"So?" Paris asked, biting her lip in anticipation.
"I think I'm going to change mine," Oliver said quickly, grabbing for his letter.
"No! Leave it, it's nice and it comes from you," Paris said, prying his letter out of his hands. "What about mine?"
"It's really good. And explained a lot better. Please let me change mine!" Oliver said desperately, leaning across the table again to grab for the parchment.
"There's no time, we need to send them now before the Christmas rush," Paris replied, sealing Oliver's and her own letter with her wand.
Paris had written her letter to Molly and Arthur Weasley in about half an hour. She wrote in her small, neat writing in clear, consisive ways.
Oliver had taken three hours to write his, spilt his ink twice and broken five quills. His hand was still shaking. Clearly, his family wouldn't be too pleased at the contents.
"Come on, let's take them now then we'll be in time for Madam Pomfry. Actually we'll be a little early which never hurt anyone," Paris said, standing up. Oliver went a little pale, or paler than he already was.
"I forgot about Madam Pomfry. Oh, she isn't going to poke you about with stuff, is she?" Oliver asked, pulling a face.
"Probably," Paris said off handly. "Come on."
Madam Pomfry had declared herself Paris' midwife and as she was the only qualified doctor in miles, Paris didn't mind one bit.
She knew Madam Pomfry well, as did most of the Quidditch teams due to their injuries they got almost every time they played Quidditch. Paris and Oliver's parents slash guardians were well aware of what The Gemini prophecy was all about. It was a myth like story but with a twist, it was actually true.
Never had any of them thought in a million years that their children (in Paris' case, their sort of adopted child) were going to be part of one of the oldest prophecies in the world.
"I hope they take this right way," Oliver sighed as he carried one of the school barn owls to the window in the Owlery. "I can just imagine their faces."
"Well it's out of their control. We're adults Oliver and it wasn't our fault we were chosen for this prophecy thing. They'll have to take it the right way. It's a happy time for us and should be for them," Paris said, carrying Nelly to the window also.
"It's only brought problems so far," Oliver said quietly, releasing his owl. Paris did the same and they watched them fly away in different directions, carrying their letters.
"I know but it won't be a problem. We were shocked but the sooner we embrace this, the sooner we can be happy. You are happy about having a baby, aren't you?" Paris asked as she and Oliver left the Owlery hand in hand.
"Of course I am Paris! It's just I never expected to have children, especially this early and especially with you," Oliver replied.
"Pardon?" Paris said, looking at Oliver. Was he saying he was too good for her?
"You, you're all happy and popular and so pretty. I never quite imagined you'd settle with me, of all people," Oliver admitted. Paris felt the intense urge to kick him for being stupid, which was happening more and more often.
"Oliver, if you're telling me that you never felt in your heart that we belong together and knew we would then you're not the Oliver Wood I know. I've known since we met at the Sorting Ceremony that I was going to love you for the rest of my life. It was meant to be Oliver," Paris said, tears stinging her eyes.
"Then why'd you never tell me? Why'd you make me wait all these years while you had the time of your life? Why'd you make me watch you with Charlie if you knew you loved me?" Oliver argued. Paris sighed.
"Because, I was young and unsure and so incredibly shy around you. And you never gave any hint you liked me back," She said simply.
Oliver was quiet because he knew it was true. In truth, he had been quite mean to Paris over the years. Not calling her names mean but not really talking to her or bothering to get to know her. He now knew what he had been missing out on.
"Then I'm sorry. Things will work out, I just need time. I'm scared but you know I'll do anything for you and whoever's in there," Oliver promised. He patted her tummy lightly, lovingly.
Before they knew it, they were standing outside the hospital wing. They had came here without realizing.
"Go on," Oliver said, pushing open the door for Paris. She hesitated for a moment and looked up at Oliver. She gave him a smile and went through the doors.
"At last!" Madam Pomfry yelled. "Where have you been?"
"Sorry Miss, posting letters," Paris said, approaching the matron. Madam Pomfry was a stern looking woman but she could be kindly when she wanted to. Today, she chose not to be.
"Sit down and take your jacket off. Yes?" Madam Pomfry noticed Oliver standing awkwardly at the door. Paris sat on the bed and slid her jacket off, watching Oliver, bemused.
"Are you staying or going? Staying, get over here, sit down and hush up. Going, go then," Madam Pomfry said shortly. Oliver hurried and sat down on a chair facing Paris.
"Glad we cleared that up. Now hold still while I check your blood pressure," Madam Pomfry instructed, wrenching Paris' arm to her and wrapping an arm band around her upper arm. Sometime the Muggle way was the best way.
Madam Pomfry made a satisfied noise and put the blood pressure pump away.
She checked in Paris' mouth and eyes, weighed and measured her and also took a blood sample, after seeing said sample, Oliver had to be excused so he could lay in one of the beds until his hyperventilating ceased.
"Well you seem healthy enough. Any problems so far?" Madam Pomfry asked.
"No, not really. I feel a bit sick sometimes and a bit weepy but that's it," Paris replied honestly.
"Well you will do. The sickness can start any day, when it does come to me and I'll give you something for it if you like. I want to see you again before the Christmas holidays but I'll give you a message when the time comes. You're free to leave. That is if Master Wood is up to walking back to Gryffindor Tower," Madam Pomfry said, giving Oliver a hard look. Paris noticed the tiny bit of sarcasm in her tone and suppressed a smile.
"I'm fine," Oliver said sheepishly and put his arm around Paris, mainly to steady himself incase he keeled over. Madam Pomfry rolled her eyes and she and Paris exchanged a small smile.
