----Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Charmed. I only own Paris
Turner. Notes: ^^Thoughts^^, ~Premonitions~, and Telepathic Speaking.
Notes: Harry and his gang are 17 as well as Paris, and Wyatt is 16. ---
Chapter Six: Being Bad Feels Good
Phoebe sat at her desk grading papers, or at least that's what it looked like she was doing. Actually she was thinking. What was it that was on her mind? Cole. The one word that made her body feel like butter being spread on a piece of bread that had just come out of the toaster. She had managed to ignore the thought of him, consuming herself with work, her daughter and numerous other boyfriends. But they never compared to him. She would always love Cole, there was truth to that. But when she said she would never want him again. Well that was a complete lie. Her body yearned for him at times. The simple caress of his strong arms caressing her skin; she shuttered at the memory of it. But it could never be. There could never be anything between them. Fate had made it that way. She was good and he was evil. Not completely evil though. She knew that he had a good side, a human side. She could see it when he looked at her. She could see it when he saw their daughter. The love, the care all of it lay inside those eyes.
Phoebe put the quill down, deciding that it was time to stop pretending that she was doing something that she wasn't. She felt a cool breeze come in from her window. She got up, looked out the window a smile crossing her features. Her room had an excellent view of the Quidditch field. And Phoebe could see her daughter participating in 'flying lessons'. The girl sat on the ground with a boy with blond hair, his arms wrapped around her. And from what she saw they were in a heavy make out session. She giggled for a few seconds and closed the window with a smile.
The smile quickly faded when a burst of flames entered her room, and materialized into a form she was all too familiar with.
"Cole?" She asked surprised to see him.
"Phoebe." He said; she could see that he was nervous.
"Is there something you wanted?" She questioned him. His presence was disturbing her, not in a gross way but in a get over here and kiss me way that she knew was not a good idea. Unknown to her, her body was making moves her mind was not telling them too.
Soft lips met her own and tongues intertwined. She felt his hands roam freely over her body, caressing her back, shoulders, everywhere. She moaned with the pleasure of it. After a minute of tantalizing kisses it was Cole who broke the lip lock.
"Phoebe what are you-?" He was cut off by her jumping onto him and shutting him up with another kiss.
"I need you." Was all she said; as she began to remove articles of clothing from his strong muscular body. He did the same and the two found themselves in her bed not long after enjoying their bodies moving to a familiar rhythm in which they had done a million times before. Except this was so different, it was more passionate. It was filled with lust and want, want of something that had been away for so long. And they both loved every minute of it.
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Paris slept peacefully in her bed. No horror or terror surrounding her aura. She had had a wonderful day with Draco. She had had a very lovely time during their flying lessons. Nothing could spoil her slumber, or so it would seem.
A dark shadow entered her room through the window. The shadow crept toward the bed where Paris lay. Slowly the shadow engulfed her and her body arched at the sudden feeling of it. He eyes shot open only to see nothing there but the ceiling. But Paris knew other wise. She could feel the darkness upon her like sweat after a good work out. Darkness, for some, is very hard to detect. It does not feel how one would imagine. It is not painful, it is powerful. Light is a warm fuzzy feeling in the depth of ones soul, while the dark is a burning sensation deep in the pin out the stomach. And that is what Paris felt at that moment.
Eyes shut she chanted words in Latin. Softly she said them, but the words held great power behind them. She opened her eyes to see if the chant had worked. It had.
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Harry moved about restlessly in his sleep; his hand clutching his forehead where the notorious scare lay. He tossed and turned in his bed unable to find peace. Even in sleep his body knew when harm was near.
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Dark eyes stared down at her from where she lay. The presence familiar but unwanted, it was him. The one who made her feel so weak and submissive. And she hated it. She was powerless to stop whatever he tried. Part of her, she admitted, liked it; the feeling of his lust, his passion for her. But she knew, oh did she know, what was behind the handsome figure that was now covering her body in her bed.
After her chant he had materialized from the shadow into the form of a man. And now here he was, staring at her with those lustful dark eyes. She knew what he wanted, and he knew she knew.
"Why do you fight it?" His voice asked with a thick accent.
Her eyes were closed as she replied. "Because I'm good, I turned away from the evil long ago."
His hand slithered down her cheek and he whispered in her ear. "Do not lie; even you know it is still there. It will never leave. It is always deep inside. Why fight it when it feels good?"
"It isn't good." She stated eyes still closed. Her voice wavering as she said it. But God did being bad feel so good. Gradually the feeling of her old self came forth. Images and feelings of a time before she had come to help the Charmed ones. He was right it did feel good; all the power, the complete control.
