A/N: Well... what can I say? I was not finished with writing for James/Imogen OR Lily/Lorcan. For anyone who hasn't read their earlier story (or the one where Imogen is introduced) it goes as follows: Ginny Potter and Hell's Portal followed by the sequel Gypsy Child both of which can be found through my profile. Knowing a lot of people just want one story, I really try to give any and all information you need so this does stand alone as well.
Reviews are SO appreciated and I do reply, if you review while signed in. Thanks for reading!
The Nursery
"No, no, you wouldn't believe it," James said. "Ten hours of flying and all I'd managed was circle back around to Birmingham."
Altair Sliva laughed heartily, rubbing at the white stubble of his beard. His wife, Jovita, was pouring more drinks, though Imogen raised her hand to decline. "We have the best wine," Jovita said.
"Oh, I don't drink," Imogen lied. She looked over at James, who tilted his head curiously, then went back to his plate as though he were entirely unsurprised. "Water is perfectly fine for me, thank you."
Jovita nodded with a tight smile. She had been closed off, compared to Altair who was jovial and talked loudly. More so, as they got more drink in him. They had been investigating the couple for the last three months in Brazil. Altair was supposedly running a business where he stole artifacts and ancient magical items from the tombs of Peru and sold them to the highest bidders. Worse yet, James had discovered he often duplicated the objects, sending dangerous, dark magic out into the world over and over again. Still, James felt there was something even worse going on, though he couldn't articulate as much to Imogen.
James had managed to get an invite for him and Imogen for a dinner. Imogen reached over under the table, grabbing his knee. He looked over to her as she used her other hand to drink from the water filled goblet. She shifted her eyes to her right, then returned to normal smiling at their hosts. "I'm afraid Jim never could figure out his directions," Imogen said, using his alias.
"Found himself to you just fine, though," Altair said, leaning forward. His wife shot him a look.
"He did," Imogen said, looking at James. He was looking back and winked.
"Your husband was telling me you're a musician, Jean," Altair added, leaning back.
"Oh, hardly," Imogen replied. "My father used to sing to me, so I can manage a tune, but musician is a gross exaggeration."
"Natural ability," Altair said. "Even better. Come! I want to show you my collection of muggle instruments from South American cultures."
Imogen looked to James who swallowed, but kept a smile. Altair's wife was glaring at him now and James caught Imogen's hand to stop her as she started to edge out of her chair. She squeezed, then continued, following Altair out of the room. "These photographs are interesting," she said, indicating the frame filled hallway as he lead her away from the dining room.
"Yes, I enjoy collecting muggle objects. Their earliest photographs can be rare. At least good ones."
"Quite an expensive collection, isn't it?" she asked.
He opened a french door leading into a gallery space. "Expense is nothing," he said. "You can ask my wife, who has quite the taste for jewelry. Do you like jewelry Jean?"
"I do like earrings," she confessed and turned around, smiling at him. He was at least twice her age, though Imogen had come to realize that many of these wealthy or powerful men saw their age as an attractor. It didn't matter that his wife was just down the hall or that her husband was waiting for them. A man with good intentions would have toured his collection for both of them. But divided, Imogen knew James might have a chance to peruse that room.
Imogen could sense it. There was some powerful magic behind that door. If nothing else, it was as result of cloaking charms for whatever Altair was hiding. Currently, he was taking Imogen around the room, showing framed objects and explaining what they were and how they were used. "This one was from a dig on Inca ground," he said.
Imogen raised an eyebrow. This was closer to the evidence they were looking for. "It looks like a mouth harp," she said.
"Yes," Altair said. "Only this one is said to be charmed."
"Charmed how?" Imogen asked, tilting her head.
"When this one is played, all who listen are entranced," he said. Altair reached out, touching Imogen's shoulder gently with his fingers. She looked over at his hand. "But I try not to use those kinds of charms myself."
He reached out his other hand, turning Imogen's face towards, him. She turned, putting her hands up to his chest as he leaned in. "Jim is just down the hall," she said.
