Burrowed

They had been at The Burrow for six days. Grandma Weasley generally had activities planned all morning and the afternoons were spent at the swimming hole or playing Quidditch at the clearing a half mile from the house. Lorcan and Lysander often came for the afternoons, and Luna and Rolf followed along for dinners. Even now, Imogen sat beside Lorcan, watching the game in progress from the ground. James, Lily, Louis, and Rose were playing against Dominique, Lysander, Hugo, and Albus.

James landed between plays. "Come on Imogen, you should take a turn," he said.

"That's all right. I like watching you play."

"Come on, James, you're holding us up," Lily shouted at him. Lorcan leaned in and whispered something to Imogen as James pushed back off, joining the game again.

He still found himself distracted over and over as he looked down. Their hands were so close. James knew it was stupid. They were friends. Of course Imogen had friends in Ravenclaw that he didn't spend time with. He liked the Scamander twins just fine, for the most part, but Imogen spent so much time with Lorcan. Especially this past year, when the two had even started the train ride working together as prefects. And next year he wouldn't even be around. Would Imogen spend all her time with Lorcan then? Maybe Lily would still drag Imogen over to the Gryffindor table once in a while.

Imogen cheered as James shot a quaffle through the single makeshift hoop at one end of the pitch. He grinned down at her, winking. Lysander made a mad dash for the quaffle, crashing into the thin, bamboo-like pole that held up the basket ring, snapping it in two.

"Do you have your wand?" Albus asked James.

"I left it in the tent. You?"

"Why do you think I was asking?" Albus pointed out. "Anyone else bring a wand?"

Louis scoffed. "You're the ones who are allowed to do magic whenever."

"Well I guess that's over," Albus said as everyone landed. "Guess we can fix it tomorrow."

"No, wait," Lysander said. "Imogen, can you come fix this?"

"We can't do magic outside of school," Rose said, scandalized by his suggestion.

Imogen and Lorcan walked over to the crowd. "But she can," Lysander said.

"I can what?"

"Do magic without the trace." Imogen looked confused and Lysander rolled his eyes like she should already know this. "They only put the trace on babies because it's got a timestamp to it. But you weren't born here. By the time they could have put it on you, it would've been in place until you were like… in your thirties sometime. They might have done some kind of lesser trace with your wand, but that won't matter for you. We learned about it in Charms, don't you remember?"

"What if we got in trouble, though," Rose asked.

"It's just a pole," Lily said. "It's not like fixing it will collapse a bridge or something."

Imogen seemed to agree, because she pointed her hands towards the hoop, raising the broken portion . "Reparo," she said, and the pole came back together again.

"Thanks," James said, kissing her cheek.

It was another quarter hour before Lily found the snitch. It wasn't really a snitch, of course. It was some large nut that Grandpa Weasley hid in the branches of a treetop on his way to an emergency call for work. They had disintegrated into simply tossing the Quaffle about—teams forgotten—when a rabbit patronus bounced in their midst. "Time to wash up for dinner," it instructed, then disappeared.

"I guess Mum's here," Lysander said.

"Imogen, why don't you ride back with me," James suggested, diving down next to her.

"Okay," Imogen said. "Lily, could Lorcan share your broom?"

"Yeah! Let's get going," Lily said, landing beside Lorcan. James couldn't help but notice Lorcan scowl at him and Imogen as she climbed behind James, wrapping her arms around him.

Everyone else took a straight shot to The Burrow, but James took his time, looping back around so they were riding over the lake, the sun glinting on its surface. "Where are we going?" Imogen asked.

"I just wanted to take the scenic route," he said, dipping low so they did a lap across the water with their feet skimming the surface. Imogen squealed behind him and he pulled up. They went high above the trees and looked down on the village.

"The muggles are going to see us," Imogen said, worry setting into her tone.

"No they won't," he said. "We're still on the wizard side of the border with the barrier that hides magic. As long as we don't cross that we're fine."

Imogen relaxed into him, dropping her arms lower around his waist and letting out a sigh as she leaned her face against his back. "It's beautiful out here."

James moved an arm to rest on her thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth. "It's more beautiful with you." He waited in the silence that followed, the question bubbling like an unwanted boil on the surface of his tongue. "What were you and Lorcan talking about?"

