  They all looked the same, and as much as she loved animals, she was a little amiss at choosing something fluffy and puffy for her flat.  Did it have to match?  Would it go well with Lizard?  She wrinkled her nose and frowned again, really, was this supposed to be so difficult? 

Declan, unlike everyone else in the known world, had no holiday shopping to do really. Two people- Kathryn, his ex girlfriend, and their son were the only people had had to shop for. He wasn't even certain whether or not the gifts he sent every year reached her, or what her current situation was, but he tried and had to be commended for at least putting forth an effort, right? Right.

But what to buy a four year old that he would find entertaining? He had considered the idea of purchasing the boy a pet, and at least by that point he would know what was really happening with the things he sent to him. His owls always came back empty handed without any notes attached so he assumed they delivered successfully. Besides, the animals were his family business and a small part of him wanted his son to love animals- even if he would never have anything to do with O Morain Farms. (Because his bitch of a sister had taken it over and not even let him know when their parents had died. He had heard through the grapevine. Declan also contented himself with believing that Liadan had likely offed the both of them.)

There was a familiar face investigating the puffskeins, and it took Declan a few minutes of very rude and obvious staring to realize who it was- it was Margo! Declan was surprised to see her, and even more surprised to see that she had grown up from an annoying little kid into a very pretty woman. "Margo Amherst?" he ventured cautiously, approaching while wearing his most charming smile. "You probably don't remember me," he stated. "Declan- Declan O Morain?"

They were relatives, but they were also purebloods, and since when were purebloods at all shy about flirting with their distant relatives? They weren't too closely related, and it wasn't as though he had any intention of marrying or sleeping with her. He just wanted to have a good chat and maybe see if she was the sort willing to bolster the ego of an old friend. (Not that they had really been friends. Liadan had tortured Margo mercilessly when they were younger, and since he was her brother she might think just as poorly of him as she surely must think of his sister.)

Margo was particularly oblivious.  She did not usually pay mind to those that stared at her, particularly because she was so used to it – being as odd as she was – and reveled in the fact that there was always going to be someone looking at her just a little strangely or over-intensely for some reason.  When she felt a set of eyes on her, she glanced back momentarily, though definitely not long enough to garner anything about the person other than the fact it was a very small man, and then turned back to her query – the puffskeins. 

She saw a little dark green one, which she rather liked – he would blend in well with the overall appearance of her flat, but then there was also a bright orange one with yellow spots, which was far more appropriate to Margo’s taste and personality.  She was intent on getting something, but whichever it was, she was still not sure.  If only she had a second opinion she could trust – it struck her that at this particular moment it would be so advantageous to have Ferguson around, she couldn’t even believe it.  He would know how to handle this. 

She was about ready to march out and find him somewhere, wherever, she could only imagine that if term were over, he’d probably be in the Alley shopping anyway, but she was interrupted.  Turning slightly, she was surprised to look down and see the same man she saw earlier looking at her, now standing in front of her and knowing her name.  She looked down with raised eyebrows, “…Yes…?” she said slowly, waiting for him to continue…

"You probably don't remember me," he stated. "Declan- Declan Ó Móráin?"

She was startled.  He certainly had the Ó Móráin stature, that was for sure, but she didn’t immediately recognize him as her distant cousin.  Perhaps it was because she had avoided them at all costs most of her life, or maybe because she had been travelling extensively for the past eight years or so, but whatever the case, she was slightly concerned that her cousin was approaching her now and actually smiling at her… what was that all about?  “Oh… hey,” her mouth tugged upward, though awkwardly, unsure of how to handle someone coming up to her like that – especially when he had grown up…

She remembered the scrawny, short boy from childhood and though he had not grown much taller, it was obvious he had filled out even just a little bit.  How odd to remember, exceptionally distantly, someone who grew to be someone different – who was actually… smiling… quite charmingly, she would add, at her.  Registering the shock, Margo started to smile, and awkwardly lifted her hand to her hair, bouncing her thick, dark curls, something she tended to do when she was unsure of how to respond.
 
“It’s been ages,” she commented, “What brings you to the shop today? Not that I work here, of course,” she quickly added with a bit of a chuckle, “just browsing myself.  Tell me, green or orange?” she pointed, indicating the two she was considering, glancing back at him – any opinion was better than no opinion, she reasoned. 

Declan pushed his glasses up his nose, watching the awkward smile and the way Margo seemed to struggle for recognition. It had been a long time since they had seen one another, and many things had changed. While they were in Hogwarts, and Declan faced his disinheritance from the family, he had still been a bitter young man. Declan had hated his family, and those who shunned him for the happening. It was fair to say he had been downright mean and nasty to everyone who crossed his path at that time...

