she dreamed of paradise``

[Imogen Sauveterre]

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When Imogen first awoke on the island, she had been extremely confused as to how she got there, and where she was in the first place. It was when she stepped outside her rather extravagant bedroom that she remembered everything with horrible clarity. To say that she had been on a downward spiral since summer was an understatement. Florence revealing the truth about Vivi’s parentage, Mathias moving out to live on his boat, Florence fighting for custody of Imogen despite Imogen’s wishes to live with Mathias… all of that was behind the scenes, things she didn’t tell anyone, but kept locked inside for no one to know. September had been all right, except she had let Isaac Nichols and Cameron Troy kiss her far too many times. October was when things began to heat up and she, rather than putting a stop to it, not only allowed it to happen but seemed to feed the flames that burned under her. First, she had kissed Benjamin, even though he had a girlfriend. Then she had been stupid enough to agree to Raiden Rosier’s proposition for a night of fucking. And god, she wasn’t an idiot. Raiden just had a way of making her stupid. Because deep, deep down, she couldn’t have really believed he was just “lonely”. Some part of her must have known he was serious, and she was just stupid to not listen. He didn’t need her, or her “help”. He just wanted something to fuck, and she had said yes. She had said yes, and then later just “changed her mind” and refused him, and dug another foot in her figurative grave. God… she’d never admit this to anyone, but sometimes she wished she’d gone through with it. Raiden wouldn’t hate her, she never would have meet his brothers, Benjamin wouldn’t have been hurt… It was all her fault, all because she was afraid of sex. And she was, really. Everything about it frightened her, and she wasn’t ready for such a thing. Besides, she didn’t trust anyone enough to do that with them. Still… at least if she had done it with Raiden, it’d be over with. She wouldn’t have to worry anymore. Maybe then people wouldn’t see her as some stupid, naïve, innocent, frigid, cold, uptight little prude virgin anymore. Then she had been stupid enough to taunt Donny Rosier, and Benjamin came to her rescue when she was being held against the wall by her throat. It was her fault he’d been punched. Then she’d written to Dyon to get a better sense of him, and god, all the shit with Regulus – it was a wonder Tori was still talking to her. Hell, it was a wonder Imogen was still showing her face in public. God, and there was the disaster of the Yule Ball, where Regulus fucking stood her up to go with her sister… Oh, and she’d gone and humiliated herself in front of Fabian. Where to even begin with everything that was wrong with her liking him! Not only was he three years older (which she didn’t have a problem with, but he obviously did), but he was still getting over a break-up, and she had feelings for Benjamin. She had told Benjamin she’d date him after the holidays, and then gone and let Fabian kiss her. Clearly, she was fucked in the head and was too stupid to see it.

When the holidays came, it was easy to spend time with Benjamin, but she was determined to keep herself busy at the same time. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy him, because she did, but she didn’t trust herself around him much. To be honest, being stood up had hurt, and it took effort for Imogen to get out of bed the next morning to say goodbye to Ian and Jezebel (and Vivi, if she’d been able to find her) as they all went home for the holidays. But she’d put on a smile and bid them farewell, wishing them a happy holiday, and had given them their gifts before they left with instructions to not open them until Christmas. She’d had to give Vivi’s gift to Jezebel to pass along, since she couldn’t find her sister anywhere. As for Ian’s, well… it wasn’t much, but she hoped he liked it anyway. Getting a bloke a teddy bear was a little… unconventional, she supposed, but it wasn’t just a teddy bear. It wore a shirt on it that said “Captain Six Pack”, which Imogen honestly couldn’t believe she’d found. Ian would know what it meant; she hadn’t gotten it for him to cuddle with or anything. She got it because of what she’d said in June, when she called him a teddy bear with a six-pack. And she’d overheard Wendy refer to Ian as “Captain” a few times, so the fact that the shirt said ‘Captain’ was a nice touch as well. Besides, he didn’t have to bring it to school if he thought it would embarrass him in front of his dorm mates. Just so long as he knew what it meant and liked it for what it was, that was all that mattered. And then there was Benjamin’s gift, and… she still didn’t really know what he thought of it. She had managed to get that white peacock feather quill from Scrivenshaft’s after all; of course, it had taken some blackmail of Lucius Malfoy, which had cost her the paper in the end, but at least Benjamin had his gift. She hadn’t signed her name or anything; all she’d done was owl the package to his window in Ravenclaw Tower early on Christmas morning so that it would reach him when he woke up. As to how he reacted, Imogen wasn’t entirely sure; she’d been quite shy about the fact that she’d given him that gift, actually, and so had stayed up in her bed for a good part of the day. On the plus side, she’d managed to get quite a bit of her holiday homework started, and some of it was even done. She was quite pleased to have that out of the way, though at the same time, she had to admit that she was worried about getting bored. As it turned out, she didn’t have to worry about that at all, since the next morning brought horrible, tragic news that shook the remainder of the students in the castle to the core. There had been celebrations in Diagon Alley last night, and there had been an attack. It wasn’t a full-blown attack like St. Mungo’s or Hogsmeade; no, it was an assassination attempt on the Minister for Magic, intended to be quick and stealthy, but whoever was behind it had been spotted. According to the article in the Prophet, there were only about three Death Eaters involved, though none were named as none were caught or clearly seen. With all the Ministry officials and even some Aurors there, the three Death Eaters were outnumbered and fled, but not before inflicting as much damage as they could on the crowd to make their escape easier. Nine were injured, and one was dead. Marlene McKinnon, one of Benjamin’s best friends, his ex-girlfriend and first serious relationship, the cheerleading coach of Hogwarts and one of the most well-known names to ever attend the school. She was dead.

