When Imogen Vogel arrives with the rest of the Beauxbatons delegation to the Triwizard Tournament, she finds herself fitting in with the students far better than at her own school.
{Goblet of Fire - Deathly Hallows}
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dew drops clung to the grass as the sun rose the next morning over the lake, slowly inching forward blade by blade to seep into the castle.
Imogen, unlike the rest of her school, had watched the dawn. Sweet songs emanated from her violin as the sky stood a blazon of pinkish and purple hues. The gentle lapping of the water over the rocky pebbles at her feet was almost like a metronome, slowly guiding her through her slow, deep melody.
A light breeze wisped through her hair, some flaxen strands blowing into her face.
"Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Imogen pulled her violin from the crook of her neck, turning to face a tall brunet boy who had stumbled onto her practice without realising. Embarrassment tinged his cheeks red and sweat beaded his brow from where he had been running.
"Oh, it's okay." She smiled, packing up her violin. "I was at the end of the song anyway."
"Are you sure?"
Imogen nodded, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was still in her pyjamas, her slippers laying a foot away on the slightly damp grass. "I'm sure."
"Sorry again," the boy said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was in my own world and I didn't hear you."
Sliding her bare feet into her slippers, Imogen grinned at him. "So was I. I wouldn't have noticed you were there until you shouted rather loudly."
If it were even possible, the boy's cheeks went an even darker crimson, and he was staring at his shoes as if they had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. Only now looking her in eye, he smiled slightly and said, "I'll see you around Violin Girl."
"And I'll see you around, Runner Boy," she replied.
Shaking her head, she strode back over the lawn with her violin case in hand, grass crunching underfoot. None of the other girls were awake when she returned to the Beauxbatons carriage, the doors off the corridor were all shut.
Imogen quietly slipped inside her room, propping her violin back against the wardrobe.
She silently dragged a brush through her hair, pulled on her silk uniform and pinned her Deputy Head Girl badge to her pale blue lapel, all before the lights in any of the other girls' rooms had been turned on.
An inkwell, quill and roll of parchment had been neatly slipped into her rucksack, her textbooks in a pile on her desk.
Tying her blonde hair back into a ponytail, Imogen donned her hat and went out into the main section of the carriage. The travel seating had been exchanged for comfortable sofas and armchairs, a fireplace had appeared, though no flames roared behind the grate.
Madame Maxime smiled at her, gesturing for her to take a seat.
"Bonjour, madame," Imogen chimed, sitting gracefully in a chair by the empty mantle, opposite her headmistress.
