About 6:30 pm

Long days of traveling were, by no means, a novel experience.  Getting up early and being on the go  were all part of a normal day for Mairead, to the point that a day of watching the world pass by had become common place.  She could remember last week, Friday she thought it was, when their small cluster of wagons had weaved their way along the back highways from Limerick up to Kildare on there way to Dublin where she and her mother was part ways with the group and cross over to Great Britain. 

Today had been anything but common place.  Much of the English scenery had been partially obscured by the patch of moisture that waxed and waned with each breath as Mairead pressed her nose against the cold glass of the train window.  Cows and sheep and window planting boxes in England weren't all that different than those in Ireland, but through the excited eyes of an eleven-year-old, the cows seemed brighter and the windows seemed to sparkle even more. 

But, even that was nothing compared to the world that awaited her outside the small pub.  Hoping that the small glass of sweet juice would keep her content and settled in her seat, Mairead's mother had left her at a table towards the back of the pub while she brought their things up to their room.  Of course, a simple glass of juice wouldn't keep her stationary and Mairead assumed her mother knew as much.  She'd only gotten halfway through the glass when, through the window behind her, she watched a scraggly looking old wizard poke a few bricks in a seemingly normal wall and pass through to a teeming and oh-so-tempting street behind it. 

With two quick gulps, the glass of juice was finished just in time for Mairead to fall in step behind another younger looking wizard and follow them through the passage into the world that lay beyond.  And that was about as far as she got.  At the head of the long, active alley, Mairead froze, her mouth falling slack.  "Wow," she breathed quietly.  While the rest of her remained motionless, her eyes darted, not sure what she wanted to take in first.

Maggie glared down at the shopping list in her hand, stalling the inevitable. Her list consisted of one line: ‘Something nice to wear, Remembering Day’, and a doodle in the corner of the parchment that showed a stick-figure blonde in a pink frilly dress. Maggie did not approve. She knew Brandon would never sink so low (and he was awful at drawing), so she could only blame her little sister Lexie for that creative addition. She stopped scowling for a moment and entertained the fantasy of hiding all her old school supplies so Lexie couldn’t use them when she started Hogwarts in the fall.

Nah, that wouldn’t work. She’d just rummage through her room and create a mess looking for them. Her scowl slid back into place. She glanced up and watched the line of people exiting the Leaky Cauldron, and then reluctantly decided to follow.

Margaret walked through the shifting brick without a second glance. All her attention was focused on the doodle and the thoughts running through her head. She was so tempted to borrow another outfit from Kia, but it was rude to continue to depend on her friend’s fashion sense. Even Maggie had her limits. Also, they had different body shapes, so nothing fit her without magical modifications.

Merlin, she hated shopping. She’d rather stick her head into a bubbling cauldron. She’d rather attend a family reunion and smile at people the whole day. She’d rather-

“Ow! What the…” Margaret stopped herself from swearing just in time as she crashed into an abnormally large house-elf. About to mumble an apology, Maggie looked at the figure more closely and noticed it was a young girl. She had this expression of wonder on her face that normally afflicted children come August and September. This kid shouldn’t be so awe-struck just before May! What was she doing here? Maggie’s frown deepened.

“Aren’t you a bit early for the annual munchkin invasion?” She said crossly, not expecting an answer to that. She did, however, expect the kid to look apologetic for getting in her way.

After several frantic darting glances around at the expanse of the alley she could see, Mairead's eyes settled on one image.  A short distance down the street, a young man was stepping out of a shop, a splintery wooden crate grasped between his hands.  There was something in the box and, as the box quaked in the man's hands, it was clear that something was living.  A scaly tail slipped out between two of the slats of the crate before disappearing again but that glimpse was enough to further captivate the youngster's attention. 

A herd of horses could have thundered through the doorway behind her and left her trampled flat in their wake before she'd even been aware of them, as transfixed as she was.  The simple, quiet footsteps of a young witch moving up from behind her were hopelessly lost on her.  It took nothing less than someone colliding with her back for her to lurch her out of her trance. 

"Wha-?" With a surprised cry, she staggered, taking a few quick steps.  The cry was a little closer to a yelp then Mairead would have chosen to admit.  It almost seemed the few steps forward would pay off but before she could fully gather her balance she tumbled forward onto the cobblestones. 

Quickly, Mairead clambered  to her feet and turned towards the woman whose way she'd, apparently, blocked.  "I - a what?" Mairead said, her brogue slurring her question.  She regarded the woman only briefly before turning back towards the opposite doorway, looking around for the man with the crate.  "It's gone," she said, looking around once more just to be sure he was, in fact, gone before turning back to the woman. 

"He's - I'm - munchkin?" she said, her mind finally making the shift from crated beasts to - well, whatever this woman was talking about.  Mairead wasn't quite sure.  "I'm not a - You've got munchkins, too?" taking the woman at her word.  Apologizing hadn't occurred to Mairead in the slightest.  The woman had, after all, run into her.  It wasn't like Mairead had been trying to hide.  "Was that was in that crate?" she asked.  "They invade?" 

