The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Dress

"Can we try that in chiffon?" Alice wonders politely.

"No she should try the same one in an ivory color!" Lily insists.

Alice gasps, shaking her head quickly, "Absolutely not, Phoebe needs to wear white!"

"She's not exactly a vir—"

Phoebe balks at Marlene's crass words, instantly shutting up her friend. She'd tried on every dress robe in the sodding store, Madam Malkin having been nice enough to accommodate her and her demanding friends. She felt like a doll, being spun in and out of different dresses faster than she could blink. She felt ill. Something is off. Something is missing. Someone is not here.

She's stood before Marlene, Lily, and Alice now, looking at herself in the mirror. And she's hyper aware of how critical of herself she's being. This one made her ribs look wide, the ones before made her arms look spindly. The first one, she could practically hear her mother telling her that she must lose weight before she walks down the aisle, or else her husband might become uninterested.

She swallows back bile, smiling weakly when Madam Malkin guides her into the dressing room. She's half way undressed, her eyes lingering on her abdomen when the curtains are suddenly thrusted back.

"Lily!" Phoebe cries, pulling the limp dress up to cover herself. Her red headed friend scoffs, "Merlin, Pheebs. I've seen it all before. Plus, we've snogged so I think we're okay."

Phoebe's lips twitch slightly and she rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she asks, "Come to demand that I try on something in off white?"

Lily's green eyes grow soft, and Phoebe is taken back to when she first met the girl. She was the first person she talked to at Hogwarts, the first girl that was her friend. And then Marlene and Alice came along and rounded out their tiny family. Sisters. They were the sisters Phoebe never had, the family she'd always wanted.

"Phoebe," Lily starts gently, reaching out and grabbing her friends wrist. The veela's throat grows tight when her friend continues, "You're absolutely stunning. You look perfect in every single thing you've tried on. So, what's bothering you?"

Phoebe averts her gaze. She can't look at her. Because if she's going to tell her how she feels, if she's going to be brave, she can't look at the green eyes she's known since she was 11.

"I feel..." She swallows past the lump in her throat. Her heart feels heavy as she admits something that had been filling her with guilt since she'd stepped through the door.

"I wish Mia was here."

Lily blinks at her silently, her grip on her arm growing tighter. She sighs and whispers regretfully, "I know you do. I'm so sorry, Pheebs."

"I'm a terrible daughter," The Veela mutters, glancing back at the mirror. She fights Lily's grip, her hands instinctively going to press on her stomach. Lily holds her tighter.

"You are not a terrible daughter. You deserve every bit of happiness in the world. And I know that things were strained between you and your mother, that she's likely said some unforgivable things to you. But it's okay to be mad at her. And it's okay to miss her too."

Phoebe turns to face her fully, her eyes prickling slightly. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't. So she did something else. Lily let's out a tiny noise of surprise when the blonde is suddenly hugging her, her arms tight around her middle and her face hidden in her shoulder.

"I love you, Lils," Phoebe whispers, silently thanking Merlin that she had the fiery girl in her life. She can hear sniffling above her, and she smiles. Lily had always been the first to cry.