Paris and Oliver left Dumbledore's office in silence. They had exhausted
all conversation but Paris still had so many questions, questions
Dumbledore didn't know the answers to or wasn't willing to tell.
They had been in the office for a long time as outside was turning dark and the corridors become chilly. Paris held the stone tablet in her hand as Dumbledore had let her have it. She knew it'd drive her crazy trying to figure it out.
"I want you to go to Gryffindor Tower and stay there where you'll be safe," Oliver said suddenly as Paris went to walk up the steps leading to the Tower.
"Where are you going?" Paris asked.
"I need to think. Stay in Gryffindor Tower, I'll see you tomorrow," Oliver said vaguely and turned to go out the main entrance doors without so much a backward glance at Paris.
Fighting the tears, Paris ran up the stone steps and burst into her common room. She had missed dinner but didn't care, she bolted up to her dormitory and locked the door.
Paris sat on the edge of her bed and held her head in her hands. Her mind was swarming with thoughts, all jumbled up with each other. She was pregnant, Oliver didn't want to know her anymore, she was alone, she'd be expelled from school, Mrs. Weasley would be so ashamed...the thoughts kept on coming.
Paris took the prophecy from her pocket and looked at it. At her initials and Oliver's. At the dates and initials she didn't understand. What did they mean? She had never even heard of the Gemini and now she was one half of it. How dare this happen to her, what had she done to deserve this?
Paris couldn't hold it any longer, she but her hands over her eyes and sobbed and sobbed.
Oliver ran down the stone steps to the only place he felt safe, the Quidditch pitch. His heart was hammering against his ribcage but he kept running until he felt the familiar grass beneath his feet.
He unlocked the changing rooms and reached for his broom then went back on the pitch.
He didn't quite know what to do with himself, the Quidditch pitch hadn't made him feel any better at all. He felt sick. He felt such an idiot. Most of all he felt angry. He had understood who's initials they were under Paris' and he did not like it.
"WHY ME?" He shouted up to sky, which was a horrible grey colour, all streaked with black. The shouting stung his throat but he didn't care. Why him? Why couldn't he just have a nice girlfriend who he could kiss once in a while and only have to worry about the twins knocking themselves out with their Beaters bats?
Why did it have to be him? He didn't want to be a father, he was only seventeen!
He couldn't support it, he had no idea how to look after one, he hadn't even held a baby before!
Oliver swung his broom and whacked the grass with it. It made him feel slightly better. He did it again and again until the air around him was filled with small twigs from the tail of his beloved broom.
Paris heard someone shout. She got up and looked out her window, she could see Oliver on the Quidditch pitch.
It made her angry, he didn't want to be with her so he could go play Quidditch? Men!
Without wiping her eyes, Paris bolted back out of her dormitory and marched straight out of Gryffindor Tower leaving the shouts of 'Are you ok?' behind her.
She ran down the steps, passing a few younger students who gave her funny looks. Paris realized she must look a complete state but she didn't really care. She just wanted to get to Oliver and give him a good kicking for being so stupid. It was his fault she was in this mess.
She could now hear him thrashing the life out of his broom for some reason.
"Oliver?" She said and he stopped and turned around. His cheeks had gone red, the way they did when he was worked up or tired from playing Quidditch. Paris had always thought that cute.
"I told you stay in Gryffindor Tower," He said, panting. He threw his broom down and collapsed on the grass.
"I didn't want to," Paris said, sounding like a spoilt brat. Oliver had no right to tell her what to do anyway. She sat down next to Oliver on the grass, which was slightly damp.
"What are we going to do?" She sighed, feeling herself about to cry again. She wasn't mad at Oliver, he was just as worried as she was.
"I don't know," Oliver admitted, picking some grass.
Paris sighed but it turned into a sob and before she knew it, she was crying again. Oliver put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him so her head could rest on his shoulder.
"Why is it always me? I have enough to cope with!" Paris wailed. "I'm Head Girl, I'm Seeker, I have to look after the twins, I have to listen to Marino, I help Cedric in class, I have to be nice to everyone, I have to put up with Marcus! Everyone's so dependant on me but who have I got to depend on?"
"Well you've got me," Oliver said.
"True. But you don't understand what it's like. I have to be brave for everyone and pretend I don't have problems. No-one asked me how I felt when my parents left me, no-one! Everyone was like, oh there there. Never mind, you'll get over it. But I haven't, Oliver! I haven't heard from them in seven years! And now I'm a teenage mother! I bet my darling older sister Arrietty would love to see me now. She's a doctor Oliver and I'm stuck with a kid, no life except changing nappies!"
