Imogen was only fourteen and she'd never been in love before, so she didn't know how it felt. But whenever she thought about Callum her stomach felt kind of funny and her cheeks got hot and her heart started hammering nervously in her chest and her palms got a little bit sweaty (which was gross), and she thought maybe that was what it was? It was weird. It felt a bit like indigestion. Like she'd eaten too much cake and then run around in the hot sun or something. But she hadn't had cake at all and it was freezing out side. She guessed that was why they called it 'love sick'.

 Anyway, Callum was supposed to sit with her on the train ride back to Hogwarts and keep an eye on her, Daddy had said so. This made Geoff very happy, she knew, because he hated when she tagged along after him. Imogen didn't know why. It wasn't like she was a baby anymore, not like Audrey. She was a lady, and while Geoff was stupid and useless, he had some really cute friends. She wouldn't have minded peeking at them from behind her magazine.

 But Callum was better! He was so tall and strong and handsome and brave and she guessed that since they were going to get married some day that made him her boyfriend. And since he was her boyfriend he would of course be super nice to her and tell her how pretty she was and buy her something from the sweets trolley. And then he'd hold her hand or maybe even kiss her cheek! It was all thrillingly romantic, and she hummed an old Celestina Warbeck tune about true love as she swung her legs back and forth and waited for him to find her.

 ...And waited. And waited. And waited. She was, in the end, forced to buy her own sweets from the trolley (she got Callum a chocolate frog, just in case he showed up, but he didn't, so she ate that, too), and eventually fell asleep for a little while. When she woke up, they had to have been at least half way to school and Miss Imogen Marsh was seething with indignation. How dare he just abandon her?! Well, if he wasn't going to come looking for her, she was going to look for him.

 Carefully locking Duchess in the compartment, not wanting her to run loose through the train (that wouldn't end well, she thought), Imogen clutched her wand tightly and stalked down the train corridor, poking her head into compartment after compartment. Finally after what seemed like an eternity of searching she found him. Pushing open the compartment door, she stood just inside, hands on her hips, and positively glowered at the older boy.

 "Where HAVE you been?" She demanded, pursing her lips and giving her bright red hair a toss. "I've been waiting for ages and I had to buy my own sweets and everything!"

Callum was lounging on a car by himself. He had been too lazy to locate Maeve, and half afraid of wandering the train for fear of running into Imogen. His holiday had not been what he had expected. Callum had fully intended on spending the holiday back and forth with Maeve and goofing off with his brothers and torturing Blake. He had all of it planned out very neatly, and then, on Christmas Eve, his parents had shuffled him off to have dinner with the Marsh family.

This was very odd, and it was not at all like how their Christmases usually went. His mother had been particularly fussy over how he was dressed and his manners. Callum had dutifully obeyed, and had gone along to the Christmas dinner, and had been completely flabbergasted at the announcement of his engagement to Imogen. Callum distinctly remembered dropping his glass of wine and staining his dress shirt and "ruining" the evening- or so his mother had claimed.

He had been under the assumption they were past arranged marriages. He was fully capable of finding a suitable wife of his own- it was going to be Blake, Darren, and the others who needed help with finding a wife. They should have given Imogen to Blake- they were better matched in age at least Callum had done nothing but complain about it all winter, but his parents had not relented. And now he was stuck with a stupid fiance who didn't seem to comprehend his lack of interest- and a girlfriend who would kill him if she found out about his betrothed. Callum was really going to end up getting the erumpent's horn...

And now, the nightmarish little brat was barging into his compartment to fuss at him. Callum knew that he had been ordered (and had promised) to look after her on the train. But he hadn't meant it. "I've been here," he told her, not caving to her little tantrum. "Relaxing, and enjoying the train ride until you came along. Don't you have some girlfriends to go and gossip with?" he asked, closing his eyes again, hoping if he pretended he wanted a nap that the little beast would be on her way.

 Callum closed his eyes, and Imogen practically sputtered in indignation! (Except that princesses do not sputter, and while Imogen wasn't really a princess, she figured she was the closest thing to one at Hogwarts and had to keep up appearances, give the people a good example.) First he'd abandoned her, and now he was trying to dismiss her like she was a... a common mudblood or something! It was unacceptable. Didn't he know he was supposed to be groveling at her feet, begging for forgiveness right now?

 "Of course I have friends!" She stamped her foot and frowned at him. If he thought he was getting rid of her that easily, he was crazy! "But I didn't sit with them because you promised you would sit with me." And she'd felt all grown up at the prospect of sitting on the train with her very own boyfriend and bragged to all her friends (and anyone else who would listen), but he hadn't even showed. It was positively humiliating!

 "I'm going to tell my father about this," she informed him primly, taking the seat across from him and crossing her arms over her chest. "He'll be most displeased to find out you're treating me so poorly."

