The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Fleamont

{{currently crying. Really sorry guys}}

Phoebe stands uncomfortably in the kitchen, pretending not to listen as Madeye instructs Fabian, Sirius, James, and Marlene on what their plan is.

Remus comes to stand next to her, muttering lowly,

"You're a dirty girl, Phoebe Griffin."

Her eyes widen and she quickly glances at Remus. She hadn't talked to a single person since her tryst with James in the bathroom the day before. She'd locked herself up at her mother's cottage, screaming senseless nonsense into her pillow while she cried. Frustrated. That's what she was. Only now it wasn't just emotional.

"Shut up, Remus. I heard all about your shagging session that Fabian walked in on," She grumbles irritably.

The normally soft spoken boy just laughs and replies, "Yeah but the whole Order didn't hear me shagging. I think Dumbledore almost had a stroke."

Phoebe flushes a deep red and elbows her friend harshly in the side. She'd forgotten about the Order. She couldn't stay here, not with James glancing at her every five seconds or Marlene's knowing smile. She was suffocating.

"I'm leaving," She says firmly.

"Pheebs, I didn't mean—"

She silences Remus quickly, whispering to him sadly, "It's not you. I'll be back."

The kitchen is quiet when she moves to leave. She hovers in the doorway, hesitating before she turns to the group. She looks at Sirius and Marlene, trying desperately to ignore James. Her eyes briefly flicker to him before she says quietly,

"Restez en sécurité."

James watches as she disappears down the hall, finally exhaling the breath he's been holding since she left him in the bathroom yesterday.

Sirius grunts, "You guys are gross. Fucking in my house. My mother's portrait screamed at me for an hour yesterday thanks to you."

"She's not the only one that was screaming," Marlene says suggestively, earning a disgusted look from Sirius while James turns beet red.

Fabian snickers, opening his mouth to chime in but James quickly interrupts,

"Can we go?"

Madeye nods—hiding a smirk of his own at the boys obvious embarrassment—before they all join hands and apparate away, moments after Phoebe had done the same.

Hours after Phoebe left Grimmauld place, she decided to apparate again.

The Veela wasn't sure why she came here. Maybe it was because she was worried. There was a growing pit in her stomach that left her terrified that her friends were going to die. That Sirius and Marlene and Fabian would be turned to dust. That she would never see James again.

She was nervous to knock on the door, but she did it anyway, waiting silently.

Nothing.

She knocked again. Still nothing. It was odd, because she knew they were meant to be home during this time of night. She hesitates before opening the front door and peering inside.

"Mia?" She calls out quietly, her brows furrowed at the dim light of the house. She steps inside, closing the door quietly behind her. Something isn't right here. Something is off. She draws her wand, slowly moving forward. She jumps when a voice calls out,

"Phoebe? Is that you?"

The Veela clutches her chest, sighing as her heart races against her palm. She follows where the sound came from saying playfully,

"Jeez, Monty. Do you have to—"

She stops short, her blood freezing at the sight of what awaits her in the living room. Fleamont Potter looks up at her calmly from his place on the couch. Sitting next to him is Euphemia. Was Euphemia. Her skin is pale and dull, her eyes closed gently. She looks peaceful, as if she were just taking a nap. Phoebe expects her hazel eyes to open and a brilliant smile to warm her cold face. She expects happy tears and laughter and hugs.

"It happened just a while ago. I couldn't bring myself to..." The old wizard trails off, his voice raw. Tears have left his sallow cheeks wet. Phoebe slowly approaches, taking a seat on the coffee table positioned in front of the couch where Fleamont sits with his lifeless wife. He raises his shaking hand and coughs into a handkerchief.

Phoebe can feel the tears rolling down her cheeks. Mia Potter. The mother she'd never had. Gone from this world and on to the next. She reaches out and takes the limp hand that Fleamont isn't holding, her shoulders shaking as she silently weeps. More hoarse coughing disturbs Phoebe's desperate wishing that Mia would wake up.

"Monty," Phoebe whispers, finally letting go of Mia's hand. "We have to get you some help."

He nods once, smiling tiredly as he says, "I don't want to leave her."

"I know," Phoebe replies tearfully. "I don't either. We won't. We're going to bring her with us to St. Mungo's. Okay?"

He nods again, confirming that he's heard her. Phoebe isn't sure how best to do this. She's never done this before. Traveled with a sick man and his dead wife. Should they floo? Or find a port key?

"Apparating is fine, Phoebe," Fleamont voices quietly, having noticed her momentary panic. She smiles quickly and nods, picturing St. Mungo's as she grasps Fleamont and Mia's hands tightly.

When they land, Phoebe finds herself supporting the weight of both Fleamont and Mia, her voice scratchy when she screams,

"Help! I need help!"

Nurses and Healers come flying to where she's standing, Phoebe's heart beating wildly at Fleamont's dazed look. He was exhausted. So tired. Phoebe tries desperately to follow as he and Mia are quickly taken away.

"Please," Phoebe sobs, the weight of what is happening finally hitting her. She weeps, trying to push past the Healer holding onto her. "Please. They're my family. I can't leave them."

"Miss, you have to wait here. We're going to help, just please wait here!" The healer insists, guiding her to a chair in the hallway.

Phoebe doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what comes next. She closes her eyes, thinking of Christmas morning. Thinking of Fleamont and Mia sharing secret looks with her while James and Sirius bickered and wrestled. She pictures hugging them tightly after she'd opened her priceless gifts. The book she'd always wanted. The wind chimes to protect her. Her heart feels weak as she whispers,

"Expecto Patronum."