Paris forcefully wiped her eyes and felt a little embarrassed for talking about her family, it felt odd. She hadn't spoken Arrietty's name in ages. She hated her older sister but Paris still missed her. Arrietty had been the favorite, more pretty, much more smarter...no, Paris wasn't going there.
"You're not the only with problems you know. No-one ever asks me how I'm feeling or why I like Quidditch so much. I like it because I have no choice," Oliver said quietly.
"What?" Paris said suddenly. It was like Oliver had just said he was giving up breathing.
"I have three older brothers. Three of the smuggest, most obnoxious wankers that have ever graced this earth and I'm their widdle baby bruvver Oli who can't win the stupid Quidditch Cup. You don't have to see your sister, my brothers make sure they see me. All three of them team Captains, all three won the Cup, all three now professional players. It's wonderful," Oliver said bitterly.
Paris' mouth hung open in probably the most unattractive way possible. She never knew Oliver had brothers!
"I, didn't, I had no idea Oliver," Paris stuttered.
"You wouldn't. Robert left as I started and Daniel and Devon had already left. Plus, you never asked," Oliver replied. It was very true, Oliver just struck Paris as an only child. He was confident and rather protective of his things.
"I'm sorry," Paris said feebly.
"Don't matter. We all have problems," Oliver said roughly. "Now to sort out this one." He pointed to Paris' stomach.
"I understand if you don't want to continue things," Paris said shakily. Of course she wouldn't understand!
"Paris. Do you really think I'm going to say goodbye and that'll be it? You think I'd do that to you?" Oliver asked. Paris shrugged. He might.
"Of course I'm not going to! I can't just stop seeing you, you're in all my classes and my Seeker. Plus, I'm not that horrible. That little thing that is now growing happily inside you is mine as well as yours. I don't quite understand this prophecy thing yet but I'll stand by you and I'll do my best to be a good Dad. It's what we have to do, you heard Dumbledore, we were chosen for this. We were meant to have a baby. It's supposed to be joyous news, Paris," Oliver said.
"I know. I just can't believe I'm pregnant. What is everyone going to say?" Paris said, thinking about the fit Marino would have when she found out Paris was going to get fat.
"Maybe we'll just keep it quiet until we're comfortable with it. I'm telling you now Paris, I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life," Oliver admitted. Paris laughed a little and Oliver kissed her.
"We can do this," Oliver whispered. "I'll make sure we do it."
Paris smiled into Oliver's chest, she felt safe and she felt loved. And she wasn't so scared anymore.
They had been in the office for a long time as outside was turning dark and the corridors become chilly. Paris held the stone tablet in her hand as Dumbledore had let her have it. She knew it'd drive her crazy trying to figure it out.
"I want you to go to Gryffindor Tower and stay there where you'll be safe," Oliver said suddenly as Paris went to walk up the steps leading to the Tower.
"Where are you going?" Paris asked.
"I need to think. Stay in Gryffindor Tower, I'll see you tomorrow," Oliver said vaguely and turned to go out the main entrance doors without so much a backward glance at Paris.
Fighting the tears, Paris ran up the stone steps and burst into her common room. She had missed dinner but didn't care, she bolted up to her dormitory and locked the door.
Paris sat on the edge of her bed and held her head in her hands. Her mind was swarming with thoughts, all jumbled up with each other. She was pregnant, Oliver didn't want to know her anymore, she was alone, she'd be expelled from school, Mrs. Weasley would be so ashamed...the thoughts kept on coming.
Paris took the prophecy from her pocket and looked at it. At her initials and Oliver's. At the dates and initials she didn't understand. What did they mean? She had never even heard of the Gemini and now she was one half of it. How dare this happen to her, what had she done to deserve this?
Paris couldn't hold it any longer, she but her hands over her eyes and sobbed and sobbed.
Oliver ran down the stone steps to the only place he felt safe, the Quidditch pitch. His heart was hammering against his ribcage but he kept running until he felt the familiar grass beneath his feet.
He unlocked the changing rooms and reached for his broom then went back on the pitch.
He didn't quite know what to do with himself, the Quidditch pitch hadn't made him feel any better at all. He felt sick. He felt such an idiot. Most of all he felt angry. He had understood who's initials they were under Paris' and he did not like it.
"WHY ME?" He shouted up to sky, which was a horrible grey colour, all streaked with black. The shouting stung his throat but he didn't care. Why him? Why couldn't he just have a nice girlfriend who he could kiss once in a while and only have to worry about the twins knocking themselves out with their Beaters bats?
Why did it have to be him? He didn't want to be a father, he was only seventeen!
He couldn't support it, he had no idea how to look after one, he hadn't even held a baby before!
