The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Discretion

{{thank you for being so patient! Again—my updates will happen mondays, Tuesday's, or fridays. When I get into a better routine hopefully I can be consistent and more frequent. I also didn't edit again so....forgive me!!}}

Phoebe groans when she wakes, instantly irritated at having been roused from sleep.

"Psst! Pheebs!"

She cracks one eye open and finds James still awake. Carefully she rolls over to face the door, her brow furrowing at Sirius' face smushed between the door and the frame. He's just barely poking his head inside, eyes wide and smile hopeful. His smile grows when she whispers back grumpily,

"Fuck off."

"Come on! I want to do something fun!"

Sirius knows her well enough to read her, just as she knows him. He smirks when her eyebrow raised the tiniest bit higher. He had her interest. He continues, insisting, "We haven't done shit since Fenwick died! I'm tired of being scared!"

Phoebe hesitates, glancing sideways at her sleeping husband. Sirius whispers, "we'll be back before he wakes up! Let's just get some air at least. I'm tired of being yelled at by Kreacher."

"Fine!" Phoebe whisper yells, grunting as she tries to climb out of bed. She snaps at her chuckling friend, demanding, "Help me up!"

Her bump was growing, leaving her feeling unbalanced and strange. Bending over was beginning to be a challenge. As was getting out of bed.

Sirius tiptoes over and grabs her hands, hoisting her upright. They both freeze as James lets out a loud snore and shifts slightly in his sleep. Phoebe winces and carefully walks over to her closet. Sirius waits just outside for her to get dressed, a smile playing at his lips when she appears, her bump on display underneath her blue sweater. She carefully shuts the door behind her, asking quietly, "Where are we going then?"

"Diagon Alley," Sirius replies, waving aside her worried look. He grabs her arm and says firmly, "We're staying far away from Knockturn Alley. We'll be safe."

Phoebe tries desperately to not picture the pink mist that Benjy Fenwick turned to last time she was near Diagon Alley. She'd be with Sirius. They would be fine. He helps her shrug into her leather jacket before pulling on his own and guiding her out of Grimmauld Place.

He taps his wand against what looks like a decaying tricycle, a proud smile on his face as it grows and warms and expands to turn into his motorcycle. The Veela grins, teasing, "You're lucky a little kid hasn't stolen it."

"Ah," Sirius tuts. "I put a protective spell on it. If a muggle tries to touch it, they get shocked."

"Sirius!" Phoebe scolds, biting back laughter as he helps her into the side car. He climbs onto the bike and then they're off, flying up into the sky. Phoebe breathes in the dew that rolls off the morning clouds. It takes them surprisingly little time to get to Diagon Alley.

The only tricky part is parking.

"Merde, Sirius!!! Just—"

"Shut it, Phoebe!! I'm trying!!"

He slams the bike into the lamppost again, jarring the both of them. Sirius finally throws his hands in the air and removes the key from the ignition. Phoebe looks at him like he's grown another head, asking incredulously, "You're just going to leave it here?!"

It's wedged precariously between crates and the lamppost, a dent already marring the front of the bike. It clearly wasn't his first time hitting something. He shrugs and says haughtily, "Vous voulez essayer?!"

Phoebe mutters irritably as she climbs from the side car, biting back a laugh when Sirius runs over to help her. She swats his hands away and asks pointedly, "Are you going to tell me what we're really here for now?"