The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Irrelevant

{{double update! Yay!!! I didn't edit so...sorry in advance!}}

James rakes his fingers through his hair, demanding frustratedly,

"But how did they know? She said they knew exactly where they were. They knew that she was alone!"

Alastor Moody sighs and repeats tiredly, "We aren't sure, Potter. Maybe someone saw—"

James interrupts him, turning to Dumbledore and accusing, "If someone in the Order is a traitor I will fucking come after you. She could have died! It could have been her, not Fenwick."

Madeye and Sirius both look at James in surprise, but Gideon just nods his head slowly, Remus looking apprehensive. The Prewett twin pipes up, offering, "We could use Veritaserum? Check that no one is lying I suppose."

Dumbledore sighs calmly, peering at James over his glasses and asking, "Would it make you more comfortable to do such a thing, Mr. Potter?"

"The only people that knew she was going to Diagon Alley were me and Sirius," James snaps irritably. This meeting had been going for hours, and not one person had any idea as to why or how the Death Eaters were in Diagon Alley at the right place and the right time. He's exhausted. He just wants to hold his girl.

Remus frowns at the way James is pacing anxiously, offering quietly, "Perhaps we should revisit this later."

When James whips his head up to reply angrily, Sirius interjects, saying firmly, "Yes. Let's put a pin in it for now, James. We're no closer than we were an hour ago, and everyone could use a break."

James scowls and tense silence hangs in the kitchen before he gives a stiff nod. Sirius smiles weakly and mutters, "I've got to go see Marlene. Are you and Pheebs alright here for a bit?"

James sighs and nods again, watching as Madeye and Sirius leave the kitchen. Remus quick pats James on the arm and offers him an encouraging smile before he and Gideon leave hand in hand. James quickly reaches out and grabs Dumbledore's arm as he moves past him. His throat grows impossibly tight under the blue eyes of the wizard. He finally chokes out,

"If she dies..."

Dumbledore softens and says quietly, "James, I'm going to do everything in my power to protect the both of you—"

"I don't care about me," James interrupts, feeling prickling behind his eyes. He swallows and says firmly, "If something goes wrong, protect her. Pick her."

The headmaster grows quiet for a moment, appraising James with a sudden heaviness on his shoulders. He sighs and says honestly, "I've already promised such a thing to Phoebe. I don't break my promises."

Shock fills James and he releases the Wizards arm, watching silently as he walks out of the kitchen. James hears him when he apparates, but he doesn't move. He stares in horror at the spot where the wizard was just standing. She'd gotten to him first, made him promise first.

Anger floods him, red hot and uncomfortable. How could she do that. How could she make Dumbledore promise to save him instead of her? Like James wanted to live in a world without her in it.

He looks up when the door swings open, mouth twisted into an angry scowl as the woman he loves wanders in. She smiles timidly and James wonders if she can tell that he's mad. Mad at her, mad at Dumbledore. Mad at the fucking war.

"Hello, love," She says quietly and James flinches like he's been struck. He loves her too much. Too much to let her die while he lives.

Phoebe's brow furrows and she asks, "J, what's—"

"You made Dumbledore promise that he would save me," James stares angrily. He knows it's true, he can practically hear what she would've said to the wizard in his head. Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she grows serious, her voice sure as she replies simply, "Yes."

James pinches the bridge of his nose, voice hoarse as he asks, "How could you? How could you do that to me?"

"I got to him first," She says firmly, continuing louder as James groans exasperatedly and opens his mouth, "James, I asked him first!"

"You realize how pathetic that sounds, don't you?!" He replies angrily, hands balling into fists at his sides. He glares when she just shrugs and meets his gaze evenly.

"If there's a choice to be made, he will pick you. That's the deal."

"AND WHAT IS MY SAY IN THIS?!" James shouts, heart tearing in two at the thought of this. At the fact that they were even having this conversation.

"I won't survive without you," Phoebe stares honestly, her voice growing shaky with emotion. "I can't breathe without you, James."

"You think I can?! You think I can live without you here with me?! You are stupid enough to believe that I could actually survive if you died?"

Phoebe furiously wipes a tear from her cheek and snaps, "All of this is irrelevant because—"

"Irrelevant," James scoffs, turning his back and rubbing his eyes frustratedly. This was more than he could take. His heart thumps irregularly against his chest. "This is hardly irrelevant."

Phoebe's retort dies in her throat. This isn't how she wanted to tell him. She didn't want to tell him. Because while she was terrified of losing James to death, she was even more terrified of scaring him away with this. Of losing him while she was alive.
She gulps and whispers,

"It's irrelevant because you aren't the thing I'm worried most about anymore."

James snorts and turns to face her, asking flatly, "Oh please enlighten me. What worries you more than the arrangements you've made with Dumbledore for who lives and who dies?!"

Phoebe grows unsteady, unsure. She quickly reaches out and grabs onto the back of a chair to right herself. James' anger fades and he says hurriedly, "Merlin, love. Sit down, you've gone as pale as a bloody ghost."

Guilt twists in his gut as he guides her down into a chair, his voice soft as he murmurs, "I-I'm sorry, Phoebe, I shouldn't have yelled...But fucking hell, you make me furious! We have to come up with a new arrangement, a new promise. Neither of us are dying, so let's talk to Dumbledore and—"

"James," She whispers, drawing his guilty eyes to her face. His heart breaks all over again and he wipes away the tears slipping from her charcoal eyes.

"Love, what's—"

She interrupts him, places a shaky hand over his heart, the feeling of the beating against her palm making her brave. She takes a deep breath before meeting his eyes and saying quietly,

"I'm pregnant."