But that was almost ten years ago. Since then he had found his niche in the world of potions, had a child, been kicked out of the field he loved, and been degraded to the point of having to teach at Hogwarts about magical creatures instead of running a family business which was rightfully his. Declan had no doubt that if their mother had not gotten ill and died that she would have reinherited him. He would have loved to see the look on his brat sister's face if that had ever happened. But it had not. And he was no longer the rich, pureblood person he had once been. Mostly just a shadow now, living on the outskirts of proper and regular societies. He didn't really fit into either anymore.

He had also grown up. He'd been so gangly then, and he had filled out some. He was still short, he was still thin, but now he had muscle hiding under his robes instead of skin and bones. It seemed his cousin had filled out quite nicely as well. Like most women she was taller than he was- much taller than he was- but that was okay. Declan liked taller women, and it seemed that Margo had the right assets to catch any man's attention.

When she fidgeted with her hair, he couldn't help but smirk. "Looking for a present, actually," he told her. Declan wasn't entirely sure whether or not he should confess that it was for his son- a son that he never got to see. "Sometimes pets make the best gifts."

Then she asked his opinion, pointing out the two puffskeins. He smiled lightly as he considered it. "I have to admit, I'm still biased to green- house loyalty takes a long time to die... But if you're anything like you were when we were children, then I would think that the orange one would be a better match. You never were one for being dull-unless your mum was forcing you to be. Even then you failed quite miserably." Declan meant it as a friendly comment, so he followed it with a light chuckle. Socializing was awkward for him sometimes. What was and what was not okay to say to a cousin who may or may not remember or even care that they were related, or that he had been ousted from the family.

"Though I never pegged you as a puffskein type of person," he added. "I would think that a less cuddly pet would be better suited for you."

Raising her eyebrows, she had never thought of her cousins as present giving types of people.  Lia was the person who always expected things to be handed to her and when she didn’t get it, she would make everyone else miserable until they did give it to her.  There was that compulsion she had to destroy lives that Margo still couldn’t understand, and probably never would.  It really didn’t make sense to her, and she didn’t intend to let it bother her.  It actually hadn’t really come up until she bumped into Declan, so she was going to shove it back.  Horrible memories of the brat of a cousin were not welcome at this moment anyway.

“I tend to agree,” Margo grinned, looking at the wall of puffskeins and briefly wondered if Fergie had a pet.  She figured he was probably too high maintenance for anything that actually required care.  Would his parents appreciate this sort of gift from her?  She figured not, and it would be harder for him to explain than a sweater or something, though she had to make sure she got the right kind of sweater for him.  This was so stressful – she needed to focus on her own purchases right now.  And, of course, Declan was now part of that decision making process. 

She hoped he had something to offer, and chuckled softly as he mentioned house loyalty.  “I suppose that makes green a definite non-choice for me,” she grinned easily, remembering the gold and red pride she had at school, sporting all of the Gryffindor gear she had acquired post Hogwarts as well, particularly her hat and scarf wherever she traveled.  No one had any reservations about where she went to school and where her loyalties lied.  The orange puffskein was bouncing around in the holding area, and she had to admit, it did suit her better than green.  She was surprised Declan brought up the past as a supporting argument.

Grinning foolishly, she could not help but be proud of what she had done growing up.  She had scandalized most people she came across in her early life and proved that she most certainly had her own identity.  It was an accomplishment to be one’s own person growing up with an extended family like the one she and Declan shared.  It appeared he acknowledged that, and nodded, laughing as he noted her miserable failure at being dull.  “The most astonishing part,” Margo informed him with quite a bit of over-confidence, “was I seldom tried to be scandalous, it’s just… natural for me, I suppose,” she laughed, not feeling any awkwardness at all in the exchange. 

They were family, they understood one another to some degree, and from what she heard in the grapevine (from her mum) it wasn’t as though he was on good terms with anyone they were related to either anyway.  It was building a little bit of camaraderie, and she scooped up the orange fluff ball.  Out from the thick fur, a long, pink tongue snaked out and curled around her index finger, causing the tall brunette to laugh, grinning down at her cousin – what was with all these short guys she came into contact with? 

The thought was fleeting and Margo tickled at the little ball, it made some sort of awkward gurgle.  “Need something that will eat the dust bunnies under the couch,” she informed him, “and Lizard, my cat, will have something to play with during the day.  Not my first choice, but hey, functional and low maintenance, which is just what I need.”  Margo was not the type to always remember vital things and a puffskein would basically feed itself. 

“What about you?  Buying a present for the latest girlfriend?  Grab a tiny pink one, will probably drive any idiot wild,” she laughed brightly, having already made her decision about the orange puffksein, totally coming home with her.  It would need a bad ass name, naturally, maybe Scabies or something… She’d think about it later.