Chapter Thirty-Four: Now Move Your Shacklebutt
Kingsley Shacklebolt was a very important wizard. He was a high position Auror and he took his job seriously. It was this fact that made him wonder why, for his very first instructions from Albus Dumbledore in the Order, that he agreed to go collect a muggle woman of all people. Jamie Devereaux Bruce was an essential player in the war, as Kingsley knew, but her muggle mother was not. Still, he found himself outside of a small boutique named Loren&James. It had a coat of white paint and light blue and green accents on the sides. It stood out against the surrounding, considerably grey, shops. The 'Open' sign was handwritten in bubbly letters. In the window there was hangings of shirts, hats, and pants—all which were embroidered or detailed in a way that made them unique. A purse shaped like an owl caught the Auror's eye. It was bedazzled and bright, but rather small. Kingsley couldn't, for the life of him, understand the practicality of such a bag.
He sighed deeply and adjusted the tie of his muggle suit he had worn to blend in better in the town. Stepping through the shop door he was greeted with a bright chime and an incredible scent. It smelled like freshly baked chocolate sweets, like a house on Christmas or a birthday. Kingsley looked around the inside of the shop and saw more unique looking items of clothing and too many puns to count. On a table beside him there was a collection of fans that, when he opened them, said 'Tastic' across it. He heard himself give an exhale of a laugh at the pun. There were also pairs of jeans which boasted details of flowers along the pockets. It looked hand-done and very intricate. From the back of the store a high-pitch voice called out to him, "One second!"
Kingsley walked toward the voice, seeing a pile of chocolate sweets on another table and fighting back his urge to eat all of them. There was a clang as something metal hit the ground and a short woman with dark curls practically skipped into the main room of the shop. "Hi there!" Loren Bruce greeted him, with her deep dimples decorating either cheek and her eyes sparkling. The Auror stared at her for a moment. Her upturned nose was marked with something orange which he assumed to be paint. Her eyes appeared green thanks to the afternoon golden light that shown through the side window. Her apron was messy and askew, but she looked like the epitome of happiness. If goodness were a person, it would be Loren Bruce.
Kingsley Shacklebolt cleared his throat, "Hello, you're Loren Bruce?" He asked, he was quite certain it had to be, although a small part of him hoped she was not.
"Yep! Will you hold this for a second?" Loren asked, handing the tall, dark man a stack of purple cups that said 'One Sip, Two Sip, Three Sip, Floor.' The short, muggle woman walked passed him and then pointed toward a tall shelf with many different cups boasting several sayings—all which somewhat encouraged alcoholism. "Can you just put those up on the top, I seem to have misplaced my step ladder?" She asked sweetly. Loren had not misplaced the ladder. She knew it was underneath the front desk, directly under the cash register. But when the stranger had to reach up and flex his impressive body in order to put the cups at the top shelf, the Bruce woman couldn't help the satisfied smirk that settled on her full mouth.
The wizard felt her eyes on him and cleared his throat, uncomfortably, "My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, I'm here to bring you to your daughter."
"Okay!" Loren said, smiling. "Where we going?"
The Auror balked, "Okay?" He asked in a disbelieving voice, "I'm a stranger and you're just going to go with me without questioning anything?"
Loren blinked at him, "Yes. I mean you're name is Kingsley Shacklebutt either you're horrible at lying or you're a wizard."
"Shacklebolt." Kingsley said through his teeth.
"Oh, like that's better." Loren said, rolling her eyes. "Where is my daughter?"
His mouth opened in disbelief, "She's with McGonagall and the Weasleys." Kingsley's voice was curt and no-nonsense. He was trying to maintain his professional outward appearance. The Auror refused to allow a woman, who barely reached his shoulder, break him.
Loren nodded, "I need to grab some stuff from my house but then I'm guessing we are taking your broom? Or flying car?"
"Your daughter gave me a letter to assist in convincing you that I meant you know harm." He stressed each word, trying to bring reason into the overly trusting and far too pretty muggle.