"Not to worry," Altair said quietly. "I have this room well protected. No one can hear or see what happens in here?"
"The glass doors?"
"They can't see through," he said.
"Good," Imogen said with a smile.
Altair went to lean his mouth towards her as Imogen pushed him back forcefully with her magic. He flew across this room, his face in a state of shock as he hit the opposite wall. Imogen kept her hands outstretched, her jaw set and eyes narrowed. Altair took a moment before he jumped to his feet, reaching for his wand. Imogen yanked it from him with a pull from her right hand and the wand came directly to her. She broke it in two.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Now that you mention, a new pair of earrings would be nice," she replied, then used a charm to bind him, gagging his mouth and pushing him back into the corner of the office. "My husband usually takes care of what I want though."
She turned to the door. As soon as she opened it, James was standing there, looking concerned and pale. Imogen huffed. "You alright?"
"I'm fine," she replied. "I was trying to buy you time to look into that room… did you?"
"Not yet," he admitted, then grabbed her hand to pull her back towards the dining room. Jovita lay with her head in her arms on the table. "Just a charm. Should last a while."
Imogen rubbed her palms together and James raised his wand. He looked at her, then leaned over, pressing a kiss on her lips. "Now's not the time, James," she reminded him. He never seemed to care. Any time they were about to enter somewhere he did this, no matter the circumstance. Imogen wasn't always on assignment with him, but often enough that these habits were set.
James took a breath and opened the door, pointing the wand into the darkened room. "Lumos," he whispered. The space was empty. They were walking along a corridor filled with magic.
James took the space slowly, looking for evidence of curses that might entrap them. There were yells from the other end. They made their way more quickly when a curse narrowly missed James's ear. Imogen reached out her hand, sending it flying in another direction.
They looked up and lining the room was a platform. Several people, robed and masked in black fabric, threw curses. Imogen reached upward, throwing two people back. Others replaced them as James performed counters to each spell. He moved forward, finding the steps and taking them on from their level. Imogen was turned towards one figure, who managed to dodge two of her spells. She threw them aside, stunning them when she felt something hot at her back. She turned. James had made a barrier and a flame that would have hit her was burning out along it's edge. "Thanks," she said, returning the favor by pulling the person he was dueling with over the edge of the platform. Without the warning, he was able to stun the body just behind that one, knocking them down.
With only two figures left, Imogen went for the door. She threw it open, and in the back corner was a man, woman, and three young children-two girls and a boy. The oldest had to be around ten. The man stood in front of the others, guarding them with his body.
"I'm here to help," Imogen said quickly.
He narrowed his eyes, thinking. "Help?"
"Yes, help," she said back. They were never anywhere long enough to really learn the language. She stepped into the room, reaching out a hand. "Come," she said.
The woman stood, the man grabbed the youngest girl, cradling her in his arms as they grouped closer to Imogen. She turned, leading them back towards the door her and James had come in through. She saw James up above, binding each body up there.
Imogen grasped the door handle, but it was locked. Imogen looked up towards James. He looked down and she tried to open it again. She stepped back and did a spell, trying to unlock it, but nothing worked. The woman was jabbering something in their language to the two children and when Imogen turned, the man had a wand pointed directly at her. His eyes were intent and the tip was at her collar bone.
She turned towards him putting her hands up.
"My family goes free," he said.
"Altair's a front man, isn't he?" Imogen asked. The man smiled eerily. The woman took the small girl from him, then started across the room.
"I'm surprised you thought he was smart enough," the man said. Imogen saw a silver panther edge the walls in the corner of her eye, disappearing into the blackness of the wall. James was calling for backup. They just had to keep him here.
"You're not from Brazil either," she noted by his accent.
"Peru," he said. "If I don't protect them, muggles steal the objects . They should be with the magic community, not in museums."
"And how many people are getting the magical objects instead of copies," Imogen asked. "And how many are being cursed by the objects?"
The man shrugged. "I do not keep track."
"Papa," one of the girls said.
He didn't look away, but told her something in Spanish. "My family will go, then I will go."
