The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Protect

{{trying something different this chapter. Enjoy a glimpse into Phoebe's past!}}

"What was it like?"

Phoebe looks up from where she was gently running her fingers through James' hair. He was finally asleep, his head in her lap as she leaned back against the hospital bed frame. His arms were like iron around her waist, anchoring her to the bed. To him.

"Oh, Hi Peter," Phoebe says softly, smiling at her mousy friend. He smiles back, but doesn't say anything else. He asks again,

"What was it like? The curse. What did it feel like?"

She blinks at him dumbly, silence filling the air around them. Goosebumps erupt on her arms when she finally realizes what it is he's asking her.

"I-I don't really know how to describe it, Pete. It hurt."

"Yes, of course," He says rather snappily, shuffling closer to the foot of her bed. She feels the tiniest prickling of fear and wonders if she should wake James. But it was nonsense. This was Peter after all.

"It felt different each time," Phoebe finally whispers, busying her shaking hands with James' hair again.

The knowledge seems to please him, but he still looks curious. Phoebe can't help the relieved sigh she exhales when Sirius and Remus walk up to where Peter is standing. She gestures to the boy sleeping in her lap and whispers,

"He didn't sleep much last night."

Remus forces a smile and comes over to gently hug the Veela, his hands shaking slightly at the sight of her pale skin and bruised cheek.

Sirius stares at the foot of her bed blankly, his feet feeling like they have cinderblocks attached to them. He can't move. Phoebe smiles at Remus and glances back at her frozen friend. He won't look her in the eye.

"Sirius," She says quietly.

Her voice is raw, scratchy from the screams that made Sirius weep into his pillow the night before. Screams that his brother could've stopped. Sirius swallows past the lump in his throat and says lowly,

"Phoebe, I'm so sorry."

"regardez-moi," She demands, staring at her friend. Her brother. He takes a deep breath and finally lifts his head to face her. Their eyes, so much alike, lock onto one another. Phoebe smiles faintly, taken back to the first time she really saw him.

"You're rather thin," The dark haired boy says quietly, his eyes narrowed as he passes her the cigarette. Her wrist looked like he could break it in half, her elbow jutting harshly against the soft material of her jumper. Guilt pinches his gut, remembering when he'd listened to Ramona Bell call her an inferi and didn't say anything. She was wasting away.

She blinks at him silently, taking a drag and exhaling before she says quietly,

"You're rather bruised."

His steel eyes glare at her words, jaw tightening in disbelief. Returning to Hogwarts from Grimmauld Place left him battered physically and emotionally. He hid it well. Except from her apparently.

"Don't worry, Black. I won't tell," She hums, passing him the smoke. The pack of cigarettes and half empty bottle of firewhiskey lay spent between them. He could of grabbed his own, but he liked sharing. The cigarette and his secrets.

"You hate my best mate," Sirius says flatly, knowing that he should leave out of loyalty to his friend. James could not stand Phoebe Griffin, despite the major crush he'd had on her first year.

Phoebe laughs heartily to his surprise, her feet dangling precariously over the side of the Astronomy tower. Sirius finds himself laughing with her. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through their veins, or the undeniable kinship between them.

"You're not too bad, Pheebs," He relents, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were magnetic, undeniable. Grey like the sky during winter or fog that rises from the Black lake at dawn during the spring.

If he hadn't just snogged Marlene McKinnon in a broom closet hours before, he reckons he'd make a move. He'd heard that kissing a Veela was an old wizards challenge. Supposedly it brought on luck for years.

Then again, Phoebe Griffin might push him off this tower.

"You're not too bad either, Sirius," His name feels odd on her tongue, used to calling him and the rest of the Marauders some choice words. She sighs when she notices the way he's studying her, saying playfully,

"I reckon you'd like a kiss?"

Sirius blinks and recoils slightly, saying indignantly, "What?! N-"

"Save it. I see you, Black."

"I see you too, Griffin."

Phoebe says softly, "Je vais bien, mon frère. Je le jure."

Sirius angrily wipes away the hot tears on his cheeks, embarrassed that he's crying in front of Peter and Remus. He comes closer and sits in the chair by her bedside. Phoebe quickly reaches out and grabs his hand in hers, squeezing it so tight it makes her knuckles hurt.

"Je ne vous ai pas protégé. Regulus ne t'a pas protégé." He rasps, the betrayal of his brother that had scarred felt like a fresh cut. Opened up by the sight of him not intervening and helping Phoebe.

"Je peux me débrouiller tout seul. Et il m'a protégé, Sirius. Il m'a donné plus de temps pour m'échapper. S'il ne leur avait pas dit de laisser Geoffrey me tuer, je ne serais pas ici aujourd'hui."

Sirius looks at her in surprise. He still couldn't fathom his brother not stepping in, but at least Phoebe believed he had helped her.

Sirius glances up at where Peter and Remus are standing, both of them awkwardly listening to him and Phoebe converse in French.

In a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, he cracks a weary smile and says,

"Tu as une mine affreuse."

Phoebe covers her mouth with her free hand, snorting out a quiet laugh. She freezes when James groans in his sleep and shifts slightly on the bed, his arms tightening further around her waist.

When he stills and she is certain she is asleep she looks back up at her brother, certain that whatever spirit or thing in the universe that brought them together knew what it was doing.

Steadily, they look at each other. Both feel stronger, resigned to what has happened and what will happen in the future.

Phoebe smiles and says quietly,

"I see you, Sirius."

His sadness and anger slip away at her words, his chest rising and falling with his breaths the easiest they have since he'd seen her writhing in pain the night before.

"I see you, Phoebe."