“What?” Maggie stared at her as if she had gillyweed growing out of her ears. The kid looked extremely confused and kept blabbing on about munchkins and a crate. Brow furrowed, Margaret glanced in the same direction as the girl but didn’t see anything that would cause befuddlement. Of course, she’d grown up with magic all her life and was a bit jaded.

One corner of her mouth quirked up as she realized why the child was so stuck on the idea of munchkins. It had been Maggie’s fault, really, for being so sarcastic. Someone who had never visited Diagon Alley before might very well think she was being literal.

“Yeah,” she said, turning back to her and managing to keep a straight face. “You see, the munchkins come every August- maybe September if they’re late- and they have a habit of causing traffic jams in the streets, getting lost, bursting into tears at random moments.” Margaret shook her head solemnly. “It’s an epidemic. And you’re months early!” She teased, knowing she was probably confusing the girl for life, but getting some enjoyment out of it.

Margaret soon realized she was contributing to the epidemic by standing in the middle of everything with the kid. She heard the sound of wheels on cobblestone and stepped out of the way just in time, tugging the girl along. The crates continued to roll themselves down the street even though Maggie gave them her worst glare. It looked like the muggle activity of bowling, but with shoppers instead of pins. Whoever had set the rolling charm must have been in a hurry.

“Puffskeins,” she explained with a snort. She’d seen little balls of multi-colored fluff huddled together in the crates, and could still hear the things squeaking in panic as the crates barreled through the streets. Kia would throw a fit. “They’re cute, if you like cute.”

Margaret raised her eyebrows at the young girl. “You’re not lost, are you?” That was the last thing she needed, and her unenthused tone said as much.

"The crate!" Mairead said, turning to point down the alley, where she'd last seen the fellow with the quivering box.  She was convinced that, despite the lack of information she was providing,  her gestures and own certainty would make it clear what she meant.  But, the woman was staring at her like she'd lost it.  "There ... there was something in - bloody - never mind."  Her voice faded as Mairead realized she really had no clue what had been in the crate.  Going on about some mysterious crate with unidentifiable creatures would probably only make her seem crazy.  Or, more crazy then the woman seemed to think she was.

As Mairead looked around her, she tried to picture a massive herd of stampeding munckins filling up the street.  A massive herd of, apparently, emotional munchkins.  Her nose and forehead wrinkled and she shook her head, unsure whether such an image was amusing or terrifying.  "Why do they cry?" Mairead asked, turning back to the woman.  "Are they just, ye know, fussy?"  Mairead had no clue why this woman thought she was one of these creatures.  Maybe they were frequently mistaken for kids, or maybe she didn't see very well.  That could have something to do with it.  If the woman didn't see well, it'd help explain why the woman had run into her.  "I am not a munchkin, though," she said, with a new degree of patience and understanding in her voice.

Mairead allowed herself to be drawn out of the way of the self-propelled crates but her attention was drawn unwaveringly towards them.  "They're puffer- what?" Mairead asked, looking at the woman before turning back to the rushing crates.  Ignoring the question about being lost, Mairead took a few steps after the crates.  She was not letting them get away this time without a good look.  Conveniently, there was no one accompanying the stack of crates to tell her to knock it off or leave them alone.   The crates were whirring by at a fast clip and Mairead only caught a glimpse of one of many small bundles of fur inside the top most crate.  It was, undoubtedly, cute.  Taken with curiosity, Mairead tried to reach a finger between the slats of the crate but the corner of racing crate snagged her finger. 

CRASH!  A sudden, loud crash echoed through the alleyway as the stack of crates came tumbling down.  The lower crates didn't have far to fall, they simply rolled across the street and coming to a rest, scattered across the street.  The topmost two crates had much further to fall.  The wooden planks smashed as they hit the ground, bursting open in a shower of round, soft balls of fur.  "Oh - I -," Mairead said as she stared at the spreading blanket of fluffy creatures.  They were scattering.  Not quickly - apparently, speed wasn't their best asset.  She quickly reached down to grab one of the puffskeins but hesitated, looking back at the woman.  "Do they bite?"

Margaret just raised her eyebrows at the girl as she tried explaining about whatever was in the crate. Kids. They just didn’t understand that most of the time, Maggie didn’t care if they were being truthful or not, as long as they kept out of her way and didn’t cause too much trouble. Of course, asking kids to be quiet was like asking house elves not to clean. It always backfired.

"Why do they cry?" Mairead asked, turning back to the woman.  "Are they just, ye know, fussy?"

“Maybe,” Maggie sighed, her amusement at their little game fading.

“I am not a munchkin, though,” the girl announced firmly.

Margaret looked at her and smirked. “Are you sure? You fit the profile.”

When asked about the puffskeins, Margaret gave a bored shrug, barely noticing that the child ignored the question about being lost. Her mind was busy thinking of how to get rid of her. Maybe she could show her the way to the Magical Menagerie and then get a start on shopping for a nice outfit. That could work. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about some kid pestering her with-

“Hey!” She shouted, realizing with alarm that the girl was peering intently at the crates whizzing by, her nose close enough to touch the wood. “What’s-your-name! What are you doing?” Margaret hurried over as the girl stuck her fingers between the wooden slats of the crate. She reached for her, but didn't get there in time. The crates fell to the ground, smashed, and the puffskeins rolled out and bounced around in agitation, emitting panicked, angry squeaks at all the passerby. Margaret heard the crowd of people around them shout in surprise, but she paid no attention to them.

