The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Grief

Phoebe chews her sugar quill slowly, as if she's expecting it to taste as bland as shes been feeling. She'd passed through the first days after the news of her mother's death like a ghost.

She'd been bombarded with letters from family, her cousins and grandma already asking for things and specificities on the funeral. Phoebe had decided there wouldn't be one, as she had been assigned the sole owner and recipient of her mother's possessions. She couldn't stand the thought of her relatives, some of them only interested for money or trinkets, pretending to cry over her mother. She was guilty enough, without their help.

Her grandmother was so pissed that she sent a howler to hogwarts, screaming about what a disgrace Phoebe was to the family. Phoebe figured she was only pissed because the house in France—the one that was a prison to Phoebe the last few summers — actually belonged to her mother, not her grandmother. And now belonged to her.

Phoebe's mother was cremated and returned to the ocean by that French cottage, an event only for the daughter of the murdered Veela. She'd insisted that she could do it herself, even apparating to get it done before swiftly returning back to Hogwarts with Mcgonagall's permission.

School was harder than she'd expected after that, having assumed that grief would disappear like her mother's ashes to the wind. Throughout classes when people would offer their sympathy, her friends would eye each other and quickly distract the Veela. If people tried to ask her questions, they'd shut them up. The marauders had more than a few detentions under there belts for getting people to fuck off. They were all nervous for the Veela, afraid she was going to switch from blank stare to yelling or sobbing any minute. So, The classes that James didn't have with her he assigned a specific 'Phoebe detail.'

Charms was Marlene and Alice, Herbology was Remus, Astronomy was Sirius, and Care of Magical Creatures was Lily. Phoebe had noticed them all baby sitting her, but was too tired to care. It had begun to bother her, get under her skin, but then she would see James and be flooded with relief. Safety. She felt scared and nervous when he wasn't around, not that it had shown past an occasional blank look.

So when he joined her in the common room tonight with the rest of their friends she cracked a small smile. James notices her lips quirking up and grins gently, murmuring, "Hello, bee. Doing okay?"

"Yes, the watch dogs you've assigned to me have kept me from crying or burning the castle down."

James chuckles quietly at the glimpse of her cheeky self and bends down to where she's sitting in front of the sofa on the ground. He briefly kisses her cheek, ignoring the gagging sounds from Sirius sitting next to her.

Marlene, her hands plaiting her boyfriends hair, takes the opportunity to yank hard. Sirius yelps in pain and reaches up to swat her hands away.

James smirks slightly and climbs over Phoebe, taking the seat on the couch behind her and next to Marlene. He didn't want to push the Veela to talk about her feelings, not if she wasn't ready to. So, they didn't talk much after the night she found out about her mother's death. They would whisper about nothing into the night and hold each other as they slept.

James didn't need for her to talk, but he wished desperately that she felt comfortable confiding in him more. He felt like she was slipping away from him, mentally and physically. She was quiet, gaunt. Guilt was eating her alive, but she wouldn't say anything. He could tell she was grieving, not just the loss of her mother...but the loss of the relationship they had been attempting to rebuild.

Phoebe smiles a bit wider when his hands comb through her long blonde hair. Subtly, the group shares a look at the emotion, feeling a wave of relief. James and Sirius had coached them to not talk about it too much, much to Lily and Alice's disbelief. They were feelers, the kind of people to spill their emotions out when they got to be too much. Phoebe, much like Sirius, was a stuffer.

Marlene clears her throat and says,

"Here, James. I'll show you."

James peers over at her hands, watching her cross sections of Sirius' hair. He carefully strokes Phoebe's long hair into his hand, dividing it into three. The veela's smile remains on her lips and she relaxes for the first time that day, stifling a bit of laughter as Marlene mutters,

"Fuck sakes, Potter. That looks terrible. Start over."

"Sod off, McKinnon. It's my first time."

Remus and Lily chuckle while Alice smiles at the brown haired boy knowingly. Phoebe suddenly speaks, saying slowly, "Do you know what Lockheart said to me today?"

James' hands still slightly in her hair, the group surprised to hear her speaking. They'd gone nearly a week without hearing much from her. He makes nervous eye contact with Remus before Lily asks curiously, trying not to sound too concerned, "What's that, Pheebs?"

"He said he was sorry that my mum died, but at least now I could join him this summer at his chateaux in Italy for some fun," She responds, her brows furrowed at the memory. She looks up from her sugar quill when she realizes the room had gone quiet. Everyone was staring at her with wide eyes, Alice's jaw practically hitting the floor. Sirius raises his brows at her and finally breathes out, "Fuck."

A snort of laughter erupts from the blonde from beside him. She slaps a hand over her mouth as she tries to bite back her laughter, her shoulders shaking. She finally bursts, cracking up at the memory of Lockheart's crass words and the terrified looks on everyone's face.

"Merlin, Lily. You look like you're going to pass out," Phoebe snickers. James leans over from his position behind her with his hands still plaiting her hair. He quirks a brow at her, a little scared by her laughter. Phoebe rolls her eyes at his appearance in her line of sight and says loudly, "I'm fine!"

"Pheebs," Remus begins, eyeing her sadly. She interrupts him with a firm tone, "I'm sad. I'm guilty. And I'm so fucking pissed I can't see straight. But I'm going to be okay."

James feels a surge of pride at her voiced emotions, his heart swelling as she continues, "I told James I wasn't good at emotions. So everyone just bare with me. I'm going to cry and yell and laugh like a crazy person. But I'm going to be okay."

Sirius grins from his spot beside her, saying warmly, "We're sorry, Pheebs. And we love you. We're gonna get through this."

The girls and Remus and Peter jump in, all agreeing loudly. James pecks her forehead, whispering, "I'm proud of you, Bee."

Phoebe feels a fluttering of a scary, recognizable emotion in her chest. Love. She loves him. But that voice in the back of her mind, the one that had replaced her grandmother and her mother was screaming doubting words at her. He hadn't kissed her, touched her, done more than given her a hug like a first year boy. That voice sneers that he's scared of her, that she's damaged and worthless and a terrible daughter.

The combined emotions of doubt and love are scary and foreign, so she just smiles and waves him off, saying loudly, "You all can go back to treating me like I'm normal again, please. My mother would absolutely hate all of this."

Sirius chuckles and side hugs her. James tries to hide his smile as he relishes the feeling of her silvery hair in his hands and the smile on her face. She was going to be okay. He suddenly pauses again, asking, "When did Lockheart say that crap to you?"

"I don't know, sometime earlier this week. But it was fucking insanity, J. I don't think I've ever been so stunned in my life," Phoebe cries, gesturing wildly. James scowls, grumbling, "Remind me to hex him next time I see him."

Phoebe hums a response, returning her sugar quill to her lips and finding that it tastes much sweeter to her than it did earlier.

"Potter, that's actually rather good!" Marlene says cheerfully,leaning over to study the plait running down her back. James grins proudly, especially when Phoebe reaches up to feel her hair. She looks over her shoulder at him, an impressed smile on her lips.

"Good job, James," She says softly. He grins down at her and winks, leaning in to whisper, "Good job, Phoebe."

She feels the tiniest bit of pride, proud that she can begin to slowly move through her grief and define her emotions with this boy by her side.