"I don't think so," Imogen said.
"Then you will not leave looking quite so pretty," the man said with a shrug.
Imogen pushed him away from her before he could do anything. He grunted as he hit the corner of the wall where they had come out of. The woman screamed as Imogen and the man began to duel. She blocked his spells effortlessly, and pulled his feet out from under him. He grunted as he fell, then jumped back up. Imogen raised an eyebrow at him, hand pointed towards him.
"Imogen," James yelled, running across from the bottom of the stairs.
The man changed his target, throwing a curse at the same time Imogen sent a spell to bind him. James, distracted, didn't even attempt to block the curse until it was too late. Imogen felt a sinking in her stomach as he was thrown around and fell to the ground with a groan. She moved forward and threw the man's binded body into the wall once, twice, three times. His head hit the wall until the was unconscious. The children were all crying, as was the woman.
There was a loud bang and a few members of the backup team came through forced portals of the wall. Imogen pointed towards the man while another took the family into their custody. Imogen ran over to James, who was pushing himself up, his robes torn and blood spilling from a wound that lashed up his side and down his upper arm. "What were you thinking," she snapped at him, grasping onto his shoulders and helping him sit up. She pressed her hand against his skin. A curse wound wouldn't heal so easily, but she was able to stop the bleeding at the very least. She examined the rest of him and when she was satisfied this was the only harm done to him, Imogen leaned in, a hand on each side of his face, and kissed him.
Imogen wrung out a piece of cloth soaked in the milky white potion. James pressed his hand onto the top of the table, twisting his arm so the cut that ran from the middle of his bicep and down the side of his torso could be seen easily. Imogen laid the bit of cloth across the portion by his ribs and James sucked in air, growling as it stung. She paused looking down at him. "You should have let me take care of it," she said, her voice tight.
James knew she was right. His supervisor had already chewed him out over it as well. One of the reasons he'd been hired for the international task force was because of Imogen. His superiors had made that very clear. Part of their job was to integrate themselves into the lives of those they were investigating—something that was made easier with a wife and a seemingly mundane life. Moreover, Imogen's ability to perform magic without a wand allowed her to do things no one else could.
James was the real problem. When he was on assignment on his own, he was fine. When Imogen was there, he had a hard time concentrating. His worst fears cycled through his mind every moment. And even though he knew it wasn't always the right choice, he'd stand in front of her and risk his own life before seeing even a scratch on Imogen. Today he'd ignored everything else, the only thought was to get next to her. To make sure she wasn't targeted. And yet he knew she'd had better control over the situation than he did. "I'm sorry," James said after she adjusted another strip of fabric over the cut.
"Just don't do it again," Imogen said. She turned to get another strip and James reached out, grabbing her hand, pulling her into him. She leaned down, wrapping her hands around his neck, kissing him carefully. She straddled his lap, sitting as he reached up and brushed her white blond hair back. "I… I've been meaning to tell you something. I keep waiting for a good time, but there's never a good time."
James hummed in response, kissing her collarbone, making a trail along her skin, following the neckline of her camisole.
"James… I'm pregnant," Imogen said.
James stopped, pulling back and looking at her. She smiled widely as his heart pounded and a million feelings bubbled up inside of him. "And you still went today," he said, the earlier fear mixing with anger taking over anything else.
Imogen placed a hand on each side of his face. "Please, don't go back to that," she said. "You know I wouldn't have been anywhere near there if there was any danger suspected."
"You should have left. As soon as that started—"
"Okay, so you get to be protective of me and be sliced open when I have it perfectly under control, but when curses start flying at you I'm not allowed any weakness of that sort?"
They looked at each other and James's jaw tensed as he swallowed. "You're right," he said, a smile finally taking over at the thought of a baby. Their baby. James pulled her down into another kiss. "Okay… okay, so… what's next?"