She took a hold of the girl’s arm again to look at her hand, shaking her head at the scrapes across her fingers. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose a limb,” she scolded, slipping into big-sister mode.

Dropping the girl’s arm, she glared out at the destruction and made some quick decisions. “Okay, you know what? Stand over there,” she pointed to the closest wall. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t move. I’ll take care of this, and then we’re going to find your parents or whoever.” After that, she’d finally get her shopping done. She hoped.

Ignoring the girl once more, Maggie took out her wand and muttered a spell, which slowly reassembled the splintered crates. The crates were lopsided and misshapen now, but it was the best she could do. Then, she tried to figure out how to get the balls of fluff back into their containers. Perhaps there was some way to herd them. Her specialty was hexes and curses, but she obviously didn’t want to harm the little buggers. Maggie groaned. The parade of fluff was gaining ground. The puffskeins were now hopping after shoppers and trying to get people to cuddle them.

Margaret felt a tug on her leg and looked down. Before she could stop it, a puffskein wrapped itself tightly around her ankle.

“Oh hell.” She gently tried pulling it off at first, then gave up. It had a strong grip for something that was mostly fur. Maggie stared at her wand in dismay. Magic wasn't much help when she couldn't think of any spells that didn't involve blasting and cursing her way through problems.

It was somewhere between the woman's change of tone and the crashing fiasco with the crates that Mairead started to wonder if the woman wasn't being that earnest about the munchkin topic.  However, a brief glance towards her was all she had the time to spare on the topic.  In the midst of a cascading tidal wave of squeaking fuzz balls, this confusing topic about munchkins had lost its appeal. 

“What’s-your-name! What are you doing?”

"Just looking," was all Mairead managed to get out before the crates came tumbling down.  Before she managed to get her hands on one of the little squeakers, the woman grasped Mairead's arm.  The disappointment was easy to recognize in her face when she abandoned the creature and turned back. 

"Lose a limb?  Oh, come on," Mairead protested, color rising in her cheeks.  "They aren't even big enough to gnaw off me arm.  I'm not fragile."  Having someone act big-sisterly around her was not a familiar phenomena for her.  Tito was the only kid in their group that was actually older than her and he wasn't exactly one to warn her against the perils of mischief.  He would have been disappointed the lower two crates hadn't smashed, too, and would have suggested smashing the box to liberate its contents as well. 

It was clear this woman was a stranger, otherwise she would have known that simple pointing Mairead to the side and out of the way would have been useless.   "Sure," she lied, without any intentions of listening to the woman.  The agreement served no other purpose than the keep the woman's attention on the critters.  Mairead didn't budge an inch but continued to watch as the cluster of creatures continued to scatter, a highly amused grin on her face. 

This was fantastic!  Watching the woman watching the small creatures with her look of confused exasperation only made it more so.  Mairead couldn't help herself.  Granted, there were a lot of the little buggers and their current freedom was, admittedly, somewhat, her fault - she refused to assume all responsibility; anyone who let those things move through the street on their own with no supervision was asking for trouble.  But, the little things didn't seem to do much, or bite or move fast and they still had the upper hand against all these adults standing around.  It was hilarious.  Mairead couldn't prevent the laughter, even if she wanted to.  When one of the over-sized hamsters attached itself to the woman's leg, the laughter only intensified. 

"It - likes - ye," Mairead said between bouts of laughter.  She doubted the woman would appreciate her laughing at her in this precarious situation but, not surprisingly, that didn't do anything to subdue the laughter. 

Naturally disregarding the instructions to stay out of the way, Mairead went up to the edge of the nearest cluster and grabbed a couple of the creatures and brought them over the haphazardly reconstructed crate.  She dropped them in the crate and went to chase after a couple others.  "They're getting everywhere," she said, toted another pair to the crate.  But,  she hesitated a moment, as she watched the scattered herd chasing after any passing individual for attention.  Only one of the two puffskeins was dropped in the crate; the second was discreetly slipped in her pocket.

Mairead turned to to grab two more of the things when she noticed the hovering drawn wand in the woman's hand.  "What are ye gonna - ye aren't gonna hurt it, are ye?" she quickly asked.  The extent of what those wands could do was still, largely, a mystery.  But, she'd seen what they'd done to the brick wall and the smashed crates and knew neither scenario bode well for the thing.  "Can't ye tempt the thing off with something?  Like food or something?" 

Maggie rolled her eyes at the kid’s defensive reaction to her scolding. Sticking a hand into a moving crate, or a moving anything, was not the smartest thing to do. Maggie had actually been worried about the kid. Well, worried about her intelligence, Margaret thought.

Of course, she wasn’t in any position to judge. At this very moment she was ignoring the child, expecting her to stay put like she’d been told to do. If Margaret had been thinking clearly she would have realized how foolish this assumption was. Luckily for Mairead, she was busy staring dumbly at her wand, trying to sort out this mess.

