Chapter Thirty-One: It's Called Foreplay, Ronikins
April first was a day feared by most Hogwarts students. It was, rather fittingly, the day that the two Weasley twins were born. Everyone was on edge in preparation for what the pair of them might do. No one was safe. Especially those closest to them.
Angelina Johnston woke up in the Gryffindor sixth-year girls dorm-room and immediately was on alert. She feared what George Weasley would have cooked up, considering in February he had told her he had something 'wicked' planned for his seventeenth birthday. The fact that the two twins would now be legally allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts did not bode well for poor Molly Weasley. Angelina turned on her side and looked to the bed next to her, seeing silver hair splayed about on the pillow. Jamie Devereaux Bruce was knocked out and not even heavy breathing could be heard from her bed. She was sleeping like the dead. The Quidditch chaser got up and walked over to the edge of Jamie's bed, poking her in the arm lightly. When the blonde witch didn't stir, Angelina poked her again. And again. And again. Finally, she said, "James!"
Jamie Devereaux shot up in panic. Turning her head around the room, she saw her best friend standing over her, confused. Jamie swallowed, wetting her dry mouth, and grimaced at the fact that she had sat up so quickly. The blonde moved her legs to hang off her bed before gradually standing up, "Morning to you too, Ang." She said dryly, before moving to her trunk.
The pair of Gryffindor's walked down to the Great Hall together, as they had been doing every year since they first got to Hogwarts. Angelina gave Jamie a sidelong glance as they walked and furrowed her brows, "You're not wearing a uniform shirt."
Jamie's dimples popped, "No I am not!" The little witch said all too cheerily. She opened her robe a bit wider to reveal the letters S.P.E.W. were across the shirt she was wearing. It was in small lettering on the right side of her t-shirt, but it made a statement. It was also painfully muggle which added to the effect. Jamie hoped that Fred would be particularly annoyed or teasing if he saw her in it. It was a rather childish wish of hers, but completely valid for a sixteen year old girl to want her crush to pay attention to her in any way possible.
Angelina's mouth opened in shock, "When did Loren send you that?"
"With the last batch of brownies and another strongly worded letter about how I should stop taking myself so seriously." Jamie responded, a bit more of a skip in her step. The letter also included a long-winded argument being pro-Fred Weasley, which was a shock. Loren Bruce, in every sense of the word, shipped Jamie and Fred together. She wanted the pair of Gryffindor's to be happy. However, she also wanted her daughter to remember how young she was. Loren had reminded Jamie that it was perfect this break she was creating for herself and the Weasley boy because she needed to grow as a male-Veela and discover herself. There was also a paragraph about how Loren, as a thirty-seven year old woman, was still discovering herself and accepting herself for who she was. And if Jamie wanted to make Fred wait for ten years, then she had the right to do that.
That was all great advice, but Jamie was a teenager and she wanted to be with Fred today. Her sheer will-power alone, and fear from what happened to Hagrid, was stopping her from saying to-hell-with-it-all and snogging Fred in front of all of Hogwarts—McGonagall included.
"Loren is always right." Angelina said.
Jamie nodded, seriously, "Oh I know. But she's my mum and I wouldn't be a good daughter if I didn't rebel a little bit."
When they walked into the Great Hall it was evident that something heavy was in the air. First years double-checked before they sat down in their chair. Second years casually tried to make their friends taste test their food before eating. Ron Weasley looked positively green in the face. Ginny Weasley was sitting on the edge of her seat, looking eagerly around. The youngest Weasley knew her twin brothers would not be dumb enough to prank her, but that everyone else was fair game. The birthday boys were nowhere to be found.
Jamie Devereaux sat across from Ginny and smiled at the young third year, "I reckon we are the only two people that aren't fearing for their life this morning, aren't we?"
Ginny looked at her surprised, "I'd think you would be especially scared about what Fred would do to you."
Jamie lifted on shoulder in a shrug while spooning some yogurt into her mouth, "I think Fred might be a tad preoccupied with what my birthday present to him was."