Imogen laughed as James pulled her closer to him. She turned, summoning the bowl and continuing to coat the cut on James while sitting straddled on his lap, his free hand moving up and down her thigh. "Well, let's see," Imogen said. "The baby grows, I eat strange things… I get ridiculously fat, but you insist I haven't—"
"That's not what I mean," James said. "Gen, we can't keep doing this with a baby. I'll talk to my dad. I'll bet there somewhere for me in the Auror Department."
"Not unless you're going to be happy there," Imogen said seriously.
"Of course I'll be—"
"James, you love this job," Imogen said. "Don't act like you don't."
He took in a deep breath. She'd just covered the last of the cut. He thought about this. Yes, he loved what he did. He loved being part of something important, but he could do that back home too. Besides, if today was any indication, he needed to find a position that didn't put Imogen at risk. The thought of their baby at risk as well as her… James wouldn't be able to sleep ever again.
He couldn't help but remember nearly two months ago and an assignment in Scotland. James and his team were investigating reports of dark magic, assisted by a husband and wife not much older than him. They tried to convince the wife to go spend time with her sister in France, but she refused to leave her husband. In the end, they were held and she died from excessive use of the Cruciatus Curse before they could get through the defenses. He'd evaluated a lot after the incident—Imogen's involvement on the top of that list, but also the need to appreciate what was in front of him.
"I do," he said. James moved his hands to the sides of the camisole folding up the fabric until her stomach was exposed. A prominent scar on her right side was the only thing that marred her perfect skin. He leaned down kissing her belly. He lifted his eyes up to her. "But I love you more."
Imogen beamed as they spoke over other things, other plans. They talked about when they would tell everyone else and where they could live and whether they thought they might have a boy or girl.
"When can you tell?" James asked.
"I looked it up, and it's not for a few months," she said.
He pressed a hand on her stomach and she covered his hand with her own. "I don't think I've ever been more happy," he whispered.
Imogen leaned down, catching his lips again.
Imogen had rounded out at seven months, breathing heavy as she opened a box.
"I've got that," Lily said, pulling the box from her. "It's why I'm here. You just tell me where things go."
Imogen let out a frustrated sigh. James kissed the top of her head as he passed with other boxes to take to the living room. "I think we're putting the pots in the bottom cupboard," Imogen said and Lily unloaded the box, following directions.
Lily finished the Quidditch season two weeks before and had been planning for a while to help James and Imogen move into their new home in London and stay with them until after her nephew was born. James and Imogen were kind enough to pretend that this was a great favor, though they all knew the favor was on behalf of Lily.
After six seasons as seeker for The Holyhead Harpies Lily was at a completely loss for what to do with her life. She had three months to decide whether or not she'd go on for a seventh season, but unless she wanted to Captain the team (which she did not), she would just be in the same position next year. She'd toyed with the idea of being a correspondent like her mum, but in truth she hated writing, even when it was about Quidditch. Even worse was the prospect of another two to three years of people questioning whether she was right for the job or if she received it because of who her mother was. No, that was an experience she never wished to repeat again. Then there was everything to figure out about Lorcan… something she didn't want to even begin to think about. She had enough savings to last a while, especially since Imogen and James refused to take any rent.
"Er, there's a random…" Lily pulled up a silky and slinky piece of green lingerie, raising an eyebrow.
Imogen snatched it from her. "Not that it will ever fit again," she said, pushing herself up from the ground awkwardly.
"I'm just hoping it's not an indication of whether or not I can trust the sanitation of your cooking."
"You're safe for a while," Imogen retorted. She walked back towards the master bedroom as Lily stood with a stack of plates to put in the kitchen.
They continued to unpack for the next several hours, getting through a good portion of the kitchen boxes. Imogen, despite her insistence that she was perfectly capable of doing more than Lily and James were letting her, sank into the couch saying she just needed a couple minutes. James sat so she had her legs draped onto him. He massaged her swollen feet and within ten minutes she was asleep.
"Merlin, it took long enough to get her to do that," James said, carefully standing and adjusting Imogen, covering her with a throw blanket.
"Why doesn't she use her magic to unpack?" Lily asked.
