The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Potter

Molly watches Phoebe pace back and forth, silently putting out the tiny flames that occasionally fall from the veela's hands and smolder on the wood floor.

"Why is it taking so long?!" The Veela cries. Her heart is in her throat. Where was James. She needed James.

"I'm sure it's fine, Dear," Molly says soothingly, trying again to hand her tea. Phoebe takes it in her hands, but then sets it down moments later. Untouched. She felt sick to her stomach.

"Phoebe, you need to eat," The orange haired witch says nervously. "You're looking peaky and James will have my head if you get sick."

"If I eat I'm going to be sick," Phoebe says quietly, her stomach churning at the thought. The thought of food. The thought of Sirius or Remus or Peter dead. The thought of James not coming home to her.

They aren't finished. She's not finished. She still wants to yell at him, marry him, have babies with him since he keeps making googly eyes every time she is near a child. The things she's scared of, she wants with him.

She and Molly freeze when they hear a loud 'pop.' They both turn to run to the hallway, but then they stop. Her heart stops beating.

Sirius and Remus are dragging James' limp body to the kitchen, grimaces on their dirt covered faces. She doesn't move to wipe away the tears that are falling freely, only to quickly move the tea things aside so they can hoist him up. He's silent, unmoving. Her hands shake when she sees his broken glasses and soot covered face.

"We think a building he was near got blasted. He was following..." Remus trails off, glancing at the distraught Veela next to him. He presses his lips firmly together before admitting, "He hasn't woken up since we found him."

Sirius' face is pale, his eyes reflecting the fear Phoebe is feeling when he looks at his friend—his brother laying on the table. Molly is already working, cutting open his shirt and wincing at the sight of his bruised body. Phoebe lurches forward, smacking Remus' hands off of her as she goes to stand by his head.

Sirius and Remus watch with crestfallen faces, the sight of the veela's shaking shoulders and the sounds of her quiet crying almost too much to bare.

Dumbledore and Madeye suddenly join them in the kitchen, grave looks on their faces. The Veela scowls at them when they appear, shouting tearfully,

"WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU!!!"

The older wizards flinch, Dumbledore not missing the flames that suddenly ball in her hands. Phoebe scoffs when he opens his mouth, silencing him with another hard look before she turns to Molly.

"What can we do?" Phoebe finally asks, her voice hoarse. Molly ignores her and continues to do her work, even when the girl shouts angrily, "Molly, do something! Get him to wake up!"

"I'm trying Phoebe," She finally says exasperatedly, her hands flying faster over James body than anyone can follow.

Everyone freezes when the boy they are working on, the boy that looks lifeless, lets out a groan that sounds like he's trying to say something.

"James!" Phoebe whispers urgently, brushing back the hair in his eyes with shaking hands. Another word-like croak leaves his mouth. Sirius and Remus shuffle closer, everyone including Dumbledore and Madeye trying to figure out what it is he's trying to say.

"What do you need, Prongs?" Sirius asks nervously, resting his hand on Phoebe's shoulder as she studies the boy she loves with wide eyes.

"S—"

They all lean in, ears straining.

"Sex," He rasps faintly.

Phoebe's brows furrow and Dumbledore suddenly has a relieved smile on his face. Remus and Sirius look at each other in disbelief.

Molly freezes her healing, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline as she asks awkwardly, "Did he just say what I think he said?"

A wide grin suddenly appears on James face, accompanied by a deep rumbling in his chest.

Laughing. He's laughing.

He's not dead.

Remus chokes out a shocked laugh while Phoebe squawks in disbelief, "You fucking git! You've been awake this whole time?!"

Sirius snickers and slaps his hand to his forehead, shaking his head when James slowly opens his eyes and mumbles, "Thought it was worth a shot, love."

Phoebe looks at him blankly, her eyes tracing his cheeky smile and his glassy hazel eyes. He's okay. He's alive. He's making jokes.

Everyone rears back when the normally stoic Veela bursts into tears, a mess of loud sobs and blubbering laughter wracking her body so violently that the table shakes. Sirius looks down at her with wide eyes, saying nervously,

"Uh Prongs, I think you broke her."

James laughs hoarsely, lifting his arms and grabbing her frail shoulders gently. She looks at him with tear stained cheeks and quivering lips. He smiles softly, realizing that even when she's balling and sniffling and laughing messily—she's beautiful. She's perfect.

"Aww," He says gently, one of his hands shakily wiping away some of her alligator tears, "Bee, I'm okay. I swear I'm fine."

She launches herself into his arms, her chest pressing against his so hard that she can feel his heart beat against her own. He stifles a groan, because even though it hurts nothing feels as good as holding the woman he loves.

"You're such a fucking prick, Potter," She says weakly, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "And a wimp. Don't you have the balls to say those nice things from that letter to my face?!"

"I called it," Remus says cheekily. "I knew she'd be mad you didn't say it to her face!"

"C'mere you," James mumbles, grabbing her chin gently and pulling her face up to his. Every bone, every muscle in his body hurts. But as soon as her lips touch his, it melts away. She kisses him gently, like she's afraid of hurting him. She can't help but smile when his grip tightens and he pulls her in closer, kissing her harder to show that he's okay. That he loves her.

Sirius makes a gagging noise and looks away, though beneath the surface he's celebrating. Because seeing the people he loves so much okay. happy. In love. It makes everything worth it.

Dumbledore and Molly are smiling knowingly, while Madeye just continues to stare up at the ceiling.

"Alright," Sirius finally grunts. "Break it up. We eat here for fucks sake!"

Phoebe pulls away, standing shakily on her feet as she looks down at the boy—the man—she loves. Her heart feels like it's going to explode when he grasps her hand and closes his eyes, mumbling,

"Can I get a sponge bath from my sexy nurse, please?"

Phoebe brushes back the hair that insists on falling in his eyes, her hand smudging away dirt and tears and dried blood.

"I'm sure Remus would be happy to."

His eyes fly open and he furrows his brow, grunting, "Merlins beard, woman. Get me off this table so I can kiss that smart mouth."