That was when the puffskein attached itself to her leg.

“It – likes – ye,” the girl said between hoots of laugher. Margaret put her hands on her hips, turned, and glowered at the offender. The kid only laughed harder, because it gave her a great view of the puffskein nibbling at Maggie’s jeans. This was lovely. The puffskein just had to be hungry too!

“I thought I told you…” her words died in her throat as she watched the kid start picking up the creatures and dumping them back into the crates. Margaret looked at her wand, pocketed it, and shook her head. It served her right for thinking every solution to a problem had to be magical. Sometimes the simple solutions were the best. Though she hated to admit that the kid had out-witted her. 

"They're getting everywhere."

“I see that!” Maggie grumbled, limping around the street and picking up the puffskeins at an embarrassingly slow pace. She blamed the furrball attached to her ankle. It paused in its chewing and blinked up at her as she stomped around.

Margaret noticed a few of the puffskeins bouncing farther and farther away, so she took out her wand and tried a levitation spell. It hit one of them and she slowly made it float closer and closer to the crates. The poor thing seemed scared at this mode of transportation, not appreciating being off solid ground, but it was a lot safer than being hurtled through the streets in those crates. She’d have to have a word with the shopkeeper about that.

Mairead asked if she was going to hurt the puffskeins and Maggie scowled at her, offended. “No!” She picked up another using levitation. “I’m just floating them back into their crates. See, I’m even being gentle about it.” The blue puffskein bobbed in the air, past a teenager’s surprised face, and landed softly back in the crate. She thought about casting Accio Puffskeins, but decided not to when she had a frightening vision of all the puffskeins flying at her and making her a human puff-cushion.

"Can't ye tempt the thing off with something?  Like food or something?"

Margaret actually smiled. “I could, but it seems to be fond of my jeans. It must like denim. Or it must be really hungry.”

“I’m Maggie,” she finally introduced herself, scooping up more creatures into her arms. The kid could either reply with her own name, or Maggie would just have to call her Munchkin from now on. She didn’t mind either way.

“Are you starting Hogwarts in the fall?” She looked to be that age, perhaps a bit younger. It was clear that this whole magical environment was new to her. She was probably muggleborn or part muggle. Anyway, Margaret would definitely be able to describe the girl to her younger sister when she got home. Lexie would be excited to know of someone who she’d be sharing class with at Hogwarts.

Margaret quirked an eyebrow when she saw a puffskein peek out from Mairead’s pocket. “It looks like you have a fan, too,” she said with amusement. She wasn’t exactly sure how the puffskein ended up in the girl’s pocket, but Maggie figured it wasn’t her business anyway.

Self-propelled crates were well beyond Mairead's normal understanding of the world to start with.  The chances that she'd already have some sense of etiquette or protocol about them was, pretty much, non-existent in her mind.  In her mind, unattended parcels of any kind were asking to be inspected by the curious.  Who, really, in their right mind would anyone leave a lone box on a street corner and not expect someone's curiosity to lead them to peak inside?  It wasn't her fault if this woman  lacked the adventurous spirit to see that.  Nor was it her fault if the woman's insistence on taking the situation so seriously only added to the hilarity. 

"I wasn't really listening," Mairead admitted, her voice somewhat muffled by her biting her lip in hopes of managing to stifle some of the laughter.  She grinned at the woman, watching as she started to follow Maireads lead and grab the things.  Her own fingers cupped around a few more of the critters, chuckling slightly as the one in her pocket seemed to nose her side. 

Mairead looked up from the puddle of fur where the highest density of puffskeins were milling about.  The initial stampeded had passed, that was clear.  But, all up and down the ally, small puffs of fur could be seen hopping madly after shoppers as they moved in and out of shops or chasing people around corners and down side streets.  "They're faster then ye'd expect," 

Mairead turned and looked back at the woman in time to see the blue ball of fur lifted from the ground and drawn through the air back to her.  "Wow!"  Mairead exclaimed, a look of confused excitement on her face.  "They fly?  But - they don't even have wings!" 

“No!” She picked up another using levitation. “I’m just floating them back into their crates. See, I’m even being gentle about it.”

So, that explained it.  They didn't fly.  Or, at least, in that instance the thing hadn't made itself fly.  The woman had used magic again.  "Wow." She said again, now entirely captivated by the thing's trek across the air.  "Is that hard?" she asked, turning towards the woman, the laughter now passed. 

A couple weeks ago, a strange looking woman had approached their camp.  Naturally, she'd raised suspicions much as any outsider would.  Usually, the suspicion lingered; they were used to trouble from outsiders and most visited them to either send them moving on their way or to accuse them of some petty crime - like the theft of a missing chicken or a flat tire.  Strangely, suspicions had died quickly about the woman  and, after a rather long-winded conversation, they'd all agreed Mairead would be coming to this strange school.  Looking back, Mairead knew she should have paid closer attention, but there came a point when any conversation, no matter what it was about, got too long-winded to hold her attention.  The meaning of the conversation hadn't really settled in until after dinner that night, when the woman was long gone.  She hadn't, yet, asked any proper questions of anyone.  But, here was a woman, levitating a - whatever she called it.

