The Inn
When Imogen woke several hours later Taylor set up a bath for her and she cleaned off the rest of the dirt and dried blood from the morning. She put on a light sundress and threw away the clothes she was wearing when she arrived.
"I'm making some pasta for dinner, if that's okay," Taylor asked.
"That's great, thanks," Imogen said. After arriving unexpected in the state she did, Taylor was still making sure she was okay with the dinner choice. It made Imogen feel guilty to be still thinking through what lie to tell her.
"And Xander should be coming to join us. He'll want to look at your hand," she said. "Your potion is on the table for you."
Imogen dropped her satchel by the kitchen door and walked in, asking what she could help with. Taylor was insistent that she just sit. Imogen found herself playing with her locket between her fingers as she decided what was next. She could only see two options. The first was to stay on the run as long as possible. The other… she wasn't sure how to accomplish. She wished she would have thought of it before using the call to come here. It was too late now, though. She'd get a full meal, then start her search.
"So," Taylor said, bringing over a pot of freshly cooked pasta. "You gonna to tell me what's going on?"
Imogen shifted in her seat. "I… I found where my papa was from," Imogen said. "There's something he never got to finish and I'm trying to."
Taylor stopped, raising an eyebrow. "And why don't you want Ginny to know?" This was the question Imogen hadn't figured out how to convincingly answer. She looked down at her hands, biting her bottom lip. "They sent messages to Charlie and me as soon as you went missing. I'll admit, I never thought you'd come here."
Imogen swallowed. "You were closest when… it happened," Imogen replied. "And I can't tell them about it. Not now. They wouldn't let me continue." At least a little truth in that.
"Is it dangerous?"
"No," Imogen said a little too quickly. "No, of course not. I just… I feel bad. But I'll go back once this is finished," she added for good measure.
Taylor examined her closely, reading her. Imogen tried to look casual. "How long do you think that will be?"
"Not long," Imogen said. "Just a few more days. Then I'll go back and explain everything."
"What if I came with you?" Taylor asked. She sat in a chair, leaning on her elbows across from Imogen.
"It's… protected by a spell. Only I can go through to finish," Imogen said. "It will be fine."
Taylor's gaze was still trained on Imogen when the front door opened. Xander came through with a bouquet of wildflowers. "How's my patient doing?" he asked, replacing barely wilting flowers in a vase in the middle of the table.
"Good," Imogen said. She looked out the window. It was still bright out, but she wasn't sure how long she could stay. Sabina and the others would be able to leave at sunset. Imogen didn't know how long it would take them to track her down, but she needed to be well away from Taylor or anyone else they could harm.
The three of them ate an early dinner with only a few comments. Taylor told Xander more about Imogen in Australia. "She was easily everyone's favorite," Taylor said. Imogen blushed, spinning the pasta on her fork. "She was pretty much the opposite of me."
"Opposite how?" Xander asked.
"She saw the best in everyone and was sweet and quiet. Not me," Taylor said. "I was pretty surly. Total pain in the ass."
Xander laughed. "Yeah, you're completely different now." Taylor tried to scowl at him, but a smile underscored the look.
"You weren't that bad at all," Imogen countered, then turned to Xander. "Taylor could take care of anything that was needed."
"See? Sees the best in everyone. I'll have Ginny tell you how I really was when you meet her someday," Taylor added.
Other than the little mentions of the Potters here and there, Imogen enjoyed dinner. She almost forgot she wasn't safe.
"I have to get going," Imogen said as dinner wound down. The other two froze.
"Now? Why don't you stay the night?" Taylor asked.
"No, it's important that I start as soon as I can," Imogen said, trying to smile to ease the tension.
"Let me at least check the bandage. And if you're on foot, you really should have better shoes."
Imogen nodded. Xander looked at her hand, making her drink another potion for pain and adding more of the paste to the cut. The skin was pulling apart again. Taylor went to her room, pulling out an old pair of ankle boots and adjusting them to fit Imogen's feet better.
"Thanks, again," Imogen said to Xander as Taylor walked her to the porch. "And thank you, Taylor. For your help… and … for not…"
"Sure," Taylor said. She reached out, grabbing Imogen's good hand and placing a stone in it. "I want you to keep this with you. Just in case. If it hits the ground, it will create a space where I can apparate and come help you. You know, if you have a run in with another creature."
