Undesirable
@ophidianbartender
Her eyes stared back at her, filled with life and determination. The smirk that turned into a smile and then a small laugh seemed to taunt her. The words “UNDESIRABLE NO. 27” blinked back at her as well as a guaranteed reward of 1,000 galleons for her head. Whenever Imogen saw her own wanted poster, she’d laugh thinking that what she was doing was worth more than 1,000 galleons.
It was different now.
The risk was worth more than 1,000 galleons and it showed. Her once blonde hair was now a chestnut brown, wet and tangled against her pale skin. Her blue eyes were now sunken and lined with dark circles (or were they bruises) that were only accentuated with bloodshot eyes. She was skinnier than normal, but that was obviously due to the lack of meals she had.
Her unknown blood status made her a target for the Muggle-Born Registration Commission and she was supposed to argue her case in court but Imogen refused. The registration was degrading and unnecessary, as blood status meant absolutely nothing to her. In fact, this whole new system was terrifying! She couldn’t run away and just save herself from the hands of Death Eaters.
Imogen spent months visiting families who were split due to blood status discrepancies and attempting to reunite them, as well as find them safe passage to a place not under control of Voldemort. Her and her accomplices would provide fake documentation in order to get them where they needed to go. Her advertisement was heard over Potterwatch as she remained in constant contact with Lee Jordan and Fred Weasley (her codename was Wheels due to her always having her skateboard) and her way of contact was through small symbols hidden in what looked like postcards to an abandoned mailbox. Each postcard had the names and places of the people needing to leave in code.
Their small group lived in a tent in a remote area of England, often apparating to check the mailbox or to guide a group to the departure area. A portkey was used before they were being tracked down. More illegal documentation and false license got them a boat to sail. Most of their travel was on foot in heavily wooded areas so as not to be detected.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
The group was approaching the ship when they were attacked by snatchers. The ship was set on fire and group and families that accompanied them were killed on site. They left the remains of the bodies and the smoking ship as a reminder for those who defied them.
Imogen wasn’t there when it happened. It was her turn to watch headquarters and decipher messages. It was only when her cat returned with the charred scarf of her dear friend did she know that something went wrong at the departure site.
She left flowers at dock for her fallen comrades and the families that were with them.
When she returned to headquarters, she found it in flames with a woman and man sneering back at her. With wands raised, they fought, Imogen on the defensive end. Flashes of colors would have caused muggles to believe fireworks were being lit, but the blood that flowed from the gashes proved otherwise. As soon as Imogen had them briefly incapacitated, she made a loud bird sound which caused her cat to jump in her bag. She apparated before the perpetrators could grab their wands.
Imogen needed safety. She needed a bath and she needed sleep. Her wanted poster was of a time when she was full of life and energy. Now she just wanted to rest for just a moment. She wanted time to mourn her friends and to contact Potterwatch to let them know what happened.
Potterwatch.
They mentioned a pub that offered safety; a haven for those who have done wrong in the eyes of the ministry. It would take a few days to get there, but she would do whatever it took for just a morsel of rest and a moment to think of a new plan of helping those who are suffering.
The arrival to her beacon of hope wasn’t as glamorous as she imagined. There was no light shining from the heavens to show her the way. There was no flashing sign to indicate safety to those who need it. It was inconspicuous and Imogen would’ve passed it if it weren’t for the sign that said “DAGGERDRY PUB.” The name may have seemed ordinary to those just passing by, but Imogen felt warmth in that sign, as though it was giving her a big hug.
She pushed open the door and stood in front of the entrance. Her head was spinning, her breath was quickening, and her heart was pounding from her chest.
Imogen promptly collapsed.