"Then, tempt it off with another piece of jean," Mairead said, more confusion than amusement in her voice now.  Her interest in the whole situation had, quite definitively, shifted.  "Or ... can't ye just ... levitate it off.  Or make it not want denim ... or cut off yer jeans and - and - stick it back on?"  Was any of that possible? 

Mairead nodded her head, grinning slightly as the woman introduced herself.  The escaping puffskeins partially forgotten.  "I'm Mairead," she offered, grinning again.  It occurred to her, though, that Maggie might not be aware of the current source of Mairead's amusement.  "It's gaelic for Margaret, ye know."  She nodded her head again.  "I am.  Hogwarts - that's the - ye know, special school."  Luckily, her mother had reminded her about the need to keep some sense of secrecy about all of this.  Mairead vaguely remembered the woman mentioning it but it had been lost in her own head at the time.  Who knew whether she was still supposed to be secret about it, even surrounded by racing crates and flying puffballs.  But, it seemed best to play it safe. 

She glanced down at her pocket and the protruding nose.  "Huh - I didn't notice."  A purple one by the looks of it.  Mairead shrugged her shoulder and looked back to Maggie, slipping her hands in her pockets, cupping her hand around the thing.

Margaret snorted at the kid’s amazed expression. “It’s not hard,” she shrugged, gesturing with her wand and sending another puffskein floating through the air. “It’s the type of spells that first years learn.”

Maggie looked around and noticed that they were finally getting somewhere. Through levitation and simply picking up the buggers, they’d returned most of the puffskeins to the crates. She let out a sigh of relief, bent down, and stared at the fluff still attached to her leg. Maggie patted its head absently.

“You are just a pain in the-“ She cut herself off mid-sentence when the puffskein cooed at her and hopped off her leg. She looked up at Mairead, dumbfounded. Was that all she needed to do? Pat the creature on the head and insult it in a gentle tone?

Smirking, Maggie picked up the puff and set it in the crate. If only that trick worked on clumsy children!

“Mairead,” Margaret repeated the girl’s name when she introduced herself. She hadn’t known that it was Gaelic for Margaret, but the name definitely fit the kid’s Irish accent. Maggie grinned.

“Well, your family had good taste.”

There was a second disturbance barreling through the streets, making more noise than the puffskeins ever had and offending more shoppers too. Maggie watched as a red-faced woman shoved through the crowd with a handful of puffskeins and a look that could kill. She dumped the puffskeins into the crate and turned around to glare at everyone.

“Who let the puffskeins loose? Huh? I need those to run my business, you know!”

Maggie looked at Mairead and shrugged innocently. “Our job here is done,” she shared a smile with the girl and led her away from some of the chaos. On their way past the irate shopkeeper, Margaret couldn’t stop herself from making a comment.

“You know,” she paused until the woman looked at her. “Next time, it might be a bad idea to send your stock hurtling through the streets at light-speed. People could get hurt, the creatures could get hurt, and it could really hurt your business if a magizoologist shows up at your shop and does an inspection.”

Margaret let her words sink in and continued on walking, trying her best not to snicker. When they were a few yards away, she glanced at Mairead and wondered how Hogwarts was going to survive her.

“So. Where do you need to go? I can show you the way,” Maggie offered, realizing too late that the kid might shove a list of supplies at her. At this rate, she'd never find an outfit for tomorrow!

No matter what Maggie said, Mairead was still amazed.  It wasn't every day someone saw rodents whizzing through the air, without having had someone toss them.  Maybe here it was more common.  Though, judging by the variety of glances sent her way, having the things whizz around everywhere wasn't a daily occurrence. 

Mairead set to helping gather the last of the puffskeins that were still around, her mind getting thoroughly lost in the woman's comments.  "It's the type of spells that first years learn."  It occurred to her, as she dropped another pair of fur balls, that that meant her.  She'd be learning to do that.  She'd be waving sticks around and making things fly that weren't supposed to fly.  It was an exciting notion. 

When Mairead dropped the last pair of creatures in the crate, she spotted the other woman pat the creature on her leg and the puffskein jump ship.  Mairead clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the snort of a laugh as the creature was plopped in the crate.  "That was easy," she said, grinning broadly. 

 Mairead looked up quickly at the sound of something else crashing down the street.  She recognized the signs of trouble easily as the furious woman approached; she was quite familiar with the consequences of mischief.  Quickly, her hand slipped in her pocket again, making sure the purple puffskein hidden there was well out of sight.  She cast a quick glance at Maggie, fully expecting the older woman to rat her out. 

She'd grown defensive long before the woman started throwing out the questions and accusations.  Expecting Maggie to immediately offer an explanation of how Mairead had toppled the crates and stolen one, Mairead opened her mouth to defensively deny everything.  "I haven't - "  But, before she could dig herself any deeper of a hole, she caught Maggie's innocent glance and shrug.  To her surprise, the older woman was helping her out of the fix.  Mairead didn't need her to offer twice.  She turned quickly and started down the street away from the scene of the accident. 

