"Oh, look at my timetable! Double Divination then double History of
Magic!" Fred moaned, screwing up the yellow piece of parchment and shoving
it into his pocket.
Professor McGonagall was striding down the length of Gryffindor table the next morning, handing out timetables.
Paris was looking glumly at her own timetable; she had her worst lesson first: Potions with Professor Snape.
"We've got Potions first," Percy said to Paris.
"So've I," Oliver added. They all looked equally unimpressed at the prospect of a morning of being shouted at and bending over simmering potions.
"Guess who I'll be sitting near?" Paris said sarcastically, looking over her shoulder at Marcus Flint. She went back to stirring her porridge with her spoon.
"You might not," Oliver offered but they all knew how much Snape loved putting Paris near Marcus, his joy would increase ten fold this year as Paris was Head Girl.
"I'll see you in Care of Magical Creatures then," Paris said to Marino when it was time to go. Marino didn't do Potions so had the first part of the morning off.
"Good luck," She murmured and helped herself to some more bacon.
"I'll try and sit near you," Percy said when they left the Great Hall.
"OK," Paris replied. "But you'll waste your time. Another year of sitting near that obnoxious, ignorant, evil b -."
"Not talking about anyone I know now are you?" Marcus asked in his sneering voice. No matter what he said, he always spoke like he had just won a very difficult argument.
"Yeah, you," Oliver said before anyone else realized who it was.
"Well, are you going to finish your sentence then?" Marcus asked Paris, looking directly into her eyes. She shivered right to her bones.
"She'd better not, or I'll be reporting her to the Headmaster," Professor Snape had appeared from what seemed no where. He could've been Marcus' father except Snape was more vicious than Marcus could ever dream of being. Paris, Percy and Oliver all glared at Marcus but said nothing.
"Didn't doubt you wouldn't follow up on your threat. Get in my classroom in silence," Snape said irritably.
The four students entered their Potions classroom, one that hadn't changed since their first year. It was badly lit, damp and cold and didn't inspire anyone to learn.
"You, Knightley. At the front. Flint, you too. Wood at the back," Snape barked. Paris gave Percy and Oliver a significant glance and slumped into her seat. Her arm was touching Marcus' and it took all her will power not to gag.
"Are you alright?" Percy asked, catching up to Paris after Potions. She was walking so quickly, Percy was practically jogging along side her.
Her chest was heaving and her breaths were ragged but Paris held her head high until she was out of earshot from everyone, especially Marcus and Snape.
The two friends stopped in the court yard for their five minute break and when Paris was out of view, she burst into hot, angry tears.
Percy allowed her to cry angrily for a few moments, watching her intently. Paris stopped abruptly with a hiccup and forcefully wiped her tears. She then kicked a stone wall and cried out in both pain and frustration.
"Sorry, Perce," Paris said thickly, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.
"Let it be water off a ducks back," Percy said softly. "Don't give them the satisfaction." Paris nodded to the ground. She felt angry with herself but she deserved to be upset a little. There was a not so distant sounding explosion that made Percy jerk his head around.
"OI! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" He roared and strode off, leaving Paris to sit by herself on a rather uncomfortable stone wall.
She regulated her breathing and tried to calm down.
Never in her whole life had she ever been so humiliated or had she let Marcus or Snape get to her and make her cry.
"Hey!" Oliver said, stopping next to Paris, quite out of breath. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Why?" Paris asked, wiping her eyes self-consciously.
"Are you alright? Have you been crying?" Oliver asked, in the same concerned but angry way he did when he spoke about Quidditch matches.
"I'm fine, fine," Paris said, trying to sound as if she was. Oliver didn't look convinced.
"You should go to Professor McGonagall about them," Oliver said lightly, sitting down on the wall too but facing the other way to Paris.
"Not worth it. I want to forget it," Paris said, picking her fingernail. She heard Oliver sigh but he said no more.
The bell signaled the end of break and they both stood up.
"I'll walk with you," Oliver said. Paris said nothing, she just felt horrible.
"I don't want Fred and George to know about this," Paris said suddenly as they walked over the lush green grass toward the Forbidden Forest for their next lesson.
"Fine," Oliver said with a sigh.
Paris forced a smile as they neared their class; Marino was waving her frantically over. Paris touched Oliver's arm briefly and looked up at him. She looked into his brown eyes, searching for a question but she knew she had his word.