Imogen didn't answer for a moment. She didn't move either. "A few things. I was tell him about this... dream I keep having… and we talked about what subjects we hope to take for N.E.W.T.s," she said. "He thinks he might want to do something in the Department of Mysteries."

"Only weirdos become Unspeakables," James said.

Imogen sat back, pulling away from him. "That was rude," she said.

"Well am I wrong if he's telling you Gutteral Marmadukes exist?"

"Glittering Myrmidons. And he just said his mum said they were in the woods, he doesn't believe it. Besides, I don't think your mum would like it if she knew you were calling Luna a weirdo either."

"Fine, I'm sorry," James said. "I didn't mean it." He twisted on the broom. Imogen still looked upset. "I'm sorry," he said again. He leaned back and kissed her. She let out an exasperated breath.

"It's all right," she said. "We should probably get back for dinner."

There was a terse silence as they flew back. Right at the end, he made a dive and Imogen tightened her grip, burying her face into his back and laughed. They tumbled with the rough landing behind the tents, both of them sprawled out on the grass. James crawled over to Imogen, who was still laughing, rubbing a spot on the side of her head. She stopped, looking at James. He smiled down at her and placed a hand on either side of Imogen's body. He lifted a hand, picking some grass from her hair, then leaned in and kissed her.

"There you two are," Lily said, having come around the tents. "Could you stop snogging for long enough to eat? They're making us wait for you and the rest of us are starving."

James help Imogen up and they headed over. When they found their seats, Lorcan sat on Imogen's other side and everyone began in earnest. Grandpa Weasley arrived home as everyone else was finishing. "Just a trick hat that wouldn't come off a muggle's head," he said. George laughed. "It's not funny. His wife was all in a dither. One good thing, though, was I ran into Boxley from the Education department and he snuck me this." Grandpa Weasley pulled an envelope from the insides of his robes, handing it across to James. It had James Sirius Potter written across the front.

"What is it?" James asked.

"N.E.W.T. results," he said.

James felt his heart pounding. The parchment between his fingers suddenly felt hot.

"But I thought those aren't distributed until the middle of July," Aunt Hermione said. "That's at least another two weeks away."

"They have them graded in advance," Grandpa Weasley replied as Grandma Weasley brought him a very full plate of food. "Boxley owed me one, so I had him check for James's score to see if it was ready. I asked about O.W.L.s too, but those they wait on."

Everyone was looking at him now. "Well open it," Ginny said. "We want to see."

James looked at Imogen who smiled at him and he took a deep breath. His hand shook as he tore the envelope open and pulled out the paper inside reading it:

Charms E
Transfigurations E
Potions O
Herbology A
Defense O

His heart sank into his stomach as his mum grabbed the paper, looking before she passed it around. "You did very well on most of those, James," she said.

"But I can't get into the academy with an A," he said. His plans fell apart in that one letter.

"You can retake it next year," Uncle Bill said. "Study on your own and schedule it with the department."

"In the meantime, I think we have an opening for an intern in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Aunt Hermione added. "It doesn't pay much, but it could add to your CV that way."

"I've always got a job for you at the shop too, mate," Uncle George offered.

James was looking across the table at his dad, though. He was now holding the paper, looking through the grades with a furrowed brow, adjusting his glasses. "It's certainly not over," Harry said. Compared to everyone else, these words started to make him feel better. "But I don't understand how you would get this grade in Herbology." His dad looked up at him and James felt sick again. "If you were having trouble, why didn't you talk to Neville?"

Heat flooded his face. Several of his aunts and uncles pretended they hadn't heard this as they cleaned up dinner, instructing their kids to different places. Grandma and Grandpa Weasley sat at the end of the table, watching silently.

"Well I think it's time to go," Rolf Scamander said.

"Yes, I'm sure James doesn't want us hearing this," Luna added, turning to Ginny to say goodbye as the twins both took the cue from their parents.

"Well… I didn't think I was having trouble," James said. "The written part was wicked hard."

"You don't need to make excuses for yourself, James. You have a tendency to get distracted by less important things and if you're going to retake the test, you have to buckle down and—"

"What do you know?!" James shouted, pushing back and standing. "You never had to get into the academy! You never even had to take the N.E.W.T.s!"