Imogen nodded, putting the stone in the outside pocket of the satchel. "Thanks, that helps," Imogen said, though she was certain she wouldn't use it.
"Imogen… be safe." Taylor gave her a tight hug and Imogen hugged her back, knowing this was a final goodbye.
James waited behind a large shed on the corner of the street. It was late in the afternoon and Imogen was on the porch, talking with Taylor, who handed something to Imogen that she put in her bag. Her left hand was bandaged, but otherwise she looked well, wearing a dress and dusty boots. James waited to see if she'd change her appearance, but Imogen didn't seem concerned with that anymore. Imogen left Taylor behind and walked down the street, picking up speed.
James followed as the paved roads turned into dirt paths and they were soon in some kind of quarry, with large white rocks separated and chipped apart. He started at a run, took a corner and was nearly to Imogen when she stopped, eyes widening in recognition, then turned to run the opposite direction. "Come back!" James shouted at her. "Stupify!" he threw the spell at her retreating form.
She turned just enough to raise her right hand towards him, blocking his spell wordlessly. James took a right turn, wishing he had brought his broom. He climbed rock steps that had been carved up to a long wall, three feet high. He ran the length and jumped, landing in front of Imogen, heading her off. She slid as she changed directions, wincing as she used her bandaged hand to catch herself. James watched her go this time. He calculated his next move, turning on the spot. As soon as he apparated Imogen crashed into him, knocking him down. James grabbed her arms so she fell with him. He grunted as his head hit loose gravel.
Before Imogen could reorient herself, he flipped her over pinning down her arms, moving so he had a knee on either side of her. "Get off me!" she shouted, moving under him and trying to wriggle out. A flash came from a spell shot from her good hand and James dodged right to avoid it.
"Nice to see you, too, sweetheart," James said with a smile.
Imogen spat up into his face, her saliva hitting his cheek. James continued smiling and wiped his face against the shoulder of his shirt. Imogen could be as mad as she wanted, he'd finally caught up with her and nothing could upset him after that. "I mean it, James! Let...me… go!"
"No," he said firmly. With Imogen still trying to get loose, James easily pulled her wrists together, holding both in his left hand as he grabbed his wand where it had fallen. James made a figure eight motion with the tip, surrounding his left hand and Imogen's right, feeling a bracelet type pressure around his wrist. He let her go, sitting back.
"I taught you that spell!" she yelled at him, grabbing at the invisible tie on her wrist while scrambling up. As long as it was active, she was tethered to him, unable to use magic. It would disappear as soon as James wanted it to, and not a moment before.
"Yeah, I appreciate the irony of that. Don't you?" James said with a smirk.
Imogen turned to him, using her free hand to hit him on the shoulder. "You. Can't. Keep. Me. Tied. Up!" Tears developed in her eyes as he caught her hand on the last blow.
"Yes I can, actually," James said. "You're going to side along apparate home with me."
"No, I won't," Imogen said. "I'm staying here."
"You're going home, even if you're spliched in the process!" James watched her as she sat back, crossing her legs and folding her free arm against her stomach, the other stretched behind her. She was so rarely angry he'd never noticed just how beautiful she was in this mood. Even now, with her hair coated in white dust and gravel, she had to be the most beautiful person he'd ever known. "Look, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but Mum is a mess over your leaving."
Imogen slackened in her stance. "She is?"
"Of course she is," James said. "She blames herself."
Imogen swallowed, then turned away from him. "It's not… but I said...I didn't leave because ..."
"Well then, why did you leave, Imogen?" She looked at him, then closed her mouth and looked determinedly the other way. "Fine, don't tell me, but I am taking you home."
Imogen didn't move as James tried to pull her up with him. For all his talk he'd never forgive himself if something happened to Imogen while getting her back and James had never tried taking a side along with him. Was it more difficult with a reluctant companion? Was it even possible? Or, worse, would there be some injury with them bound together this way? He thought through his other options. Taylor wasn't far, but if she hadn't tipped them off already, she was more likely to help Imogen than him. And with Charlie away, James wasn't sure it was a good idea to break into his house for the floo network. Charlie knew some wicked protection charms.
