The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Done

{{please don't hate me}}

Tears are still drying on her face when she finally scurries up the path that leads to her mother's house.

She quickly opens the door, calling out nervously,

"James?"

She doesn't get a reply, her heart sinking in her chest. She hesitates before tip toeing to the kitchen. He's still where she left him, hovering in front of the table where he'd made love to her earlier.

Phoebe stares at James' hunched back, her heart in her throat at the obvious tension there.

The house is quiet. Cold.

"James, I-"

"Where have you been?"

His voice is alarmingly calm. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps erupt on her arms.

"Out."

As soon as the word leaves her mouth she wants to take it back. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the truth. But she can't say it. She can't tell him. She absolutely could not tell him where she'd been. And who she'd been with.

His hand slams down on the table, sounding like thunder in the echoing room. His empty tea cup rattles from the close contact and Phoebe jumps at the noise, her hand flying to her chest. She can feel her heart thumping wildly against her palm.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"  His voice is still dangerously soft, raspy and hoarse like he'd been yelling.

Guilt. Yes, Phoebe was feeling a whole lot of that right now.

"I didn't ask for that," She replies, trying hard to sound strong. It comes out flat, far more unappreciative than she wants it to.

James scoffs and lifts his head to look at her over his shoulder. What she sees is painfully heartbreaking. His eyes are bloodshot behind his crooked glasses, dried and fresh tracks of tears adorning his cheeks. She wants to go to him, touch him. But her feet are frozen to the ground. She feels like she's been petrified.

James wipes his face on the back of his hand and turns to face her completely. He crosses his arms and studies her for a few silent moments before asking again,

"Where were you?"

"I told you, I was out."

His jaw ticks and he grinds out,

"If you don't tell me where you were right now, I swear—"

"What?!" Phoebe cries exasperatedly, throwing her hands into the air. "You swear what, James?"

"Dammit, Phoebe! Tell me!" He shouts, rage finally spilling out from where he'd kept it locked down. Where he'd been stuffing fear and worry and unbridled anger.

"Regulus!" Phoebe finally stutters out, flinching at his volume. "I was with Regulus!"

Her confession hangs in the room for a few silent moments. James stares at her blankly, a disbelieving laugh escaping his clenched teeth.

"Regulus," He bites out. He can't keep looking at her. When he looks at her, his resolve is weakened. And he's so fucking mad. He needs to be mad. Because he's finished crying.

"You are the most selfish person I know."

His words hit her like a bludger, knocking the wind from her chest. Her body begins to shut down. Her throat tightens, her palms start to sweat.

"I had to see him," Phoebe says shakily. "Hes a child and He's alone. He's scared. He's going to die."

"HES A FUCKING DEATH EATER!" James roars, hands flying to his hair. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that this whole time she hadn't been lying somewhere dead like he'd worried. She'd been with someone that was dangerous, could make her disappear without a trace. She'd done exactly as he'd asked her not to when they joined the Order.

"Do not yell at me!" She shouts in reply, tears welling up in her eyes. The Veela was exhausted, spent emotionally and physically. But she was never one to back down from a fight.

"You willingly put yourself in danger. You've put yourself in avoidable situations time and time again, just so you'll feel like you've done something. I've asked you so many times..."

"He needed me," Phoebe reasons, voice wavering. Was he right? Was she doing this for herself?

"I need you," James says brokenly. "I need you. But you don't care about that. You care about a boy that would rather see you dead than sacrifice himself!!!"

"That's not—"

"He stood by and watched, Phoebe! He watched them Crucio you! He could have done something, could have called for help. You said you were going to be safer! You promised!"

Phoebe clenches her eyes, memories flooding her at his words. Crucio. She can't think about the pain she'd felt. The pain he'd witnessed her feeling. Because she will break.

"Please," She begs, walking closer and reaching for his arm. Her heart cracks down the middle when he twists away, backing away from her and her seeking hand.

James stands a step away from her, sliding his hand down his face underneath his glasses. He was so tired. Tired of worrying. Tired of fighting her over something he thought was so simple.

"Why can't you just trust me?" Phoebe croaks. "I can protect myself and decide who is of risk to me."

James looks over her head, staring off into space so he won't lose his footing. He so easily can slip back into her calming aura. It's happened before. She'd explained this to him before. The letter to Regulus, the kinship she felt. Saying that he saved her not once, not twice. But three times.

It's too much. His chest is caving in. She'd promised.

"I can't do this anymore."

Phoebe recoils like she's been slapped, her lips parting with a sharp exhaled breath that she'd been holding.

"I can't be with someone that is so reckless, careless with their own life. I am haunted by you, Phoebe Griffin. You are my greatest fear realized."

Every word is like a punch to the gut. She stands, stunned, while James begins to move. He grabs his wand and coat and starts walking away, turning his back on the woman he loves. He's almost out of the kitchen when Phoebe realizes what is happening. And she panics,

"I was saying goodbye, James! I'm not going to see him again!!"

He keeps walking, every step feeling heavier and heavier as he makes his way to the door.

"You said you were going to marry me," She says quietly. Her next words are louder, angry and fearful as James continues on,

"You said if there was one thing that you would never do it was break up with me!!"

His hand freezes on the door knob, his heart like stone at the sound of her broken voice. He swallows roughly, forcing out hoarse and depressing words,

"We've both said things we don't mean."

He slams the door shut behind him, leaving her to stare tearfully at the spot where he'd been standing. She wants to yell and scream, a gaping hole in her chest where he's just ripped out her heart.

But she can only weep silently, regret consuming her being as she realizes she's just lost two people instead of one.