"James," Imogen said nervously.

"Do not yell at me," Harry said firmly. "Don't think I wouldn't have rather dealt with exams and the academy. And don't assume we didn't have our own learning curve, just because I became an auror under different circumstances. There's a reason for the standards. You need to know these things."

James stepped back, practically throwing his chair into the table. Imogen reached out and grasped his hand, but he jerked it away and walked back towards the grassy field, away from all the eyes looking at him.

Imogen watched as James stomped away from her.

"Did you really have to do that?" Ginny asked.

"What am I supposed to do? Make a call and get him out of it? How is that good for him?"

"I'm not saying bail him out, but you didn't need to reprimand when it's obvious he's already gutted over it."

They continued to argue as Imogen got up and walked to the gate where Lorcan was waiting to say goodbye. "I can't believe you did that, by the way," Lorcan said. "I was mortified!"

It took Imogen a moment before she realized he meant getting Lily to share her broom with him. Still his version of upset was mild to what was happening at the table behind her. "You had to get back somehow," Imogen said. "Unless you would have rather walked."

"Any of them could have taken me back." He was turning red just talking about it.

"All right, I'm sorry for giving you five minutes alone with Lily," she said with a smirk. "Did you at least talk to her?"

"What do you think?"

Imogen shook her head at him. "Well, maybe next time. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure." He turned and ran to catch up with his family, who were already at the top of the hill.

Imogen walked around the house the other way. Ginny was still talking to Harry and she didn't want to know if they were arguing or what they were saying about James. She checked the boys' tent, but James wasn't in there. She came out, scanning the edges of the field. At the far end, James sat on a stack of firewood, throwing something out into the grass. She walked in his direction. Cricket chirps grew as the sky turned an inky blue. When she was closer, Imogen noticed James grab tufts of grass, tearing them apart and throwing them to the wind one shredded piece at a time.

Rather than talk, she sat beside him on the stack of wood and leaned on her knees.

"I can't believe him," James finally said. "Just because we can't all be like him. Life would be easier if I didn't want to be an auror. Doesn't Dad realize how hard it is without him on my case too?"

Imogen hadn't known who Harry Potter was. At the compound, there was a sort of school where they learned to read and write, but even children were used for their magic by the time they were about six without learning much else. Certainly they didn't learn their own history. When she got to Hogwarts it would have been impossible not to learn who Harry was and what he'd done, though. Particularly when people in her house learned that she was living with the Potters. She wondered if Hogwarts was where James learned about all of that as well.

"Everyone expects me to just be able to do shit. That I should be some amazing wizard just 'cause he's my dad," James continued. "I worked really hard."

He stopped, swallowing. Imogen could tell he was trying not to cry. She reached over to grab his hand. "I know you did."

"What if I don't pass next time? What if I get the same grade?" James asked.

"You have a whole year and only one exam, this time," Imogen said. "I bet you didn't miss by much either."

James pulled her into him, wiping his free hand of the grass remnants. "Maybe I'll take Uncle George up on his offer. Then I can live above the shop and get out of my parents' house. I can save up for a flat."

James continued talking through changes in his plans, the possibilities, and the way each would work. Imogen's mind wandered elsewhere, leaning against his chest.

Almost every night that week she'd had dreams with her mother in them. This morning, the light had appeared again. And the song. She kept hearing the lyrics, trying to remember how she knew it. Had her mother sung it to her? She didn't remember her mother singing. Or did she, and the Imperius Curse had blocked out her memories of that until now.

"Imogen?" James was nudging her side. "Did you hear me?"

"Sorry," she said, pulling back. He looked upset. "I was just thinking…"

"Thinking about Lorcan?"

"What? No."

"Right, sorry to bore you," James said, standing.

Imogen felt disoriented. "Stop!" He did, turning back to her. "James, what is this about? Why are you so irritated by Lorcan today?"

"Sorry, I don't take to some other bloke flirting with my girlfriend right in front of me."

"Excuse me?" Imogen couldn't help but laugh a little. "He doesn't flirt with me. Come on, he fancies Lily." She shouldn't have said that. Lorcan would kill her. But it didn't seem to matter as James scoffed at this revelation.