"Alright, well there's a portkey station about twenty kilometers from here. Easy enough to get you back to England that way." He took out his wand, levitating her beside him.
As Imogen was lifted into the air, she cursed, her legs kicking. "Put me down!" she finally yelled.
"Then walk," he said. She landed on her feet, scowled as she adjusted her dress, then walked beside him in silence.
In retaliation, Imogen walked far more slowly than James needed her to. About twenty minutes in he tried to put out his wand hand, but no bus showed up. Either this was too far off the route or the magic wouldn't work while Imogen desired not to go. They'd walked for two hours without seeing anyone or anything.
"It's getting dark," James said.
"Well spotted," Imogen retorted. It was the most they'd said to each other since leaving the quarry.
James could see a cluster of buildings ahead, lights shining in the dimming twilight. A sign with the word "Inn" in large lettering flashed, advertising a cost in galleons. Imogen tried to stall. "We need a place to stay for the night," he said. "Come on."
"No," Imogen said, pulling away again. Her voice raised as she continued. "James, just let me—"
"Silencio," he said, pointing his wand at Imogen. Her words disappeared and she scowled at him. "Sorry, but there may be people close now. No arguments. Just, come on. You don't want to sleep in the woods do you?"
She was tight-jawed as they came closer. All around the main building were identical cottages spread out on a large manicured lot surrounded by woods. James noticed Imogen was looking around with an expression like she was compiling a plan. He stopped the two of them fifty feet from the entrance. "Take my hand," he said. Imogen closed hers into a fist instead. James rolled his eyes, grabbing for her bag, pulling out a sweater and placed it over their hands, giving the appearance of hand-holding. "I can disable that other arm if you don't stop," he warned as she tried to snatch the sweater back.
They went into the lobby. Almost immediately he saw a sign flashing in various languages at the concierge's desk that read "Sorry, no floo." James swallowed back his frustration. It looked like they'd have to walk the distance at this point. Still, he beamed at the man as they came to the desk. He started off rambling to them in Romanian.
"Er, do you have any English speakers?" James asked.
"Ah! Engleesh!" the man said. "Welcome! You need room?"
"Yes," James said jovially. "Me and my new bride—" Imogen shot him a look of disbelief "—are touring your lovely country for our honeymoon! Decided just to see where we landed rather than book anything, so I'm hoping you have something nice available?"
"Ah! My congratulations!" the man said as he looked between the two of them. Imogen had turned away again, still scowling. "Uh, your wive is not happy?"
James leaned in and spoke more quietly. "She's a bit brassed at me. I forgot to pack her favorite lipstick, you know."
"Ah! Well, we give you honeymoon cottage to get you out of, how you say, doggie home?"
"Brilliant! Yes!" James said. "And do you provide dinner at this fine establishment?"
"There is house elf service. Speak to plate, menus on table."
"Thank you very much!"
They were lead to a cottage at the edge of the property by a small, dark haired woman who took tiny steps. "Luggage?" she asked.
"Er, no," James said. "We decided to buy some new clothes in the city."
Either this was perfectly normal behavior, she didn't speak English, or they weren't in the habit of picking up on red flags here in Romania, because the woman kept going, leading them onto a whitewashed porch and opening the door for them. James thanked her, pushing Imogen through the door first. When the woman left, he took the sweater off of their hands and undid the silencing charm.
"Favorite lipstick?" Imogen snapped.
"Yeah, that was good, right?" James replied with a grin. She wasn't sure if she was more irritated at how pleased he was with himself or that his grin still made her feel weak in the knees.
"Did you have to say we were on a honeymoon?" she added, looking around the room. There wasn't a normal light fixture in sight. Instead, they were surrounded by two dozen floating tea light candles set into water lilies.
"I figured since we're sharing a bed, you'd want one large enough to have your own space."
She scoffed. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. You can sleep on the floor."
"Sorry, darling," he said, lifting their connected hands. "Not happening."
Imogen knew he could use the charm as easily to keep her hooked to the bed or a chair, or anything else he saw fit. But if he hadn't thought of that, she certainly wasn't going to volunteer the suggestion. He may apparate back on his own and bring Ginny or Harry with him to fetch her.
