The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

What now

James tries desperately to clear his mind of the cloud of lust and happiness. He's dazed from her lips, her tongue. He wants more. He needs more. She's sweet and sexy and standing right here in front of him. Three kisses with her is not enough. Phone however stares at the boy in shock, Her mind blank. her hands drop from his back where she still held him.

"I'm sorry. You smelled what?"

"You," James said softly, his mouth quirked in a half smile. "Lavender, the breeze that comes off the sea. your cigarettes. You."

Phoebe's mind races, lingering on her lavender shampoo and her addiction to the ocean and nicotine. As a distant cousin of mermaids, the water was her birthright. As a French woman, so was smoking. Phoebe suddenly frowns and shakes her head, whispering,

"You don't fancy me. You're just confused."

James rears his head back in surprise, eyes confused. "What are you on about now?!"

Self doubt floods the Veela. She's delt with boys only fancying her temporarily her whole life. But she couldn't handle that from James. Phoebe avoids looking into his eyes as she says, "James, you think you fancy me because of what I am."

James scowls and shakes his head, saying angrily, "Do not say that to me. Don't treat me like fucking Justin Cinderford or Gideon Prewett or any other bloke that just stares and drools over you because you're...well you!"

Phoebe sighs, deciding half heartedly not to resist when his strong fingers grip her chin and turn her back to face him. Her heart breaks when she looks into James' eyes because he looks so sincere. And she's so unsure. So scared.

"You still owe me answers to my questions," James says softly, eyes mapping her face to commit it to his memory. He could feel her pulling away from him, making herself small. He wants to know why she won't acknowledge that there is something here. There was something as soon as they'd kissed last term, or maybe even before.

"I can't do this," Phoebe whispers, shaking her head. "I can't deal with you only liking me because I am made to trap men. And then to be tossed aside. I can't take that from you."

"Why is it so hard to believe that I might fancy you?"

"Because. You hated me less than a year ago. We hated each other. If you were anything beyond being lured in by my dna we wouldn't have hated each other like that."

James frowns and shakes his head, staring firmly, "I have never hated you, Phoebe Griffin. I'm constantly challenged by you, pissed at you-"

Phoebe goes to interrupt but he holds up a hand. He continues cheekily, "Especially when you interrupt me. You're the most stubborn, witty, and difficult person I know. It's part of the reason I like you so much."

Phoebe closes her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks. She's so touched by his words, but they hurt. Because she can't even begin to comprehend a world where a man will want her for more than a quick snog for good luck. But she could finally admit to herself that she wanted James for far more than that.

"And I don't know what your crazy family has been telling you, because you were not made to trap men. You were made for so much more, Pheebs. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way we all see you," James pleads, his hands cupping her neck. He uses his thumbs to tilt up her chin so she's looking right at him.

James knows what needs to be done, even though he so desperately wishes that they could just dive into a relationship. He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I'm not asking for anything from you. Just that you'll try to understand that I fancy you for reasons beyond your blood."

Phoebe tries so hard to believe him. She wants to believe that James Potter likes her, fancies her even. But when she compares herself to his past infatuations, all she can see that's different is her status as a Veela. The only thing stopping her from an outright no is the hopefulness on his face. Because even if he is just entranced, it will hurt him to hear 'no'

"Be patient with me," Phoebe says faintly, feeling electricity shoot up her spine from every stroke of the boy's thumbs.

James nods and knows that the time has come to let go. So he does, feeling pain tug at his heart strings as he releases her and steps back. Giving her physical and emotional space. He knew this wouldn't be easy, just like it wasn't easy for Sirius to accept that there are people in the world that will love him no matter what. James struggled for nearly two years before Sirius caved and realized that he had found a family. James could only hope it wouldn't take Phoebe that long...

"I'm willing to wait," James says gently, smirking down at her. Phoebe relaxes a little at his familiar smile. She grins slightly and scoffs playfully, "Please, Potter. You'll get bored of me quick. Just wait and see."

"Care to wager on that, Miss Griffin?"

Phoebe quirks a brow and nods, firmly believe it when she says, "I'll bet you ten galleons that you'll have a plucky new girlfriend by the end of the year."

James smirks inwardly at the potential double meaning. If he had anything to do with it, he would have a girlfriend. Sooner than the end of the year. And one with silvery blond hair and eyes that remind him of the winter sky. He lets out a little chuckle and says,

"You're on, Griffin."