Chapter Twenty-Three: Are Mum and Dad Fighting Again?
In the Gryffindor common room sat a dangerous trio of witches that would elicit a bit of fear in anyone with enough common sense. Though none were in the same year, the three girls had come to find amongst one another good friends. Or, at least, a certified budding friendship. One was blonde, one was brunette, one was a red head and none of them were very talented when it came to knitting. What they lacked in talent, two of the witches made up for in sheer determination to succeed. Jamie Devereaux Bruce and Hermione Granger were watching as Ginevra Weasley tried to recreate stiches Molly Weasley had attempted to teach her for multiple years.
Proudly next to her Prefect badge sat a S.P.E.W. badge on Jamie's chest. While Ginny didn't necessarily believe that House-Elves wanted saving via two muggleborn Gryffindor's, she enjoyed the company of the older girls far more than she wanted to argue with them. "Right, so. You just loop this around here-" Ginny said, bringing a bright blue colored string around her needle, "and then you tie it off, and voila!" The third-year girl held out a very lop-sided looking thick piece of fabric that was intended to be a hat but instead looked like a very strange vest, somehow.
Jamie looked at it and tried to compose her laugher, "Excellent try, Ginny." The blonde looked down at her own needles with a wince. "At this rate we might be able to free one House-Elf by the time you graduate, Hermione."
Two identical heads of red hair appeared on either side of Jamie Devereaux and looked down at her work, "Blimey. Mum would be horrified if she saw that, Gin." George Weasley said to his only sister. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him in annoyance.
"I see you haven't given up on the House-Elves liberation?" Fred asked, his face far too close to Jamie's for the blonde's comfort.
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, her back straight, "I see you decided to forgo my warning not to touch me."
Fred's finger came close to Jamie's shoulder, but didn't actually touch the little witch, "I'm not touching youuuu." He said in a sing-song voice. Jamie's eyes narrowed on his strong hand that was so close to her and made heat reverberate through her body.
"Put that finger any closer and I swear I will bite it off." Jamie warned
"Dirty!" Fred chided.
"That's it!" Jamie cried, standing up off the couch—her knitting falling onto the floor of the common room. She spun around to face the twins, "Let's go, Weasley. Muggle style, I will slap that stupid grin off of your face."
"Five Sickles on Jamie." Ginny said to George.
"That's not fair, of course she's going to win." George whined, looking at the scene before him. Jamie was now standing on the couch to be an inch or two taller than Fred Weasley, who typically towered over the little witch.
"Careful there, Bruce. Being this high off the ground may be an adjustment for you." Fred joked.
Jamie's hands were on her hips, "Is that why you're such a prat? The air up here is too thin to bring oxygen to your brain." Being eye-level with the red-head was a change. She saw more of his face than she usually did. He looked older, his jaw was strong and the blonde found his Adam's apple almost concerningly attractive.
The red-head clutched his hand over his heart in a faked pain, "Oh don't pretend you aren't attracted to me because of my height."
"Me!? Attracted to you!?" Jamie asked, her cheeks heated and red.
"Are Mum and Dad fighting again?" Angelina asked, joining George and Ginny as they watched the pair of them. George laughed and nodded, earning a glare from Jamie Devereaux.
"I am not Mum! He is certainly not Dad!" Jamie said, shrilly.
"I don't know, Jamie, you're starting to sound like my mum." Ginny stated.
Fred's smile was contagious to everyone in the room but Jamie, "Now children." He said, in his deepest, most fatherly voice, "Stop harassing your mother she has had a long day looking after you little gremlins. Daddy and her are going to have some alone time—"
Jamie didn't let him finish the crude sentence. She lunged over the couch, tackling Fred to the ground of the common room floor. "You Slimy…You Skeevy…You Perverted…" Jamie was saying, in between slaps of his broad chest that she was now on top of. The laughter that rang through the Gryffindor common room was loud and boisterous, bringing attention to the duo that was Jamie and Fred. The air seemed lighter by them being together. Anyone who looked on would notice that the slaps were hard, but not brutal. They would also see that Fred Weasley's large hands were holding Jamie Devereaux's hips as she sat on top of him. He was perfectly able to stop her assault, but was enjoying himself far too much to do so.
The blonde was breathing heavily in exertion after a minute of hitting the red-head below her. She finally was able to register the warmth of his hands on her hips and she practically shot to her feet and leapt away from him. She pointed a finger at him, accusingly, "You are a monster sent from Hell."