As they moved past the woman, Mairead overheard Maggie's comment.  A grin settled on her face once they were beyond the woman and Mairead looked up at Maggie.  "Thanks," she offered, glancing over her shoulder back at the scene just to be sure.  "I was certain you were - ye know, gonna rat me out.  So, were they hers?  She sells them?" 

“So. Where do you need to go? I can show you the way,”

Mairead shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.  "I don't really have any place to go," Mairead admitted.  "I just came out to explore and look around.  I'm supposed to buy me supplies at some point, but I have to find someone first.  Someone from the school's supposed to be helping me - we're meeting her tomorrow at the school."

Maggie wasn’t sure what she’d done, but the girl was grinning from ear to ear as they walked. It was probably because of all the new sights and experiences. Or, it could be that they’d just escaped the shopkeeper’s clutches.

"Thanks," she offered, glancing over her shoulder back at the scene just to be sure.  "I was certain you were - ye know, gonna rat me out.”

Margaret blinked at her and shrugged. “Eh, I wasn’t a fan of how she handled the puffs. It’s no biggie.” She wasn’t going to blame the kid for being curious. She could have asked Mairead to give back the pet currently snuggled in her pocket, but that involved effort. Plus, she didn't think one missing puffskein would ruin someone's business.

“Yeah, it looks like the puffskeins were hers,” she answered. “Though if you want to get food and things for your little friend…” she smirked. “I’d go to the Magical Menagerie. They treat the creatures well there and can give you tips on how to take care of them.” Margaret considered visiting her friend Kia at the clinic as well, but she’d figure it out later. First they’d do some shopping.

“A professor will probably be helping you tomorrow,” Maggie told her, after she learned Mairead would be meeting someone at the castle. “Do you know her name?” Perhaps Margaret knew her from her own schooldays at Hogwarts. She thought it was very odd that Mairead was getting help from the staff to find supplies, when that was normally what children’s parents did closer to the school year. Even the muggle parents figured out the standard supplies list eventually.

Maggie gave her a puzzled look, trying to remember if Mairead had talked about family at all, or any adults that might be with her. Somebody had to be accompanying her. Margaret just didn’t know who it could be. She shook her head slightly, deciding it was none of her business.

As they wandered around Diagon Alley, Maggie couldn’t help but be amused by Mairead’s reactions. Though her little brother and sister went wild over the latest new brooms and other magical items, they were fairly used to seeing magic and how it worked because they grew up with it. Mairead had never been exposed to this before. They passed a potions shop, with bottles of all shapes and sizes on display, some that resembled perfume bottles, and others that looked more at home in a mad scientist’s laboratory. There was the Quidditch Supplies shop, overwhelmed by its usual gaggle of children with their noses pressed to the glass. They went by the Owl Emporium, where Maggie explained how owls were handy for delivering mail (as long as you remembered to give them a treat once in a while for their efforts). Mairead’s questions were numerous and somewhat exhausting, but Maggie didn’t mind them nearly as much as she pretended to.

“Many of the stalls and shops are setting up for Remembering week,” Maggie gestured towards the fireworks display. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from the professor,” she added dismissively, at a loss for how to explain the reason for the event to a muggleborn eleven-year old. Margaret supposed she’d answer what questions she could if Mairead asked, but she wasn’t thrilled about it.

Margaret soon spotted Madam Malkin’s and paused in front of the window, considering. She hadn’t been in there for years. Most of her clothes needed replacing from the traveling she’d done over Europe, but Maggie needed to take it one step at a time. For now, she’d just focus on finding something decent to wear tomorrow.

Maggie tore her gaze from the displays of robes and glanced around again for Mairead.

Mairead glanced up and grinned at her older companion and shrugged her shoulders.  Whatever the woman's reasons, Mairead was grateful she'd managed to avoid getting in trouble the first hour she was in this place.  Or, perhaps, more correctly, that she'd avoid getting blamed for causing the trouble she'd gotten into. 

Her mother had warned her that Mairead probably wouldn't be able to act the same way she did at home - but then her mother frequently tried to convince her to act differently at home as well.  With fifteen of them living together and not one of them regularly and reliably employed, extra money wasn't a common commodity.  They lived very frugally and, if one of the kids wanted something considered non-essential, like sweets or small fluffy creatures that served no real, useful purpose, the children had to find their own way of getting it.  Stealing, panhandling for extra change were all possibilities.  And, they had reputations at home for being troublesome, problematic, petty thieves.  It was highly unlikely any strangers back home would have helped her get off the hook for pocketing anything.  Maggie had instantly become cool in Mairead's eyes.

When Maggie mentioned the pilfered creature, Mairead reached in her pocket and tugged out the ball of fur.  The round, beady eyes gaze back up at her from amidst the purple fur.  "I've got to buy it food?"  Mairead asked, as she ran a finger over the fluffy back, which the thing seemed to thoroughly enjoy.  "Can't it just eat what I eat?  And ... how can I tell, ye know, if it's a boy or girl?"  She held the puffball up towards Maggie, clearly expecting the older woman to immediately determine the creature's sex.