"The longer the pregnancy goes on, the more using her casting exhausts her. And… she keeps misplacing her wand. Can I make you something for lunch, Lil?"
"That's okay," Lily said. "I told Aunt Lina and Uncle George I'd come see them. I can grab something at the Leaky Cauldron."
"Alright," James said, grabbing an apple. "I have to go in for a briefing this afternoon, so it will just be you and Imogen."
"You know I probably can't keep her from overworking all on my own right?" Lily said.
"She'll be fine," James said. "Just as long as we can mostly keep her from the major work."
Lily worked through another box, sorting through the things that were more obvious before heading out and to Diagon Alley. She apparated to the main road and spent a nice long visit with her aunt and uncle. They took her out to a different restaurant for lunch and she excused herself after an hour there. "I need to make a run to Quidditch Quality Supply, and hopefully get back before Imogen over does herself," Lily said.
"Well don't be a stranger," Angelina said, hugging Lily, then giving her a kiss on the cheek. "It's nice to have you so close again."
Lily smiled and hugged her uncle, then made her way through the streets. She made it to the shop, grabbing a broom servicing kit and a practice snitch that had gotten good reviews and wanted to try for herself.
"Think you'll be selected for the World Cup again next year?" Gromel, the owner of the shop and a familiar face, asked innocently.
Lily was used to chatting up predictions and thoughts with Gromel. She just wasn't much in the mood for thinking of the future anymore. "There's some pretty great new blood," she replied diplomatically.
"I don't know," Gromel said. "England's always done well when they had you."
Lily tried to give him a smile. "Well, we'll see."
She grabbed the bag and thanked Gromel again, grabbing a bulletin calling for the creation of local community Quidditch teams. Someone about to come in opened the door for her. "Thanks," she said.
"Lily?"
She looked up and stopped in her tracks. There, grinning at her, was Lorcan Scamander. "Oh, hi," she said. Her heart pounded. She hadn't seen him in almost a year. Not since the last time she told him she didn't want to hold him back from dating other women, if he wanted.
Lily had been saying that for years. The first year after her graduation, when she was put on reserve for the Harpies, they carried on a long distant relationship. They'd done that when she was at Hogwarts her last year, so it wasn't much of a stretch. Then Lorcan was busy with all sorts of research, working part time as an assistant for the Department of Mysteries. He'd also started an informal project, researching Gypsy clans and trying to correct misconceptions Wizards had about them. It was an effort that was probably still ongoing, but Lorcan was made for such work. He was trustworthy and patient and won over almost every Gypsy clan that let him even talk with them. Last Lily knew he was working on a book, sorting through what he could and couldn't share with the Wizarding World. A lesser man would have used whatever he'd learned for how it would benefit him. Not Lorcan. It's why they all trusted him. He would never divulge their closely held secrets to the world.
Still, with Lorcan engrossed in his studies and Lily trying to prove herself on the field, they spent several years on and off. She'd all but move in with him during off seasons, but during the year Lily insisted over and over that it wasn't fair to either of them to hold out when they saw each other so little. Lorcan would visit when he could, coming to see her play, which almost always ended in a night at her flat with little talking and no sleep.
Then last year, she started on the same idea. He needed to feel free to see other people. It wasn't fair to him, when Lily had no idea when she would be done and they lived too far apart for any of this to make sense.
"It doesn't have to make sense," Lorcan told her, obviously frustrated with the conversation. "I love you and I want to be with you."
"Well, that's not enough," Lily snapped at him.
The biggest row of their relationship ensued. Lily stubbornly stuck by her point, trying to shut down every romantic gesture or suggestion of how to make it work. He talked about commuting from Wales, if that's what it took.
"After all these years you wouldn't be upset at all if I took you at your word and dated someone else?" Lorcan asked. "Because I would be devastated if you moved on."
"No, I wouldn't be," Lily told him. "I said we should be open to seeing other people and I mean it!"
Lily couldn't forget the look on his face. He bit the insides of his cheeks, turned around, and left her flat without another word. Ten months later Lorcan's engagement was announced and Lily realized she'd never been more wrong about anything in her life. They hadn't talked at all since that night.
