The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Snape

Phoebe sits nervously between Lucius Malfoy and Herbert Burke.

Mr. Burke had not only taken the opportunity to invite his son, but his friends as well. So there she was, drinking whiskey at a table with death eaters. It was both the most scared and most powerful she'd ever felt in her life.

"Where did you say you were from?" Phoebe asks flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes at Herbert. He wasn't as ugly as his father, but he certainly didn't line up with the likes of James. James.

She brushes the thought of the boy with crooked glasses and a warm grin out of her mind, zeroing in on Herbert as he begins to speak,

"I grew up right here in the alley above the store, but I'm sort of in between places right now."

Phoebe nods earnestly at his words, laying a hand on his arm. He smiles proudly in her direction, his grin widening when she asks,

"So you don't have a place right now? What a shame..."

"Well, I reckon I do. Barty's been letting us crash at his place right outside of deadmarsh."

Bingo. Phoebe has to remind herself to not celebrate too early. Her eyes flicker to where Barry Crouch Jr. is watching them with narrowed eyes. She smiles softly at him and says,

"How lovely of you, Barty. It sounds like a good location."

He seems momentarily stunned by the veela's attention, choking on his drink at her compliment. He wheezes, trying not to cough any more,

"I-I suppose it is."

"That's nothing," Lucius drawls, earning angry eyes from the two younger gentlemen. Phoebe glances his way and says playfully,

"I suppose you think you can do better? Ignore him, Barty. I think deadmarsh sounds quite exciting."

Lucius scoffs, speaking before the younger death eater can,

"I absolutely can do better. The manor is far beyond that of some shack where hags live."

Phoebe raises a challenging brow, keeping enough charm locked onto Lucius to hold his attention.

"The Manor? How...prestigious." She teases, smiling when his eyes glint with pride. Inside she wants to gag, throw up all over the bloody arrogant prick. But she keeps up her dreamy facade.

"It has the most beautiful gardens," Lucius says proudly. Phoebe winces internally when his arm extends to rest on the back of her chair. She could feel the warmth from his limbs, the arm at her back and the thigh pressed uncomfortably against hers. It made her sick.

"Does it have greenhouse? I've always wanted a green house!" Phoebe gushes, laying her hand on his knee under the table. He looks rather dumb when he smiles, Phoebe decides. She has to try hard to not wrinkle her nose at his flushed cheeks. Bloody moron.

"Of course. It's attached to the wing of the house where my bedroom and the dining room is. I frequently visit it at night. Sometimes I take my dinner out there," Lucius says eagerly.

"We've only just met and here you are talking about your bedroom," Phoebe teases, smiling coyly as his pale face grows a deeper shade of red.

Herbert, seemingly not liking the undivided attention the older death eater was getting, intervenes and says pointedly,

"Does Narcissa join you in the green house, Lucius?"

Phoebe recoils like she's been burned, saying apologetically,

"Oh, I wasn't aware you were...spoken for."

Lucius sends a nasty glare over her head at Herbert. She scoots away from the man with blonde hair and towards the younger boy, smiling apologetically.

"I'm not," Lucius says firmly. "An arranged, loveless marriage."

"So, she wouldn't mind if you gave me a tour of your garden?" Phoebe wonders, leaning forward in anticipation of his answer. She exudes a little more charm, holding her breath as Lucius fights an internal battle in his mind. One final push of her magic, and he smiles and nods,

"What she doesn't know won hurt her."

Phoebe grins widely, feeling a surge of triumph in her body. Just when she goes to open her mouth to say something more, she sees something that makes her pause.

Just outside the tavern is a familiar head of greasy black hair. Severus Snape. He's here, and he's looking down the alley where Phoebe knows Benjy Fenwick is hiding. She watches in horror as the boy removes his wand from his cloak.

"Apolline?"

Phoebe jumps, startled by Lucius' voice saying her fake name. He goes to turn to see what she's looking at, wondering,

"Is something—"

Phoebe cuts him off, quickly turning her face and pressing her lips to his.

It made her want to die, the feeling of his thin, cold lips on hers. She prays that the amount of charm combined with the kiss will leave him dazed enough for her escape.

She pulls back, smiling at his dreamy gaze and saying quietly,

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Until we meet again."

She stands without saying anything more to the shocked and dazed men surrounding her and hurries from the tavern, slamming into Severus and pushing him out of sight. She doesn't know why, but for some reason she doesn't raise her wand. She isn't compelled to hurt him, despite the hurt he had caused.

He whirls around and faces her and her empty hands. Defenseless. He raises his wand, sneering arrogantly,

"You must have a death wish."

Phoebe rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh,

"Piss off, you fucking—"

"Sectumsempra!"

Phoebe let's out a cry of pain, her hand flying to the torn material of her robes. She hears running behind her, Benjy coming to a halt behind her with his wand raised.

"Are you alright?" Benjy asks lowly, his eyes narrowed at the death eater facing them.

Phoebe moves her hand from her shoulder, staring in surprise at the blood there. She was bleeding. But he didn't kill her.

Snape is staring at her and Benjy with an unimpressed look on his face. She feels like her voice has been stolen, their stand off leaving her stunned. She only can speak when she sees him push up his sleeve and move his arm to the ink littering his arm. The dark mark.

"Don't!" Phoebe says hurriedly. Snape scoffs, but she continues on,

"If you call them I will tell them about Lily."

He freezes, his beady black eyes finally meeting hers. She stares at him calmly, warm blood sticking her shirt to her skin. He could have killed her. She'd seen him use the spell before. But he didn't. And she knew exactly why. The same reason why he hadn't cruciod her back at Hogwarts.

"You wouldn't do that. You wouldn't put her at risk," Snape says lowly, his eyes glancing briefly at the injury he'd caused. He wouldn't kill her. Because she was Lily's friend.

Calming her racing heart, she can feel Benjy Fenwick watching the two of them as she asks evenly,

"Would you? Would you put her at risk?"

Snape blinks at her silently, his lip curling before he turns and walks away without another word.

Phoebe exhales, slumping into Benjy's waiting arm as he mumbles,

"Alright, Pheebs. Let's get out of here."