Mairead followed Maggie down the street, usually only realizing the woman had changed direction or stopped when Mairead stepped into the back of her.  Rarely was Mairead's attention strictly on where she was going.  It wavered from the shop windows on one side to the creature in her hand to the shop windows on the other side, or, on occasion, the strange costume of some person they passed. 

"Aye, yea," Mairead answered, nodding her head.  They were, indeed, here to meet a woman at some other town.  "In some pig's town.  Or something like that.  Not pigs but - boars?  Hogs?  I can't remember," she mumbled as she trailed behind Maggie.  The name of the woman they were meeting was even stranger than the town.  "Um...she's called - Orp- No, I ... I can't remember.  Wait, one second." 

Mairead stopped, and slipped the puffskein back in her pocket, exchanging it for a piece of paper.  It, supposedly, listed the details about who they were meeting and where.  Of course, the memo did little to spark Mairead's memory.  Without attempting to read it, Mairead handed it over to Maggie for her to answer the question herself.  "

"I'm staying with her," Mairead offered in explanation, oblivious to the fact Maggie hadn't asked for one.  "For the summer.  Me mum can't stay with all the fairs and such going on at home.  She has to go home tomorrow but we're meeting that woman at the town."  As if the explanation had just reminded her that Mairead was, in fact, still here with her mother (which it had just reminded her), Mairead glanced over her shoulder to scan the street.  Surely, by now her mother had discovered that Mairead wasn't sitting, patiently awaiting her in the pub.  She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Maggie.  Her mother would, undoubtedly, come looking for her when she needed her.

Maggie was no longer walking in front of Mairead when Mairead had turned back.  Stopping, Mairead glanced around and noticed her companion standing in front of the window to a shop.  Compared to everything else that lined the street, the shop filled with clothes was rather anti-climatic.  "They're clothes," Mairead pointed out blankly, looking up at Maggie, clearly believing the older girl had completely lost her mind to bother stopping at something so mundane.  They were fancy, long robes, yes.  But, fancy meant way too expensive for her and, therefore, irrelevant. 

With a quick, and hearty sigh that made it obvious Mairead believed she was humoring Maggie by showing an interest, she looked back.  "So, why do you all have a day to remember things?"  Mairead asked, the window full of clothes posing no chance of diverting her attention from the comment.  "Are you all forgetful?"  It seemed possible; perhaps with magic doing everything for them, they lost the ability to remember things.

"Can't it just eat what I eat?  And ... how can I tell, ye know, if it's a boy or girl?"  She held the puffball up towards Maggie, clearly expecting the older woman to immediately determine the creature's sex.

Maggie startled when the child suddenly shoved the puffskein up to her face, but she recovered quickly enough. The creature’s little beady eyes seemed to widen as she scowled down at it. It let out a squeak and Margaret gently pushed the puff back at Mairead.

“How should I know? It’s all fluff to me,” she shrugged. “I don’t think it would care either way if you called it Miss Frou Frou or the Rock,” she snickered, and then gave Mairead a stern look. “…As long as you take care of it and feed it properly. If you give it candy all the time it’ll get sick, and the puffball will be too pudgy to fit in your pocket.”

A pudgy, sugar-high puffskein. The idea amused her, though she tried not to let it show on her face.

Margaret chuckled when Mairead couldn’t remember the name of the town she would meet the professor in tomorrow. She let her go on for a while, naming boars and pigs and every possible variant, until Maggie finally decided to interrupt her.

“Hogsmeade?” She smirked. Mairead handed her the note and Maggie studied it, wondering why the professor’s name didn’t sound familiar.

“Ophelia Grimlish,” she read, quirking an eyebrow. “Huh. I’ve never heard of her. She might be new or she might not; I haven’t been around for a while so I’m sort of lost on the Hogwarts news and gossip.”

"I'm staying with her," Mairead offered in explanation, oblivious to the fact Maggie hadn't asked for one.  "For the summer.  Me mum can't stay with all the fairs and such going on at home.  She has to go home tomorrow but we're meeting that woman at the town."

Maggie felt relieved that the kid did indeed have a mum, so that she wasn’t wandering around alone or totally dependent on the school. It was nice of the professor to help out the incoming first year. Margaret hoped, for the professor’s sake, that Grimlish was quick on her feet and could handle Mairead’s energy (and curiosity). 

“Fairs and such…” Maggie repeated, watching her scan the streets with an almost guilty look. Glancing around, Maggie didn't see anything unusual. “What types of fairs? Carnivals? The circus?”

The kid was an odd one. Margaret wouldn’t be surprised if Mairead was a trapeze artist in training, or something like that. Perhaps something that required less coordination.

As Margaret stopped in front of Madam Malkin’s and stared at the robes with growing dread, she forgot to keep an eye on Mairead. Luckily, the kid made her way back, probably just to point out the obvious.

“They’re clothes.”

Maggie let out her own exasperated sigh at the same time Mairead did. “I know they’re clothes,” she said, rolling her eyes at her. “I hate shopping for clothes,” she took another glance at the shop window and then stalked past it. She doubted Mairead had the patience to wait for her to try something on, and Maggie knew without a doubt that trying to shop with the kid around would drive her crazy.