She let out a quiver of a breath as she felt his cold hand slip under her silk nightgown, and touch her breast. His hand rubbed it slowly, arousing her. She clenched her teeth as to not let him know that it excited her.
An evil smile crossed his lips as he saw her trying to fight. Her fighting made it all the more fun for him. She was so determined not to let him inside, and it made him want her all the more. His other hand found its place at her maidenhood, soon finding his fingers inside. This time she couldn't keep the pleasure of it within. She let out a loud cry that made him smile. Her hands clenched the sheets of the bed trying to control her outbursts as his fingers moved up and down, and his hand continued its pleasure to her breast. His lips met hers firmly and he could hear the muffled moan caught by the kiss. He ended it and began to suck on the side of her neck.
"This," She took a breathe "is wrong."
"No." He said simply, and then continued sucking her neck.
"Leave." She said trying as hard as possible to sound demanding.
He ignored her.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, he had just entered inside her. ^^NO!^^ Her mind screamed. ^^NO! NO! NO! This isn't right! Please God help me!^^ Tears began to form, and at the top of her lungs she screamed. "LEAVE!"
A firm hand pressed over her mouth shutting her up. She shook her head vigorously trying to move the hand from over her mouth. This was difficult for her. She was enjoying the pleasure from this man or demon, but she knew it was wrong and that's why the tears fell. Her mind raced at what she could do. Did anyone hear her scream? If they had were they on their way?
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Harry jumped out of bed at the loud cry he heard both mentally and physically. The sound of it still rang in his ears. Someone was shouting for someone or something to leave. He let out a loud yell at the intense pain coming from his scar.
"Harry?" Ron shot out of bed and looked at his friend.
But Harry did not hear the red haired wizard. The Boy-Who-Lived grabbed his wand and headed out the door; Ron following right behind him.
His scar was burning and he didn't need to think twice about whom it was that needed to leave. He didn't know where he was going. He just followed where the scar burned the most hoping that it would lead him to the person he knew was there. His wand was clutched firmly in his hand.
In a flash of movements he found himself inside a girl's room pointing his wand. "GO AWAY!" Harry yelled at the figure of a man over a girl who his mind had not yet confirmed as Paris. Ron did the same, but with less conviction as his friend.
The figure turned to see the boy and a smile crossed his face. "Harry?" The man asked. "Is that you?"
It was Voldemort, Harry was sure of it. Even though he knew it was the wizard by the burning on his forehead. But it was confirmed by the presence of Tom Riddle standing in front of him.
Paris took this as a time to back away from her unwanted guest and will a fireball. She was surprised that she was able to do so. She had thought herself unable to do anything when this man was around. Maybe it was the anger rising within her, stronger than before that gave her the courage.
Harry was now able to see that the voice who had called out was Paris Turner's. He was taken aback for a moment but returned to his on guard position quickly. "I suggest you do what she asked you Riddle." Harry spat angrily.
Tom's eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him. He turned around to see Paris, eyes filled with fire glaring at him from behind. He couldn't help the smile that formed when he saw the fireball in her hand. "I see that you have gained some courage against me now that Potter has arrived."
The fireball in Paris' hand grew larger at his words. "Potter had nothing to do with it." She stated. "You crossed a line mister and that's why the balls aimed at you."
"Mister?" He questioned her with a smile. He moved toward her little by little; his eyes piercing into her own. "I thought we were better acquainted than that."
Her eyes widened and she threw the fireball at him. But it was to no avail the figure that was once standing in the middle of her room, left as abruptly as it had come. She now stood in the room, along with Harry and Ron. The two looked at her with confusion, and she just sighed heavily.
"Thank you." She said breathlessly.
Harry cocked an eyebrow in distrust. Even though she had been the one that had needed saving from Voldemort that didn't mean she didn't work for him. Maybe it was an employee employer quarrel. But then again when he had entered the room, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight. From what Harry could tell the wizard was on top of the witch doing well it. "Why was he here?"
Paris shook her head. "I don't know." She said. "He wants me." She stated truthfully. Her burrow furrowed in thought. She remembered that Harry had known who the man was. She gave Harry a questioning look. "Who was he?"
Harry and Ron were both taken aback. She didn't know who the guy was.
"You don't know?" Ron asked in utter disbelief.
Paris shook her head in reply.
"He's Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort." Harry told her.
"Oh." Paris nodded dumbly. A thought occurred to her as they were standing there. She gave a weary smile. "You think I work for him don't you?" She already knew the answer; yes.
"Ahhhh." Harry hesitated not really wanting to answer.
