The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

The Potters

{{hello hello! Sorry I didn't update yesterday—the last few chapters were emotionally draining and I needed a break! This is a bit of a filler. Hopefully you guys aren't bored of the wedding stuff! <3 Enjoy!}}

Phoebe and James stare at each other, grinning silently like crazy people. If someone walked in she was certain they'd be sent to St. Mungos.

"Quit that," Phoebe finally laughs, the first to look away. They had a brief moment to themselves. Their first moments alone as husband and wife. They were to stay in a smaller tent while the main one was switched over for the reception, the only things in this one were a small table with champagne and two chairs. Neither of them moved to sit or drink. Not now.

James smirks and teases, "Quit what, Potter?"

Phoebe flushes and swats at his chest, muttering, "Quit looking at me."

"I'm never going to quit looking at you. You're stuck with me now, Bee."

Phoebe laughs and nod, reaching up to kiss his smiling lips. She frowns when he takes a step back, shaking his head.

"Don't tell me you're already tired of me," She teases, quirking a brow at him. She grows warm under his gaze, feeling slightly shy as his smirk deepens. Her heart flutters when he says huskily,

"Let me look at you. For real."

Her breath catches in her throat, voice embarrassingly airy as she replies, "You are looking at me, love."

James chuckles lowly, starting at the bottom of her pretty dress and tracing the shine and seams all the way up to where the top hints at her collar bones. Phoebe flushes when he lifts his finger and moves it in a circle. He wanted her to spin. She smiles coyly, but does as he says, slowly turning for her husband.

James let's out a quiet curse, whispering, "Fucking hell."

His eyes again start at the bottom of the fabric, this time following the line of small white buttons. He swallows roughly when he sees how perfectly the fabric clings to her, the way it cowls and drapes slightly just where it opens up. He can see a hint of the dimples that sit at the base of her spine, eyes hungrily raking in the wide expanse of smooth skin.

He's embarrassed to admit that his blood is rushing south, his pants growing tighter. His wife. In a dress that he wanted to both savor her in and tear in half to finally get to her the way he wants. He swears again when Phoebe looks over her shoulder, her smile knowing and her eyes playful as she wonders,

"Well? What do you think?"

"I think you're an evil minx," James groans, closing the distance between them. He pulls her back to his front, his palms splaying across her abdomen as he kisses her over her shoulder. He reluctantly removes his lips from hers, instead sliding them down the bumps of her vertebrae and chuckling when she shivers at the contact.

Phoebe reaches behind her back and swats at him, warning, "J, there's no time for that."

James groans, gliding his teeth across her shoulder blade. No time. They had all of the time in the world. But just not right now. He sighs and takes a step back, eyes still glued longingly to her inviting skin.

Phoebe turns to face him and grabs his hand, saying happily, "Come on, let's go dance."

James' eyes grow soft and he nods, leaning down to gently fit his lips to hers. She playfully nips his lower lip, fighting back laughter when he lets out a husky groan, his hands warming her skin. She pulls away first, grabbing his hand in hers.

James smiles and they begin to walk back into the larger tent, just in time to here Lee Jordan crow,

"It is my greatest pleasure to welcome the lovely, sexy, magical, Mr. and Mrs. James Potter!!"

Phoebe can't help but laugh, James waving and bowing to the cheering crowd. Phoebe raises her free hand to her face, stunned by the volume of love she feels for these people. Maybe she'd always felt it, or maybe James just had to show her how.

"Let's see if James can keep from tripping his beautiful wife. Witches and Gentlewizards, some applause for our first dance of the night!"

More cheers erupt as James guides Phoebe to the dance floor. She reminds herself to thank Alice, stunned by how beautifully the tent has transformed into a place where people can eat freely and dance as they want and talk to those they may have missed.

James winks down at her, setting one of his hands on her waist and grabbing her right with his. They begin to move as music the music plays, Phoebe unable to wipe the smile off her face as she says,

"This is a terrible idea."

James quirks a brow before spinning her, his heart swelling at the laugh that bubbles up from her chest.

"What's a bad idea, love?" He wonders cheekily, his hand sliding from her waist to her back that teases him with the promise of something more. She rolls her eyes and reaches back, moving his hand higher to a more appropriate zone.

"Dancing. I can't help my charm that way, Potter." She groans glancing over his shoulder to see that many of the men in the room look flustered and are staring at them. Even Madeye has flushed cheeks and is trying desperately to keep his eyes on the ceiling. She feels a twinge of guilt and considers stopping.

But James just shrugs, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Let them stare. Nothings taking this moment from us, P. Not even drooling Fenwick."

Phoebe smiles reluctantly but nods and moves closer to him, resting their joined hands on his chest and leaning her forehead against his. She doesn't stop him when his hand slides back down to her lower back, just laughs quietly when the tips of his fingers dip below the fabric and he curses.

"Bloody hell," James mutters, joining their lips for a quick kiss that sends tingles up her spine. She smiles when he slowly pulls back, grumbling, "How long do these weddings usually last?"

"Eager to get me alone?" Phoebe teases, squeezing his hand as he dips her and replies easily, "Just eager to get you naked."

Phoebe flushed and shakes her head. James pulls her back upright and they continue to sway until the song ends, his hand lingering on her back and her smile lingering on her face.

She knew he'd like it.