Margaret was about to suggest they go into the Magical Menagerie and talk to someone about what puffskeins actually ate, when Mairead piped up with the question she least wanted to hear.

"So, why do you all have a day to remember things? Are you all forgetful?"
 
Her expression clouded. “No,” she said curtly, then sighed. “All right, this isn’t going to be easy to explain.” Maggie lowered her voice and tried to make her tone a little nicer. “It’s basically a… memorial of sorts. Remembering people who lost their lives ten years ago. In a war,” she supplied, walking at her usual fast pace instead of the slow meandering they’d done earlier.

“A wizarding war,” she clarified after a pause. “I mean, muggles… non-wizarding folk… were affected unfortunately, but it was largely kept to our population, which is why, well, you don’t hear about it in your muggle textbooks.”

Maggie glanced at the girl. Mairead had been so young when the Battle of Hogwarts had happened, which was good because she couldn’t know what it was like. At the same time, though, she had a lot to learn. Feeling conflicted about how much to explain, Maggie bolted forward when she saw the sign she was looking for.

“There it is, Magical Menagerie. Want to go in?” It was a cheap shot, trying to change the subject like that, but it was all Maggie could do.

Mairead didn't bother trying to hide the slight satisfied grin that settled on her face.  Perhaps it was the relative ease or perhaps it was, simultaneously, the woman's obvious frustration and willingness to tolerate her.  Whatever it might have been, Mairead was thoroughly enjoying every sigh, rolled eye and, in the case of her request for Maggie to tell her the sex of her new pet, startled reaction.  Clearly, this woman didn't spend a lot of time around kids - or, at least, kids like Mairead.  This was all far too easy.

"I don't know," Mairead rebutted, the grin still evident on her face.  How was she to know what these witches or wizards could or couldn't do.  "I figured ye could just waggle that stick and ... I don't know ... it'd tell ye.  Or, magically ... um ...  grow a skirt?  How'm I to know what ye can or can't know?"  The grin quickly dropped from her face, though, and she stopped, turning towards the woman.  "I'm not an idiot," she said, clearly taking offense.  "I wouldn't just feed it candy."  The assumption that, yes, she would be foolish enough to feed any animal candy had, indeed, offended her.  Just as much, though, the notion that, if she could get her hands on sweets everyday, she'd sacrifice such things to the creature also offended her. 

Hogsmeade.  Mairead nodded her head as she slipped the purple fluff ball back in her pocket.  "Yea, her," Mairead said, taking the note back from Maggie.  It was still a strange sounding name; Mairead was fairly certain she'd probably forget it in a few minutes.  "She teaches deveining or something like that.  I didn't pay much attention."  In fact, Mairead had been rather distracted by the visiting woman's hat at the time.  And Tito whispering jokes to her about the relative idiocy of anyone who'd venture in public in such a hat. 

"The circus?"  Mairead repeated back, the woman's question drawing her out of her own thoughts a bit late.  There was a renewed enthusiasm and interest in her voice until she fully worked through what the woman was asking.  "No..." Mairead said, slowly, shaking her head.  Then, with more emphasis, "No!  I - we're not ... Bloody eh!  No, horse fairs," she said, clearly fully believing that should have been obvious.  "Like in Ballinasloe ... or ... I think they have one here in Appleby."  The lines between the magical and muggle world hadn't actually become clear in her mind, yet.

There was something strange about this woman.  Perhaps it was just a side effect of the whole witch and wizard thing.  Maggie assumed strangers were from circuses and stopped in front of clothing stores when she hated shopping for clothes.  Mairead slowly shook her head; hopefully it wasn't just the effects of being a witch, otherwise, Mairead realized with a shiver, it would happen to her.  With the image of herself slowly melting into something that roughly resembled Maggie filling her head, Maiead followed the older woman away from the shop window. 

"I don't go shopping for clothes much," Mairead was explaining, again without prompting.  "We just get whatever they-" 

Mairead froze, fully aware she'd, somehow, struck a nerve.  Her eyes widened slightly, Mairead watched Maggie closely, knowing better than to make any comments as the older girl offered an explanation.  "Oh," she said, quietly.  She was torn between an uneasy sympathy and complete confusion.  A war.  Ten years ago.  Sure, she would have been a year and a half old and too young to remember anything but she was sure she would have heard stories.  Almost every night old man Oisin reminisced about something.  Maggie had started walking again but, for a few moments, Mairead hesitated, unsure whether to follow.  But, when Maggie spoke, Mairead stepped forward, eager to catch up. 
 
"I didn't have textbooks.  I didn't go to school."  Not sure what to say, Mairead had grappled for whatever seemed the most tangible - the most familiar to her.  It was the only part of the whole explanation she could really wrap her head around how it related to her.  And, even then, it didn't quite relate. 

Mairead looked up at the sign to the shop, her eyes scanning over the lettering as Maggie offered the name of the shop.  Despite the cryptic nature of the shop name, it was clear the other was trying to offer a distraction.  "What does menagerie mean?" Mairead asked, glancing at the shop window.  Slowly, she stepped up to the window and peered into the shop.