The Tale of Jamie Devereaux

That Damned Hufflepuff

Chapter Fifty: That Damned Hufflepuff

There was a dark air around Jamie Devereaux Bruce after learning, for the first time, the extent of her own abilities. Minerva McGonagall was intrigued and shocked, thinking back to the time Jamie had subtly moved a finger of hers with her own will. Before, she had brushed it off as old age and twitching hands. Now she knew that Jamie—little, kind, bullheaded Jamie—could control people with the power of her aura and strength of her voice. It seemed impossible, but so did magic a lot of the time. It was terrifying to think the types of endeavors and problems the half-veela would likely face in the future, and how easily Albus Dumbledore had kept Jamie in the dark.

Jamie sat cross-legged on the couch of the Gryffindor common-room, facing Fred Weasley who had an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. Jamie had spoken fast, her heart racing as she tried to reiterate all she had been told that evening, desperate not to forget anything. Still, she left out the love portion, fearful of the can of worms that would open. The common room was cleared, it was late in the night and it was a brief stroke of luck. A fire crackled in the fireplace, lighting up Fred's features with a soft glow. His lips twitched, a joke coming to the front of his mind, but he held back. Waiting...biding his time before he could deliver it and wash the fear from Jamie's eyes and replace it with either an eye-roll or an out-right laugh. Fred reached out, pulling Jamie between his legs so her back rested against his chest when she was done talking. The little witch huffed at his man-handling. When he reached for her hair, Jamie outright sighed, "What are you doing, Fredward?"

"Hush, Jamison, I'm trying to comfort you." He responded, playing with the long tendrils of silver hair. "This was a big day and you've talked it all out I am sure with McGonagall, so when you're ready to talk it through tomorrow or another day, we can. But right now, you need to relax and just forget about it for a minute or two." Fred's voice changed into a fake, misty voice, like Professor Trelawney, "Relax your mind." He twisted Jamie's hair, attempting to braid three parts of hair together as he saw Loren Bruce do during the Christmas break.

Fred's hands yanked her hair. "Ouch!" Jamie cried, swatting her hand behind her head, "This isn't comforting!"

He laughed behind her, his legs stretching out on the couch and cocooning Jamie, "What are you talking about, Jamie, you love when I play with your hair."

"Forty-five detentions might beg to differ." Said Jamie, wincing again when Fred made another tug of her hair, "God, Fred, what are you doing back there?"

Fred muttered an apology and touched her more gently, but didn't release her hair, "Those detentions were the budding and beautiful beginning of our relationship. You couldn't get enough of me and that's okay to admit, Jamie. You wanted an excuse to get me alone and away from the many fans that surround me at all times, so you got us in trouble. Those Veela skills got nothing on my ability to read you like a book."

Her mouth was open in disbelief, "Did you hit your—ouch—head? That is the exact opposite of what happened! You were the—I plotted your murder at least a hundred times during those detention—ouch! God, you're horrible at this!"

"There is no reason to call me God, darling. But if you're a demigod and I'm a God then I am more powerful. Maybe that prophecy is about me." Fred joked. Even though Jamie's head was facing forward, Fred knew she was glaring at him hard. Her hair was soft and slipped through his hair like butter.

Jamie's elbow dug into his thigh, hard, "You Immature, Impossible Ingrown-Toenail!"

Fred laughed hard, releasing Jamie's hair and wrapping her tighter against his chest. His deep laughter surrounded Jamie, "That's it! That's the best one. I really didn't think you could top Terrorizing Tadpole Scum from last week, but you did it!" His nose nuzzled into the side of her face, smelling the vanilla that always surrounded her, "One of the many things I like about you, Jamison."