Imogen had anticipated Benjamin being severely affected by her death. She had rushed to his side at breakfast, not saying anything at first but just being there. It wasn’t long before she received a letter herself; she had sent Fabian Prewett a card wishing him a Merry Christmas, and figured it would be his reply. Instead, it was from his mother, saying that she would pass along her card to Fabian and get him to write when he woke up. There had been a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach; everything from Mrs. Prewett’s wording to her suspiciously-shaking handwriting suggested something bad. If Fabian was just sleeping, she had no reason to open his mail or write saying he’d answer when he woke up. Her reply meant that he was taking more than just a nap. It meant something was wrong. She had looked at the article again, and the names of the injured weren’t mentioned, but… but the Prewetts were purebloods, so there was no reason for them to not be celebrating the holidays with other witches and wizards in Diagon Alley. Fabian was an Auror (or, well, training to be one) and he definitely would have done what he could to protect the Minister and all the other people there. But she couldn’t let Benjamin see her upset over that (wasn’t it some sort of betrayal? Fabian was her friend, yeah, but she couldn’t be upset about another guy getting hurt, not in front of Benjamin and not when he was upset too!), especially when he had lost someone so close to him. But Benjamin was acting like everything was fine, and Imogen didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to do. Benjamin was acting fine, but he wasn’t fine, and Imogen knew that act far too well since she tried to play it off nearly every damn day; Benjamin was hurt, Fabian was hurt, and Imogen knew it was selfish for her to feel alone in dealing with this and helping her friends and she felt horribly, horribly guilty for it. It was exhausting, being worried about everyone, trying to take care of them and giving attention to herself last. She had written back to Mrs. Prewett, asking her to please keep her updated, but had received no response. Benjamin was acting too fine about Marlene’s death, which meant he wasn’t fine at all. Ian wasn’t here and he knew him best and he could help him better than Imogen could, he could get him talking, he knew Marlene too—something inside Imogen was very, very close to snapping, and she wanted out. It was selfish – fuck, it was the most selfish thought she’d ever had. Run away while her friends are in trouble because she’s too weak to handle it. But the scary part was that Imogen didn’t care. She wanted out, she wanted to be gone, she wanted to be as far away from this place as she could get. That was when she’d written to Tori, and she couldn’t even remember what she’d written. She’d spent most of that evening in the Concourse, sitting in front of the fire with her arms around her knees, staring blankly at the flames. Benjamin wasn’t fine but she didn’t know what to do; Fabian could be dying and she had no idea; she was so fucking weak and helpless that she might as well crawl into the fire and—

And then the rest of the evening was a complete blur. There was some vague memory of permission slips being signed by her mother – or they looked like they’d been signed by her mother, anyway – and Tori being there, but Tori went home for the holidays… And then there was the walk to Hogsmeade and being Side-Along Apparated away, but Imogen had no idea who she was Apparating with – was it Simon? What was doing there? – and then boarding a small aeroplane somewhere, and Imogen would have been scared if she… well… maybe she was scared, but she couldn’t remember, because everything was a blur of faces she didn’t recognise – except she did know one, that Cody Montague bloke from her year, saying something about a cruise, or a bruise, she didn’t know, but maybe that aeroplane was his since his family was loaded, and… and… then there was an even smaller aeroplane that went over water, and… and everything was warm, but it was night and… and winter wasn’t supposed to be warm… and Imogen didn’t remember climbing any stairs, or falling into bed, or anything. She didn’t remember that Cody had explained that his family owned a private jet, or that they had time-share on an island home during winter. She didn’t remember him explaining to her and Tori that they had chosen to go on a cruise for the holidays this year, but he’d let them enjoy their house on the island while they were gone. She didn’t remember Tori helping her pack her bags or getting permission from Dumbledore. She didn’t remember anything until she woke up the morning of December 29 in a place she didn’t recognise. The island itself was absolutely beautiful; it was a tropical paradise, with tall trees and brightly-coloured flowers and an ocean with white sand just down a hill. To say that her breath was taken away was an understatement; she wouldn’t have been surprised if she was blue in the face. It felt like a dream, but pinching herself proved that it was real. Imogen turned back from her window and looked back at her bed, which had to have been one of the softest she’d ever slept in, and noticed her trunk on the stand next to it. She opened it up and didn’t see many clothes she recognised, even after giving Tori permission to control her entire wardrobe. It was full of skirts and shorts, for one thing, and even some dresses and – oh god, no, it had bikinis. Imogen gulped, hoping Tori wasn’t planning on making her wear those, though she understood why there were shorts and skirts as already she felt far too warm in her PJs. She hurriedly changed into the first pieces of clothing she could find that she figured wouldn’t make her too uncomfortable before heading for the door, which turned out to be the door for the closet, but after a bit more looking around she found one that led into a hallway. She followed it until she found a small kitchen, and then out the window she could see Tori on the porch. Imogen strode over slowly, stepping outside and staring out at the water and wanting nothing more in that moment than to run at it and swim, but she held back and looked down at Tori.

“Hey,” she said, since that seemed like a good place to start, then, “So… what is all of this? Where are we? Is everything okay?”

What a stupid question.

She knew it wasn’t.