Finally, Loren Bruce reacted how someone would when a stranger spoke to them. Her posture stiffened and her eyes narrowed slightly. When Kingsley handed her a letter she looked at it like it was about to explode or poison her. Loren took it cautiously, and only when she opened it did her shoulders relax, "Oh thank god, I thought I was actually in danger for a second there." The muggle woman smiled again.
Kingsley's brows furrowed, "What did she put in the letter?" Loren flipped over the parchment to reveal nothing was written. The wizard scoffed indignantly, "I told that girl to put a code word or an anecdote that only the two of you would understand!"
Loren laughed, "My daughter knew I would go without asking for a letter or a code word."
"Why do you sound proud of this? I could be a murderer." He tried to reason with her.
"Sure you could." Loren placated, "Now move your Shacklebutt." Loren said, ushering his tall body out of her way with a quick shooing motion of her hands.
Kingsley allowed the woman to usher him out of her store and in the direction of her small home. "So why isn't my daughter taking the train? Does it have something to do with the Tournament?" Loren asked him as she opened her house with a brightly colored key that boasted a rather fluffy ornament connected to it.
The Auror shifted uncomfortably as he stood at the entryway of the vanilla smelling home. He didn't feel like he was the right person to break the news of the Diggory boy's death. Or how Jamie's reaction to it created a large stir from the ministry about the possibilities of an unregistered half-breed. Currently, they were all just rumors. Some people were arguing that Jamie had just done an extremely impactful and powerful charm in the moment. However, the amount of people that saw her, without her wand, control hundreds of people was a definite complication. Dumbledore was not pleased, and Jamie Devereaux was practically non-responsive to anyone who tried to speak to her. Loren noted the tall wizard's silence and stilled, "What happened? Is Jamie okay?"
"Jamie is perfectly safe. Cedric Diggory was killed in the tournament—"
Loren Bruce's mouth opened in shock, but no sound came out. In an instant, she was a flurry of motion as she tore through her home packing all the essentials and anything that her daughter would need. The muggle woman's mind was reeling but all she could really think of was the fact that Jamie severely needed her. Loren went into Jamie's room and grabbed comfort items before heading to the kitchen and grabbing food that she knew her daughter would need.
Kingsley watched the muggle shuffle through kitchen appliances, "there will be food there."
"Jamie told me all about wizard food. She's going to need muggle food." Loren said, focused on grabbing the most processed and cheesiest or chocolatiest foods and sweets she could find. The Bruce woman shoved two bags into Kingsley's unsuspecting arms and made an impatient motion with one hand on her hip, "Let's go!"
Fred Weasley stood in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place watching his silver haired witch. Jamie Devereaux Bruce sat at the table with a blanket around her and her gaze unfocused. Her green eyes were rimmed with red and her hair seemed limp, her usual flowing waves motionless. It had been three days since Cedric's death and Jamie had done little more than sit and sleep for too long. Not a single Weasley had pried McGonagall or Jamie about what had happened that night, though they were all confused as to how Jamie had made everyone fall into themselves, clutching their ears. Everyone except for Fred that is who, despite being able to move, had stayed where he was in shock at what he was seeing. Finally, it had all clicked in his mind. Why Jamie always seemed to be more than just a witch and why she needed him to wait before they could be together. Molly Weasley was also in the kitchen and had been bustling around trying to get Jamie Devereaux to drink tea or water. The only person that could get the little blonde to take a bit of care of herself was Fred. In all honesty, Molly was in shock at seeing the way her middle child acted toward the witch. Her heart went out to Jamie and it was through her and Minerva's insistence that Loren Bruce was allowed to come to the wizard safe house, where no muggle had ever stepped through before. The Weasley woman knew that it was in this moment only a mother could help comfort Jamie.