The thought of Ginny hurt. Imogen wondered if she'd be able to send a letter before she went through with everything. Would she have time? Besides, what would she say? If a letter was possible, that was one thing, but Imogen could not have Ginny show up. It would be far too tempting to tell her everything. It was a temptation that didn't exist with James right now.
"Come on, let's eat," James said, tugging her towards the table.
Imogen ordered a warm vegetable soup while James requested the pork and potatoes. He dug in as Imogen took her time. She was glad she'd eaten so well at Taylor's as she now had difficulty eating with her left hand and didn't want to deign to complaining about the fact to James.
He was half finished when he grabbed the bottle of champagne that had been left for them in a bucket of ice. Imogen's hand was jerked around as he figured out how to open the bottle, then poured her a glass. "Sorry," he said, finally realizing how his use of his left hand affected her. Apparently trying to make up for his blunder, James moved his left hand close to her glass, allowing her to use her dominate hand to try the champagne. She sipped at the drink. It was more pleasant than she would have imagined. She took another drink before setting it down, attempting the soup again with her left hand.
"So how did you find me anyway?"
He scooped another bite into his mouth, set down his fork, and chewed while he pulled something from his pocket, setting it on the table. Her compact mirror. "Lily promised—"
"Yeah, and I just about hexed her when I figured it out, too," James said, sitting back. Imogen tilted her head. "She didn't give you away, I should say. She carried the bloody thing around with her and I finally realized what was going on. Granted it still wouldn't have helped, but then I saw you with Taylor."
Imogen could have kicked herself. How could she have been so careless? And then she remembered that she didn't have much of a choice. She needed somewhere safe to rest. She eyed the mirror and lunged with her left hand for it, but James was quicker.
"I don't think so," he said, pushing it back into his pocket. There was a pause as she picked up her spoon and ate some more. "What happened to your hand?"
Imogen looked at him. "It doesn't matter," she said.
"No, tell me. I wanna know."
"Yes, well, you gave up getting to know when you decided you'd rather date Shanna Read."
"I didn't—" James stopped, closing his mouth and looking down at his plate, pushing some potatoes around. "I should have never said those things," he said. "And I was wrong about Lorcan."
Imogen blinked, watching him sit back in his chair, squirming uncomfortably. "Yes, you were."
James looked over to her. "You don't have to forgive me," James said. "I have been completely thoughtless, but you can't make the rest of the family suffer for it."
"It's not that," she said. "James, I can't… I just can't go back."
"You aren't in trouble. They aren't going to care that you left. They just want you home. All of them. And you don't have to worry about me being there. Uncle George said I can live above the shop, whether I work for him or not."
He didn't understand what she was saying, and maybe that was better. Imogen's eyes welled with tears as she looked down. She'd never see any of them again. Not Albus, ranting about something he'd read in the Prophet, or Lily dancing freely through the kitchen. Never again would Harry explain a Quidditch match to her. And she would never have Ginny braiding her hair while giving her advice or an encouraging smile.
James reached over, wiping away a tear with his thumb, resting his hand on her cheek as they looked in each other's eyes. "I'll disappear, if you want," he whispered the promise.
Imogen swallowed. "I don't want you to disappear," she whispered back.
James's brow knit as he looked down, recognition flickering in his eyes. He lowered his hand, pulling at the chain around her neck. He pulled it up until the locket sat in his hand, his thumb passing over the engravings on its face. He looked up again, eyes shifting between both of Imogen's.
Imogen didn't know who moved first or if they moved as one, but their lips crashed against each other. The taste of James created a fervor in Imogen as she threw her left hand around his neck. James dropped the locket and weaved his fingers into her short hair, holding her close to him. James pressed kisses down her neck as Imogen's hand was suddenly freed. He lifted her, Imogen wrapping her arms around James as she was pulled to her feet. James placed his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes, with deep, heavy breaths. He waited. Imogen felt the planes of his face beneath her fingers, tilted her chin up so their noses brushed as she gave him one gentle kiss. She ran her hands down James's chest, finding the bottom of his shirt and tugging it upward. He lifted his arms and helped her remove it before lining her jaw with his hands and kissing her again, his lips hungry for hers.
