The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

James, you're drunk

{{I may or may not be crafting a playlist for the wedding. If you tell me a song and who you think would request it, I may just add it. :) }}

When Phoebe apparates back to Grimmauld place with Marlene, the first thing that greets them is loud singing.

Marlene smiles dryly and mutters, "Perhaps we should just leave them? They're practically in love."

Phoebe nods and says with mock seriousness, "We'll always have each other, Marlene."

Her friend just laughs and grabs the her by the arm, both of them trying to prepare for what scene they would be greeted with in the kitchen.

Phoebe just sighs at the sight. There's cups and bottles strewn about, cigars smoldering in one of the antique ashtrays the painting of Wallburga screams about when they use. James' shirt is half untucked from his pants, Sirius having apparently for gone wearing one. Kreacher sits sneering in the corner, muttering about his Mistress' hat that sits sideways on Sirius' head.

Marlene laughs loudly, earning the attention of James, Sirius, and the distressed house elf. Sirius gasps, clapping his hands together and slurring,

"Look, Prongs! It's our wives!"

Marlene quirks a brow, replying with mirth, "Please, Black. Like you could ever get me to marry you." She pauses and glances at James, snickering, "Oi, Potter! Quit drooling over Pheebs!"

Phoebe smiles at her fiancé, trying hard to not laugh at his dropped jaw and wide eyes. Her cheeks warm when he whisper yells, "Merlin, she's gorgeous!"

Phoebe laughs and walks to his side of the table, taking his outstretched hand and teasing, "You're gorgeous too."

"I'm very handsome," James agrees, words blurring together. He suddenly peers over at his friend and wonders, "Padfoot, fancy a quidditch match? We'll play two on two!"

"Oi! That sounds like a fine idea," Sirius crows, stumbling slightly in the direction of the door. Marlene blocks his way and says with mock sincerity, "Okay, yeah. But first let's go up to your room. Your broom is up there."

Sirius stares at her blankly for a moment before nodding and mumbling, "I thought I'd but it in a closet down here.."

"Nope," Marlene says quickly, grinning when Phoebe smirks her way. "It's upstairs in your room."

"Well alright," Sirius grunts, leaning heavily on Marlene as they make their way out of the kitchen. When Phoebe turns back to look at James, she's surprised to see that he's sat down. Staring at her. She knew that look.

"James," She warns, taking a step back.

His hands fly to her faster than she can scramble backwards, grabbing her by the backs of her knees and pulling her to straddle his lap. She doesn't have time to even think before his lips latch onto her throat.

"James!" She gasps, eyes practically crossing from the way his teeth and tongue are punishing her skin. She bites back a whimper when he bites down harder, shoving at his chest and saying hurriedly, "James, you're drunk!"

"Drunk on you," He mumbles cheekily, causing Phoebe to roll her eyes at his cheesiness. Her hands fly to his shoulders when he licks a teasing stripe up the side of her neck, a moan escaping her before she can stop it. She scowls when she feels him smirking against her neck, saying firmly, "If you don't stop right now I'm sleeping in a different room."

He instantly pulls back, leaning away in his chair with wide, slightly unfocused eyes. Phoebe sighs like a tired parent, wondering incredulously, "Where are your glasses, Potter?"

James wrinkles his nose and shrugs, reaching up to pull her lips back down to him. Phoebe reluctantly pecks his lips, trying to not laugh at his dramatic groan when she climbs off of him. She grabs his hands and grunts as she pulls him to his feet, sighing when he slumps into her. She can hardly hold him up, grimacing under the weight of his large frame. Phoebe looks across the room, a hopeful smile on her face as she pleads, "Kreacher, would—"

The house elf disappears with a loud 'crack.' Phoebe scowls and begins dragging James with her as best she can. The climb up the stairs takes ages, the boy stopping to crack a joke that Phoebe didn't understand or to try and make fun of the angry portraits on the wall. She finally gets him to the bathroom and sits him on the toilet, huffing, "Do not move."

James grins up at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. He suddenly pulls off his shirt, tossing it at her and snickering when it hits her in the face. Phoebe scowls, pulling the fabric away from her eyes just in time to see James standing and shoving down his trousers.

"James!" Phoebe cries, smacking his hands away as they reach for his boxers. James laughs and says playfully, "I'm getting ready for bed."

Phoebe pinches the bridge of her nose before grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste and thrusting them into his hands. James smirks and reluctantly begins to brush his teeth with one hand. Phoebe jumps when his hand suddenly slides up her thigh, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. She bites down hard on her lower lip, deciding that her refusal just made him act out more. So she stands and brushes her own teeth while James slowly rubs his palm up the side of her leg.

He spits and rinses out the sink, waiting patiently and rinsing again when she's finished. His hand moves higher and Phoebe warns, "James Fleamont Potter, so help me Merlin—"

"Cmon Bee. You're so sexy in these pants," James groans loudly, wrapping his arms around her middle as they stumble out of the bathroom and down the hall.

Phoebe flushes when he starts mumbling unbelievably crass things in her ear. Though it's not the words that embarrass her. It's the fact that they're turning her on. She quickly slams her bedroom door shut and insists, "I'm not going to have sex with you while you're drunk!!!"

James flops down into her bed, slurring disappointedly, "Phoeeeebeee!!!!

The Veela bites back a laugh, wondering if he will at all remember this in the morning. She sighs and shakes her head to herself, quickly changing into her pajamas before climbing into bed.

James turns on his side, eyes wide as he asks hopefully, "What about a snog?"

Phoebe gives him a flat look and replies, "If you aren't hung over in the morning I swear I will snog you."

James' eyes twinkle at the challenge, holding out his hand. The Veela sighs exasperatedly, shaking it as he says cheekily, "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss. Griffin."

"We'll see who is smiling tomorrow, Mr. Potter," Phoebe quips, rolling to her side so her back is facing him in an attempt to keep both his and her hands off of each other.

She can't stop her smile when he pulls her into his arms, his drunken mumbling slowly but surely lulling her to sleep.

{{I've been getting a lot of messages asking me to shout out your guys stories! Trust me—I really want to advertise for each and every one of you, but the time I have to read your fics is pretty slim. So in an attempt to not leave anyone out, comment here and pitch your stories!!! Or—recommend other people's! Hopefully this doesn't upset anyone, It's just if I shout out one person then I have to shout out everyone. Please comment and let our little community know about your writing or authors you love!}