Beautiful Soul

This is the final chapter ever written for Beautiful Soul and it was written by a dear friend of mine, hd_otp. She was feeling a bit sad for Jesse who tortured her until she wrote this bit out. Enjoy and thank you again for reading! You are all awesome, especially those that have reviewed!!


Jesse’s parents frantically removed the charms and spells the Hogwarts crew had placed on their son. Luckily, not too many people had seen Jesse’s embarrassing moment, so the boy was able to mostly save face. But, Draco had successfully ruined his relationship with Emily. She’d taken a cab straight to the airport, not giving him even a sliver of a chance to explain. Jesse wasn’t too bothered by it, but it would mean some explaining, excuse making, and lying to the media once he got back to America.

Moodily, Jesse left the party and stormed off to his hotel room. He was supposed to play one more show in Britain, but he’d demanded his parents cancel it. Draco had been all too clear that Jesse was no longer welcome in the UK.

Once in his room, Jesse stripped down and crawled into his bed to sulk. He should have known Draco would ruin his plans. His British cousin had somehow managed to come out on top, no matter how hard Jesse tried to do something great of his own for once.

Draco had gotten magical powers. Draco was a genius. Draco handled being a Malfoy with grace. And now, Draco got The-Boy-Who-Lived, while Jesse had no one.

Jesse rolled onto his side with a sigh. He picked up a mirror off of his bed side table, because looking at himself always cheered him up. [Vain prat that he is.]

He looked over the sharp, defined contours of his face. He examined the way his soft blonde locks fell over his forehead, accenting his sparkling, clear blue eyes. He began to feel his mood start to lighten. He was Jesse McCartney for Salazar's sake. No one in America knew who his bloody cousin was, but everyone in both nations knew of Jesse. Draco thought he was all that, but he so wasn’t. Draco and his bloody wand. Draco and his bloody brains. Draco and his bloody name. Draco and his bloody boyfriend. Well, Jesse was famous, and had girls, and boys as well for that matter, of all ages, bloodlines, and nationalities swooning over him and his lyrics. Who cared if he didn’t write his own lyrics? He sang them didn’t he? And for that matter, he DID help write a few of the songs. He had talent. And all Draco had was his bloody wand.

And those stormy grey eyes.

But, really, Jesse had sparkling blue ones. Who needs stormy grey eyes when you've got sparkling blue ones? Girls loved his eyes. Boys loved his eyes. Why on Earth would Jesse want stormy grey eyes when everyone loved his eyes as they were?

Everyone except Harry Potter, a nagging little voice in his head reminded him.

Jesse rolled his eyes. This was so stupid. Why in the hell was he arguing with himself? He never wanted Harry in the first place. He was just a ploy to get closer to the top.

Or closer to Draco, the nagging voice taunted again.

No, closer to the top. Why closer to Draco? That arrogant git was insufferable. Always trying to make Jesse feel like scum, just because he was a squib. Taunting him with that bloody wand of his. Stupid magic. Who needed it? Jesse had pipes.

Yeah, and that’s about it, isn’t it? The voice nagged again, making Jesse want to rip his own head off. Like it wasn’t bad enough Draco made him feel like scum, now his own mind had to attack him too?

Jesse got out of bed angrily and pulled out his suitcase. He searched down to the bottom, underneath all of his clothes, and pulled out his most treasured item. He unwrapped it out of the soft protective cloth he kept on it while he traveled. Inside lay a framed picture of Draco. His family had received pictures of Draco’s family for Christmas when Draco had been fifteen. When his parents weren’t looking, Jesse had nicked one of the copies of the picture of Draco. He’d carried it with him everywhere every day since then. Hands shaking, he pulled the picture out of the frame, which he let drop to the floor and shatter. Hot angry tears burning in his eyes, Jesse ripped the picture into hundreds of little pieces. The shreds gathered on the floor, and Jesse’s tears fell down on the pile.

The one song on his album he’d actually helped write. His hit single. Beautiful Soul.

It was all for Draco. The one boy he could never have. The one boy he’d ruined everything with. And he had only himself to blame.

He’d tried so hard to impress Draco. To show him that even though he may not be magic, he could still be a Malfoy. He could still be a Slytherin. But that wasn’t enough for him.

Jesse sunk farther and farther into himself, curling into a little ball and crying his eyes out. Draco was the only person that could make him feel anything. But all he felt was pain. He lay there crying like this until he just couldn’t cry anymore. Eventually, he stood up and cleaned his face up before setting off to his parent’s room.

“Mom, Dad, come to my room, now. I need your help," he commanded them.

They both jumped up and followed Jesse back to his room. "What? What is it, Jesse?" his mother asked frantically.

He led them into the middle of the room and pointed to the ruined picture on the floor. "Fix it!" he directed. "Use your magic and fix it."

"Oh, is that all, sweetie?" his mother asked, seeming much more relieved. She fixed the picture with a wave of her wand, not even bothering to look at what she’d righted. She pulled her husband back to their bedroom. They both knew how Jesse liked his privacy.

Jesse locked his door behind his parents and kneeled back down. He carefully put the fixed picture back in its frame and wrapped it back up, tucking safely away in his suitcase once again. Jesse may not be a wizard, but he still had the blood of generations of Slytherins, and Slytherins always got what they wanted. Jesse always got what he wanted. And he wanted his cousin. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his entire life. He would find a way to win over the other blonde.