"Where've you been?" Marino shrieked, pulling Paris away from Oliver and toward the gaggle of girls Marino had set up.
Oliver watched Paris laugh at something but it wasn't a laugh that reached her green eyes. They remained hurt and worried.
"Good mornin' class an welcome back to yeh final year!" Professor Hagrid said cheerfully. Hagrid was a rather enormous man with a big black, bushy beard and hair. Paris liked him a lot.
"Now, this year we're doin' all sorts of projects so get in pairs, boy girl," Hagrid said. Oliver saw Marino give Hagrid a most offended look, as she didn't deem any boy good enough to be her partner. Oliver walked rather quickly toward Paris, not really knowing why. He slipped his hand in hers and made her jump.
"Partners?" He whispered. Paris, her eyes wide with surprise, nodded. He led her away from the group of girls and they stood to the side away from everyone, not speaking.
"Everyone got a partner? Righ', this is what I want yeh to do today. Take out yeh sketch books and I want yeh to go in the Forest and lure out a Nymph and draw 'im. OK? Everyone remember how?" Hagrid asked. The class chorused a 'yeah' and set off into the Forest.
Paris and Oliver picked their way into the Forest, looking for signs that a Nymph was close. The trick was to look for holes in trees that were quite low down or teeth marks in leaves.
"They won't be this close to the edge, we'll have to go in deeper," Paris said, taking out her wand.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Oliver asked after about five minutes of venturing into the Forest. It was getting darker and darker with each step they took.
"I'm fine, I've been in the Forest before," Paris replied over her shoulder.
"That's not what I mean," Oliver said quietly. Paris stopped abruptly and turned.
"I am fine. I do not want to talk about Potions, got it?" She said, staring right at Oliver.
"I'm concerned Paris. I know you were crying, you never cry. You didn't even cry when we lost the Cup last year," Oliver argued.
"What, like you did?" Paris said, half jokingly. Oliver didn't look one bit impressed. Paris continued walking, leaving Oliver no choice but to follow her. They were very deep now and couldn't hear anyone's voices.
"OK!" Paris said, turning around so quick, it frightened Oliver so much he almost fell over. "It upset me and I was crying. Is that what you want to hear?"
"You know it isn't! All I'm saying is I'm here if you want me," Oliver said, regaining his breathing. Paris' expression softened ever so slightly.
"I do want you," She said without looking away from Oliver.
"Then I'm here," He said in barely a whisper. His heart was hammering against his chest, making him feel quite sick. Paris stepped toward him, not knowing where she would go from that.
"My life isn't a bed of roses," Paris said in a low voice. Oliver brought his hand up to her face and brushed her hair away from her cheek. He left his hand resting against her face.
"I understand," He replied in an almost growl. Paris closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. Oliver looked into her eyes, he had never been so close to her before and realized just how green her eyes were. He saw tiny blue bolts amongst the green and felt like he could watch them all day.
"Oliver," Paris said, her breath warmed his nose.
Without thinking, Oliver stepped the tiny bit closer to Paris that he had to and he kissed her. He brought his other hand up and held her face between his hands.
There they stood, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, everything forgotten and instead concentrating on each other.
Paris put her hands around Oliver's waist, feeling his Quidditch trained body under his school uniform. Their bodies touched as Paris got closer to him; their chests both exhaling and inhaling air at the same time.
"Paris," Oliver uttered, pulling away from her. Paris felt his warmth leave her and her demons return.
"What?" She replied, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
"I, I, we shouldn't," He stuttered but neither of them moved.
"Why?" Paris breathed. "Why not?"
"I don't know," Oliver admitted. There was no reason why he shouldn't just shut up and continue kissing the beautiful yet mysterious girl in front of him who he had known for seven years but never really got to know.
"Please. It makes me forget everything," Paris pleaded and Oliver kissed her once again.
They stayed there until they heard Hagrid's booming voice cut through the trees, telling everyone to make their way back.
Paris and Oliver walked back through the trees quickly, clutching their blank sketch books but holding each other's hands.
"How'd yeh get on?" Hagrid asked Paris and Oliver as they emerged from the trees. "Manage to get anything?"
"Yeah," Paris said absently.
"Good, good! Finish it off fer homework an hand it in next lesson," Hagrid said happily.
Paris and Oliver, no longer holding hands made their way toward the Great Hall for lunch, both feeling an incredible weight lifted from their shoulders.
