The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Grandmother

James looks around confusedly, in awe of the decor.

There's pink. Everywhere.

Baby pink and fuchsia and rose and pinks so bright it makes his eyes water if he looks at it for too long.

Phoebe sits next to him, her face a mask of faux composure and pleasantness. Her posture is so straight that he reckons her spine must hurt, her ankles crossed and legs bent perfectly.

Her grandmother is a frail old thing, her leathery skin tanned and wrinkled from years underneath the French sun. Her hair is stark white, her lips pursed in an unpleasant manner. Her name, James came to know upon their awkward greeting, was Odette. An oddly pretty name for such a cross looking woman. The only way he knew they were related was their eyes. She too had pale grey with flecks of icy blue. He feels like he may wet himself when those creepy eyes turn to him,

"You've known Phoebe for how long?" Her accent is thick, hard for him to understand. James smiles and replies,

"Since we were eleven, Ma'am."

Phoebe feels a crack in her stone armor when her grandmother scoffs, "Ah, you met at the dreadful Hogwarts. I tried to convince her mother to send her to Beauxbatons. Phoebe inherited her poor listening skills."

James fights back the things he wants to say, knowing it will only make it worse. The truth was, he wanted the woman to like him. If nothing else, it meant he got to know more about Phoebe.

His eyes slide to briefly glance at his girlfriend before he wonders politely,

"You've been in France your whole life, Miss..."

He trails off, hoping he hasn't made an error. Phoebe's eyes widen in shock when her grandmother smiles faintly and says,

"Odette, boy. Call me Odette. And yes, I've lived in my whole life."

Phoebe gets a withering look from her grandma as she continues,

"I'll be moving soon. Since this is no longer my home."

James can tell the young veela could use a break so he asks quietly,

"I hate to be rude, but could I bother you for a glass of water? I haven't been to the beach in sometime and it seems to be getting to me."

Phoebe quickly rises to her feet, saying hurriedly,

"I'll get you some."

James smiles warmly as Phoebe rushes out of the suffocatingly bright room, leaving him alone with the grumpy older woman.

"So," He says nervously. An idea pops into his head that makes him smile.

"You don't have any baby pictures of Phoebe, do you?"

Phoebe rushes to the kitchen, gulping in air for her needy lungs. She'd been sucking in her gut since the moment she'd stepped in the door, terrified that her grandmother would comment on her weight in front of James. This house...this kitchen. It pushed memories that she'd long forgotten to the forefront of her mind.

She catches a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the window over the sink. The voices in her head force irrational thoughts practically down her throat. She can't help it, she turns to the side.

She stares at her profile in the window, pressing her shaking hands to her stomach and pushing. She suddenly feels ill. Disgusted.

"Phoebe!"

The Veela jumps, distracted from her thoughts and fully turning to face a very tiny house elf with big eyes and ears that look closer to wings for flying rather than ears for listening. She smiles widely and crouches down, whispering,

"Bonjour, Kelpy."

The two hug tightly, embracing for what Phoebe fears may be the last time. At least until her grandmother died. She'd grown up with the house elf, collected shells and built sand castles with her. They used to race the tide together, jumping over the crashing waves until her mother or grandmother called them home. She was extremely fond of the creature.

"Has she been treating you alright?" Phoebe wonders when they separate.

"Mistress is fine. Mistress lets kelpy take trips!"

Phoebe grins to herself as the house elf continues to babble,

"Kelpy visited Hogwarts and Kreacher just the other day."

Phoebe freezes, quickly reaching out and grabbing the elf's arm. Kreacher.

Regulus.

"You visit Kreacher?" Phoebe asks quietly. Kelpy nods, her eyes the size of dinner plates in surprise at the veela's urgency.

"Yes, Kelpy visits Kreacher. Kreacher has been sad, his mistress is dead and—"

"Mr. and Mrs. Black are dead?"

Kelpy winces and looks around nervously at the veela's question, groaning before she smacks herself on the head,

"It was a secret. Kelpy wasn't supposed to tell."

Phoebe quickly reaches out and grabs her hands before she can hurt herself further, her mind racing. Regulus. She needed to see Regulus.

"It's okay, Kelpy. Would you do me an enormous favor?"

The house elf nods eagerly, saying happily, "Kelpy would do anything Phoebe asks!"

Phoebe smiles, saying hurriedly, "I need you to—"

"Petite-fille!!!"

Phoebe winces, panicking slightly. She hurriedly tells Kelpy her plan, the house elf nodding her head eagerly as Phoebe speaks. Phoebe smiles and hugs Kelpy tightly before the elf disappears, leaving Phoebe to hurry back to the living room.

She hands the water she's shakily carrying to James. He smiles kindly, a worried look flashing in his eyes as she takes her seat. Phoebe's too distracted to notice the photo album sat open next to him. If she did she probably would have the sense to be embarrassed. Odette purses her lips, saying irritably,

"Je ne savais pas que ça te prendrait si longtemps."

Phoebe lowers her head, replying softly,

"Je suis désolé. J'ai été distrait."

James wishes desperately in that moment that he could speak French. Especially when Phoebe reaches for one of the colorful tiny cookies lining the plate in front of them and her grandmother bites out something vile,

"Ne touchez pas à ça!  Ton poids est honteux!"

Phoebe flinches like she's been struck, her breathing catching in her throat. James promised. He said he wouldn't intervene. But he can't.

"That's it!" He cries, earning shocked looks from Phoebe and her grandmother.

"We are out of here!"

Phoebe balks at him as he stands and grabs her hands, pulling her to her feet and ushering her out of the door. Odette screams french nonsense as she runs after them, making tears well up in Phoebe's eyes. James grits his teeth and turns, pointing his wand at the evil woman and saying,

"Silencio!"

Phoebe stares in awe as her grandmother's screams turn silent, Odette's eyes wide in horror. James scowls and guides Phoebe from the horrid cottage, his blood boiling. Before he can do it himself, Phoebe has apparated,  landing them in a quiet dark house.

He quickly begins speaking, his hands flying to his hair,

"I-I'm sorry, love. I know I said I wouldn't do anything or intervene, but who speaks to their family that way! I mean I don't know exactly what she said but you just wanted a bloody cookie. Is that so—"

Phoebe smashes her lips to his, cutting off his rushed words. James' hands fall from his hair to rest on her hips, a groan leaving him when he feels her nip at his  lips. She pulls back, leaving him slightly dazed as she says quietly,

"That was hot."

James can't stop the goofy grin that appears on his face, their lips eagerly meeting once more.