A/N: This is a sequel to another story called Ginny Potter and Hell's Portal, following an OC named Imogen Dahl and James Potter. I am writing with the realization that not everyone wants to read more than one fanfic story. There shouldn't be any reason you have to read the first one, but if you would like it you can find it under my profile.

Reviews are always appreciated, encouraged, and (if you do it while logged in) responded to! Thanks all!

The Song

In the meadow
In the meadow
Just before the sun will rise

Imogen closed her eyes, letting long, thin fingers run through her hair. Her mother's sweet voice was like a soft flute and the song felt familiar, but she wasn't sure why.

Meet me there
And find a rainbow
Then you always will be mine

When she looked up, she saw the sheets of white-blonde hair, so like her own, had been pulled over her mother's right shoulder. Her golden brown eyes were half closed as she smiled and sang.

Down the stream,
And through the hollow
There you'll see—

"Imogen."

—lad

"Imogen, the feast is starting soon."

Imogen kept trying to listen, but the voice faded, the feel of fingers lessened, and the beautiful face was gone. She opened her eyes and Lily stood over her, red hair hanging haphazardly as she waved her hand inches from Imogen's face. "Oh good," she said as Imogen pushed her hand away. "I thought maybe O.W.L.s had finally done you in. Mum and Dad would have been devastated. You're their favorite, you know."

This wasn't true. Imogen knew she was just the one teenager in the house that never really argued when asked to do something.

"It was so nice out today, I just wanted to sit in the grass for a while," Imogen said, rubbing her eyes. "I guess I fell asleep."

"Guess so," said Lily with a grin.

Imogen had lived with the Potter family for just over two years now. She was used to Lily's teasing grin the same way she was used to Albus's obsession with beating his Uncle Ron at chess, and Ginny's tendency to get a short fuse when writing about the Holyhead Harpies after they lost.

"Well, come on," Lily said. "James is probably wondering where you are."

When they arrived at the Great Hall, James was standing at the entrance. He reached out, grabbed Imogen's hands, and pulled her in for a kiss. "You gonna sit with me?"

Imogen had been sorted into Ravenclaw, which meant splitting meal times between James (who she had dated for as long as she had been with the Potters, and was a Gryffindor) and her own house. Today, the hall was decked out with red and gold, though. She couldn't imagine that the Gryffindors would want her butting into their celebration of winning the house cup. Ravenclaw had it the past two years and Slytherin the year before, making this the first time in four years that Gryffindor won. Already, Lily had run in, standing on the bench of the Gryffindor table between two of her friends. One of them flicked her wand, starting loud, upbeat music, and the three of them danced what looked liked a choreographed number to the applause and catcalls of those around them. Albus looked completely embarrassed by his sister.

"I told Lorcan to save me a seat," Imogen said.

James let out a breath, tilting his head. "Come on, we're going to see them next week."

"And I'm going home with you," she countered. She went up on tiptoes, kissing him.

"Fine, but I call dibs on having you with me on the train." It was a moot point, as they could all fit into a compartment just fine.

They entered the Great Hall, James holding on to her hand as long as possible as they separated. He started doing a champion's run when he got to the Gryffindor table, giving high fives and fist bumps to all his friends from his house as he went down the row.

Imogen couldn't help but laugh as Lily pointed straight at her before doing a cartoonish shimmy, her vivid hair bouncing around her. Imogen sunk into the seat beside Lorcan Scamander.

Lorcan was Imogen's best friend. When the Potters took her in, Imogen was fourteen and had never attended wizarding school. Because of this she was placed with the third year Ravenclaws, despite her age, in hopes that she would have time to catch up by O.W.L.s. Though Ginny had taught her quite a bit, she was still painfully behind when she arrived and wondered if catching up was even possible. Their head of house, Professor Sinistra, assigned the prefects at the time to help tutor her, but it was Lorcan who helped the most. Patient and smart, he was easier to approach with questions. It helped that they were in the same classes as well. She'd become good friends with him before James realized and told her that Lorcan's mother, Luna, was a close friend to his parents, Ginny and Harry. This year, Lorcan and Imogen were assigned as prefects, giving them even more time to spend with one another.