"How are you, Lorcan?"
"Oh, I'm good," he said. Someone squeezed through the door behind Lily, shooting her an annoyed glance. "I guess we should get out of the way."
Lily stepped through and expected him to go into the shop. Instead, he let the door close and fell into step with Lily. "How have you been? Off season I'm guessing?"
"Yes," Lily said, her heart pattering at an unreasonable rate. "Yes, I'm staying with Imogen and James for a while here in London."
"That's right, I think Imogen told me about that," Lorcan said. Lorcan and Imogen had been best friends at Hogwarts and obviously still kept in touch, but Lily wasn't sure how often they actually saw each other. She hadn't thought about this aspect of moving in with them. Would she have to see Lorcan often? Would she have to exchange pleasantries with his fiance? "You did great this last season, by the way. You were quite on point."
Lily smiled. "Thanks," she said. She was tempted to tell him that she wouldn't be going back, that she was ready to settle down. But even if she had decided that for sure, it sounded terribly desperate and she couldn't bring herself to do it. "So… how are wedding plans going?" she went for instead, immediately wishing she hadn't.
"Oh, it's good," Lorcan said. "Megra is taking care of just about everything, which is better. Early on she tried to get me to weigh in on table settings, but you know me."
"No opinions on anything. Completely indecisive," Lily said, shaking her head with a small grin. She looked up at Lorcan and they both stopped, looking at each other for a moment.
"Not all the time," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Just on napkin rings."
Lily bit her bottom lip, looking down and taking a breath. "Well, I um… better get going." She looked up at him. His gaze hadn't waivered. They started dating the summer before Lily's fifth year and for years after he'd been shy and uncertain. Lorcan was still quiet, but entirely unabashed. "I left Imogen sleeping, but she'll probably be up by now and tearing through boxes as fast as she can."
"It was… nice to see you Lil," he said. He leaned in, reaching out a hand to touch her arm and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek, turning and walking away.
Despite Lily feeling that she needed to get going, she watched him walk away from her, heart sinking into her stomach.
James tapped his mug with his wand, filling it with coffee, cream, and sugar.
"I thought you had the next two days off to move," Harry said, leaning on the edge of James's desk.
"I needed to be here for that briefing," James said. "But don't worry, we'll be out of your ever-greying hair soon enough."
"Don't be a smartass," Harry said, folding his arms with a smile. "Your mum wants to bring dinner tomorrow night, by the way."
James and Imogen had been living at Harry and Ginny's while they searched for a house. Two of their previous options had fallen through, which is why they were in the middle of a move while Imogen was this far along. Ideally, they would have been settled before her second trimester. Not that Ginny was upset. She seemed pleased to have them there and spent most of her time these days taking care of anything Imogen needed. She'd practically furnished the nursery before they'd even found a place.
"That sounds good, Dad," James said, shuffling through a bunch of papers and owls on his desk. There was a notice on the letterhead for the International Federation of Wizards.
"I'm going to talk with Albus about some work, but I wanted your thoughts on a case before you leave."
"Right," James said. "I'll be there soon."
Harry walked away and James read through the letter.
Attn: All Current and Former Members of the International Auror Division
It has come to our attention that Baldo Pérez and Roma Kozlov have been reported missing. Any information on their whereabouts or contact should be reported immediately.
It was so short that James turned the page, certain he'd find more. James hadn't seen either of those men since Scotland. They'd both been part of that team. Both reliable. And both had been sent elsewhere after. He hadn't seen them for the better part of the year and he hoped that they were perhaps just going underground for whatever their assignments were. It wasn't unheard of. There was once that, to really be convincing enough to be part of the inner circle of a weapon producer, James had to distance himself completely from his superiors and Imogen had been kept safely at their flat under a dozen protection charms. She'd hated it, but there wasn't much option. James couldn't remember if they'd placed such a notice out for him, though.
James folded the paper and put it to the side, focusing on the workload in front of him.