His hands moved gently as he ran his fingers along her outer thighs, up her hips and to her stomach. He pulled the fabric of her sundress up like a slowly rising curtain. Imogen felt heat trail behind his fingers as he moved with less urgency than Imogen felt. He was taking her in, every curve, every rib, every inch. Under his look and touch, there was no impending danger. No threat of discovery. Just them. The rest fell away.
The whole world seemed to speed up. James lead Imogen to the bed, and they were lost in each other, laid bare, body and soul. And in the midst of it all, James whispered her name. It was the most beautiful sound Imogen ever heard.
James fell asleep with one arm across Imogen's chest, the other wrapped tightly around her waist. His hold was protective. Imogen didn't know how long she lay there awake, but it had to have been hours ago that they had fallen into this position. She kept kissing his arm, leaning her cheek into his chest to feel his heartbeat, and breathed him in deeply. She tried to remember every sensation, every breath, every muscle that moved when his sleeping form pulled her into him. At one point, she wove the fingers of her right hand between his, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, little sparks flickering in the path she drew on his skin. He continued sleeping.
The early morning sun broke through a parting in the curtains, touching the edges of James's cheek. Carefully, Imogen disentangled herself from his arms, slowly to keep from waking him. As she crawled from the bed, he turned onto his back, one hand thrown against the headboard rails, the other covering his eyes. Imogen moved quietly around the room, finding articles of clothing and putting them back on. She adjusted her satchel across her body and found James's jeans nearby. She dug for the mirror in the pocket, putting it into her bag.
Imogen watched James for several more minutes, peaceful and still. She stepped beside him, leaning over and kissing the corner of his mouth. He didn't wake, but his lips twitched into a lopsided grin, his chest taking in a deep breath. Finally, she reached out, palm outstretched, and lashed a bind on James's wrist closest to the bed, making the figure eight before turning to leave.
She tried to close the door quietly, though the heavy wood still clapped as the hinges closed. Imogen stood, leaning back against it, taking deep breaths.
"Imogen?" she heard James from inside the room. She walked silently along the porch to the steps that lead down into the grass. "Imogen! No, Imogen, come back!"
Imogen covered her mouth silencing a sob, her legs were weak as she pressed forward towards the line of trees.
"IMOGEN!"
She could release him when she was a few miles off—once she was too far to track. Grasping at trees for support, she weaved in and out of the forest of thin poplars.
"That was smooth," Hal's Scottish lilt came from her right. She stopped, wiping away the tears pouring down her cheeks. Hal leaned cooly against a tree. He'd been waiting for her. "Bang him, then run off in the morning. Surprisingly simple tactic, but effective. Didn't think you had that in yeh, Snow White."
"What do you want from me?"
"I wanted to offer you something," he said. "Mind you, it's because Harper told me she'd come looking for you herself if I didn't. Come with us. We have a place we can all be relatively safe, I think. Away from them."
"Why would I trust you?"
Hal sighed. "Because I owe you one," he said. "If you hadn't followed my call, they probably would have killed Harper."
"Then I get to choose the favor."
"What?"
"Get me to the meadow."
Ginny and Albus hadn't made it home until nearly eleven o'clock the night before. Lily was fast asleep, though James was gone (according to his note) and Harry hadn't returned home. They were exhausted but it was worth it. They found volumes of ledgers of children who were supposed to have been at the orphanage in Bath between 1970 and 1997. Albus was helping her go through the register. "From what I can tell, when a child is adopted, it's entered like this one." He pointed to a line where the original last name had been crossed out with a double line and the new name written above. "There are a couple, usually babies, were they died, like here." This one had a d. 2-82 written in the margin on the right. "But then—" he flipped a few pages forward "—there are some that have the entire registration marked out in double lines."
Ginny flipped to the pages before and after the entry Albus pointed out. There weren't many. Every other page they'd see one. "Did they just change how they marked them?"
"I wondered that at first," he said. "But they still have both the old markings for deaths and adoption, too. Still, the dates they started doing it coincide with a woman by the name of Arayana Ruskin running the books and records. She was fired after five years, but with no reason listed."
"But if she was in charge of the records—"
"She was in charge of current records. Or, current records based on when she was there. Only, we can't just request the records of the people crossed out. Too many to list a specific reason."