"Why don't you just ask her out?" Imogen asked quietly as Lorcan watched Lily.

"I heard she just broke things off with Bryant," Lorcan replied, looking away as the Professors all entered the Great Hall, ending the dance party at the Gryffindor table. "I don't want to be her rebound."

There was always some excuse: Lily fancied someone else, Lorcan was too busy studying for O.W.L.s, it was bad timing with summer coming up, and so on. Lorcan had liked Lily for as long as Imogen had known him—apparently longer, as they had grown up together. The problem was he talked himself out of even the simplest conversation with her. It didn't seem to matter that Imogen had offered a hundred times to talk to Lily for him, the most he'd ever done was talk about some future date he would work up the courage and do it himself.

"Maybe when you're visiting The Borrow next week," Lorcan mused.

It wasn't as though he weren't handsome. His twin brother, Lysander, looked very similar to Lorcan. Both had golden brown hair with loose curls, wide and friendly eyes (Lysander's were green and Lorcan's grey), and tall statures. Only Lysander seemed to understand he was handsome, earning the general attention from all the Ravenclaw girls in their year and half of those from other houses. Lorcan, both too humble and too shy, lacked confidence and buried himself in his school work instead of facing the dreaded world of girls.

The end of the year feast went as expected. Professor Morrigan, the headmistress appointed when McGonagall retired the year before, gave her congratulations to Gryffindor, to the graduates, and to the student body in general. They ate copious amounts of food before they were given information regarding departures the next morning and then dismissed for the night.

James weaved through the crowd, finding Imogen in the entryway. "I'll see you in the common room," she told Lorcan as James pulled her away. He brought out his invisibility cloak and threw it over the two them, going up and up until they made it to the Room of Requirement.

When they entered, it was apparent James had made plans. The room was cozy, with pillows and a long, grey couch, and bottles of Firewhisky and Butterbeer, which Imogen knew wasn't a product of the room. Imogen grabbed a Butterbeer and sat on one side of the couch. A fire crackled, though no heat emitted from the grate. Candles were scattered across the edges of the room. Still, there was a homey quality behind the romantic mood James had set. Wooden floors and a stone fireplace reminded Imogen of the cottage James and Ginny lived in when they met Imogen in Australia.

James grabbed a drink himself and sat next to Imogen. He pulled her legs over and onto his lap. "To the end of the year," he said with a grin, lifting his bottle. Imogen tapped hers to his and they both drank. "And then," he continued, "I'll get into the Auror academy and while you're at school next year, I'll find a flat for us."

"I still have two years left," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but you'll be of age at the end of this summer," James calculated.

Imogen was still pretty sure Ginny and Harry wouldn't approve until she graduated. She didn't bring this up, though. Aside from the fact that James didn't care if his parents approved of his plans, he started on a tirade the last time she brought this up. Still, Imogen felt the need to appease the Potters somewhat. Ginny and Harry didn't have to take her in, after all. They had done so much for her. Ginny had written to the previous headmistress, gotten her into school, and they had both taken her in like one of their own. Imogen didn't like the idea of upsetting them.

She reached out her hand and James held his just above hers, about half a foot apart. It was a gesture that had started between them last summer. She wiggled her fingers and little sparks flitted around between their palms. One reason Ginny wrote to the headmistress in the first place was because Imogen showed signs of being a wandless witch. It wasn't something Imogen entirely understood yet, though the old wand seller, Ollivander, and his business partner seemed impressed by it, as did Professor McGonagall, who had given Imogen private lessons in her fourth year to learn to use the skill. Apparently it was rare. So rare that none of the adults she knew had met one before. Some of the Ravenclaw students, including the Scamander twins, figured it out. Generally, though, she didn't use it around other students, not wanting to draw attention to herself. But James knew.

James knew almost everything about her. He knew that she had been born in a compound, where her parents had been kept under the Imperius Curse and used for their magic. He knew that when she was eleven, Imogen had snapped herself and her parents from the curse and saw them die as they tried to escape. She somehow survived and a man by the name of Peter Bennett found her wandering the Australian desert alone—dehydrated, sunburned, but alive. James knew about the group Imogen had been a part of between being found and meeting him. They both participated in the fight to free others at the dreaded compound. He was there to save his dad. She was there on behalf of her parents, who couldn't be.

