The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

And so it begins

{{thanks for being so patient...and thanks in advance for not hating me too much.}}

Phoebe smiles warmly from the kitchen table, her eyes soft at the scene before her.

Minerva McGonagall is bouncing Harry up and down in her lap, a happy look replacing the head of house's normally shrewd expression. Sirius is hovering nearby, a nervous expression on his face each time the baby is bounced a little bit higher. He was protective, though not nearly protective as Harry's godmother.

"That's enough!" Marlene finally cries, swooping in and scooping Harry into her arms despite McGonagall's squawk of protest. Sirius looks relieved, his expression growing relaxed as he takes in the sight of Marlene and Harry. Marlene, Harry, and the rather new addition to Marlene's ring finger.

The two had refused to announce it, hadn't even acknowledged it at the Order meeting, but Phoebe had spied the shining stone and nearly wept tears of joy. Marlene was one of her best friends and Phoebe only wanted the best for her, but the true thing that Phoebe treasured, was Sirius' hope. His hope for a better future. She hoped for that too. And once Harry had gotten settled and used to sleeping at their home in Godric's Hollow, Phoebe had grown accustomed to sneakily apparating to Grimmauld Place in the night.

The cover of darkness was welcome as Phoebe and Sirius painted the old library, tore down shelves and paintings so that the walls were clear and a new family tree could grow from them. A tree that sprouted from a crack in the plaster of the green walls they'd decided to paint bright yellow much to Kreacher's chagrin. A tree with winding branches, names looping like vines that read the names of those past and priest. A tree starting with Sirius Orion Black and Phoebe Leonié Griffin. Siblings, ones that had crawled out of the depths of solitude. Siblings that knew family was made, not destined.

"Alright, love?"

Phoebe jumps, cursing lowly as she turns to face her cheeky husband. James Potter just grins, his eyes eagerly raking up her body. The Veela's cheeks turn pink, her eyes darting away as she clears her throat and replies curtly, "Just fine."

Intimacy had been limited since the birth of Harry. In part due to Phoebe's physical limitations, though a large mental block that overwhelmed her was due to her internal dialogue. It was rare that she didn't hear her mother screaming in her head about carbs, or her grandmother mentioning the stretch marks that now painted her thighs. She had to remind herself that the voices weren't real, that her body had given her a beautiful baby. But it was hard, and James could only do so much to break down her walls.

So, he'd been unyieldingly patient. He'd held her when she'd cried, woke up with her every time Harry needed to be changed or nursed, let her sleep in, made sure she ate. And Merlin, had he flirted.

He was relentless, and Phoebe hates to admit that it feels good. The way her heart beat picks up when he pulls his lower lips between his teeth, or the way her stomach clenches whenever he lets out a low whistle or a curse when she walks by. She felt young again. She felt beautiful when he was near.

James scoots closer as if he can hear her thoughts, a smug grin quirking his lips. His arm snakes around her, Phoebe's eyes widening when she feels his hand skimming over her backside. She tuts disapprovingly, reaching back to grab his hand and settle it more appropriately on her hip. He chuckles in her ear and her cheeks grow warmer as he mumbles, "You're so fucking sexy, Bee."

Phoebe hesitates, something in her feeling more confident, more...normal. She was beginning to feel like herself again, like her identity hadn't changed now that she was a mom. Her lips twitch slightly before she replies softly, "So are you."

James' finger flex on her hip and she stifles a laugh at the exasperated noise that leaves him. She quickly straightens up when Remus walks by, her voice louder as she wonders, "Where's Gideon?"

"Really?" James grumbles. "You're going to mention your ex now?"

Phoebe rolls her eyes, her smile growing as she elbows him. Remus laughs and shrugs, replying, "He and Fabian and Lily were at the Burrow this morning. I doubt they've left yet. They're quite fond of the twins."

Remus grimaces at his own words and Phoebe hides her smile on James' shoulder. Not all children were as easy as Harry had become. George and Fred Weasley were rebel rousers, and hair pullers. Molly had her hands full, especially now that she had little Ronald. Phoebe was dying to meet him, Neville as well. Alice and Frank had been holed up, fearful of the impending darkness. James and Phoebe were too, strictly traveling to their home in Godric's Hollow and to Grimmauld Place. Phoebe knew James was itching to get out, to even just go to Diagon alley. But it wasn't safe. It wasn't even safe for them to have friends over to their own home.

"Come to think of it," James muses, "We're missing quite a few people."

Phoebe's brow furrows and she realizes that he is right, several people are missing from the normally large gathering. Numbers had dwindled due to fear, but not to this extent.

Phoebe feels a sudden prickling up her spine and she shoves past James, hurriedly grabbing Harry from Marlene's arms. Something wasn't right. Sirius looks like he feels much the same, his eyes reflecting the worry she was feeling. Something wasn't right.

Remus has gone pale, his skin nearly grey as he whispers, "Where is everyone?"

Minerva McGonagall rises to her feet and squares her shoulders, voice unwavering as she casts her patronus charm and demands for it to find Albus Dumbledore.

It takes less than a minute for a reply. Though it's not in the shape of the headmaster.

Mad Eye Moody suddenly apparates into the kitchen of Grimmauld place, appearance haggard as he pants and gathers himself. The room is still, even Harry has silenced his babbling and is now staring at the auror.

The wizard meets Phoebe's eyes, his expression twisting in pain. Not physical. No, this pain was worse. This pain was the twisting knife of telling someone that their loved one was dead. He barely even glances at Remus, and Phoebe knows that someone hasn't survived. She knows it before anyone else. Her throat bobs and she shudders, whispering, "James, take the baby."

James looks at her in confusion, the tension in the room increasing as he takes his son into his arms and the Veela faces her fellow being. Her friend. Remus blinks at her, face confused for a few horrible moments.

And then realization dawns on him.

He shakes his head, and Phoebe's heart aches at the appearance of her friend, the one that had been scared to admit he wasn't that different from her, scared to admit that what was different, was who he had fallen in love with.

Remus Lupin sucks in air like it's water and he's been dying of thirst, his eyes wide and feral as he croaks, "No. No, no, no."

"Remus," Phoebe murmurs, wincing when his voice only grows louder, shouts of despair bouncing off the hollow walls, "No! Dammit, I said no! Phoebe, I said no!"

"Remus," She pleads, wishing desperately that her charm would work on him enough to o soothe him. But he's frantic, hands subconsciously scratching at himself as he finally cracks down the middle and wails, "No! He's okay! He has to be okay!"

Phoebe bands her arms around him, struggles to hold on, to restrain his self punishing acts as he curls inward and begs and cries and shouts obscenities.

Gideon Prewett, half of the Gryffindor jokesters. The boy that smelled of cinnamon and held laughter in the palm of his hands. Gideon Prewett, the boy that has broadened his horizons, had showed Remus that he could too. That their love was nothing to feel guilt or shame over.

That their love was special.

Gideon Prewett was dead.

And a piece of Remus Lupin had died with him.

{{okay so I'm mad too. Because this story does have to progress, and no, I don't want to kill everyone. But I also love the original story. If it makes you feel better, in the alternate ending that I swear I am writing, Gideon is not dead! But this still made me cry}}