The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Pregnant

James' heart weighs heavily in his chest as he watches Phoebe sleep.

She's peaceful, a stark contrast to the panic from the day before. It was true, Benjy Fenwick was gone. Gone. only his hand and his wand left behind. James had told Mary for Phoebe, consoled the poor heart broken witch until Marlene and Alice took over.

He reaches out and gently runs his fingers through the Veela's soft hair. She'd sat in the shower for nearly two hours, James eventually climbing in with her to help scrub the red from her body. They didn't talk about it, didn't talk about what the red was. Just sat and held each other until the water at their feet ran clear and they both smelled of lavender.

He feels himself growing pathetically soft when her eyelids flutter slightly, her lips press together. Awake. He thanks whoever is listening that he gets to wake up next to her today. He thanks Benjy, prays he's listening. Or if he isn't, that he's at peace.

James smiles slightly and murmurs, "Good morning, Bee." His fingers gently trace her brow, her cheek bones, her smile. Phoebe's eyes blink open, the grey turning silver in the morning light.

"Every morning with you is good," She whispers, reaching up to push back his hair from his eyes. He smirks and catches her fingers, pressing a kiss to each one before asking calmly, "Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Her smile fades and she bobs her head up and down. She blinks at him, finally whispering, "Yes. Unfortunately."

James gingerly takes her into his arms, being careful of her back. Phoebe lets out a contented sigh when he pulls her onto his chest, his hands gently easing the tension from her muscles with every gentle touch.

"I'm sorry, Bee," James mumbles, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry that you had to deal with that. And I'm sorry about Benjy."

Phoebe clenches her fists, willing the memories of Benjy Fenwick's death to leave her mind. She replies quietly, "Yeah. I'm sorry too."

James kisses the top of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. He could've lost her. Not even a month married, and he could have lost her. They were going to have to have a serious conversation about her leaving and going anywhere. She certainly wouldn't be going anywhere without him anymore.

He nearly says something, but then there's a gentle knock at the door. Phoebe moves to get up but stops when James grunts, "Merlin, woman. Stay here!"

She can't stop the small laugh that escapes as he gently settles her back onto her pillows before standing and walking over to the door. He cracks it open to see Sirius with wide, fearful eyes. James smiles encouragingly and opens the door, nearly falling over when his friend bursts through.

He runs over and flings himself into their bed, quickly hugging Phoebe and mumbling, "Bloody hell, Pheebs. Could you give us all a break?"

"Sorry, Black. I like to keep things entertaining," She teases tiredly, hugging him back. She closes her eyes and squeezes him tight, trying to picture a world without her husband or her brother. A world she wouldn't want to live in.

Sirius reluctantly lets go of her and to James' pleasure says sternly, "You're never leaving this house again."

"I second that motion," James adds, smiling softly as Phoebe yawns and replies, "I'm too tired to argue about that today. Maybe tomorrow."

Sirius chuckles and sits up, looking at James and saying, "Dumbledore and Madeye are waiting. Gideon and Moony will be here any second."

James nods and Sirius climbs out of bed. Phoebe goes to do the same, but large hands suddenly grip her shoulders and gently press her back down to the bed. She looks up at James with an exasperated frown.