Diagon Alley was abuzz with the usual activity one would expect in the weeks preceding Christmas. Parents bustled about the crowded streets with young children, laden with neatly wrapped parcels and packages, making preparations and shopping for the holidays. It was easy to pick out the parents with children still at school – they were the less frazzled, without toddles hanging at their arms demanding sweets and toys and brightly coloured trinkets from the street side vendors that set up during the Christmas season. As she watched the parade of people trailing up and down the street from her vantage point just inside the enchanted entrance to the Alley, Lynda Vance reached into her pocketbook. After searching through and encountering her wand, a tube of lip-gloss, a self-inking quill, some hairpins, a package of ice mice and her purse, she finally found what she was searching for. With a slight smile she withdrew a crumpled and faded bit of parchment scrawled with her handwriting and started slowly down the cobbled lane.

Norbert and Hector had provided her with an ample list of their Christmas wishes, each addition more incredible than the last. Everything from enchanted gnome eggs to their own pet dragon – neither of which they would be getting, obviously, since her family valued their lives and the law. No, the boys would have to settle with something a little less fantastic. Lynda searched up and down as she ambled on the sidewalk, peering into shop windows, pausing here and there. She tucked the parchment into her coat pocket and stopped at Flourish and Blotts. She’d always loved Christmas in the wizarding world. Bright, colourful baubles floated in the air just outside the shops, garlands of holly and ivy draped over the light posts and strings of tinsel sparkling in the light. That wasn’t to say that the shops in Muggle London weren’t lovely – they were, particularly in light of the continued rationing and limited supplies – but there was something indelibly romantic about the sparkling decorations that bedecked every single shop and the tinkling of Christmas carols from enchanted bells. Even Lynda, pragmatic as she was, couldn’t help but smile as she stepped through a misty haze of enchanted snowflakes that landed in her hair as she stepped into the shop.

Quite unlike the frostiness outside, the bookstore was warm and cosy, so Lynda loosened her scarf as she stood just inside the doorway, deciding where to go first. The bell above the door jingled and Lynda stepped to the side in an attempt to get out of the way. As usual, her misguided attempts at avoiding collision inevitably sent her colliding with yet another unsuspecting victim. She winced as her heel connected with a soft and squishy foot belonging to – Lynda looked up apologetically and bit her lip – a cranky-looking old wizard with a pile of books in his arms and a scowl on his face. “I’m so sorry,” Lynda said automatically. She was very much used to this sort of thing. Natural clumsiness had made her more or less immune to all forms of snappish remarks, so she merely held out her hand in a rueful gesture, shrugged meekly and continued on her way before the man decided to stop muttering at the insolence of youth and start hexing her instead.

Escaping quickly behind the nearest bookshelf, Lynda let out a slightly relieved breath and unconsciously twisted her bracelet around her slender wrist, idly examining the titles of the books at eye level to ascertain exactly where she’d escaped to. She wanted to buy a book on advanced magical theory for her father, who had, seeing as all three of his children were now fully entrenched in the wizarding world, begun to take a wider interest in the workings of magic, and she figured this was her logical starting point. It quickly became apparent that she’d wandered into the wrong section of the bookstore. Starting slightly at the title of the book in front of her – ‘Spirits of the (Sensual) Season’ by Tallulah Twixt – she leaned forward without thinking to look at the front cover. She blinked at the image that graced the cover – a buxom blonde with a sheer negligee draped in front of a Christmas tree, a tall, handsome man in an open shirt and dark hair draped over her and doing ... Lynda tilted her head to the side, taking an inadvertent step forward. Well, she didn’t know what was going on there, but she sure as heck wasn’t going to find her father’s birthday present here!

“It’s a lovely book, dear.” Lynda jumped back, startled beyond belief and more than a little embarrassed. She looked up to see who had spoken, her face slightly flushed, and smiled wanly at the cheerful middle aged witch in front of her. The woman thrust a copy of the book into her hand, pointing enthusiastically at the front cover. “The book, dear,” she repeated. “It’s lovely! So romantic. It is nice to see a young girl like you so entranced by good literature.”

“Erm ...” Lynda said, with a quick smile and nod. “Yes. Thank you.” Then she made her escape, book still in hand. Lynda Vance had never been the type to read romance novels. She’d read her fair share of Muggle classical literature, particularly the works of Jane Austen, but that was where her exposure to that sort of thing ended. Good literature, indeed. Lynda let out a slight laugh and shook her head, proceeding quickly to the far end of the store where she was more likely to find her father’s present. As she rounded a corner, still vastly amused by her encounter with the exuberant woman, Lynda wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings. And she collided with her second victim of the day, bouncing right back and careening into the bookshelf beside her. “Oh, no!” she muttered, turning her head quickly to the bookshelf, which was tottering slightly under the weight of the impact.