"Don't give me that," James said. "We were all raised together. They're practically like cousins."

"We live like siblings, but you and I are going out."

"That's different. You're not really part of the family."

Like an arrow to her heart, Imogen felt the sting of the words. Not really part of the family. No, her family was dead. Her parents. Dead. And this… this wasn't really her family. Not to James, at least.

"Every chance he gets he sits nexts to you. Whispers to you. And you're so distracted you don't even hear when I talk about getting engaged."

The way he spat the words at her built on the hurt from his statement before. She was near tears now, confused why James was taking this out on her. "Well if you're going to act like this, I wouldn't want to be engaged to you anyway." She stood and walked along the side of the property.

"Fine! Why don't you go talk to Lorcan about it!" he shouted at her retreating form.

"Maybe I will!" she retorted. Suddenly she found that was exactly what she wanted to do.

Where they had landed behind The Burrow before dinner, Imogen found James's abandoned broomstick. She never had been great at flying, but she managed as she flew to the Scamander's house over the hill and down the road. Lorcan once pointed out that they lived right next to Luna's father, who had a rickety, spiraling sort of house. It made the Scamander's house easy to find. It was more typical, though the only thing she remembered was that his room was on the back side. There were two windows. Fifty-fifty shot. She could only hope if she got the wrong one that it was Lysander's room, and not their parents'.

Hovering in front of the window on the right, Imogen knocked softly on the glass. She was relieved when Lorcan came to the window, already in a plain, loose shirt and pajama pants, holding a book in his hand. "Imogen?"

"Can we talk?" she asked, her voice thick from crying already.

"Yeah," he said. "We can go in the barn. Get closer, here." Imogen did and he climbed onto the broom behind her. "Actually I should have turned off the light."

Imogen didn't hesitate, but used her hand to reach out with magic and extinguish the lights in his room. They flew into the barn on the back of the property. It had never been used for animals. Not since Lorcan's grandfather had once owned it. Luna was convinced Nargles lived in there, though, so they kept it filled with fresh hay. Lorcan's dad had altered the roof so that on clear nights it could be opened up and they could watch the night sky. Imogen opened it, not in the mood to feel guilty over breaking rules by doing magic right now.

"Now tell me what happened," Lorcan said, sitting on a pile of hay.

Imogen sat next to him and sobbed through the whole explanation. Lorcan just listened and nodded, looking to the sky every now and again as the speckle of stars thickened. "And then he started going on about you flirting with me."

"What?"

"That's what I said!" She stopped herself from mentioning her lapse of judgement and subsequent betrayal concerning telling James about Lorcan's actual crush. "He's delusional!"

"No," Lorcan said. "Well, I mean yes. But I think he was just worked up, right?"

"Yes, but then it became all about how I was distracted when he brought up engagement and… he didn't even let me explain what I was thinking about!"

Lorcan threw an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. "Just let him cool down."

Imogen nodded, crying into Lorcan's shirt. When she was finally calm, taking her last shuddering breaths, Lorcan and her adjusted themselves on the loft floor. He laid out, folding his arms so his hands sat under his head. Imogen used his chest as a pillow, her body perpendicular to his as he pointed out different constellations and she talked about everything she wondered with her mother. With her parents. The questions she would never actually have answers to.

"Do you think they loved me?" Imogen asked after a long pause.

"Of course they loved you," Lorcan said, as though that was obvious.

Imogen flipped onto her stomach, still resting her hands on Lorcan as she looked at him. "But there were others. There were people who snapped out of it, who had been married for ages, but didn't care about each other. We had a couple in our group. I mean, they didn't want them to die and they maybe even liked them okay… but they were only married because the curse made them. What if it's like that? What if they only loved me when they were under the curse?"

Lorcan considered all of this. "Well, maybe your parents weren't in love with each other like that," he admitted. "That's possible. But a parent's love isn't that way, is it? They love you because you're their's." She thought about this in the lull. "Imperius curse is dark magic, though. Wouldn't Harry know the answer to that?"