Professor McGonagall was striding down the length of Gryffindor table the next morning, handing out timetables.
Paris was looking glumly at her own timetable; she had her worst lesson first: Potions with Professor Snape.
"We've got Potions first," Percy said to Paris.
"So've I," Oliver added. They all looked equally unimpressed at the prospect of a morning of being shouted at and bending over simmering potions.
"Guess who I'll be sitting near?" Paris said sarcastically, looking over her shoulder at Marcus Flint. She went back to stirring her porridge with her spoon.
"You might not," Oliver offered but they all knew how much Snape loved putting Paris near Marcus, his joy would increase ten fold this year as Paris was Head Girl.
"I'll see you in Care of Magical Creatures then," Paris said to Marino when it was time to go. Marino didn't do Potions so had the first part of the morning off.
"Good luck," She murmured and helped herself to some more bacon.
"I'll try and sit near you," Percy said when they left the Great Hall.
"OK," Paris replied. "But you'll waste your time. Another year of sitting near that obnoxious, ignorant, evil b -."
"Not talking about anyone I know now are you?" Marcus asked in his sneering voice. No matter what he said, he always spoke like he had just won a very difficult argument.
"Yeah, you," Oliver said before anyone else realized who it was.
"Well, are you going to finish your sentence then?" Marcus asked Paris, looking directly into her eyes. She shivered right to her bones.
"She'd better not, or I'll be reporting her to the Headmaster," Professor Snape had appeared from what seemed no where. He could've been Marcus' father except Snape was more vicious than Marcus could ever dream of being. Paris, Percy and Oliver all glared at Marcus but said nothing.
"Didn't doubt you wouldn't follow up on your threat. Get in my classroom in silence," Snape said irritably.
The four students entered their Potions classroom, one that hadn't changed since their first year. It was badly lit, damp and cold and didn't inspire anyone to learn.
"You, Knightley. At the front. Flint, you too. Wood at the back," Snape barked. Paris gave Percy and Oliver a significant glance and slumped into her seat. Her arm was touching Marcus' and it took all her will power not to gag.
"Are you alright?" Percy asked, catching up to Paris after Potions. She was walking so quickly, Percy was practically jogging along side her.
Her chest was heaving and her breaths were ragged but Paris held her head high until she was out of earshot from everyone, especially Marcus and Snape.
The two friends stopped in the court yard for their five minute break and when Paris was out of view, she burst into hot, angry tears.
Percy allowed her to cry angrily for a few moments, watching her intently. Paris stopped abruptly with a hiccup and forcefully wiped her tears. She then kicked a stone wall and cried out in both pain and frustration.
"Sorry, Perce," Paris said thickly, looking up at him with red, puffy eyes.
"Let it be water off a ducks back," Percy said softly. "Don't give them the satisfaction." Paris nodded to the ground. She felt angry with herself but she deserved to be upset a little. There was a not so distant sounding explosion that made Percy jerk his head around.
"OI! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?" He roared and strode off, leaving Paris to sit by herself on a rather uncomfortable stone wall.
She regulated her breathing and tried to calm down.
Never in her whole life had she ever been so humiliated or had she let Marcus or Snape get to her and make her cry.
"Hey!" Oliver said, stopping next to Paris, quite out of breath. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Why?" Paris asked, wiping her eyes self-consciously.
"Are you alright? Have you been crying?" Oliver asked, in the same concerned but angry way he did when he spoke about Quidditch matches.
"I'm fine, fine," Paris said, trying to sound as if she was. Oliver didn't look convinced.
"You should go to Professor McGonagall about them," Oliver said lightly, sitting down on the wall too but facing the other way to Paris.
"Not worth it. I want to forget it," Paris said, picking her fingernail. She heard Oliver sigh but he said no more.
The bell signaled the end of break and they both stood up.
"I'll walk with you," Oliver said. Paris said nothing, she just felt horrible.
"I don't want Fred and George to know about this," Paris said suddenly as they walked over the lush green grass toward the Forbidden Forest for their next lesson.
"Fine," Oliver said with a sigh.
Paris forced a smile as they neared their class; Marino was waving her frantically over. Paris touched Oliver's arm briefly and looked up at him. She looked into his brown eyes, searching for a question but she knew she had his word.
"Where've you been?" Marino shrieked, pulling Paris away from Oliver and toward the gaggle of girls Marino had set up.