Paris gave a weak smile. "I know what you two think and you're wrong. I'm not asking you to believe me; all I am asking is for you to trust me." She looked them both in the eye. "Can you do that?"
Harry and Ron shared a look. Ron shrugged and Harry just nodded.
"Good, now let's get down to business." She walked toward them her arms outstretched. "Take my hand." She commanded firmly but still in a polite manner.
Ron and Harry did as asked and soon found themselves in another room; one that was not familiar to them. Before either of them could ask where they were Paris broke out yelling. "LEO!"
The whitelighter entered the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked at his caller and his emotion changed from sleepy to alert. He could sense that his niece was rather nervous and scared; something that she would never openly admit to. He then noticed that Harry and Ron where in the room as well. He knew it must be urgent if it was in the middle of the night and the two people who didn't trust her with their lives were standing right next to her. Something was definitely up; he just didn't know how up it was.
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Lucius Malfoy sat in his study reading the Daily Prophet. It wasn't unusual for the elder Malfoy to be up this late, he was usually up with meetings or other events. Tonight was one of those nights, except for the fact that he was the employee. He was waiting for the man he served till his life ended, or whatever loyalty was to a Malfoy.
In a blink of an eye a figure emerged from the shadows of the room. The figure was none other than the Dark Lord himself. Malfoy immediately bowed to the man.
"Get up." The figure replied. It was the figure of Tom Riddle; the wizard had chosen this side because of its youth which was quite helpful when one was as old as him.
"How did it go?" Lucius asked him a curious look across his pale face.
Riddle scowled lightly. "Potter interrupted." He stated.
Lucius nodded in understanding, he had the feeling that there was more to this story. After he had heard of the Source's daughter attending Hogwarts, he had immediately informed the Dark Lord. She would be a good asset to his side, but she was harder to get on his side than both had originally thought. Tonight was supposed to be when she caved, but so far from what Lucius could tell she hadn't. This was not a good thing.
"Also Lucius," Riddle began.
"Yes my lord?" He asked.
"Your son, it is time now." He told him simply. There was no need for him to elaborate; the elder Malfoy knew what the old wizard meant. His son needed to choose sides, it was now or never. "I have always held your family in the highest respect. Do not let me down." And with that he left through the shadows leaving Malfoy alone to his thoughts.
-------Sorry it has taken me so long! I have been so busy. Anyway please review. As always I need at least 3 before another chappie will be placed. Thanks. ~Alana----
Chapter Six: Being Bad Feels Good
Phoebe sat at her desk grading papers, or at least that's what it looked like she was doing. Actually she was thinking. What was it that was on her mind? Cole. The one word that made her body feel like butter being spread on a piece of bread that had just come out of the toaster. She had managed to ignore the thought of him, consuming herself with work, her daughter and numerous other boyfriends. But they never compared to him. She would always love Cole, there was truth to that. But when she said she would never want him again. Well that was a complete lie. Her body yearned for him at times. The simple caress of his strong arms caressing her skin; she shuttered at the memory of it. But it could never be. There could never be anything between them. Fate had made it that way. She was good and he was evil. Not completely evil though. She knew that he had a good side, a human side. She could see it when he looked at her. She could see it when he saw their daughter. The love, the care all of it lay inside those eyes.
Phoebe put the quill down, deciding that it was time to stop pretending that she was doing something that she wasn't. She felt a cool breeze come in from her window. She got up, looked out the window a smile crossing her features. Her room had an excellent view of the Quidditch field. And Phoebe could see her daughter participating in 'flying lessons'. The girl sat on the ground with a boy with blond hair, his arms wrapped around her. And from what she saw they were in a heavy make out session. She giggled for a few seconds and closed the window with a smile.
The smile quickly faded when a burst of flames entered her room, and materialized into a form she was all too familiar with.
"Cole?" She asked surprised to see him.
"Phoebe." He said; she could see that he was nervous.
"Is there something you wanted?" She questioned him. His presence was disturbing her, not in a gross way but in a get over here and kiss me way that she knew was not a good idea. Unknown to her, her body was making moves her mind was not telling them too.
Soft lips met her own and tongues intertwined. She felt his hands roam freely over her body, caressing her back, shoulders, everywhere. She moaned with the pleasure of it. After a minute of tantalizing kisses it was Cole who broke the lip lock.
"Phoebe what are you-?" He was cut off by her jumping onto him and shutting him up with another kiss.
"I need you." Was all she said; as she began to remove articles of clothing from his strong muscular body. He did the same and the two found themselves in her bed not long after enjoying their bodies moving to a familiar rhythm in which they had done a million times before. Except this was so different, it was more passionate. It was filled with lust and want, want of something that had been away for so long. And they both loved every minute of it.