She flipped onto her back again, looking at the sky. Asking about her parents to those that had taken her in seemed like an ungrateful gesture, like everything they'd done for her wasn't appreciated. Still, the questions plagued her. Imogen liked Lorcan's answer, though. She liked to think that she had belonged to her parents. She liked to think it was so obvious they loved her. She found herself humming the song she'd heard so much over the past week as Lorcan pointed to one constellation after another and they drifted to sleep.

That night, Imogen dreamed a memory. It was something like watching the moment replay in her mind very exactly. Her mother ushered her forward. Her father grabbed her other hand and they ran. She was eleven and terrified, running in thin soled shoes along the hot desert sand. "Zey don' know yet," her father said, though there was uncertainty mixed with his Slavic accent. Imogen didn't remember him having an accent.

The compound was far behind them. Imogen knew what was coming, but she couldn't look away. "No, stop!" she shouted at him just as her father hit the barrier—a domed curse that covered the compound.

Her mother pulled her younger self back. Imogen was forced to let go of his hand. "Papa!" she yelled, crying. Her mother pushed her backwards and moved forward, pulling on his hand. As soon as she touched the barrier, her mother was caught as well. "Mum! Papa!" her younger self screamed over and over. They were being pulled upward. A green layer of light developed a foot from them, then pressed inward and they dropped, their lifeless bodies denting the soft sand.

Imogen watched herself fall on her father's chest, sobbing, then turned and kissed her mother's forehead, carefully fixing her hair so it picturesquely fanned out. After several minutes she stood, closed her eyes and stepped forward, expecting the same entrapment as her parents. But it didn't come. Instead, she was rimmed in green, and then she was on the other side. Unscathed and alone. She was walking away in the dream when the memory changed. Imogen saw her mother stand back up. "Come back for me," her mother said gently. "Come back, my Imogen."

There was a pounding that she couldn't place. It wasn't the sound the feet on the sand and it wasn't the soft pleading from her mother. She looked around, expecting the scene to change and another memory to replace this one.

"What is going on?!"

Imogen was startled awake. Somehow in the course of the night, her and Lorcan had both tossed and turned, shifted and moved until they got here. Lorcan spooned her on top of a soft mattress of hay, his arm across her shoulder, dangling there awkwardly. Now he scrambled backwards, wiping hard at his eyes as Imogen's pounding head made it difficult to digest what was in front of her.

The steps up to the loft were packed with other people, but Ginny was the first one to come in to focus. She stood over the two of them, looking furious. "I-it's nothing," Imogen said, sitting up. When she looked over, James stood on the top step, a look of complete disgust transforming his normally handsome features. Behind him stood Rolf and Luna.

"Nothing?" Ginny yelled. "This is nothing?!"

"Lorcan, go inside now," Rolf said. "Ginny, I'm sorry about this."

"It's not your fault, Rolf," she said, then turned back to Imogen. "You. Burrow. Now!"

Imogen stood, grabbing James's broom. Lorcan gave her an apologetic glance then went down first, the others creating a gauntlet at the bottom as they walked out of the barn, Ginny following right behind Imogen. Lorcan went into the house with his parents as Imogen walked towards the road, flanked by Ginny and James. "So worried! No idea where you were!" Such phrases, coming in spurts, were the only thing to break the horrible silence on the walk back.

When they got back to The Burrow, several people surrounded them. Lily flung herself at Imogen. "Thank Merlin!" she said and Fleur rushed forward, wiping dirt from Imogen's face. They were the only two that seemed happy to see her. There were others that looked relieved, but Harry simply looked to Ginny for an explanation.

"Get packed," she said. "We'll deal with this at home."

Imogen rushed back to the tent, not bothering to change clothes even though she still wore the same thing as yesterday. Still, she took her time in putting everything into her bag. When she had finished, Lily, Albus, and Ginny were waiting at the kitchen door for her. James and Harry were missing, though. Imogen realized they both must have apparated already.

"I'm sorry to leave like this," Ginny said to Grandma Weasley.

"It's okay, dear," she said. "It was so good to see all of you," she added, turning to hug Lily and Albus tightly.