"Well, the girls then?"
"That brings us down to… four."
Ginny nodded. "How did you get to be so smart?"
"I always assumed you grabbed the wrong baby at Mungo's."
"Yes, sweetheart," Ginny said, kissing the top of his head. Albus grinned. "But your genius parents thought you were too ill mannered for their liking. Alright, I'll talk to Hermione, see if she knows of a way to get those through muggle authorities."
There was a pop from the living room as Ginny stood. Albus had buried himself into the records again, analyzing the hundreds of names and dates it contained. "Harry," Ginny called, ready to fill him in on their latest finding, but instead found James, sitting on the couch, shoulders rolled down and hands grasping at his hair.
She stepped over, sitting beside him, placing a hand on his back. "What's wrong, love?" she asked quietly.
"I lost her," James's voice cracked. "I had her, Mum. And then she was gone."
James gave into tears, curling up and laying his head on her lap, looking like a distraught five year old. Ginny felt herself choke back tears, grabbing his arm in one hand and running the other through his messy, black hair. "It's alright," she said quietly into his ear. "We'll find her again. We'll find her."
It was early afternoon and the Potters all sat in the living room. Harry was at one end of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees, rubbing his forehead, Ginny was on the opposite end. Lily sat between them, legs crossed and crying into her hands. Albus and James were in the arm chairs opposite them.
This started when Ginny called Harry home from work early, if it could be considered early when he hadn't been home since the day before. They sat James down at the kitchen table, sending the others to their rooms. Harry got them all glasses of butterbeer and asked James to explain what had happened with Imogen. This was one of those times Ginny was grateful for her choice in husband and father to her children. Harry had his own temperamental moments in their youth, but age and training as an auror had made him calm and collected in these scenarios—sometimes infuriatingly so. Especially to Ginny, who had been trained from a young age to react to things the same way as her mother. Either she was protectress or went at a problem with the same explosive quality as a filibuster firework. While James explained, she sat beside him, rubbing his back and biting back any comments as he talked.
James told them that he'd gotten a tip on Imogen's whereabouts. He then followed her, pinned her down, bound her wrist to his, and was on his way with her to a portkey station. He took a long time explaining the decision to get a portkey rather than apparating. "It was dark and we needed a place to sleep. So we found an inn and… and I let her hand free for the night." James stopped looking at Harry, as though he found the table suddenly more interesting. "When I woke this morning she'd used the binding jinx on me and… Imogen was gone." This last statement was said with emotion bubbling up again.
Ginny looked at Harry. He was looking right back. She was sure he'd come to the same conclusion as her.
"And… to what extent were you dressed when you fell asleep?" Harry asked frankly. James avoided both their eyes, looking down at his drink, turning his glass with his fingertips. James didn't get the Weasley genes for blushing, though right around his ears he went pink. "Right. Well, what I really want to know is how you figured out she was with Taylor in the first place?"
James looked up at this, shock winning out over embarrassment. "You knew?"
"It's why I didn't come home last night," Harry said. "Taylor contacted Charlie after Imogen left her, who contacted me. Apparently Imogen needed immediate care, which I'm now guessing means her hand, and Taylor was sure Imogen would have left in a poor state if she'd reached out sooner. Said there was something off, but she couldn't tell what. I sent a message along in the afternoon—which I now know you weren't here to receive—and then worked all night to get permission from the Romanian government to bring a team of our Aurors in to find Imogen. Taylor gave her a tracking stone they use when transporting dragons, should one happen to get loose. Got her to take it with her."
James's face screwed up before he planted it between his folded arms. "Oh god," he groaned, the sound muffled by his arms.
Harry reached across the table, patting his arm. "That's about the measure of it," he agreed. "But it could be worse, James Sirius." They had never told James all the events that lead to Sirius's death. He knew it was while fighting. James just didn't know it was partly because of the impatience of his parents. What Ginny really worried about was that James was more Sirius here than he was them. "Now, tell me how you knew she was with Taylor."
James could barely bring himself to surface, but raised his head, shaking it. "Lily had a mirror," James said. Harry visibly tensed. "She'd been watching Imogen since she left. Imogen took it back from me."
