1: Trouble - Fred Weasley

15. one for the road

theres no need to show me round baby, i feel like i've been here before

i've been wondering whether later when you tell everyone to go

will you pour me one for the road?

-

It was a very rainy Saturday morning, and Imogen was so exhausted from her revision the night before that she'd gotten dressed and lay straight back down on her bed. Exams weren't for another year, but she'd left her revision for her OWL's far too late last year, and she could already feel herself forgetting what she'd studied at the start of the year. The notorious difficulty of NEWT's terrified her, especially now that she had her St Mungo's position to work towards.

Rewarding herself for her hard work the night before, Imogen was reading a muggle novel Hetty had leant her. She'd thought, going off of the title, that it would be boring, but the book continued to prove her wrong with every page she turned. It had taken her a while to get used to the writing style, which used a heavy Scottish dialect, but once she did she found it sort of charming.

When she was on page one hundred and and two, the door swung open, and in strutted Mo.

"Hi," she said gruffly, seeing Imogen on her bed.

"Hi," Imogen said back. This had become routine for them now.

She looked back down at her book, but then found her eyes wandering over to Mo, sat on her own bed. Mo's foot seemed to be tapping the floor, and she stared ahead restless. Imogen's eyes returned to her book, not reading.

It was barely a few minutes later when her eyes were dragged upwards by a sudden flurry of footsteps.

"Why haven't you apologised yet?" Mo demanded, looking cross. She was standing over Imogen.

Imogen regarded her for a moment. She hadn't been expecting this. "Why haven't I apologised?"

Mo looked incredulous. "You nearly ruined sex night for me!"

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Because I didn't get off with Adrian Pucey?"

Imogen was sure she saw some shared amusement underneath Mo's cold veneer, and she seemed to search for the right words, before she huffed and stomped her foot.

"Fine!" she said, crossing her arms. "If I say I'm sorry, can we be friends again?"

It was hardly a proper apology, but Imogen couldn't resist her pouty face. And besides, Mo clearly needed someone to talk to.

"Come on," Imogen said, a mild smile on her face. She patted the spot next to her on her bed, and Mo seemed aflush with relief as she rushed to take the spot offered to her.

Just like that, it was as if they'd never fallen out. Mo filled her in on every detail of her escapades with Victor, and Imogen found herself actually enjoying hearing about it.

"Maybe... this big," Mo said, holding her hands out in front of her to demonstrate. "But very girthy."

Imogen laughed so hard she could have pissed herself. She'd missed Mo, she really had.

Maybe she should have told her all about Wilma and boxing day, but she didn't want to bring the mood down. Plus, she'd only just about stopped being sad about it herself, and talking about it with Mo would probably drag up all those feelings again unnecessarily. It was enough for now to dutifully listen to her speak; to be back in her confidence.

A couple of hours later, when their conversation had come to a natural lull, Mo took her hand.

"Sit with me at the second task?"