"How many O.W.L.s do you think you got?" James asked.

The simple question made Imogen's stomach churn. She'd tried very hard not to think about it. James had been doing his N.E.W.T. exams right up to the end, and between both of them studying, there had been very little time together the last few months. She spent most of her time with Lorcan, and this past week had insisted they do nothing but find games to play. Usually exploding snaps. "I don't know," she admitted. "Is it possible to not get any?"

"Apparently my Uncle George only got a few, but even he says he didn't study," James said. "I guess I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Probably not," Imogen admitted.

James leaned in towards her and whispered, "I could take your mind off it."

Imogen hardly knew what was happening as he kissed her. He placed his own drink on the ground with his lips still on hers, then took the Butterbeer from her. Imogen's hands were on his neck so fast they hardly had a moment to feel empty. He was wrapped up around her and Imogen thought of nothing else as she lost herself in his touch, his kiss, and the euphoria of the end of the school year. James's hands moved up and down her sides, pressing Imogen into him. His right hand moved up and over her curves, finding the zipper on her robes and started to pull down as his other hand moved lower. She stiffened and pushed back, pulling away her lips. Both of them were breathless. James's bright brown eyes found hers, looking disheartened. "Not here," she said. He nodded, sitting both of them up.

Leaning against him, Imogen wrapped her arms around his middle and James kissed the top of her head. Imogen was always worried she was disappointing him… letting him down and in moments like this, more so than others. She wondered sometimes what was going to happen next year, when they weren't in the same place and when he wasn't near. Adults sometimes talked about their relationship in terms of how young they were. James didn't care about the comments, but the way they said it… like this must be temporary because of their age. Like they couldn't possibly have found the person they were spending the rest of their lives with. It worried Imogen. She knew what was at Hogwarts, and she didn't think she'd find anyone else she wanted to date, but what about when James was in the academy and meeting new people?

It was one of those things she didn't tell him: that she was afraid he might not be hers one day.

James held his hand out, palm down. She placed hers under his. Wiggling her fingers, she let the sparks flit as James talked and talked about their future. His future.

"Imogen, can I borrow your blue cardigan?" Lily burst into her room. "The one with the wooden buttons."

A week into the summer holiday and they were already packing again to go to The Borrow for a week long Weasley family reunion.

"I don't know why Mum didn't plan this later in the summer," Ginny said from the living room. She was always most stressed when conducting everyone in packing for trips. Imogen found it best to pack and clean early for this reason.

"Sure," Imogen said, going to her closet and sifting to find it. "What for?"

Lily stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. "My cousin Dominique told me she's meeting up with a muggle bloke from the village near my grandparents' house. Said he has a really cute brother a little older than me. Don't tell my mum, though."

"I would never," Imogen replied. She was tempted to ask if Lily wanted to visit Lorcan with her while they were there, but in the past Lorcan insisted he would die if she did that. "So what happened with Bryant anyway?"

Lily sat on Imogen's bed, giving her a play-by-play of the decisions that lead up to the breakup. "It was mostly mutual," Lily said. "I mean, I think he knew it was coming."

"James never really liked him," Imogen said.

Lily scoffed. "He never likes anyone I date. Thank Merlin he won't be at Hogwarts next year."

Imogen found it ironic, considering the disapproval James faced when dating her in Australia. There was one man named Fritz in their group who had quickly become something between a father figure and older brother to Imogen. He had no patience with James, though by the end he seemed to be softening. Having died in their actions at the compound, Imogen could only imagine what he might think now.

"Did you have someone else you fancy, then?"

"No," Lily said, contemplating. "I'm kinda over the whole thing. I think I'll just spend time with friends next year."

Imogen had heard Lily say this before. Her first date was to Hogsmeade in the middle of the prior year and it seemed that she had a new boyfriend every couple months since. The longest was when she dated Graham Novak from Slytherin for four months, but he had screwed things up when Lily caught him snogging Constance Stokes after Gryffindor beat Slytherin in a match this past November.

