The Tale of Jamie Devereaux

To Hell With Feminism

Chapter Forty-Nine: To Hell With Feminism

Jamie Devereaux Bruce was sitting in her charms class, cross-armed, and purposefully ignoring the red-headed boy beside her. Fred ran a hand through his hair and sighed low, "Jamie, come on." He bemoaned. The little witch tilted her body away from him and flipped her long hair in his face. Fred spluttered at the action.

There was a snicker from behind them and Alicia Spinnet leaned her body closer to the table the couple sat at. Professor Flitwick was demonstrating the proper hand movements for a shattering charm, which was intended to crack objects around the witch or wizard performing it. The Charms class would end in only a few minutes, so most of the students were daydreaming—courtesy of the testing daydream charm—or whispering to one another. George Weasley was trying to fold parchment in a muggle style airplane the way Jamie had showed him, but he was failing miserably. Around his feet, ripped up pieces of paper littered the floor. Adrian Pucey was practically cross-eyed as he stared across the lecture room. In her anger, Jamie Devereaux was unintentionally facing the obnoxious Slytherin. She was overcome with a desire to chuck one of her blue pens down Adrian's open mouth. Alicia's hair fell into her face as she stretched over the small table. "What are you two bickering about?"

The half-Veela raised an eyebrow at Fred as if daring him to tell the other Gryffindor girl. The background noise that was Flitwick's voice announced class to be over, and both Fred and Jamie got to their feet. Angelina, Alicia, and George joined the fighting couple as they headed into the halls of Hogwarts. Fred's shoulders were slouched, "She's mad at me because—"

"He took the sweater he gave me back. Just stole it right out from under my nose like the monster he is." Jamie huffed, looping her arm through Alicia and hugging her close, "Can you believe that?" This was an exaggeration, and everyone knew it. The way Jamie's eyes were lit up held no true anger.

Fred's mouth was opened in disbelief, "I wanted to give you a different one that didn't have a giant 'F' on the front of it! Aren't you the one always running around promoting equality? I thought having my initial on your person would be something you were against." The group of Gryffindor's walked in a clump and a few onlookers drew their brows together at the sight of a disgruntled Fred Weasley.

"You mean because women have been seen as objects since the dawn of time and that men today still feel a societal pressure to claim the women they are with?" Jamie prompted.

"Exactly!" Said Fred, emphatically.

Jamie's nose turned up in the air, "While that might be true, it was my favorite sweater and so what if it made me look like a 1917 housewife that can't string more than two individual thoughts together? It was cozy and I liked it and I want it back."

George leaned down to Angelina's height, "This makes me wish I paid attention in Muggle Studies."

"But that was nap time." Angelina said, a fake look of confusion on her face. George's head tilted back when he laughed. The Gryffindor chaser's eyes narrowed in on his neck and she jerked her gaze to look in the direction they were walking. A rush of heat hit her face and Angelina studied Alicia and Jamie in front of her. Jamie was holding on to Alicia and leaning as far away from Fred as she could.

Fred groaned, "Fine. Bloody hell, woman, you can have the damned sweater back if it means so much to you." His eyes rolled, "To hell with feminism."

A smile split across Jamie's face, revealing her dimples, "Oh, Fredward, you're too kind!" Fred mumbled something under his breath about fickle women and psychopaths, "What was that?" Jamie asked, dangerously.