Oliver watched Paris laugh at something but it wasn't a laugh that reached her green eyes. They remained hurt and worried.
"Good mornin' class an welcome back to yeh final year!" Professor Hagrid said cheerfully. Hagrid was a rather enormous man with a big black, bushy beard and hair. Paris liked him a lot.
"Now, this year we're doin' all sorts of projects so get in pairs, boy girl," Hagrid said. Oliver saw Marino give Hagrid a most offended look, as she didn't deem any boy good enough to be her partner. Oliver walked rather quickly toward Paris, not really knowing why. He slipped his hand in hers and made her jump.
"Partners?" He whispered. Paris, her eyes wide with surprise, nodded. He led her away from the group of girls and they stood to the side away from everyone, not speaking.
"Everyone got a partner? Righ', this is what I want yeh to do today. Take out yeh sketch books and I want yeh to go in the Forest and lure out a Nymph and draw 'im. OK? Everyone remember how?" Hagrid asked. The class chorused a 'yeah' and set off into the Forest.
Paris and Oliver picked their way into the Forest, looking for signs that a Nymph was close. The trick was to look for holes in trees that were quite low down or teeth marks in leaves.
"They won't be this close to the edge, we'll have to go in deeper," Paris said, taking out her wand.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Oliver asked after about five minutes of venturing into the Forest. It was getting darker and darker with each step they took.
"I'm fine, I've been in the Forest before," Paris replied over her shoulder.
"That's not what I mean," Oliver said quietly. Paris stopped abruptly and turned.
"I am fine. I do not want to talk about Potions, got it?" She said, staring right at Oliver.
"I'm concerned Paris. I know you were crying, you never cry. You didn't even cry when we lost the Cup last year," Oliver argued.
"What, like you did?" Paris said, half jokingly. Oliver didn't look one bit impressed. Paris continued walking, leaving Oliver no choice but to follow her. They were very deep now and couldn't hear anyone's voices.
"OK!" Paris said, turning around so quick, it frightened Oliver so much he almost fell over. "It upset me and I was crying. Is that what you want to hear?"
"You know it isn't! All I'm saying is I'm here if you want me," Oliver said, regaining his breathing. Paris' expression softened ever so slightly.
"I do want you," She said without looking away from Oliver.
"Then I'm here," He said in barely a whisper. His heart was hammering against his chest, making him feel quite sick. Paris stepped toward him, not knowing where she would go from that.
"My life isn't a bed of roses," Paris said in a low voice. Oliver brought his hand up to her face and brushed her hair away from her cheek. He left his hand resting against her face.
"I understand," He replied in an almost growl. Paris closed her eyes slowly and opened them again. Oliver looked into her eyes, he had never been so close to her before and realized just how green her eyes were. He saw tiny blue bolts amongst the green and felt like he could watch them all day.
"Oliver," Paris said, her breath warmed his nose.
Without thinking, Oliver stepped the tiny bit closer to Paris that he had to and he kissed her. He brought his other hand up and held her face between his hands.
There they stood, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, everything forgotten and instead concentrating on each other.
Paris put her hands around Oliver's waist, feeling his Quidditch trained body under his school uniform. Their bodies touched as Paris got closer to him; their chests both exhaling and inhaling air at the same time.
"Paris," Oliver uttered, pulling away from her. Paris felt his warmth leave her and her demons return.
"What?" She replied, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
"I, I, we shouldn't," He stuttered but neither of them moved.
"Why?" Paris breathed. "Why not?"
"I don't know," Oliver admitted. There was no reason why he shouldn't just shut up and continue kissing the beautiful yet mysterious girl in front of him who he had known for seven years but never really got to know.
"Please. It makes me forget everything," Paris pleaded and Oliver kissed her once again.
They stayed there until they heard Hagrid's booming voice cut through the trees, telling everyone to make their way back.
Paris and Oliver walked back through the trees quickly, clutching their blank sketch books but holding each other's hands.
"How'd yeh get on?" Hagrid asked Paris and Oliver as they emerged from the trees. "Manage to get anything?"
"Yeah," Paris said absently.
"Good, good! Finish it off fer homework an hand it in next lesson," Hagrid said happily.
Paris and Oliver, no longer holding hands made their way toward the Great Hall for lunch, both feeling an incredible weight lifted from their shoulders.