The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Death

Phoebe stares out at the yard, her eyes following her son as he wobbles on two feet for just a moment.

James swoops him up into his arms, and she can tell he says something silly. Probably moronic. Because Harry is laughing, his little hands stretched out wide towards the sky. James does it too, reaches his hand up and cups it so that it looks like he's holding a cloud.

The wind was changing, colder and unforgiving. It rustles the turning leaves, and Phoebe feels it. That sensation of dread, the way it seized her lungs and keeps her from breathing. Not because she's anticipating it. It.

Death.

"Pheebs."

She doesn't tear her eyes away from her son and her husband, her fingers grasping the edge of the sink. She swallows past the lump in her throat, replying quietly, "I know. Just a little while longer, Lily."

"You have to tell him. Sirius—"

Phoebe finally turns, the image of her red headed friend blurred. She wipes at her tears angrily, "Sirius is a disaster and we can't help him. You think that I don't know this, Lily?"

Lily is crying too, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Phoebe exhales shakily, standing there for a few moments before voicing the words she'd been biting down on for nearly a week,

"Marlene was the best of us."

"I know," Lily whispers, shaking her head, "I know."

The letter that Phoebe had received from Albus Dumbledore lay hidden beneath her side of the mattress in their grey bedroom. Reading it felt worse than hearing it would have. Because there was no comfort in words. No softness. No timidness.

Marlene McKinnon. One of her very best friends. Loud mouthed, kind hearted. Her greatest defender at school.

Death had finally called for her as well.

The words burnt into the backs of her eyes so that even when she slept she could still see them. Dead. Marlene. Her family. Her brothers she used to complain about. Dead. And worse than that, was knowing that Sirius was slowly dying because of it.

And Phoebe could do nothing.

She could only sit. Wait. Anticipate. Because deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time. She could only hope that her choice of secret keeper would save Sirius from anymore hurt and that one day soon, she could see him. See his grief. She saw him always.

"I think I'm scared, Lily."

Lily Evans had always been the wise one, the level headed one. The grief of losing Fabian had only left her sharper. She looked tired, but her green eyes betrayed how much fight she had left in her.

Phoebe quickly reaches out and grabs her arm, squeezing as she looks into the truthful green eyes before her. She sucks in a shaky breath and whispers, "Harry. You have to protect Harry."

Her brows furrow and Phoebe offers a weak smile, "He's playing chess, Lils. And I don't think that Albus is winning."

Lily's eyes grow round and Phoebe shakes her head, glancing back out the window to see James pulling Harry's hat down over his ears. Merlin, her heart. There it was, out in the green grass and playing in the orange leaves. Her heart, no longer in her chest, but having taken the shape of two boys with messy chocolate hair and joyous laughter.

"You've been practicing your fire?"

Phoebe looks down at her wrist that Lily has in her own hand. The pink skin is slightly raised, textured and warm to the touch. She hadn't needed it in months. She was afraid. She was terrified. She smiles weakly at Lily and nods. Her friend sighs and shakes her head, murmuring, "I'm scared too. It feels like he's taking out the pillars, Pheebs. He's killing the people that keep us upright, that keep us hopeful. I-I don't know what's next."