Harry just about lost it. He left the kitchen, walking through the living room, pounding first on Albus's door, then Lily's. "Family meeting. Now."
When everyone was settled (Lily and Albus confused why they'd been called), Harry turned the questions to Lily, who immediately melted down. James, who appeared to be recovering, would fill in what she'd said unclearly or couldn't say, until they had out with everything. Harry spent a lot of the explanation pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. "When did we stop talking to each other?" he snapped after several moments of tense silence.
"Well I didn't keep any secrets," Albus responded.
"Not the right moment," Ginny said to him, giving a warning glance.
"I'm just saying—"
"Stop saying," she said. "Bad form, Albus."
"Your mum is right," Harry said. "This family is not in competition with one another and we are not on opposite teams."
Harry looked over to Ginny. He was thinking through something. The last time he'd had that look, he declared the family would go on a humanitarian trip during holidays so the kids would be more grateful for what they had. It had great intentions, but meant Ginny and him got to wrangle with a four, six, and seven year old through various good-willed activities, many of which they did the bulk of work on as well. He was looking for permission and support. She had no idea what he had planned, but she nodded. He turned back to the rest of them.
"Okay, I'm taking responsibility here," Harry started. "I should have made sure everyone was working in tandem. Instead I've been working with James, who's gone rogue, Mum and Albus have been buried in research, and Lily has been busy playing detective with Lorcan. No more. From now on, everyone knows everything that's going on in this family. No more secrets. And no one is allowed to do anything else the rest of summer until you all know how to send a patronus message."
"I have tickets to see the Hobgoblins before school starts, though," Albus said.
"Nothing else," Harry replied. "If you want to go, you will learn quickly."
"But Dad, I didn't—" Albus spat out in disbelief.
"No," Harry said. "No arguments. I should have at least taught you boys ages ago. And Lily's as old as either of us were when we learned. And if you don't get it by the end of August, no one will do anything over Christmas holiday either. The problems we've had are because of poor communication, so the resolution will be just that— communication."
He looked to Ginny again, though she was already nodding her affirmation. This was a much better grand plan than his last one. "And when are we going to find Imogen?" Ginny asked him.
He took a deep breath. "If they haven't gotten approval back in the office yet, they will soon. I wanted to talk with Taylor first, see what she knows. She's also got what we need to track the stone."
"I'm coming with," Ginny said, pushing herself up from the couch. She looked at Harry who seemed to be mulling it over until she raised an eyebrow. He shrugged his begrudging approval. "Lily, go ahead and tell Lorcan what you know. I'm sure he's worried. Albus, could you make your dad some lunch?"
Everyone else had left the room, going their separate ways. Just James and Harry sat, facing one another.
"You can start looking up the theory on the patronus charm while I'm gone," Harry said. "We'll start tomorrow, hopefully. Imogen needs to learn too."
"Dad, I want to come with."
"You didn't follow orders," Harry replied.
James swallowed back something he felt rising in his throat. "I know, I screwed up, but Dad—"
"You didn't follow orders."
James couldn't stop thinking of Imogen. He swore he could still feel the pressure of her body in his arms. He could see her clearly in his mind. "I have to be there, though."
Harry cleared his throat. "I am taking Broker and Carver with me, your mum is coming, and possibly Taylor. You don't need to be anywhere but here." James leaned back in the armchair. "I do want your help on a puzzle, though. Why do you think Imogen suddenly doesn't plan to come back?"
James shrugged. "She's afraid of getting in trouble."
"No, see, you're thinking like a teenager right now. Think like an auror, son. In her note she said she was coming back. She told Lily she was coming back. Why is she not planning to come back anymore?"
James thought about this. Was this what Lorcan meant when he said James didn't listen to her? Maybe. "She could have been lying to begin with."
"I might think that if it was just Lily she said it to. But she didn't have to write that she'd be back as soon as possible. I wouldn't have expected a note at all if she didn't plan to come back."
"Something changed," James said. Harry nodded. "She said she couldn't come back. To me. She kept saying she couldn't come back."
"Couldn't?"
"She said I can't go back now," James said. He met his dad's gaze. Harry nodded at him.
"We'll make an auror of you yet," he said. "Keep an eye on your brother and sister."