1: Trouble - Fred Weasley

8. oh daddy

"Ill?" he scoffed, "Surely you shouldn't be ill after that healer nonsense you were doing last year."

Imogen accepted her own salmon from Nimmly, looking at the impressive spread rather than at her father. "Well, I don't know everything yet."

"Yet?" His brows were furrowed. 

Imogen paused before answering.

"Well, there's this placement program at St Mungo's. It's an excellent opportunity, only the most skilled students get it, if no one's up to scratch they don't even take anyone on-"

Phineas waved his fork at her, his eyes closed in frustration. "Yes, yes, and I'm sure it's very promising... for those who are unable to aspire to more-"

"But father-"

"You, fortunately, are very capable. You know there are openings in my department, positions that will lead to powerful roles by the time you're twenty one. This is the kind of path people kill for, Imogen, so it's high time you learn to be grateful."

His eyes were open now, wide and serious. Imogen shook her head, looking down at her plate. "I just think it would nice to actually help peop-"

"Don't shake your head at me!" he snapped. Now he was the one shaking his head, the lines on his forehead more pronounced than ever. "Honestly, Imogen. Listen to yourself... Help people." He cut himself off, apparently too angry to finish his point.

Imogen shovelled food into her mouth, as he sighed. "You know I adore your giving nature, Imogen. It's very sweet. But you need to learn that it scarce has a place in your future. You will learn to carry yourself with the dignity that our name demands. Save your compassion for your husband, and your children."

There was no point in arguing. "Yes, father. I'll try and remember." she said, resigned.

His tone softened. "Thank you. I'll send the application for the under-positions through to you at Hogwarts when I receive them."

The remainder of their lunch was spent mostly in silence, and when her plate was clear she went and sat at the bottom of the garden, surrounded by the beautiful flowers with one of the library books she'd brought with her. Though she needed to wear her coat, the sun was shining, and sat amongst the freesias and irises, she began to relax a little, wishing she was back at Hogwarts. Phineas had returned to his study, telling her he'd see her at dinner.

To Imogen's surprise, it wasn't just the two of them at dinner. As she was coming back inside, she found her aunt Wilma, who was just a couple of years younger than Phineas, placing her peacock-blue overcoat on the coat rack. Underneath was a high collared grey skirt-suit and a pair of glossy heels, and her hair was held in a twist at the back of her head with a jade-encrusted clip. She looked immaculate, but when Imogen rushed over to give her a hug, she found she smelled very strongly of day old spirits. Pulling back to look into her face, Imogen asked how she was.

"Oh, don't look at me with all that concern." Wilma laughed, patting Imogen on the shoulder. Now closer, Imogen could see that her makeup had been cried in and cleaned up.

"It's nothing, darling." she said in her husky voice, after Imogen's concerned face stayed put. "Zuri's just left me again."

Imogen's stomach swirled with worry. "Oh no. I'm sorry, Wilma."

"Don't be," she said gruffly, "it's my own fault for falling in love with someone far better than me."

Imogen opened her mouth to disagree, but Wilma cut her off. "Have you got anyone?"

'C'mere' echoed in Imogen's mind. With a minuscule sigh, she shook her head.

"Good. Keep it that way. Love is a ball ache." Wilma looked around the large entrance hall, grimacing. "Now, I need a drink."