The Tale of Jamie Devereaux

Veela Jesus

Chapter Twenty-One: Veela Jesus

Fred Weasley woke up the next morning with a feeling of dread and a splitting headache. George did not ease his twin into the realization of what he had done. Upon noticing Fred waking up, George pounced. "You are a git, you know that?"

Fred was lying on his bed and blinked at his brother that was sitting across from him. He swallowed hard, tasting the residual hint of fire-whiskey on his breath. He raised himself onto his elbow and immediately grabbed his head in a wince, "Tell me it was all a horrible dream, Georgie."

"It wasn't. You're a git and you snogged Mallory right in front of Jamie. Is this part of your grand plan to get her to fall in love with you? If it is, it's a shit plan." Fred groaned loudly, grabbing his pillow and smothering his face in it, briefly hoping to suffocate to death. The flash of Jamie Devereaux's confused face at seeing Mallory with him on the couch last night flew into his mind. Then his fogged brain convincing him that seeing her jealous or upset would be vindicating and proof that her reaction to him wasn't just inside his brain. Fred Weasley was tired of not knowing for sure if the little blonde liked him or not and, under the influence of Fire Whiskey, he had believed that this was the best course of action.

The hungover red-head peaked out from under his pillow at George, "Did she look upset?"

"She looked bloody wrecked, Fred." George responded.

"Why does that make me feel good?" Fred asked, with a bit of a lighthearted jest.

George was not in the mood to joke after his twins mistake, "Because you're a cold hearted bastard, that's why. Congratulations, you proved that she would care if you snogged someone else. Now you're never going to get her back."

Fred groaned again, pure dread hitting him hard, "Can't get something back you never had in the first place." Was all he said before pulling his covers up over his head and hoping for a swift death and to never see Mallory Norden ever again.

--

During the month of November Jamie Devereaux Bruce split her time relatively evenly between two of the Triwizard Champions: Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory. The reasoning behind this was partly because of their company and partly because Jamie was doing all in her power to avoid being in the Gryffindor common room and seeing a certain red-head or one of her roommates. She often stayed out of her dorm until Curfew hit and then would immediately get under her covers and disassociate from the room she was in. Seeing Fred Weasley in a good amount of her classes daily was painful. The only thing that somewhat placated her was that he at least was no longer instigating conversations or fights with her. Had he have even spoken a word to her she feared what she would do. Her male-Veela half seemed more prominent than ever before. Jamie's anger was constantly right on the surface, and had Fred Weasley joked about Pureblood supremacy with her again there was a legitimate chance she would have clawed his eyes out. Or at the very least severely maimed the sixth-year boy.

Jamie knew she had no reason to be this angry, Fred had told her he hadn't liked her last term. But the snog with Mallory had felt intentionally directed toward Jamie. Like he was aware of her crush and had done it to spite her. It was incredibly out of character for Fred Weasley to truly do something so cruel, but maybe the months of fighting had been too much for him and he wanted a way to make sure Jamie stopped interacting with him completely.

That afternoon Jamie Devereaux and Fleur Delacour sat together in a pretty alcove that overlooked to Hogwarts grounds. It was too cold to be sitting outside, but both blonde witches wanted to appreciate the view. Jamie had confided in Fleur everything about Fred, grateful to have an older girls perspective. The quarter-Veela had truly become like a sister to Jamie in just a few weeks of knowing one another. While Fleur was a tad conceited in comparison to Jamie Devereaux, it didn't dampen their relationship at all. In fact, the small bursts of confidence that Fleur forced Jamie to have did wonders for her mood during that month. Often, Fleur would demand that the smaller witch recognize how beautiful she was out loud, and how it was—in and of itself—its own power.