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Paris slept peacefully in her bed. No horror or terror surrounding her aura. She had had a wonderful day with Draco. She had had a very lovely time during their flying lessons. Nothing could spoil her slumber, or so it would seem.
A dark shadow entered her room through the window. The shadow crept toward the bed where Paris lay. Slowly the shadow engulfed her and her body arched at the sudden feeling of it. He eyes shot open only to see nothing there but the ceiling. But Paris knew other wise. She could feel the darkness upon her like sweat after a good work out. Darkness, for some, is very hard to detect. It does not feel how one would imagine. It is not painful, it is powerful. Light is a warm fuzzy feeling in the depth of ones soul, while the dark is a burning sensation deep in the pin out the stomach. And that is what Paris felt at that moment.
Eyes shut she chanted words in Latin. Softly she said them, but the words held great power behind them. She opened her eyes to see if the chant had worked. It had.
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Harry moved about restlessly in his sleep; his hand clutching his forehead where the notorious scare lay. He tossed and turned in his bed unable to find peace. Even in sleep his body knew when harm was near.
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Dark eyes stared down at her from where she lay. The presence familiar but unwanted, it was him. The one who made her feel so weak and submissive. And she hated it. She was powerless to stop whatever he tried. Part of her, she admitted, liked it; the feeling of his lust, his passion for her. But she knew, oh did she know, what was behind the handsome figure that was now covering her body in her bed.
After her chant he had materialized from the shadow into the form of a man. And now here he was, staring at her with those lustful dark eyes. She knew what he wanted, and he knew she knew.
"Why do you fight it?" His voice asked with a thick accent.
Her eyes were closed as she replied. "Because I'm good, I turned away from the evil long ago."
His hand slithered down her cheek and he whispered in her ear. "Do not lie; even you know it is still there. It will never leave. It is always deep inside. Why fight it when it feels good?"
"It isn't good." She stated eyes still closed. Her voice wavering as she said it. But God did being bad feel so good. Gradually the feeling of her old self came forth. Images and feelings of a time before she had come to help the Charmed ones. He was right it did feel good; all the power, the complete control.
She let out a quiver of a breath as she felt his cold hand slip under her silk nightgown, and touch her breast. His hand rubbed it slowly, arousing her. She clenched her teeth as to not let him know that it excited her.
An evil smile crossed his lips as he saw her trying to fight. Her fighting made it all the more fun for him. She was so determined not to let him inside, and it made him want her all the more. His other hand found its place at her maidenhood, soon finding his fingers inside. This time she couldn't keep the pleasure of it within. She let out a loud cry that made him smile. Her hands clenched the sheets of the bed trying to control her outbursts as his fingers moved up and down, and his hand continued its pleasure to her breast. His lips met hers firmly and he could hear the muffled moan caught by the kiss. He ended it and began to suck on the side of her neck.
"This," She took a breathe "is wrong."
"No." He said simply, and then continued sucking her neck.
"Leave." She said trying as hard as possible to sound demanding.
He ignored her.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, he had just entered inside her. ^^NO!^^ Her mind screamed. ^^NO! NO! NO! This isn't right! Please God help me!^^ Tears began to form, and at the top of her lungs she screamed. "LEAVE!"
A firm hand pressed over her mouth shutting her up. She shook her head vigorously trying to move the hand from over her mouth. This was difficult for her. She was enjoying the pleasure from this man or demon, but she knew it was wrong and that's why the tears fell. Her mind raced at what she could do. Did anyone hear her scream? If they had were they on their way?
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Harry jumped out of bed at the loud cry he heard both mentally and physically. The sound of it still rang in his ears. Someone was shouting for someone or something to leave. He let out a loud yell at the intense pain coming from his scar.
"Harry?" Ron shot out of bed and looked at his friend.
But Harry did not hear the red haired wizard. The Boy-Who-Lived grabbed his wand and headed out the door; Ron following right behind him.
His scar was burning and he didn't need to think twice about whom it was that needed to leave. He didn't know where he was going. He just followed where the scar burned the most hoping that it would lead him to the person he knew was there. His wand was clutched firmly in his hand.
In a flash of movements he found himself inside a girl's room pointing his wand. "GO AWAY!" Harry yelled at the figure of a man over a girl who his mind had not yet confirmed as Paris. Ron did the same, but with less conviction as his friend.
The figure turned to see the boy and a smile crossed his face. "Harry?" The man asked. "Is that you?"