The kitchen door opened and a short, dark woman walked in followed by a flustered Kingsley Shacklebolt who balanced three bags in his arms. Loren Bruce immediately rushed to her daughter's side, pulling her tightly into an embrace. Jamie's head fell to her mother's shoulder as they clung to one another without speaking. Loren stroked her daughter's hair and whispered soothing words for a moment before breaking away, "Are you hungry?" Loren asked. Jamie nodded silently and Loren got up to take a bag from Kingsley and began working the kitchen. In an what seemed like an instant the once disregarded kitchen of the Black pureblood family was overwhelmed with the smell of Kraft mac n cheese from the box. Without asking, Fred Weasley assumed his position beside Loren Bruce and aided the muggle woman in cracking eggs and whisking brownie mix as the pasta cooked. Loren Bruce wanted to say to Fred that she was happy her daughter had chosen him. She also wanted to tell him that Jamie knew the red-head actually loved her. But the wizard kitchen was silent besides the occasional shuffles and clangs of pan, as well as the cackling stove.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was ready to excuse himself from Grimmauld place. He had plans to steer the ministry off Sirius Black's trail as well as guide them away from their suspicion that Jamie Devereaux was a half-breed. Instead, he found himself pulling plates from high-up places and handing them to the short woman with curly black hair who was already far too comfortable with him.
Jamie Devereaux watched as her mother bustled around the kitchen. She also watched as Fred Weasley looked surprisingly natural standing next to the muggle woman. They passed each other pans and stirred when the other was busy with something else. Jamie was certain they had never exchanged words before, but both Loren and Fred had heard so many stories about the other that they felt as if they knew each other. They were also united in one common goal: to make Jamie feel better.
The silver-haired witch stared at her favorite cheesy pasta that was placed in front of her. Without a word, she ate a huge bite and sighed as the warmth surrounded her. But then there was guilt. Guilt that Cedric would never get to taste pasta again. Guilt that she hadn't tried harder to stop him from entering the tournament when she had known something bad was going to happen. Guilt that she was here, and Cedric Diggory was not. When she swallowed, the Kraft sat in a lump at the base of her throat and she no longer felt hungry.
Fred sat beside Jamie and touched her shoulder, "Jamison," He said in a much softer tone than she had ever heard him use, "You need to eat something. Please. For me?"
Jamie nodded silently and ate more of her pasta, allowing Fred to touch her hair in soothing strokes as she did so. Before she knew it, the bowl was empty and the kitchen was filled with Weasley's and Order members alike. Ginny stood directly behind Jamie in a protective stance, as if daring anyone to do anything to set off the silver-headed blonde. Loren sat on the other side of Jamie and watched as her daughter finished off her food before looking up at the room of witches and wizards, all of which had been brought there by the Albus Dumbledore—who was sitting across from Jamie Devereaux. Albus had not yet been to Grimmauld place, but Minerva McGonagall had insisted that he be there for Loren Bruce's arrival, seeing as the muggle's presence meant that Jamie would be much more likely to open up to the people within the townhouse.
Dumbledore folded his thin, wrinkled hands atop the table in front of him and he studied the young witch in front of him. After a silent pause, where all that could be heard was the faint vibrations of the oven cooking Loren's brownies, Dumbledore spoke, "Jamie, I think it is okay, if you are ready, to confine in the Weasley's what they saw at the tournament."
Her mouth felt like cotton as Jamie swallowed what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell Dumbledore off for thinking now was the time to talk about her. All Jamie wanted to do was cry or sleep or talk about Cedric. This was hardly the time to marvel about something that—regardless of how different it was—was not incredible enough to bring her best friend back from the dead. Jamie studied the face of her headmaster. Despite his soft voice, she knew his prompt to not be a suggestion. She was going to tell them about her heritage, or she was going to be exposed, and there was no in-between. What surprised her was that, instead of turning toward her mother as an anchor, Jamie found her eyes locking with Fred Weasley as she spoke out her truth, "My father, Devereaux, was a male-Veela."