"I think I'm going to change mine," Oliver said quickly, grabbing for his letter.
"No! Leave it, it's nice and it comes from you," Paris said, prying his letter out of his hands. "What about mine?"
"It's really good. And explained a lot better. Please let me change mine!" Oliver said desperately, leaning across the table again to grab for the parchment.
"There's no time, we need to send them now before the Christmas rush," Paris replied, sealing Oliver's and her own letter with her wand.
Paris had written her letter to Molly and Arthur Weasley in about half an hour. She wrote in her small, neat writing in clear, consisive ways.
Oliver had taken three hours to write his, spilt his ink twice and broken five quills. His hand was still shaking. Clearly, his family wouldn't be too pleased at the contents.
"Come on, let's take them now then we'll be in time for Madam Pomfry. Actually we'll be a little early which never hurt anyone," Paris said, standing up. Oliver went a little pale, or paler than he already was.
"I forgot about Madam Pomfry. Oh, she isn't going to poke you about with stuff, is she?" Oliver asked, pulling a face.
"Probably," Paris said off handly. "Come on."
Madam Pomfry had declared herself Paris' midwife and as she was the only qualified doctor in miles, Paris didn't mind one bit.
She knew Madam Pomfry well, as did most of the Quidditch teams due to their injuries they got almost every time they played Quidditch. Paris and Oliver's parents slash guardians were well aware of what The Gemini prophecy was all about. It was a myth like story but with a twist, it was actually true.
Never had any of them thought in a million years that their children (in Paris' case, their sort of adopted child) were going to be part of one of the oldest prophecies in the world.
"I hope they take this right way," Oliver sighed as he carried one of the school barn owls to the window in the Owlery. "I can just imagine their faces."
"Well it's out of their control. We're adults Oliver and it wasn't our fault we were chosen for this prophecy thing. They'll have to take it the right way. It's a happy time for us and should be for them," Paris said, carrying Nelly to the window also.
"It's only brought problems so far," Oliver said quietly, releasing his owl. Paris did the same and they watched them fly away in different directions, carrying their letters.
"I know but it won't be a problem. We were shocked but the sooner we embrace this, the sooner we can be happy. You are happy about having a baby, aren't you?" Paris asked as she and Oliver left the Owlery hand in hand.
"Of course I am Paris! It's just I never expected to have children, especially this early and especially with you," Oliver replied.
"Pardon?" Paris said, looking at Oliver. Was he saying he was too good for her?
"You, you're all happy and popular and so pretty. I never quite imagined you'd settle with me, of all people," Oliver admitted. Paris felt the intense urge to kick him for being stupid, which was happening more and more often.
"Oliver, if you're telling me that you never felt in your heart that we belong together and knew we would then you're not the Oliver Wood I know. I've known since we met at the Sorting Ceremony that I was going to love you for the rest of my life. It was meant to be Oliver," Paris said, tears stinging her eyes.
"Then why'd you never tell me? Why'd you make me wait all these years while you had the time of your life? Why'd you make me watch you with Charlie if you knew you loved me?" Oliver argued. Paris sighed.
"Because, I was young and unsure and so incredibly shy around you. And you never gave any hint you liked me back," She said simply.
Oliver was quiet because he knew it was true. In truth, he had been quite mean to Paris over the years. Not calling her names mean but not really talking to her or bothering to get to know her. He now knew what he had been missing out on.
"Then I'm sorry. Things will work out, I just need time. I'm scared but you know I'll do anything for you and whoever's in there," Oliver promised. He patted her tummy lightly, lovingly.
Before they knew it, they were standing outside the hospital wing. They had came here without realizing.
"Go on," Oliver said, pushing open the door for Paris. She hesitated for a moment and looked up at Oliver. She gave him a smile and went through the doors.
"At last!" Madam Pomfry yelled. "Where have you been?"
"Sorry Miss, posting letters," Paris said, approaching the matron. Madam Pomfry was a stern looking woman but she could be kindly when she wanted to. Today, she chose not to be.
"Sit down and take your jacket off. Yes?" Madam Pomfry noticed Oliver standing awkwardly at the door. Paris sat on the bed and slid her jacket off, watching Oliver, bemused.
"Are you staying or going? Staying, get over here, sit down and hush up. Going, go then," Madam Pomfry said shortly. Oliver hurried and sat down on a chair facing Paris.
"Glad we cleared that up. Now hold still while I check your blood pressure," Madam Pomfry instructed, wrenching Paris' arm to her and wrapping an arm band around her upper arm. Sometime the Muggle way was the best way.
Madam Pomfry made a satisfied noise and put the blood pressure pump away.
She checked in Paris' mouth and eyes, weighed and measured her and also took a blood sample, after seeing said sample, Oliver had to be excused so he could lay in one of the beds until his hyperventilating ceased.
"Well you seem healthy enough. Any problems so far?" Madam Pomfry asked.
"No, not really. I feel a bit sick sometimes and a bit weepy but that's it," Paris replied honestly.
"Well you will do. The sickness can start any day, when it does come to me and I'll give you something for it if you like. I want to see you again before the Christmas holidays but I'll give you a message when the time comes. You're free to leave. That is if Master Wood is up to walking back to Gryffindor Tower," Madam Pomfry said, giving Oliver a hard look. Paris noticed the tiny bit of sarcasm in her tone and suppressed a smile.
"I'm fine," Oliver said sheepishly and put his arm around Paris, mainly to steady himself incase he keeled over. Madam Pomfry rolled her eyes and she and Paris exchanged a small smile.