Fred was still splayed on the floor, perched on his elbows and looking up at the love of his life with a crooked smile on his face, "Darn, who told you? I'm supposed to be undercover."
"Our secret is blown!" George cried in fake anguish.
"What will The Devil say?" Fred asked, getting to his feet annoyingly fast for someone Jamie had just spent an entire minute trying to fatally injure.
George shrugged, his elbow resting on Angelina's shoulder, "Probably award us for sixteen-years of solid mischief and debauchery."
"Mum would argue it all started in the womb." Ginny chimed in.
Jamie groaned loudly in disbelief, "Weasleys!" She simply declared, before storming up to her dorm in anger.
"Mummy!" Ginny called after her, "Please tell me you and Daddy aren't getting a divorce!" There was an even louder scream from the girls dormitory above them that made the group crack a smile. Only Hermione Granger looked somewhat unamused.
The curly-haired fourth-year gave a disapproving look to Fred Weasley, "You shouldn't rile her up so much."
Fred sighed, "But she looks so cute when she's angry."
Angelina Johnston sat on Jamie Devereaux's bed after the scene that had been created in the Gryffindor Common Room. The little blonde was lying on her stomach with her head buried in her pillow. Jamie had thought she would be able to joke around with Fred like old times. But her hips still seared from where the red-head had touched her, and her heart was still racing from excitement at being flirted with. For a moment, she had even imagined if that would be what their life would be like with children. Him teasing her and saying inappropriate things that would fly over young kids heads. Jamie buried her face even deeper into the pillow, knowing that that would be exactly the life Fred would create with whoever he chose to marry.
"James." Angelina said from beside her, "Are you going to pout or are you going to talk to me?"
"Why can't I do both?" Jamie asked, her voice muffled from the pillow.
Angelina sighed, "The two of you are such a bloody disaster. You like him, he likes you, why can't you just balls up and tell him."
Jamie's head shot around to look at her best friend indignantly, "He doesn't like me, Angelina. How many times do I have to tell you that."
"He just called you cute when you stormed off and he had a shit-eating grin on his face the entire time you were attacking him. The boy likes you bad."
Jamie groaned, "It doesn't matter. I can't date anyone anyway."
"Will you ever tell me why that is?" Angelina prompted.
Jamie had considered telling Angelina quite a lot, but having already confided in two people a secret she was told to tell no one, Jamie decided against it. "He snogged Mallory."
"I said he liked you, not that he wasn't a complete idiotic prat. Not my fault the man of your dreams is a bloody imbecile." Angelina said with a challenging eyebrow, as if daring her little friend to deny that she liked Fred Weasley.
The blonde had given up denying that fact out loud. It was now a painful truth of her life. She liked the bleeding prat, despite everything he said and did. She wanted to date him and joke around with him forever. If she could date Fred, it would never be boring. There would always be a joke on the tip of his tongue and he had a fun family, great friends, and nice hands.
That night, Jamie Devereaux was restless. She once again grabbed a package of brownies and made her way silently down into the Gryffindor common room. The blonde was not alone.
In a chair by the fire place sat Fred Weasley. His head was bent over a piece of parchment and for a rare occasion he was without George. The quiet steps of Jamie caught his attention immediately and Fred looked up. His breath caught in his throat. She was wearing muggle pajama shorts that had little witch hats on them, as well as a t-shirt that said Bewitched on it in big, black letters. Her hair was wild and undone and made Fred want to run his fingers through it. "Evening, wife." Fred said, the joke falling out of his mouth and sounding so natural to him.
Jamie's eyes narrowed at the comment, but didn't leave the common area.
"Couldn't sleep?" He asked, watching her every move as she sat with her feet under her on the common room couch. Her hands held a container filled with chocolate brownies with slim fingers. Jamie nodded in response, opening the container and taking out a brownie. She considered offering the red-head one, but decided against it. "Too busy contemplating what best way to murder me?" The Weasley boy asked, continuing to fill the common room with his voice. Jamie pursed her lips and looked up at him. He was wearing one of his mother's sweaters and there was a huge "F" across it in blue. It looked soft and worn and very well made, much to Jamie's envy. It looked so warm and reminded Jamie that she was actually quite chilly in her shirt and shorts. The little blonde shivered a bit and took a larger bite of brownie. Fred Weasley pouted, "Don't tell me you are giving me the silent treatment, Bruce? Haven't I already apologized to you?"