Oliver swung his broom and whacked the grass with it. It made him feel slightly better. He did it again and again until the air around him was filled with small twigs from the tail of his beloved broom.
Paris heard someone shout. She got up and looked out her window, she could see Oliver on the Quidditch pitch.
It made her angry, he didn't want to be with her so he could go play Quidditch? Men!
Without wiping her eyes, Paris bolted back out of her dormitory and marched straight out of Gryffindor Tower leaving the shouts of 'Are you ok?' behind her.
She ran down the steps, passing a few younger students who gave her funny looks. Paris realized she must look a complete state but she didn't really care. She just wanted to get to Oliver and give him a good kicking for being so stupid. It was his fault she was in this mess.
She could now hear him thrashing the life out of his broom for some reason.
"Oliver?" She said and he stopped and turned around. His cheeks had gone red, the way they did when he was worked up or tired from playing Quidditch. Paris had always thought that cute.
"I told you stay in Gryffindor Tower," He said, panting. He threw his broom down and collapsed on the grass.
"I didn't want to," Paris said, sounding like a spoilt brat. Oliver had no right to tell her what to do anyway. She sat down next to Oliver on the grass, which was slightly damp.
"What are we going to do?" She sighed, feeling herself about to cry again. She wasn't mad at Oliver, he was just as worried as she was.
"I don't know," Oliver admitted, picking some grass.
Paris sighed but it turned into a sob and before she knew it, she was crying again. Oliver put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him so her head could rest on his shoulder.
"Why is it always me? I have enough to cope with!" Paris wailed. "I'm Head Girl, I'm Seeker, I have to look after the twins, I have to listen to Marino, I help Cedric in class, I have to be nice to everyone, I have to put up with Marcus! Everyone's so dependant on me but who have I got to depend on?"
"Well you've got me," Oliver said.
"True. But you don't understand what it's like. I have to be brave for everyone and pretend I don't have problems. No-one asked me how I felt when my parents left me, no-one! Everyone was like, oh there there. Never mind, you'll get over it. But I haven't, Oliver! I haven't heard from them in seven years! And now I'm a teenage mother! I bet my darling older sister Arrietty would love to see me now. She's a doctor Oliver and I'm stuck with a kid, no life except changing nappies!"
Paris forcefully wiped her eyes and felt a little embarrassed for talking about her family, it felt odd. She hadn't spoken Arrietty's name in ages. She hated her older sister but Paris still missed her. Arrietty had been the favorite, more pretty, much more smarter...no, Paris wasn't going there.
"You're not the only with problems you know. No-one ever asks me how I'm feeling or why I like Quidditch so much. I like it because I have no choice," Oliver said quietly.
"What?" Paris said suddenly. It was like Oliver had just said he was giving up breathing.
"I have three older brothers. Three of the smuggest, most obnoxious wankers that have ever graced this earth and I'm their widdle baby bruvver Oli who can't win the stupid Quidditch Cup. You don't have to see your sister, my brothers make sure they see me. All three of them team Captains, all three won the Cup, all three now professional players. It's wonderful," Oliver said bitterly.
Paris' mouth hung open in probably the most unattractive way possible. She never knew Oliver had brothers!
"I, didn't, I had no idea Oliver," Paris stuttered.
"You wouldn't. Robert left as I started and Daniel and Devon had already left. Plus, you never asked," Oliver replied. It was very true, Oliver just struck Paris as an only child. He was confident and rather protective of his things.
"I'm sorry," Paris said feebly.
"Don't matter. We all have problems," Oliver said roughly. "Now to sort out this one." He pointed to Paris' stomach.
"I understand if you don't want to continue things," Paris said shakily. Of course she wouldn't understand!
"Paris. Do you really think I'm going to say goodbye and that'll be it? You think I'd do that to you?" Oliver asked. Paris shrugged. He might.
"Of course I'm not going to! I can't just stop seeing you, you're in all my classes and my Seeker. Plus, I'm not that horrible. That little thing that is now growing happily inside you is mine as well as yours. I don't quite understand this prophecy thing yet but I'll stand by you and I'll do my best to be a good Dad. It's what we have to do, you heard Dumbledore, we were chosen for this. We were meant to have a baby. It's supposed to be joyous news, Paris," Oliver said.
"I know. I just can't believe I'm pregnant. What is everyone going to say?" Paris said, thinking about the fit Marino would have when she found out Paris was going to get fat.
"Maybe we'll just keep it quiet until we're comfortable with it. I'm telling you now Paris, I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life," Oliver admitted. Paris laughed a little and Oliver kissed her.
"We can do this," Oliver whispered. "I'll make sure we do it."
Paris smiled into Oliver's chest, she felt safe and she felt loved. And she wasn't so scared anymore.