The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

You drive me crazy

"What made you think that was a good idea?!" James shouts, pacing back and forth as best he can in the small bathroom.

"I told you! I needed to get something, and the shop owners were watching out for me. I was perfectly fine, Potter!"

James huffs angrily, raking both hands through his hair. He scowls when she pokes her head out from behind the curtain and still looks dirty, not a hair on her head wet.

"It's a shower. You're meant to fucking clean yourself."

"You just told me to get in," Phoebe says smugly. "You didn't tell me I had to actually shower."

"Oh you little—" James says lowly, unable to even formulate a proper response. She drove him absolutely mad.

"Fine," He bites out, ripping off his coat and sweater. He kicks off his shoes and socks while grumbling crossly, leaving him in just his undershirt and jeans.Phoebe squawks loudly as he tears the curtain back and climbs in.

"James!" She shrieks, going to cover herself. He ignores her, reaching behind her and picking up the shower head. She splutters as he sprays her,

"WH-WHAT IN THE FUCK!!!"

James continues to spray her until she's soaking wet and dirty water drips down the side of her face. Phoebe stares at him, completely shocked.

"What is your problem?!"

"My problem is that you are reckless! Careless!" His voice comes out hoarse, choked up as he finishes,

"My problem is that there are people there that want to kill you."

Phoebe blinks up at him, watching as he turns his face away from her with a sour look twisting his face. Guilt pierces her gut.

"James...I—"

"You could have disappeared. Forever."

His voice is defeated, thick with emotion. He grimaces and reaches out, scrubbing away the dirt from her face, a painful reminder of the danger she'd been in. She stands silently as he strokes the dust and grime off of her face. When his hand falls she whispers,

"I'm okay. Nothing bad happened."

"How did you get that cut?"

Phoebe blushes and looks away, admitting, "I fell."

James smiles faintly at her confession and asks with relief in his voice, "Really?"

She nods, flushed with embarrassment. She turns her eyes back to him and grabs the hem of his soaked shirt. Carefully, she peels it off of him and tosses it out of the shower. James stares down at her solemnly, still clearly upset.

"Just....hold me," Phoebe offers, unbuckling his pants. James continues to stare, just raising his foot one after the other when she pulls off his jeans and the rest of the clothing separating them.

"Hold me," She insists, grabbing his arm. He lashes out, quicker than lighting, and grabs her close. Their bare and soaked skin makes contact and James chokes out a shaky breath, bending to kiss the top of her head. Phoebe hugs him fiercely, her arms like iron around him.

"Don't do that again," James mumbles against her wet hair, eyes shut tight. Phoebe presses a gentle kiss to his chest and whispers, "I won't. I promise."

He feels pressure behind his eyes, signaling tears. He pushes them away, holding her impossibly tighter. She was okay. She was here.

"What did you get?" James asks quietly, running his hands down the length of her spine. His knuckle brushes against each vertebrae, like he's cataloguing every part of her for injuries.

"A bag with an undetectable extension charm."

He pulls back and looks at her with a surprised smile on his face. She smirks mischievously and shrugs, muttering,

"I needed it for my gifts. And Merlin knows I'll never get the ministry to give one over."

"You're a little minx, Phoebe Griffin."

She flushes and rolls her eyes, turning in his grip to grab her shampoo she'd placed in the shower the night before. James slips it from her hands and pours the lavender smelling soap into his hands. He lathers it in her hair, chuckling as a content sigh escapes her. She leans back against his chest, eyes fluttering close at the feeling of James washing her hair.

He relishes the feeling of her pearly hair between his fingers, smiling when she turns to face him, eyes still closed. He continues massaging her scalp, leaning down to gently pepper kisses across her now clean face. The fear gripping his heart slowly takes its leave as he leans her back and washes the soap from her hair. Phoebe opens her eyes to stare at him, gesturing for him to bend down. He smirks and does as she asks, bending his neck and laughing when she stands on her toes to reach his hair.

She grins and runs her soapy hands through his usually floppy hair, murmuring, "You're going to smell like a girl."

"I'm going to smell like you," He replies softly, smiling and running his hands down her sides. Their touches are gentle, chaste. They savor the time spent in the steamy shower, their own little bubble of safety and warmth.

When James had finished washing and caressing her wet skin, he reaches behind her and shuts the water off. He climbs out first, wrapping a towel around his waist. Phoebe grins when he slides the curtain back and shamelessly stares at her, drinking her in from head to toe.

"James," She says warningly, reaching for the towel in his hands.

"Just a moment longer," He pleads, holding the cloth out of her reach. She smiles knowingly and nods, letting him look. She sees only love and admiration in his eyes, and it makes her feel invincible. Until the fear is back, plain as day.

"You can't put yourself in danger like you did today. It will obliterate me if you..."

He can't even finish his words, his throat locking up before he can get it out. Die. If she dies, leaves him. It would ruin him. He helps her out of the shower and wraps the towel around her tightly, avoiding her grey eyes that he knows can see right through him.

"I told you, Potter. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiles up at him softly, standing on her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

"I love you," He mumbles, smiling slightly.

"I love you," She replies firmly, meaning it with every atom in her being. She wasn't going anywhere, because she loved him.

"Cmon," James says playfully. "Let's get out of here before I fuck you up against the sink."

"James!" She gasps at his lewd words, blushing furiously. He winks and smacks her bum, making her jump and hurry out of the bathroom, cursing him loudly.

"You're a fucking—"

She stops short, eyes widening. There, standing with her arms crossed is Mia Potter, Sirius nearby with a cheeky grin on his face.