It was Voldemort, Harry was sure of it. Even though he knew it was the wizard by the burning on his forehead. But it was confirmed by the presence of Tom Riddle standing in front of him.
Paris took this as a time to back away from her unwanted guest and will a fireball. She was surprised that she was able to do so. She had thought herself unable to do anything when this man was around. Maybe it was the anger rising within her, stronger than before that gave her the courage.
Harry was now able to see that the voice who had called out was Paris Turner's. He was taken aback for a moment but returned to his on guard position quickly. "I suggest you do what she asked you Riddle." Harry spat angrily.
Tom's eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him. He turned around to see Paris, eyes filled with fire glaring at him from behind. He couldn't help the smile that formed when he saw the fireball in her hand. "I see that you have gained some courage against me now that Potter has arrived."
The fireball in Paris' hand grew larger at his words. "Potter had nothing to do with it." She stated. "You crossed a line mister and that's why the balls aimed at you."
"Mister?" He questioned her with a smile. He moved toward her little by little; his eyes piercing into her own. "I thought we were better acquainted than that."
Her eyes widened and she threw the fireball at him. But it was to no avail the figure that was once standing in the middle of her room, left as abruptly as it had come. She now stood in the room, along with Harry and Ron. The two looked at her with confusion, and she just sighed heavily.
"Thank you." She said breathlessly.
Harry cocked an eyebrow in distrust. Even though she had been the one that had needed saving from Voldemort that didn't mean she didn't work for him. Maybe it was an employee employer quarrel. But then again when he had entered the room, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight. From what Harry could tell the wizard was on top of the witch doing well it. "Why was he here?"
Paris shook her head. "I don't know." She said. "He wants me." She stated truthfully. Her burrow furrowed in thought. She remembered that Harry had known who the man was. She gave Harry a questioning look. "Who was he?"
Harry and Ron were both taken aback. She didn't know who the guy was.
"You don't know?" Ron asked in utter disbelief.
Paris shook her head in reply.
"He's Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort." Harry told her.
"Oh." Paris nodded dumbly. A thought occurred to her as they were standing there. She gave a weary smile. "You think I work for him don't you?" She already knew the answer; yes.
"Ahhhh." Harry hesitated not really wanting to answer.
Paris gave a weak smile. "I know what you two think and you're wrong. I'm not asking you to believe me; all I am asking is for you to trust me." She looked them both in the eye. "Can you do that?"
Harry and Ron shared a look. Ron shrugged and Harry just nodded.
"Good, now let's get down to business." She walked toward them her arms outstretched. "Take my hand." She commanded firmly but still in a polite manner.
Ron and Harry did as asked and soon found themselves in another room; one that was not familiar to them. Before either of them could ask where they were Paris broke out yelling. "LEO!"
The whitelighter entered the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked at his caller and his emotion changed from sleepy to alert. He could sense that his niece was rather nervous and scared; something that she would never openly admit to. He then noticed that Harry and Ron where in the room as well. He knew it must be urgent if it was in the middle of the night and the two people who didn't trust her with their lives were standing right next to her. Something was definitely up; he just didn't know how up it was.
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Lucius Malfoy sat in his study reading the Daily Prophet. It wasn't unusual for the elder Malfoy to be up this late, he was usually up with meetings or other events. Tonight was one of those nights, except for the fact that he was the employee. He was waiting for the man he served till his life ended, or whatever loyalty was to a Malfoy.
In a blink of an eye a figure emerged from the shadows of the room. The figure was none other than the Dark Lord himself. Malfoy immediately bowed to the man.
"Get up." The figure replied. It was the figure of Tom Riddle; the wizard had chosen this side because of its youth which was quite helpful when one was as old as him.
"How did it go?" Lucius asked him a curious look across his pale face.
Riddle scowled lightly. "Potter interrupted." He stated.
Lucius nodded in understanding, he had the feeling that there was more to this story. After he had heard of the Source's daughter attending Hogwarts, he had immediately informed the Dark Lord. She would be a good asset to his side, but she was harder to get on his side than both had originally thought. Tonight was supposed to be when she caved, but so far from what Lucius could tell she hadn't. This was not a good thing.
"Also Lucius," Riddle began.
"Yes my lord?" He asked.
"Your son, it is time now." He told him simply. There was no need for him to elaborate; the elder Malfoy knew what the old wizard meant. His son needed to choose sides, it was now or never. "I have always held your family in the highest respect. Do not let me down." And with that he left through the shadows leaving Malfoy alone to his thoughts.
-------Sorry it has taken me so long! I have been so busy. Anyway please review. As always I need at least 3 before another chappie will be placed. Thanks. ~Alana----