The blonde witch had spent a good amount of time with the twins. Long enough to hear the two of them tease one another. One particular moment she had remembered was when George had made fun of Fred for always laying out his pajamas after making his bed in the morning. Fred had stated it was because he liked to look forward to sleeping, but it had given Jamie the perfect idea. When Fred Weasley woke up that morning of his seventeenth birthday, his entire chest, neck, arms, and legs were bright blue. She had considered a different color, but blue just seemed right in the moment. Jamie knew that the most anyone would see would be a peek of blue under his sleeves or on his neck, but she would have paid good money to see his absolute shock that morning when he had woken up.
Instead of being pissed or annoyed, Fred Weasley sauntered over to where Jamie sat with a wide, lopsided grin on his face. George sat next to Ginny and Ron, the latter of which scooted farther away from his brother, practically into Harry Potter's lap. Fred flung his long arm over Jamie's shoulders, bringing his lips close to her ear, "Was your present a way of being able to ask to see me without my shirt on later?"
Jamie elbowed him hard in the side, knocking his arm off of her shoulders, "No you Perverted Sleaze-ball."
Fred laughed at her and his eyes darted down to Jamie's shirt, "And a SPEW shirt, wow, Jamison if you wanted my attention so badly you could have just asked."
Heat hit her cheeks, "It's S.P.E.W. Not spew. This is me supporting what I believe in. It just so happens that I wore it on your birthday." Jamie was pleased, though. Happy that he saw her shirt and happy that he knew immediately it was her who dyed his body blue. That potion hadn't been easy to find either. She had made Cedric look in the library with her three days ago for at least an hour. The Hufflepuff hadn't been too amused with her, but he also had recognized that Jamie Devereaux Bruce could no longer be alone. Cedric had hoped it would be a fear that dissipated after a month, but since it was still with Jamie the Diggory boy was determined to be there for his best friend whenever she needed him. Even if it was just as a silent presence to keep her company as she scavenged the library so that the boy she liked would pay even more attention to her than he already did.
As Jamie and Fred ate next to each other, George Weasley watched as the two of them pushed each other's elbows. At first it was a playful nudge. But soon it transformed to neither of them being able to eat because they were both putting so much pressure on the person next to them. Little Jamie Devereaux was practically slanted on her side, struggling to press all of her weight on Fred.
Every time Jamie tried to take a bite, Fred would steal the piece of food she was about to grab with his own fork. Watching them was amusing. They were like two twelve year olds with no idea how to showcase affection, despite one of them being legally of age as of that morning. Both Gryffindor's had wide smiles on their faces and would shoot playful glares at one another whenever their eyes met. Mumbled "Damnit, Jamison" and "Shove off, Fredward" could be heard from either one of them as they existed in their own little world.
Ginny whispered to her brother George in that moment, "She knows his name is actually Fredrick, right?"
George nodded, "She does, it's a weird nickname thing they do. Her first name is James but he calls her Jamison." Ginny gave him a look and George just shrugged, "I don't think even they understand."
Fred tugged on a piece of Jamie's hair that was flowing freely and Jamie stuck her tongue out at him in annoyance. Ron Weasley watched Jamie and Fred, confused. "Why aren't the two of you dating already? What's the point of this?" He gestured between the two of them, with long sweeping motion of his hand, as if in exasperation.
"It's called foreplay, Ronikins." Fred stated, causing George and Angelina to snort and Jamie to gasp indignantly, whipping her head in Fred's direction.
The blonde's eyes were narrowed as she looked at one of the birthday boys, "What did you just say?"
Fred's smile widened and he looked Jamie dead in her eyes, prepared to say it again. But the dangerous look in the blonde's sharpened face made him swallow nervously. His eyes darted to Angelina, "I should run now, shouldn't I?" Angelina merely nodded before Fred Weasley jumped to his feet, running from the Great Hall. His too short of robes showcasing a hint of blue as he sprinted through Sir Nicolas to get away from the blonde that was hot on his heels.