Ginny looked at George Weasley and they shared a look of confusion. The sole Weasley daughter spoke first, "So you're part Veela? How does that have to do with you being able to immobilize everyone around you?"
McGonagall began to explain to the group of the order, along with Weasley children and Hermione Granger, of the difference between male and female Veela. And elaborated on her theory that Jamie's emotions as well as the emotions of those around her had made it possible for her to stop everyone from getting in her way. However, Fred Weasley only had eyes for his little witch, who was also focused on him. Fred wanted to say something romantically charming about how nothing would change his feelings. Instead, he simply said, "So when can I see you sprout wings and throw fire-balls? Is that a third date kind of thing?"
The young Bruce girl sprout the first smiled she had in days and flicked the red-head next to her, "Watch it, Fredward, or I'll make your ears ring."
Grimmauld place was heavy with grief. Everyone was officially aware of just what Jamie Devereaux Bruce was, and what it entailed, but still no one could quite wrap their heads around what they had been told. The narration of Jamie's lineage made it seem as if Jamie's nature was to be evil. However, all they saw when they looked at the witch was a small and deeply upset, grieving young girl. No one, not even the wizards like Sirius Black who had only know her for a day, could imagine her to be this type of creature. And whenever Devereaux was described called a creature, the person who said the 'c' word was forced to bare the surprisingly intimidating glare of Loren Bruce, who had already proven herself in a house filled with wizards to be a formidable opponent.
That first night in the old home of the Black family was filled with awkwardness. Loren and Jamie were both learning the names of those around them and trying to keep to themselves. Jamie Devereaux just wanted to down a bottle of sleeping draught and curl up in a chair and forget everyone in the room, including her mother. Loren Bruce wanted to keep her daughter responsive, and was able to sense that something was distinctly off—beyond just grief—with her daughter.
It got to the point late at night that Jamie was being watched so carefully by her mother, she couldn't reveal where she had stashed her bottles of potion. Instead she laid awake all night, pretending to be asleep, and re-living Cedric Diggory's death on repeat for hours on end. That was, until, a silent shuffle entered into the living room where the two Bruce women slept on opposite couches. The Black house was not at all livable in many rooms thanks to Kreacher, and it would take several days until more rooms were available to Loren and Jamie. Of course, the Weasley family offered rooms to them, but Jamie had never had a problem sleeping on couches before and was banking on her sleeping draught that now rested tauntingly close to Loren's sleeping figure.
Jamie's head popped up and glanced over the couch to see Fred Weasley standing by the door. He was wearing too short of pajama pants and he headed toward her couch with a distinct purpose in his stride. With a quick glance behind his shoulder at Loren Bruce, Fred pulled Jamie's blanket up and slid under it, pressing himself against the little blonde. Jamie was in shock at how easily he did that. "Have you been doing this every night?" Jamie whispered.
Fred nodded and gently pushed her onto her side so that he could have more room to lay on the couch, "Why aren't you asleep like you usually are?" Fred asked.
Jamie was surrounded by the scent of cinnamon and campfire and felt her shoulders relax considerably against his broad chest, "Just nervous about what everyone thinks about me now." She responded somewhat honestly.
"Hermione claims she has known since just after Christmas." Fred mumbled, his lips against her hair as she curled against him, "Personally, I always knew the way your angry face changed was a bit unnatural."
"So you thought I was Veela?" Jamie whispered confused. Loren Bruce stirred from across the room and both Gryffindor students paused, barely breathing as they listened to make sure Jamie's mother stayed asleep.
After a few minutes of silence Fred responded, "No. But I knew you were more than just a witch. And I would never hold that against you."
Jamie's heart felt heavy at his words and she wanted to believe him, but something held her back. She knew Fred Weasley was in love with her, which meant that he could lie to her whenever he wanted, "How do I know you aren't lying?" Jamie asked.
Fred kissed her temple with a light touch and pulled the blanket up around their shoulders, "I guess you'll just have to trust me, Jamison."