Jamie scoffed, "I would hardly call that an apology, Weasley."
"Imagined me on my knees, did you?"
The blonde's mouth opened, "Stop with the innuendos!"
Fred Weasley laughed, loud. "That wasn't an innuendo! Look who's mind is going to dark placed now." He watched Jamie curl closer into herself from the chill of the common room. Despite the fact that Fred was currently sitting on a blanket that he could have easily given her, he offered something else. "Want my sweater?"
Her eyes narrowed at Fred, "And then have it cover me in boils? No thank you."
"So untrusting, you hurt my feelings." He teased.
"People have been turning into Canaries left and right thanks to you and George."
Fred smirked, "But you would be the prettiest Canary of them all, Bruce."
"We aren't friends." Jamie declared, stopping the light-hearted attitude that Fred had been trying to create immediately.
Fred nodded, "I know. I know you hate me." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair he sat on, as if hoping she would deny that fact. When she didn't, the red-head pressed on. "I miss our war. It was fun."
"Too bad you ruined it with your Pureblood supremacy and—" and snogging Mallory Norden Jamie had almost said, but had thankfully stopped herself. Fred sensed it, though. He knew he should apologize for kissing her roommate. But, he wanted to hear from Jamie that it had bothered her before apologizing. Because, without that reassurance that she had minded him kissing another girl, then Fred couldn't be sure if an apology would just prove to embarrass himself more.
The red-head's smile was pained, "No my pureblood supremacy wasn't it. I think it was the fever fudge poisoning you." Fred watched as another chill passed over the little blonde. He sighed and easily pulled his sweater off from over his head, "Take my sweater. Stop being so damn stubborn."
Jamie crossed her arms, "I am not stubborn."
"You are the definition of stubborn."
"You're the definition of a prat!" Jamie fired back, glaring at him.
"Take my sweater or I swear, Jamie, I will come over there and put it on you myself." A part of Fred wanted her to deny the sweater again so he could do just that. Instead, Jamie angrily grabbed the article of clothing knitted by Molly Weasley and pulled it over her head. It complimented her hair perfectly and made a genuine smile appear on Fred's face. "You don't have to constantly be on the defense with me, you know." The little witch was swallowed by the large sweater and she sighed. She didn't know what to say so instead she offered a brownie to the red-head silently. His large hand grasped the chocolaty sweet and the two of them ate Loren Bruce's brownies for the next ten minutes without saying anything. Fred's smell surrounded Jamie and she burrowed herself deeper into the warmth of his sweater. "Your mum should bake professionally." Fred said, quietly.
Jamie nodded, "She sells brownies and cookies in Loren&James along with all the clothes. So you can shop and eat." The blonde nodded toward the piece of parchment discarded on the table between them, "What's that?"
"An order form. For more stuff for George and my products."
A genuine smile came across Jamie's face, "You two are good at making joke products. It's impressive."
"Was that a complement? I'm blushing, Bruce." Fred said, his chest filling with pride.
Jamie rolled her eyes, "Settle down, Fred, I am just being honest."
"Still nice to hear." Fred said, smiling. As a middle child, a twin, and one of the many Weasley children, Fred was often not praised. He wasn't a prefect, he didn't care about school, and he was only awarded attention when he was in trouble. In that moment, seeing Jamie smile at him with those little dimples, his sweater way too big on her slight frame, and her hair a little staticky from putting it on—Fred had never felt so content. He wanted to reach over and pull her onto his lap and kiss her full lips that would taste like brownies. The red-head swallowed and cleared his throat, "I should go."
When the Gryffindor boy stood up to go to bed, Jamie moved to take off his sweater but Fred stopped her, "Keep it. My mum has made me loads." She looked up at him, Fred's eyes were studying her face.
Jamie didn't know how she could feel so many emotions for one person. She wanted to tell him to stay and keep her company. She wanted him to call her Jamison. She wanted to spend every night eating brownies in his sweater and just enjoying his company. Most importantly, she wanted to apologize to him for always attacking him no matter how little he deserved it in the moment. All she said though was a quiet "thank you."
When Jamie went back to bed, she raised half of Fred's sweater to cover her nose and mouth so that she was completely surrounded in his scent. It was such a strange thing to do, but Jamie fell asleep almost instantly with campfire smoke and cinnamon embracing her.