The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Room of Requirement

{{okay it's almost here! Next chapter gets *steamy* so I have to encourage those of you that are too young to not read it. I just have to put that warning out there!!}}

Phoebe strolled down the hallway, humming quietly to herself. It was after curfew, but she didn't really care. He conversation with Regulus Black earlier had caused her to have a cigarette for the first time since he'd saved her from those vulgar Slytherins. She should have stolen the map from the lads, or the invisibility cloak. But she knew if filch caught her she could get out of it.

She'd been practicing her charm and her fire. No flames yet, but her palms had gotten warm and tingly on more than one occasion. She almost considers going to an empty classroom to practice some more tonight, but then hands grab her.

A palm slaps over her mouth, making her squawk in disbelief and rage.

"Dont kill me! It's James!"

Phoebe smacks his hands off of her and whirls around, facing the grinning boy.

"You just scared me half to death!" She whisper yells, heart still thumping loudly in her ears. James' smile turns apologetic.

"Sorry, Bee. What's got you smoking again?" James asks, reaching up to tuck back some of her stray hairs. She blushes slightly at the familiar motion, mumbling, "A bunch of stuff."

James quirks a brow and goes to open his mouth to speak. He pauses, looking up and down the hallway before he grabs her hand and starts sprinting down the hall. Phoebe can't help but laugh quietly as they go, hearing filch and Mrs Norris hot on their tails.

James skids to a stop in front of a blank looking wall, closes his eyes, and walks back and forth three times. Phoebe gasps when a door slowly appears, James tugging her inside just in the nick of time.

The room looks a little odd, set up like a living room with a big fire place and sofa. But there was a large bed in the back. James flushes slightly. Instead of covering it up, he admits, "This is the room of requirement."

"And you think we'll be requiring a bed?" Phoebe asks teasingly, enjoying the hint of pink that dusts his cheeks. He avoids the question, instead guiding her to the couch as he speaks, "We're gonna have to hide here for now. Talk to me about the stuff bothering you."

Phoebe still feels that struggle to confide and talk about these things, instead preferring to stuff them down with cigarettes. But James is waiting patiently, eyes and smile warm on hers.

"It's Regulus," She confesses, watching him carefully for any odd reaction. He looks slightly confused, but nods, waiting for her to continue.

"He's so wrapped up in his parents beliefs and the bloody dark wizard they're following. And I just wish I could get him out of it."

James smiles slightly, murmuring, "You're too sweet for your own good. He's made his choice, bee. Who are we to force him to change it?"

"I know...it's just that we aren't that different. Regulus, Sirius, and I. We aren't that different," She murmurs. Her worries slip away as she stares into James' eyes, feeling herself surprisingly more satisfied by his presence than by the cigarette she'd been puffing on earlier. She smiles a little and says, "Thank you for listening."

"Thank you for telling me," James replies, cupping her cheek gently. He strokes the skin under his thumb, feeling his heart soar at the way she's looking at him. He felt like he could do anything when Phoebe Griffin looked at him like that. Especially when she confided in him.

"You're a good teacher," Phoebe whispers, leaning in to gently brush her lips against his. James smirks and whispers back, "So are you."

He leans forwards and presses his lips firmly to hers, his hands moving to cup her neck and tilt her chin up to him. He groans when he feels her tongue against his lower lip, opening up to the teasing sensation. Phoebe moves closer, throwing one leg over his hip to straddle his waist.

She sighs softly when their tongues touch, James dominating hers with feather light and then aggressive touches. He nips at her lower lip, unable to help the growing ravenous feeling in his body. He was addicted to her, hungry for her. And Phoebe felt the same, relishing the fact that this was the first time they'd been alone in a while. She pulls back from his lips and moves to his neck, kissing the skin just below his jaw.

James groans out, "Fuck, Phoebe." She smiles triumphantly against his skin, spine tingling at his husky voice saying her name. She bites down gently on his neck, running her tongue across the new bruises. She can feel James hardening beneath her, and she can't help but grind herself into his erection, growing needier for his touch.

James slips his hands under her sweater, eyes nearly rolling back at the feel of her cool skin against his rough palms. His eyes cross as Phoebe grinds her hips down on his and he stills her, panting slightly, "Don't do that."

She pulls back slightly, showing James her face with a sexy little pout that makes him want to ravish her.

"Why not?" She wonders, moving her hands to his hair. She rakes her fingers through the soft brown tresses, smiling when the boys eyes flutter shut.

"Because," he chokes out, leaning into her touch. "It makes me want to do things to you."

Phoebe smiles, leaning down to peck his lips a few times, laughing quietly as he kisses back sweetly.

"What makes you think I don't want you to do those things to me, J?"

James' eyes fly open and he stares at her in disbelief, embarrassingly turned on by the rather simple nickname she's called him. Love. His heart begs him to say those three little words, but he knows it will scare the piss out of her.

"You want me?" James asks slowly instead, looking up at where she's positioned on his hips. She's beautiful and pure, but her grey eyes look dark and sinful in the glow of the fire. She laughs quietly at his question, tilting her head to the side in playful confusion as she asks, "You can't tell? James I was going to have sex with you the other morning if Peter hadn't interrupted. Was that not clear?"

James grins slightly at her boldness and her words. His hands remain under her shirt on her back, gently rubbing her skin. He says slowly, "I mean I had hoped. But I don't want you to think..."

He trails off, heart clenching. He doesn't want her to think he's using her.

Phoebe smiles softly and rests her forehead against his. She scoots closer on his lap, their fronts practically pressed together.

"James, you are nothing like those other boys. I know you care for me, not just for a shag or a snog. And I care about you. I'm not going anywhere, as long as you'll have me. So quit thinking so much."

James smiles widely at her words, and to keep himself from professing his undying love for her, he smashes their lips together and kisses her in a way that he hopes shows how much he loves her.