"You should bring that sun dress," Lily said, standing up. "It's cute."

By early afternoon, everyone was ready and they took the floo network into The Burrow. Grandma Weasley pulled Imogen from the grate and into a rib-crushing hug. "Hello, dear," she said. "How were your exams?"

"Good," Imogen said, but this was all she got in as Lily came behind her, receiving the same greeting. One after another, each Potter came through. James entered through the kitchen, apparating on his own rather than follow his family. He was talking with Fleur, Dominique, and Louis coming into the living room behind them.

The room was getting rather cramped, but Fleur still noticed Imogen. "Ma bichette!" she declared, pulling Imogen into a hug, then holding her at arm's length. Of all the extended family, Fleur was always the most doting towards Imogen. Fleur often looked at Imogen and declared she had always wanted four children, rather than three. "Your 'air! Ve must fix zis braid," she said, turning Imogen around and untying her hair, which had been done by Ginny that morning. Ginny, who was giving Bill a kiss on the cheek gave a strained look their direction and Imogen looked guiltily away.

She knew it bothered Ginny when Fleur did this, but Imogen couldn't help but love the affection. Imogen also knew she was prettier under Fleur's care. The simple difference, even in a braid, was like trading out an opal for a diamond, but it wasn't just the vanity that appealed to Imogen. In the deepest part of her, the part she didn't share with James, she liked being fawned over by someone who looked like her. Maybe not exactly, but the white-blonde hair and thin round face reminded her somewhat of the image that occasionally visited her dreams—the image Imogen remembered of her mother. "Zere," Fleur said. "Zat is better." She kissed Imogen's cheeks, then flitted around to Lily and Albus, asking about how they were.

"Hello, stranger," someone said right behind her.

Imogen turned and smiled wide. "Hi, Charlie," she said. Imogen had met and gotten to know Charlie in Australia, the same way she had with Ginny and then James. She leaned into his big, open arms for a hug.

"How are you?"

"I'm good," Imogen said as he released her. "How's Taylor doing?"

They talked for the next twenty minutes, Charlie giving updates on almost everyone they had known in Australia. Taylor worked with him at a dragon sanctuary in Romania, studying and training the animals. Trenton and Miles opened a shop in October in Duwick (the small wizarding village they lived in), Eben was living in Scotland and was now engaged, and Dakota was close to finishing a program that would allow her to move onto a healing school. Hearing about Dakota gave Imogen a pang of guilt. She hadn't written to her since September, and Dakota had been one of those she was closest to. She'd have to remember to write an owl soon.

"I went out for drinks with Hagrid the other day," Charlie said. "He was telling me about all you students, but he said you'd done very well in his class."

She blushed. "He may have been being nice," she said, remembering how ill she'd felt leaving that exam.

"Still, I hope you remember I'm happy to help if you do enjoy that sort of thing," Charlie said.

"Uncle Charlie!" James interrupted before Imogen had to figure out what to say to his offer. "How's Romania?"

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in various conversations, though the crowd soon moved to the garden. Albus pulled out a deck of animal feature cards from George's shop. All the cousins gathered around and drew cards that gave them ears, noses, and faces of a variety of beasts. It wasn't long before they looked like they were part of some experimental zoo. As the stars blinked in the sky, Grandma Weasley directed everyone. Rooms had been added to The Burrow as the family grew, but there still weren't enough rooms inside for everyone. Instead, the adults were all to sleep in the house and two large tents were erected in the back field. "Girls in the bigger one," Grandma Weasley said. "And little Fred's staying with you this year, so no gags." She was looking at James in particular, though he had exchanged a look with Louis at this.

There was chaos and a flurry of goodnights and instruction issued by parents.

"Sleep tight," Ginny said to Imogen, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"You should be able to invite Lorcan and Lysander for some Quidditch tomorrow afternoon," Harry added.

"Thanks," Imogen said. "Night Ginny, night Dad."

