The Blacks were well known for a few things. First, their most noble and pure blood. Second, their attractive nature. Third, the Black brothers, Sirius and Regulus, who had fought against the Dark Lord Voldemort. Mainly, though, the Blacks were noted for their resourcefulness and copious amounts of intelligence.
Imogen Hope Black wasn't antisocial, nor was she a workaholic. Imogen couldn’t change the fact that she was introverted to the point of seeming shy to those who didn't know her, nor could she change the fact that her job at the Ministry of Magic called on her at strange hours.
On leaving Hogwarts, Imogen had been granted immediate entry into the Bonham Academy of Magical Medicine and Healing. Most Hogwarts graduates who wanted to pursue a career as a Healer had to prepare for another year before they could take the entrance examination, but a student who received an Outstanding rating on all of the necessary N.E.W.T. subjects was exempt from the entrance exam. Imogen had been in Ravenclaw House and had also been the Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a reason.
Even at Bonham Academy, Imogen had been ahead of her fellow students. She completed her coursework and training in fifteen months instead of eighteen and went directly to work at St. Mungo’s. Six months after that, she was recruited by the Ministry’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement to join one of the select investigational teams as a medical examiner.
So here she sat, examining a blood sample found at a recent magical catastrophe. There were a few Muggles found near the mostly deserted highland where the fire had taken place, but there was no doubt that magic had been involved. How else would exactly three hundred and thirty-three square meters be set aflame in a perfectly circular design? The Muggles assumed it was ‘extraterrestrial’ activity. They always did. The Muggles who had seen it would have their memories modified, and the Magical Damage Control Department would have the damage to the land repaired by noon. That’s just how they handled these situations.
It had been the twenty-first when Imogen’s supervisor had called her to report to the fire. The sun was now rising on the morning of the twenty-second. It wasn’t unnatural for the witches and wizards in this department to spend all night at the office and then stay for the regular day of work afterwards. The team was dedicated, and their supervisor trusted them to work when they needed to work, and to rest when they could.
Luckily, the fire had been merely that: a fire, which meant that Imogen would be keeping her morning engagements. She was expected for brunch at the estate of her best friend, Siobhan, and it would be rude to yawn through the meal. She would pack up for now and come back later in the afternoon. She obviously needed a break as it was; there couldn’t possibly be a three-to-one ratio of silver in the blood she was analyzing.
A solid fifteen minutes: they say that’s all the sleep you need if you take naps throughout the day.
Imogen didn’t believe it, but that’s just about all she had time for. She had a list of things she’d planned on doing this morning before she went to Siobhan’s, and the fact that she’d been summoned unexpectedly to work didn’t change that. After her quick rest, Imogen tamed her hair, gave her cheeks a slight blushing charm and changed into a fresh, smart looking set of robes that was very flattering on her. It was also trimmed in grey to enhance her eyes. It may have been a tad fancy for brunch with a friend, but Siobhan’s attractive brother Liam had been known to drop in at the estate any time. It didn’t matter that Liam, a bit of a womanizer, had been making frequent trips to Sweden; it was just the fact that Imogen Black couldn’t help but like to be praised and admired.
She was fond of walking through the city streets of London, but one look outside told her that wouldn’t be the smartest decision this morning.
“Buckets of rain,” she mused as it pelted the windows of her home. It was a shame she couldn’t enjoy it properly. She loved rain.
Imogen Apparated directly to the home of her grandmother, Elizabeth Mavick. She was greeted in the entryway and ushered into the breakrast room by her great aunt Amelia.
“Well, don’t you look lovely today, my dear!” Her grandmother smiled broadly and gestured to a seat at the table.
“Thank you. The two of you look well.”
Aunt Amelia smiled, and Imogen walked over to hug her grandmother before sitting down.
“We try in our old age. But look at those bags under your eyes!” Elizabeth held Imogen’s head in her hands, examining her face before whipping her wand out and muttering a small charm. The older woman clucked her tongue. "They work you too much, Immi."
"What else am I going to do?”
"You could always sit at home and knit." Grandmother smiled impishly. "Tea?"
"Only with scones."
"Always with scones. Cream and jam, as well. I'd like to believe I know my little Immi well enough to remember these important things."
Amelia offered to fetch the tea and scones, and Imogen waited until she was gone before speaking again. "How is Mum?"
"No changes to her condition, though she seems to perk up whenever you visit her."
"And how is Aunt Amelia doing?"
"Good in body, poor in spirit, though she puts on a braver face than anyone I know."