"I didn't promise I would sit with you, Mo." Callum had just now decided that he was going to call her Mo. It was manly, not dainty, and it would probably grate on her nerves. Besides, it fit her horribleness. (Not that she was entirely horrible. Imogen was pretty, but she was just so... immature. And didn't even have boobs. What the hell was he supposed to do with a fourteen year old girl who didn't even have boobs? Oh well, at least he had Maeve, and she had boobs. Boobs he was allowed to enjoy.) "I promised that I would take care of you. You're taken care of. You have sweets, you're not dead, and you're not associating with the wrong crowd. I would think my supervision has been very successful."

Callum didn't bat an eye at the statement she would tell her father on him. "You do that, Mo. Maybe he'll decide that we aren't right for each other and promise to marry you off to someone else... Maybe Chancelier or Harper. They might be a good match for you, don't you think?" he smirked at her as he said it. Callum knew he was far more desirable. Then again, in his opinion, he was about a million times more attractive than any other male that they went to school with.

"So you go ahead and tell your daddy, Mo. If you want, I'll even confess to it. Worst that happens to me is I get grounded and I get to choose a different wife. But think of your reputation if you run through boys because you're never satisfied. No family would want you to marry their son- they'd be afraid you would lose interest and leave him for someone else. No pureblood family could have that, now could they, Mo?" He chuckled darkly, closing his eyes again. "Now, why don't you run along and let me finish my nap, hm?"

 Mo?! Imogen kept count, and he called her by this foul nickname an astonishingly cruel grand total of four times. It was... it was the most horrifying thing she'd ever heard of! "Don't call me that!!" The red head demanded, her fingers curling into fists. She hated that nickname. It was so... unladylike. Had Geoff told Callum to call her that? She was going to murder her brother. "My name is IMOGEN." Or Genie, if one must call her something else. But never Mo.

 "And you didn't take care of me at all! You didn't even say hello! You just ignored me." Imogen Marsh did not like to be ignored. "It can't be called supervision since you didn't supervise. You didn't even," she added sulkily, slumping further back in her seat, "help me with my luggage." She had had to pull the trolley, with her trunk and various boxes and Dutchess' carrier, all by herself. Manual labor! It was shocking. "My arms are going to be sore, and it's all your fault."

 Unfortunately, her threat had not had the desired effect. Callum didn't seem to care at all about what her papa thought, which was sort of a new idea for the third year. To Imogen, Alastair Marsh was the be all end all, the first and last say in everything. The idea of not even caring what that gentleman thought was revolutionary. And absolutely insulting. Her? Marry Razzy Chancelier or Erin Harper? "Don't be ridiculous," she told him scornfully, giving her hair another toss. "I would never marry anyone like that. I've heard..." she lowered her voice, eyes widening as she leaned forward and whispered, "I've heard they kiss other boys!" How shocking!

 This meeting was not going well at all, and it was making Imogen both angry and confused and upset. Didn't Callum want to marry her? What was wrong with her? She was pretty and rich and well mannered, and all right she might not have been the brightest berry on the bush but she wasn't flat out stupid either! Callum should have been jumping for joy over the idea of marrying her! "Why are you being so mean to me?!" She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a petulant, hurt expression. Honestly, she might have to start crying if he didn't stop.

"Mo is my pet name for you," he told her lazily, smirking. "Everyone calls you Imogen- don't you want me to be special?" he inquired, faking a pout. "I would think that was what you wanted... I could be wrong, though. I mean, mature women like pet names- they find them cute. Perhaps you just aren't there yet?" He sat up, focusing his attention on her more fully. "You'll have to forgive me, Imogen... I'm used to a certain type of woman. An older, more mature woman... With boobs."

"Don't be such a baby, Mo. Your arms will be just fine. Besides, I tried to find you, but I couldn't. You know it's a mob out there on the platform trying to get on the train. Every red head I found wasn't you, so I just assumed you went on without me. In case you're unaware, in most cases of arranged marriages, the participants aren't very happy about it. Don't you know anything? Godric. I can't marry a stupid woman." Not true. Callum and a dumb woman would get along just fine. He was very much the women should be seen and not heard type... But Imogen sure as hell liked to talk a lot. He'd have to break her of that. Because it was bloody annoying.

He groaned loudly when she looked like she was about to cry. "Can't you just shut your trap for five minutes? I just want to take a bloody nap. Stay in here- I don't give a damn. But don't come in here flapping your gums and interfering with my quiet train ride back to school." Callum resituated himself, waiting on the onslaught of tears. He was very insensitive- but it was because he didn't really care about Imogen. Callum cared about Maeve. He liked her. She was pretty, she was older, and he had been seeing her for a while. And this was throwing a huge curveball at his plans for his last half of the year. What were his parents thinking?