"You sure you don't want to just have the baby at home?" James asked in a whisper. They were following the St. Mungo's maternity ward employee on their tour. "Remember, I'm a chaser, so I'm totally ready to make the catch."
Imogen suppressed a smile, elbowing him in the ribs.
"Come on," James laughed quietly. "I've heard it's very chic right now. All those after birth stains on your carpet."
"Shut it," Imogen said, also chuckling. She cleared her throat and sobered as the employee—a stuffy old woman with too much lipstick—turned back around.
"We take both mother and child's needs into consideration in our after care."
"What about the dad?" James asked. "Seems a bit sexist, if you ask me."
Imogen elbowed him again.
"Dad's care too, if it's needed," the woman said. "We have our teams trained to perform reviving charms promptly so Dad misses as little of the wonder of birth as possible. Now down this way is the nursery."
They started to move again and James grabbed Imogen's hand. "Damn, I was hoping to take a sleeping potion and wake up when it was all done."
"Not a chance," Imogen said. "If I'm correct with my date figuring, this is eighty-five percent your fault."
"Seventy-two. Sixty-five if you count the fact that you are the sexiest woman alive," he countered and she snorted a laugh.
They finished the tour, the woman looking disgrunted by the end, not spending much time encouraging any questions.
James and Imogen made their way out of St. Mungo's and to the street. "I can't believe Rose said that was necessary."
"It was informational," Imogen said, thumbing through the brochure they had given her. "I think I know what to pack for the overnight bag now."
"More importantly than overnight bags, what's been going on with Lily?" James asked.
"What do you mean?" Imogen asked.
"Come on, you haven't noticed?" James asked. Lily had been thoroughly excited to move in with them and help with the nursery. That first day of unpacking she had been bouncy and herself. Then she came back late that afternoon and she'd been sulky for the last two days. She had been around for the most part, which made asking Imogen tricky. "What's got her down?"
Imogen took a deep breath. "She ran into Lorcan."
"Oh," James said. "Oh, well… that makes sense then."
"Didn't you say you wanted to set her up with that co-worker?" Imogen asked.
"Yeah, but he had some apprehension about dating the boss's daughter. Go figure." James thought about this. Lily was going to be very helpful to them and he didn't want to see her torturing herself over something she couldn't go back on. He'd had a small taste of that once, and he hated to think of Lily's situation. "I'll prod him again."
A little over a week after moving in and the house was much closer to being set up. Imogen had been asking James to hang the pictures and there were lots of empty boxes in every room of the house. As his dad said, his mum brought dinner their third night there. And by bringing dinner she had meant she intended to fill their cupboards and refrigerator. "I didn't think Imogen would be up for any big grocery trips," she said. Ginny and Harry's hands were full with shopping bags.
"Thank you," Imogen said, trying to take some.
"No, you go sit," Ginny said, pulling away from her attempt.
When she'd finished, she'd cooked enough food that they would be set for at least the next week. Imogen looked quite relieved.
"Imogen?" he said, opening the front door. Most of the lights in the house were out. "Gen?" he called again.
There was something strange, but he couldn't pin it. James turned on the lights. Some of the empty boxes they had piled up had spilled over, spread out across the living room. He flicked his wrist and they stacked themselves up again. "Lily? Gen?"
James walked through the living room and when he saw the kitchen, panic set in. There was a paring knife in the middle of the floor. An empty pie crust sat on one counter, and a bowl of peeled green apples were tinted brown. There were more whole apples floating in water in the sink and a half peeled apple smashed on the floor. "Imogen!" he shouted, dashing to their bedroom.
Clothes were scattered everywhere. The cabinets were empty, their toiletries all over the counter and floor. He backed out, running up the steps to the empty nursery. No one was there. The mobile above the crib swayed back and forth. "Lily!"
James tried her room next. The curtains were torn down, the bed looked as if someone had made it, then skid across its surface. James gripped hard to the handle of the doorway, falling to his knees and letting out a strangled cry.
They were gone.