Minerva McGonagall and Jamie Devereaux Bruce sat together in the Transfiguration Professor's office for what felt like the four-hundredth time. They had gone through the motions of Jamie asking a question with influence and without influence. Each time she had either spoken from the front or the back of her throat to get her desired results. While it was going well, she didn't feel comfortable just yet. Jamie knew there were more things that she needed to figure out about what exactly she could do. The Vanishing of Veela Men had hinted at being able to persuade people, like the imperious curse. While Jamie wanted to test it, she feared knowing more.
It was moments like these she missed the times she thought her biggest problem would be boys only liking her because she was pretty. It had been more than a year since she and Kenneth Towler had broken up because of that—which she now realized had been him being forced to answer honestly. Fleur Delacour and her had spoken about that moment Jamie had feared that boys would only like her for her appearance. She remembered that the French girl who she considered a close confidant had responded with the fact that it would always be a drawback and a benefit.
The half-male Veela was still worried, however, that even if Fred Weasley were to one day fall in love with her it would be under the guise of manipulation. What if Jamie was just a very good liar or a very unlovable human being if not for what she forced others to believe. If the blonde witch found out that her powers or gifts or whatever Dumbledore wanted to call them extended past an innocent 'No liars may enter,' she would self-combust. Jamie Devereaux was already being held together solely by tape and small, sweet moments she had with Fred.
"Just try it out, Jamie." Professor McGonagall urged her, bringing Jamie back into the present from her constantly wandering mind.
"Simeon said that the male Veelas could not alter peoples actions, only their emotions or temporarily their opinion."
The professor pursed her lips tightly, "The very fact that you can alter people's emotions means that, possibly, with enough emotion in your voice, you could make someone do something they don't necessarily want to do." She took in the fear that was in Jamie's face and sighed lightly, "It would just be better for us to know if anything happens or not."
Jamie looked at her teacher, uncertainly, "But what if it does work? What does that mean for me?"
Minerva McGonagall wanted to tell her that it meant nothing good. If Jamie Devereaux had the ability to control people's actions with just her voice, there would be people from all over after her. That she might not be safe ever again. "We will discuss it if it does work." Was all the Professor responded.
The blonde's eyes narrowed and she took a deep breath, focusing on Minerva McGonagall and speaking from the back of her throat, "Pick up your cup." Was the first command she thought to say. When nothing happened, Jamie felt her shoulders relax.
Professor McGonagall, however, furrowed her brows in confusion. While she didn't actually do anything, there was a spasm in her hand. Her fingers had twitched as if willing themselves to move but without doing anything. Minerva was old and often had moments of hand spasms, but the timing could not have been a coincidence. "Try again." The Transfiguration's professor pressed.
Jamie sighed and said it again. When nothing happened, the older witch also relaxed a bit for her student, "Well, there might be nothing to worry about. You could just not be emotional enough at the moment, but I think this is a good sign."
There was a quick knock on the door and Fleur Delacour was there to go on a brief walk with Jamie around the grounds as they often did in order to talk together. Because Fleur was older and a Beauxbaton student, Jamie did not get to see her too often. The Gryffindor said goodbye to her professor before slinging her bag over her shoulder and leaving the Transfiguration office with her French friend. The two silver-haired witches walked and avoided talking about anything Veela related as they passed Hogwarts students through the hallways. The two spoke about their families and how Jamie missed Loren and Fleur missed Gabrielle, despite having been able to see her in February.
When they finally walked outside of the castle and into the grounds, there was a moment as they looked around to see if there was anyone in earshot. When there wasn't Fleur turned to her friend, "Private Persuasion Lessons are good?"
Jamie smiled at the silly name she had given them and shrugged, "I'm doing everything right but it still feels like something is wrong. I just know I'm missing something but I don't know what."
"You may just be…" she paused thinking of the word. Jamie assisted, "paranoid?" "Yes, you may just be paranoid."
