The Tale of Jamie Devereaux

The Sweet Smell of Pureblood Supremacy

Chapter Nineteen: The Sweet Smell of Pureblood Supremacy

Jamie Devereaux sat in the empty Transfiguration classroom with her favorite Professor, as they had done so many times before. It was the beginning of October, the first month of school had flown by quickly. Jamie had had few emotional outbursts, all of which were due to Fred Weasley and his angry responses to the blonde's presence. Often, Jamie found herself wanting to punch a wall after one of their exchanges. The crush that Cedric had assured her would eventually fade was doing no such thing. The Bruce girl would fantasize about a different life where she and Fred could be together. She was just a muggleborn witch with a normal parental background and Fred Weasley didn't just think she was a pretty face—and actually liked her. Overall, she was miserable.

Professor McGonagall studied Jamie patiently, "Have there been any strange things you have experienced at all, Jamie? Dumbledore wants to hear anything, no matter how small it may appear to you. We can't be sure exactly what information is important when it comes to you."

"Right, because I'm a dangerous ticking time bomb?" Jamie asked. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes with a sigh. Jamie thought about her question and decided to tell McGonagall everything, "I keep getting headaches whenever I'm around Professor Moody. I think it might have to do with his magical eye, but it makes DADA classes positively miserable."

"I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore about that, maybe he can look into it."

"If he does, see if he can find more than just sixty pages about the male Veelas. It's starting to become bothersome to rely on just one source of information to tell me everything about myself." Jamie grumbled, sulkily. The young witch took a sip of the tea that was in front of her and, with her heart racing, asked McGonagall a question she had been dying to ask her since last term. "Do you think I'll ever be able to be in a relationship with—with anyone?"

Minerva looked at her with wide eyes of concern, "Jamie, I only told you that right now it would be a bad idea. I do not know what is going on with you and Fred, but I think the two of you are suffering from severe lack of communication. Did you tell him you liked him?"

Jamie's head jolted up in shock, "Of course not! If I did that then I'd have to tell him I couldn't be with him."

"What's wrong with that?" McGonagall asked. "You are children. Surely if he really liked you he could wait, knowing you had feelings for him, before you started dating."

"I can't expect him to wait around—this entire conversation is pointless. He doesn't like me."

The thin eyebrow of the deputy headmistress quirked upward, "I don't believe that for even a moment."

The little Bruce glared. "He told me he didn't like me."

Minerva McGonagall wanted to tell Jamie that there was a possibility that Fred Weasley was in love with her, and that's why he could lie. But somehow, telling Jamie this felt like it was taking it away from the blonde and Fred. Professor McGonagall wanted to be there when Jamie Devereaux came floating into her Transfiguration classroom, telling her that Fred Weasley had finally confessed his feelings for her. Hopefully, by then, Jamie would know a bit more about Devereaux and would be better at controlling her emotions where a relationship wouldn't do more harm than good. With the rate the pair was going, however, Minerva was worried that it would be years until Jamie stopped being so stubborn and Fred stopped being a fool.

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Fred Weasley and George Weasley were in the back of the potions classroom. Snape was passing around a potion for everyone to take a look at before he expected them to recreate it. Fred and George were plotting the creation of their aging potion when Snape made his way to their desk. Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. Fred rolled his eyes when he smelled it, not at all phased when vanilla, flowers, and fresh baked brownies hit his nose. He hadn't needed Snape to bring it over toward him and his twin for the Weasley to know that the only thing he would smell would be the little blonde witch three people away from him.