The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Scarf

Lily, Marlene, and Alice watch Phoebe tug on her boots and her coat as they get ready, matching smiles on their faces. Phoebe turns when she's finally set, jumping at the sight of the three girls just standing there.

"You lot look rather creepy," She says slowly. Alice's smile grows and she gushes, "We just are excited that you and James—"

"James and I are friends. He still fancies Lily," Phoebe interrupts sternly. Marlene scoffs and rolls her eyes, "Pheebs, James does not fancy Lily. Sirius told me he lied about the Amortentia and Lily hasn't been harassed by him once!"

"Plus, I've been seeing Fabian Prewett," Lily points out, flushing at the thought of the ginger haired boy. Phoebe sighs, deciding to not fight it.

"Let's get out of here, I told Potter I'd see him before the game," Phoebe says, walking out of the dorm. She tries to ignore the girls teasing oooo's and ahhh's as they wander down to the quidditch pitch.

"I'm growing awfully tired of you lot," Phoebe says loudly, stifling her laughter.

"You love us," Alice points out, Marlene and Lily nodding.

"But...not as much as you love Potter," Lily cries, grabbing Marlene and Alice and running away towards the stands before Phoebe can stop them. The Veela scowls and yells after them, "Save me a seat, you fucking gits!!!"

She sighs and turns the opposite direction, making her way towards the tent where the Gryffindors are changing and getting ready. She pokes her head in through the tent, searching the room. She doesn't see James, but she recognizes a mop of curly black hair.

"Oi," She hisses. "Sirius."

Her best friend perks up, looking over his shoulder. He smirks and says cheekily, "Pheebs, I didn't fancy I'd see you here."

"Yes, well I've been recruited as Potter as a spy for the team and was requested to meet here," She replies with mock seriousness, even standing up straight and saluting. Sirius snorts and rolls his eyes, gesturing for her to come in. She enters the warm tent, rubbing her hands together to heat up. Taking a spot on the wooden bench, she looks up at a mischievous looking Sirius.

"Prongs!" He shouts at the top of his lungs. Phoebe curses and clamps her hands over her ears, glaring at the boy darkly. He cracks up at her angry expression, turning and to face a confused looking James as he sprints in,

"Bloody hell, Padfoot! Do you have to—" He stops short when he sees Phoebe. A grin takes over his face before he can stop it, eyeing the girl with her hands clasped over her ears and a irritated frown on her lips. Sirius bows at the waist to Phoebe and says in a mock posh accent as he backs away,

"Mademoiselle, bonne chance dans votre mission."

Phoebe flips him off, removing her hands from her ears and bites back loudly, " Tu ferais mieux de surveiller tes arrières, mon frère."

James stares at the girl as she speaks, slightly breathless at the French words coming from her perfect lips. He shakes his head to regather himself and says cheekily, "You can speak French to me anytime you want, Griffin."

Phoebe blushes slightly at his flirty words, praying that James doesn't notice. She quickly asks, "Why did you want to see me?"

"Because I like looking at you."

She looks at James exasperatedly, feeling very flustered from his attention and his words. Not to mention how fit he looks in his quidditch uniform. Phoebe looks away before he can notice her appraising his muscular form underneath his shirt. James doesn't know why he's feeling so bold, but he does. And he likes that it's riling her up.

James smirks and takes the seat next to her, saying slowly, "I asked you to meet me, because I need a favor."

"Oh great. What now?" Phoebe asks sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the boy. James reaches behind his back and pulls out a scarf. Phoebe quirks a brow at him, waiting for him to speak. He smiles and says seriously, "You have to wear this."

Phoebe studies it more closely and realizes that it's the scarf that goes with his uniform, including his number and his last name. Her eyes widen and she gently reaches out to touch the knit scarf, butterflies erupting in her stomach. James' smile softens and he slowly wraps it around her neck for her, swallowing roughly at the sight of his name displayed on the fabric above her heart.

"It suits you," James says quietly, brushing her hair back to reveal more of it. Phoebe smiles rather shyly, responding, "Your fan girls are going to murder me."

"I'll protect you," He teases, rolling his eyes. Phoebe feels like she's going to float away when he continues nervously, "I want people to know that you're cheering me on. Consider it my good luck charm."

Phoebe laughs and nods, saying , "Okay. I'll wear it, Potter."

"Really?" He raises his brows, years of rejection preparing him for a lengthy and strongly worded 'no.' He wasn't sure what had changed, besides the girl he was chasing. Perhaps he truly liked her this time.

"Of course! Anything to help us win the match," She says playfully, reaching up and touching the scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. "You might get cold without it, though."

"I'll be fine, Griffin. You're the one that's cold all of the time."

She laughs again and James latched onto the way her lips quirk up and her dimple appears on her left cheek. He knows the grin on his face probably looks stupid, but he doesn't care. Phoebe raises a brow and asks slowly, "Anything else?"

James heard the whistle blow, signaling the start of the game. He tries hard not to frown, for once in his life wishing that quidditch could wait. Phoebe stands and holds out her hand, like it's the simplest thing in the world. James feels warmth tingle in his chest as he grasps her small hand and climbs to his feet. Phoebe smiles and says finally, "Don't embarrass yourself, Potter. I've got 5 galleons on this game."

James chuckles and nods, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he lets go and begins to back away. Unable to resist the chance to rile her up he asks mischievously, "No good luck kiss, Griffin? I'm disappointed."

Phoebe doesn't know why she thinks it's a good idea, maybe it's how brave James makes her feel, how he makes her forget how she's supposed to be stoic and calm and collected. Or maybe it's the irresistible and boyish grin on his soft looking lips. Phoebe smirks and steps closer, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to the very corner of his lips.

"Good luck," she quips before turning and disappearing from his sight, leaving a dazed looking boy in her wake.

James hollers after her, "You missed, Griffin!!!"

He relishes the laughter he can hear from outside the tent before he turns and grabs his broom, unable to wipe the smile off his face.