"Maybe." Jamie fiddled with the scarf that hung loosely on around her neck. Despite the fact that it was mid-April, there was still a bit of a chill in the air. "Or maybe I should listen to my gut and try and figure out what it is I'm missing."
"Another book?" Fleur suggested.
The Hogwarts girl groaned, "Another book that gives me a half-ass two pieces of a nine billion piece puzzle? Yes that will totally lower my anxiety. I hope it includes another blatant prophecy that literally names me by name. My name is literally Devereaux. I don't know if that means that the Centaurs are just super good at their job or my entire life has already been lived and anything I do is not within my free will." She spoke quickly and thick with sarcasm. Jamie looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Fleur trying to decipher what she had said and the little witch sighed, trying to cool her temper and un-sharpen her features. "I hope if I were to get another book it would be the last one I need."
"You could ask a full Veela." Fleur offered as they hiked up the hill back to the castle after their familiar walking loop had been completed.
Jamie's steps faltered a bit as she considered this, "Don't they hate male-Veelas though?"
"But you look like a female Veela. And you are female. Maybe they would not know what you are and tell you what you want." Fleur said. As they entered Hogwarts they knew to drop the subject immediately, but the possibilities of Jamie just needing to speak to a full Veela ran wildly through her head. Alicia Spinet walked by the pair in that moment and Jamie broke off from the Beauxbatons girl in order to walk back to the Gryffindor common room alongside her friend.
It was the day of the Apparition test for all students that were seventeen and had completed the lessons as of late April. This meant all of Jamie Devereaux's Gryffindor friends, except for her, had taken their test that afternoon. Jamie and Hermione Granger sat together, knitting on the couch for the House-Elves of Hogwarts. Well, Jamie Devereaux was actually knitting a much larger scarf for a certain half-giant that had looked rather cold during Care of Magical Creatures last week. She hadn't been sure just how large she should make it so she decided to double the length and width she would have made for a regular sized person. Her knitting skills had vastly improved, although there were a few bumps in her pattern and she had had to unravel some loose knits once or twice.
There was loud laughter and whooping from outside the Fat Lady portrait and Jamie rolled her eyes toward Hermione, "I'm guessing Fred and George passed and are rubbing it in for everyone who didn't."
Hermione's brows rose, "A lot of people don't pass on the first attempt."
"Not Fred and George. They'll pass." Jamie said certainly, turning her attention toward the common room entrance and watching as two tall red-headed figures sauntered into the Gryffindor room with wide lopsided smiles on their face. Fred Weasley immediately collapsed onto the seat next to Jamie, tugging her hair so she had to turn her head in his direction, "Guess what?"
"You failed your apparition test?"
Fred gasped and threw his hand over his heart, "You wound me woman. Georgie and I passed with flying colors."
"Prove it." Jamie teased.
"You can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds." Hermione said from beside her and Jamie's shoulders sagged in disappointment, remembering that she too had been told that during her own apparition lessons.
Fred's knee tapped her own, "I am in a particularly good mood, Devereaux." He said, conversationally. Jamie looked at him with suspicion. This did not bode well for her. The blonde witch scooted an inch away from the boy who's smile somehow got even wider. His hand touched the back of her neck, creating tingles down her back. But suddenly the tingles transformed into pinching. Pinching all over her body. And not from Fred Weasley's hands, but from a powder he had poured down her shirt.
Jamie gasped and jumped up, almost flinging herself over the common room table. Her whole body squirmed uncomfortably as she reached for her wand that was tucked into her robes. Despite the fact that her body was shaking, she was still capable of aiming a hex she had intended to try on Fred Weasley a year ago.
When Angelina Johnston walked into the common room, a wide smile on her face at the fact that she, too had passed her test, she stopped dead in her tracks. Jamie Devereaux was practically on the floor giggling and squirming in pain as Fred Weasley, who's freckles had been replaces with raised brown warts—causing him to be practically unrecognizable if not for his hair and distinct height—was laughing at the blonde witch. George came up beside Angelina and sighed, "If they ever do date, I think they might just kill each other."