"I can think of someone else in this room who is rather brave. So, tell me how you are. Honestly."
"My legs are stiff from so much walking over the years."
“I actually brought you something for that.” Imogen smiled and dug around in her large satchel for a jar of salve she’d been developing. “And how is your spirit?”
“Taking care of the people I love the most makes me happy. Watching over your mum isn’t a burden, and I’d do anything if it were possible to get Amelia’s voice back. She could sing like a lark when we were younger.”
Imogen reached across the table, setting down the jar, and then gave her grandmother’s hand a squeeze.
After tea and scones and quick check ups on the three women of the house, Imogen Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. She had one stop before popping over to Siobhan’s. She needed some of Fortescue’s produce. Nothing else really compared, and she knew her best friend couldn’t resist a delicious strawberry. Fabian Fortescue, brother and supplier of famed ice cream maker Florean, had mastered no one knew what sorts of charms and had been growing the most delectable fruits and selling them in Diagon Alley.
The rain had finally cleared, though the streets were still wet. Imogen walked with purpose, but still took in her surroundings. It was pleasantly busy throughout the wizarding shopping district, but not overwhelmingly so. Just enough hustle and bustle to keep it cheery. As Imogen turned the corner, she caught sight of someone she did not want to see. Someone she had tried to avoid as much as she could for seven years at Hogwarts, which had been mostly impossible, seeing as they’d been in the same house.
Luna Lovegood was standing in front of Fortescue’s Market. Imogen quickly ducked behind a newsstand in the street.
It wasn’t that Luna was a rude person, or unintelligent. She was just strange and awkward to talk to. Peeking through the stacks of papers and magazines, Imogen could see there was no possible way she could slip into Fortescue’s undetected. It also looked as if Luna was in no hurry to end the conversation she was having with one of her fellow shoppers.
Imogen jumped and spun around when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Imogen, what are you doing?” Andrew Kirke, prominent reporter at the Daily Prophet, asked, an amused look playing on his face.
“You gave me a fright!” Imogen replied.
“What are you doing?” he repeated. His green eyes were full of mirth and his blonde hair was catching the sun, and Imogen had to remind herself not to stare at her friend. “You’re obviously not going to work dressed like that.”
“No,” she confessed.
“So it seems that you’ve got some high intoned fancy to-do. How is it that I did not merit an invitation?” He gave her a pout.
“I suppose I’ve just got better connections.” They both laughed. Imogen looked back over her shoulder.
“Are you going to make me ask you again just what it is you’re doing?”
Looking back at Andrew, she sighed, knowing how silly she was going to sound. “I need a punnet of strawberries and half a dozen oranges and two kiwis. And a punnet of raspberries, as well.”
“You can’t get those at a newsstand.”
“I know, but there is no way I can get in and out of Fortescue’s without being noticed by Luna Lovegood.”
Andrew looked over her shoulder and chuckled. “You said oranges, kiwis, strawberries and raspberries, yes?”
Imogen nodded.
“Wait here. I’m about to save your day. Do buy a paper or something. You look ridiculous just standing here spying on people.”
He left in a flash. Andrew Kirke did everything quickly. He was a reporter at the Daily Prophet, and Imogen knew him so well because he’d been assigned to cover the investigation team that Imogen was a part of. Andrew was tall and well built without being overwhelming. He was full of charm, and very intelligent. The two had a lot in common and got along really well. Imogen found it was easy to be around him most of the time, though at times he had an air of casual pride that was unbearable and exhausting. It was those times that Andrew felt he knew everything that was going on. He knew when someone was spouting off a silly idea. He also made sure people knew when he’d attained some new recognition or achievement. He had a right to be proud though. He’d always been talented, and he’d been Head Boy at Hogwarts and even played a bit of Quidditch, winning the House Cup with his team. It didn’t help that a fair few girls had flung themselves at him over the years.
Ultimately, no one was perfect, but Imogen thought that Andrew was a lot closer than most people. He returned in a little over five minutes with a sack of produce under his arm and a huge smile on his face.
“Andrew, thank you so much. What do I owe you?” she asked pulling out her coin purse.
Andrew handed her the bag of fruit and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night and we’ll call it even.”
Imogen opened her mouth to reply, but she was shocked.
“I’ll come round to your place at seven, Immi,” he chuckled as he turned and walked down the street. He turned back to look at her a moment later, giving her a huge smile. Imogen blushed and then Disapparated to Siobhan’s.
Paint the Silence by electronicquillster
Chapter Notes: Imogen Black gives us an insight to things going on away from the Weasleys.