Imogen tried to look invisible, but was caught in a hug as well, then they were at the fireplace, Ginny directing each of them went through the grate. When Imogen fell into the house, she saw James pacing the living room, Harry talking to him. "...keep a level head." Harry stopped. James turned towards her, then walked away, going down the hall into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Imogen hurried into her own room and dropped the broom and bag. She took calming breaths as she stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her hair which was flaked with pieces of hay. Imogen didn't feel like drawing attention to herself by going to the bathroom to clean up. She'd used enough magic last night and it didn't much matter if she did it now. She could hear bits and pieces of Harry and Ginny's conversations when they stopped whispering.

"...not like her, Ginny. There must be a reason."

Imogen cleaned her face.

"...after you with James last night you're telling me I'm being unreasonable?"

"I'm just saying you might be taking James's feelings too much into account."

She changed her clothes.

"So if you found Lily sleeping entangled with some boy in the loft of a barn, you wouldn't react this way?"

It was half an hour before there was a knock at her door. Harry opened it a little. "Can you come out here, please Imogen."

Not saying anything, she got off the bed and walked into the living room. Ginny sat tight jawed and arms folded across her chest on the couch. Imogen took a seat in one of the arm chairs opposite as Harry took a spot next to Ginny. "Imogen, do you understand why we were upset about this morning?"

She nodded.

"Answer him," Ginny demanded. Harry reached over, placing a hand over Ginny's, though he didn't look away from Imogen.

"I shouldn't have gone off without telling anyone last night," she said.

"Can you tell us why you did?" he asked.

The fight with James brought tears to her eyes. You're not really part of the family rung in her ears. "I was upset a-and I just wanted to talk with Lorcan."

"And you couldn't have spoken with one of us?"

No, she thought. Not about James. It hadn't been an issue before. Any little spats they'd had were at Hogwarts and were generally resolved quickly. Even then it was more than that. These dreams—or memories or whatever they were—weren't something she felt she could tell them about. Lorcan was the only one that knew, though even he didn't know about the light or that she wondered if they were more than just dreams. "I just wanted to talk to Lorcan about it."

"And you didn't think to tell anyone you were leaving?" Ginny asked. Her tone was less controlled than Harry's.

"I was going to be back before anyone knew I was missing! We just fell asleep, I swear! Nothing happened."

"Whether anything happened is beside the point," Ginny said. "You snuck out in the middle of the night and had the entire house searching for you all morning! Do you know how worried we were? Do you know what we thought may have happened to you?" She kept going as Imogen's head pulsed with pain. Ginny kept on with all the worries and concerns that had flashed through her mind when no one knew where Imogen was. Her lecture grew louder and louder until, by the end, she was shouting. "And that's not to mention what it did to Lily! She was running through the woods calling your name! Absolute panic!"

"I'm sorry, all right?" Imogen found herself shouting back. "I didn't mean for that to happen! Can we just drop it already?"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," Harry said.

"She's not my mother!"

Imogen saw the fury melt into hurt as she stood, ran into her room, and threw herself onto her bed, sobbing into her pillows. No one came to get her again and Imogen fell asleep.

Several hours later there was a knock on the door and Imogen pushed herself up, looking out the window. It was dark out and Ginny walked in carrying a tray with a plate of food and large glass of water. "You need to eat dinner," she said. She was quiet and gentle again—how she normally was with Imogen.

Imogen sat up against her headboard and Ginny sat facing her on the edge of the bed, placing the tray on her lap. Imogen drank the water down first. It was gone in a few gulps. Ginny pulled out her wand to refill it. "I know I'm not your mother," she finally said. Imogen couldn't bring herself to look at Ginny. "And I'm sorry for yelling. But you can't just run off like that."

"I'm sorry," Imogen said. Tears had coming so frequently in the last twenty-four hours that they spring to her eyes again. Ginny turned, sitting right beside Imogen, putting an arm around her.

"We were probably all just very tired as well," Ginny added with a deep breath. Imogen leaned against her shoulder. "Mind you, you're still grounded for a week."

Imogen nodded. She'd expected as much.

"And I want you to feel like you can talk to me about anything," Ginny continued, running her fingers through Imogen's hair.

Imogen thought about her mother, and the dreams, and the ball of light, but she couldn't tell Ginny. Especially not after what she'd said today. So she just nodded. Ginny leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head. "You are one of ours, Imogen."

Ginny got up then, leaving Imogen to eat on her own.