It was their first Christmas together that Imogen stopped calling Harry "Mr. Potter" and called him dad instead. When it spilled from her lips at the dinner table for the first time, she was asking for him to pass some dish or another. She felt heat rise to her cheeks. It was Harry's reaction, or more accurately his lack of one, that caused her to continue using the term. He passed whatever it was, turned back to Lily, following up with a question that continued their conversation.

She hadn't done the same with Ginny yet, though she supposed it would happen one day. It just didn't feel the same, even though they had been through so much more together. Ginny, also, was the one she'd confide a lot in, but for some reason, mum just didn't fall off her tongue the same way.

They were nearly back to the tent when Imogen noticed Lily and Dominique watching the crowd of adults still congregated around the table. "I bet they'll head in soon," Lily said.

The pair of them invited Imogen to join them, but she declined. She was rather tired. She had just changed when James came into the girls' tent, finding Imogen's individual room, with a small cot and not much besides. "Hey," he said.

"What are you doing in here?"

He stepped into her cubicle of a space, closing the flaps of canvas behind him. "I just didn't get to spend enough time with you tonight," he said. He held her face in his hands, leaning over and kissing her cheek, then her nose, then an eyelid.

"James," Imogen said, feeling every nerve tingle pleasantly. "James, I'm tired."

He swayed with her, his hands having lowered to her neck. She held onto his wrists. "Then let's go to sleep," he whispered.

"We'll get into trouble."

"We're not actually doing anything. Just sleeping." He leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll be a perfect gentleman, promise."

"But your mum… and Grandma Weasley… If they came in..."

James let out a huff. "All right," he said, kissing the tip of her nose again.

He let go and turned to leave. Imogen grabbed his hand and pulled him back around, kissing him deeply on the lips. "I love you," she whispered and he smile.

"I love you, too."

Down the stream
And through the hollow
There you'll see my favorite lad

Imogen struggled somewhere in the middle of being asleep and awake. She could hear her mother, but was very much aware she was in the cot, in the tent, at The Burrow. As the words faded, she heard the flutey voice in a sort of hum. She turned, trying to bury her face into her pillow, but it didn't help. Giving up, Imogen turned flat on her back, looking up at the canvas roof. She expected the voice to disappear but it didn't. She propped herself up on her elbows. The voice was behind her, on the other side of the tent, but it was moving away.

Jumping from bed, Imogen pulled everything from her bag. She threw on a jumper and sandals, trying not to wake anyone else on her way out. Outside, the grass was wet with dew and the sky was a murky yellow, barely touched by the sun. Imogen searched the field. A hundred yards away, there was a thin, lithe figured, dressed in green with bright hair flowing down her back. Imogen's heart raced as she ran. The sound of the song echoed in the breeze and Imogen couldn't go fast enough. She ditched her sandals in the field, as they kept getting caught in the untamed ground surrounding the lawn.

"Wait!" Imogen shouted as she made it to the wooded area. She stopped, straining her ears for the music. It was light at first, but grew as she listened.

In the meadow
In the meadow
Just before the sun will rise

Imogen moved towards it again, picking up speed as it grew louder. Again, the words disappeared into a hum of melody. She arrived in a clearing, hearing the song more loudly than before, but the woman had disappeared and there was nothing but a floating ball of light, emitting a green glow in the middle of the space. She looked all around, wondering if the woman—her mother, she was sure—was hiding within the layers of trees. Walking towards the light, Imogen noticed the song was coming from whatever this was. No person, just this remnant. Carefully, she reached out. As she touched the edge of the light, it shot back and forth across the clearing and then upward, disappearing into the pre-dawn sky.

Imogen shook herself. She had to be dreaming. But the more she tried to wake herself, the more she realized she already was awake. Walking back to The Burrow, Imogen felt the thorns and twigs beneath her feet in a way she hadn't in the rush to find the voice. She looked for her sandals in the tall grass, finding the right one stuck in small pocket of mud.

"Where were you?" James asked as she got closer to the tents. He was standing outside, stretching awake.

"Lorcan told me his mum said there's some sort of Glittering Myrmidons in the woods around here," Imogen said. "But you can only see them at sunrise."

James laughed. "Well, you can't believe everything Luna says."