The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Marauders

James anxiously pats down his hair, sighing at the way it instantly returns to its unruly state.

His mother had always tried to tame his hair. Not even his father's potion did the trick.

James smiles slightly at the thought of his parents. There's a twist of pain, like a dagger to the heart. But something so sweet soothing the sting. Because he knows they are proud. He can feel it in his bones.

They'd loved Phoebe, that much was certain. And as much as he wants them to be here, as badly as he wants his mum to walk him up the aisle and his dad to wink at him from his seat, he knows that this is okay. That he's okay.

"It's a shame you need the bloody glasses,"

James looks up in the mirror, grinning at his best mate. Sirius smirks, leaning against the doorway in his dark grey suit. Phoebe had insisted they not wear black because it wasn't a funeral, and while he and the rest of the Marauders weren't sure what 'charcoal grey' was, they were happy to oblige.

James turns and faces his friend, breathing out, "Fucking hell, Padfoot."

Sirius chuckles, reaching up to straighten James' tie. James smiles to himself, wondering when Sirius had taken on the way his mother used to stick out her tongue while concentrating. She and Fleamont were here. If only in the ways Sirius moves his eyebrows and smiles, James often doing the same. Their parents would be proud of him too.

"Nervous?" Sirius asks, quirking a brow at James. He laughs when James rapidly shakes his head, snorting out a reply, "Nervous? I've been dreaming of this day since I took Griffin to Hogsmeade our 6th year. A date that you tried to interrupt."

Sirius wrinkles his nose at the memory of them snogging, grunting, "Don't remind me. That was terrible."

"James seemed to enjoy it,"

They both turn to see Remus and Peter waiting expectantly in their same grey dress robes. Remus pulls at the wrist awkwardly, obviously missing his earth toned sweaters. Peter looks rather content though, if not a little anxious.

"Remember when James first saw Phoebe?" Remus asks, voice playful. Sirius snickers and nods, adding, "Or when he almost punched us all because we'd snogged her and he hadn't?"

"What about when Moony dared him to finally snog her? Prongs looked like he was going to cry!" Remus snorts, dodging James' swinging hands.

"Oi," James finally cries, "That's plenty! We get it—James is a dummy."

The three other Marauders nod in unison, making James roll his eyes. They stand in comfortable silence for a minute. Boys turned to men. Sirius finally claps James on the shoulder and says warmly,

"I'm gonna go get our girl. I'll see you down there, Prongs."

He turns to Remus and Peter, warning, "Kick his ass down to the aisle if you have to."

James again rolls his eyes, grinning when his best mate just winks and apparates away.

James feels a rush of excitement, asking Remus happily, "Can we go now?"

Remus chuckles and pulls out his pocket watch. He nods once and grabs onto James and Peter before disapparating.

They land in the fields next to the Burrow and James has to fight everything in him to not high tail it over there and see his future wife.

Remus pats him on the back sympathetically. He grins as he gestures towards the white tent in front of them, "Cmon, Prongs. Let's see what Alice has been stressing over for a week."

James laughs and nods, following Remus and Peter inside of the tent. He's stunned into silence, immediately impressed by Alice Longbottom. It's perfectly warm inside despite a few open panels, the walls and ceiling draped in white fabric that looks like clouds. He smiles at the floating candles, reminded of the Great Hall and Hogwarts.

It's simple. Perfect. Greens and greys and light purples that he knows smell like her. Lavender. James bites back a smile at the altar waiting for him with pretty white flowers and twining greenery. Molly quickly appears in front of him, saying warmly, "Just in time, loves! She'll be ready in just a few, so if you and Remus and Peter want to walk up there go right ahead."

Gideon and Fabian race by, earning an indignant squawk from Molly before she chases off after them, leaving James and the two Marauders to their own devices.

As they walk up the aisle, James recognizes members of the order, members of the ministry. He spots Professor Sprout and Professor Kettleburn chatting happily, eyes lingering on Madam Pomfrey talking animatedly with Professor Flitwick.

James nods his head at Benjy Fenwick, grins at Arthur Weasley and Frank Longbottom. He even sees Alastor Moody sitting at the back, casting nervous glances towards the open parts of the tent. Always planning his escape.

Lee Jordan waves to him before he's shoved aside my the still running Prewett twins and their irate sister. James' heart softens at Bill and Charlie Weasley sitting properly in the second row. They both gasp excitedly when they see James, waving to him rapidly.

He waves back before finally facing foreword. He has to bite back a mischievous smile at the familiar black hat in front of him.

James finally steps up onto the altar and joins the friendly face, smirking despite his attempts not to.

Minerva McGonagall.

She scowls at the three Marauders, muttering, "It's about time, Potter." 

James laughs, Remus and Peter taking their spots behind him. Their old head of house had been the obvious choice to wed them, no questions about it. She'd seen them through the best and worst of Hogwarts, through James' misguided pining for Lily, to escorting drunk Phoebe and Sirius from the Astronomy tower. To watching James and Phoebe finally find each other. And while she wouldn't likely admit it, she was flattered that they'd asked her to be the officiant.

And very very proud of her students.

Her scowl softens into a smile when James gently grabs her hand, giving it a squeeze and saying sincerely,

"Thank you, Minerva."

She blinks back tears at the sincerity in his eyes. No longer a boy, a student. A man. A husband. She nods once and responds quietly, "Of course, James. It's an honor."

James grins and pecks her cheek, snickering when she frowns and swats him away, her disgruntled frown back.

He turns to face the entry at the opposite end of the aisle. She was close. He could feel it. His heart beats faster and his smile grows when the cello he gave her for Christmas that Remus had so brilliantly charmed begins to play on its own.

Almost time.

Finally.