Boxing Day morning was a very rushed affair. Marino was going home for the
remainder of the holiday, something she was not relishing and she couldn't
find most of her belongings. Paris and Oliver were going back to Oliver's
for the day then Paris would return to the Burrow. The Weasley's were
visiting relatives but Fred had insisted Angelina come over today and was
currently trying to talk Mrs. Weasley in allowing him and Angelina to stay
alone in the Burrow.
"Are you ready?" Oliver asked Paris gingerly. He really was not looking
forward to going home.
"Yeah, are you?" Paris asked, smoothing her pony tail.
"No but we have to go. If any of my brothers say anything, offer to walk you anywhere, try to give you something, do not take their offers," Oliver warned.
"Oh come on, they can't be that bad," Paris scoffed.
"I mean it," Oliver said. He shut his eyes as if praying for help, his brothers just loved to embarrass him in any way possible and they had plenty of ammunition.
The pair said good bye and Oliver thanked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for letting him stay.
"Come on then, no time like the present," Oliver said, picking up his trunk. Paris took his hand, she was fairly nervous but clearly not as much as Oliver.
The pair Apparated and before Paris knew it, her feet had landed on hard earth. She opened her eyes and looked around. They had Apparated right outside Oliver's house, and what a house!
It was a large brick house, with an ample front garden all covered with perfect sparkling snow, and fenced off with a neat little white picket.
"It's fake," Oliver said quickly, motioning to the snow and dragging Paris up the path toward his house. "Not that we need fake snow up here."
"It's very nice," Paris assured, looking at the large glass windows. She could see a large, over-decorated Christmas tree through one of them.
Oliver unlocked the front door with his wand and stepped through. Inside the house was magnificent, everything gleamed and there were so many shiny things to occupy Paris for the rest of the day. She caught herself in the gold gilded mirror that was hanging in the hall and quickly sorted herself out. She really needed a hat when she Apparated as it didn't do wonders for one's hair.
"Mum?" Oliver called reluctantly. Paris heard some movement and suddenly felt really sick. She glanced about nervously, wondering where the hell the bathroom would be. Paris decided there wasn't one likely to be in the hall so she concentrated on taking deep breaths.
"Here they bloody come," Oliver muttered as Paris heard what sounded like a heard of Hippogriffs thundering down the grand staircase near her.
The next bit was a blur of bodies and shouting. Paris guessed it was Oliver's brothers as all four of them looked similar.
"Paris, meet Robert, Daniel and Devon," Oliver said dully. Paris smiled but could feel her shyness over coming her.
"So this is Paris, Oli you didn't tell us she was so, lovely," Daniel, Oliver's second eldest brother said.
"Um, thank you," Paris replied, feeling her cheeks go red. She still felt really sick.
"Where's Mum?" Oliver said shortly.
"Now, now Oli, no need to rush. We want to hear more about you friend," Devon smiled, slipping his arm around Paris' shoulder and leading her off into a huge room Paris took as the living room.
"You're a Seeker, I hear? So was I. Shame little Oli can't win the Cup, really. I should think you'd like to see your name on the trophy, no?" Devon was saying, Paris was nodding and trying to see where Oliver had got off to.
"By the way, Oli. This came for you yesterday," Robert said producing a large, sparkly red love heart that was tinkling a little tune from the little girls who were hounding him at Halloween. Oliver was busy trying to yank it out of his eldest brother's reach and failing.
It turned out Oliver's parents were in the room Paris had just been led into. She felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly as she tried to smile nicely at her prospective in laws.
Oliver had now joined her finally and Paris was slightly aware at being introduced.
"How do you do?" Paris said, mustering all her strength. Oliver's mother smiled when she heard Paris speak.
"Nice to hear an English voice for once," She said lightly. She was a youngish looking woman with an air of past glamour about her; she had longish dark blonde hair and a kindly face.
"So nice to finally meet the girl Olli's been raving about," Oliver's father said, shaking Paris' hand briskly. It shook most of Paris' body; Oliver's father was quite clearly Beater material.
"Dad," Oliver groaned but his father caught him up in a tight embrace, glad to see his youngest son again.
"I've made some lunch, if you two would like to come through," Mrs. Wood said kindly, putting a hand on Paris' back and leading her through to yet another room in the house. "How are you feeling, my dear?" Mrs. Wood asked, concerned when she saw Paris turn a nasty shade of green.
"Could you point me to the bathroom please?" Paris managed to say before clamping a hand over her mouth and saying no more.
"I can't believe I threw up in your parent's house! Whatever must they think of me?" Paris wailed to Oliver. They were shut in the downstairs bathroom and Paris had just got her first bout of morning sickness.
"It doesn't matter. Its part of the baby thing," Oliver reassured, rubbing her arm lovingly.
"I hope your Mum doesn't think it's because I smelt her cooking. I did feel sick before hand but smelling it just about finished me off," Paris explained, hoping Mrs. Wood understood.
"Don't worry. I'll take you upstairs where you can lay down for a bit, yeah?" Oliver offered and Paris accepted.
Oliver's bedroom was typical him. Paris just had to roll her eyes when she saw it, all covered in posters and various certificates. She even spotted a small broomstick laid lovingly on its own shelf, most probably Oliver's first.
"Here, lay down. Do you want a drink of water or something?" Oliver offered but Paris was busy smirking at something. Oliver followed her gaze and swore out of shock. Paris had spotted the framed photograph he kept of her on his desk.
"I Owled Molly in advance to ask her to put away my picture of you," Paris said slyly, lying down.
"Bugger," Was all Oliver could say.
"You could've got a better photo Oliver, I look quite horrible. And how old is that exactly?" Paris said, squinting and trying to see when it was taken. She only looked about sixteen.
"You have to make do when you're trying to take a secret picture of someone," Oliver said matter of factly. "It was the summer of sixth year so you were seventeen and that's the most beautiful I had ever seen you."
Paris looked at herself; she was outside by the looks of it and sitting up. It looked as if she was reading something and Paris watched as her photographic self tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip thoughtfully again and again.
"We have all the time in the world to pose for photographs," Paris sighed and wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck and gave him a long kiss.
"So have you thought about your future?" Mrs. Wood asked. It was later in the afternoon and it was talk time.
"We have a house, we think. It belongs to Paris' family," Oliver explained.
"And where's that?" Mr. Wood asked Paris.
"It's in Ottery St. Catchpole, it's a small village. There's a family there who I'm very close to and they live near-by," Paris replied.
"And what of your family?" Mrs. Wood asked. Paris gulped and she felt Oliver give her hand a squeeze.
"I'm a Muggle-born witch. My parents weren't too happy with the revelation and I haven't spoken to them since," Paris said simply. Mr. and Mrs. Wood were quiet for a little while; Mrs. Wood sipped now and then from a glass filled with brandy while everyone thought everything through.
"You seem a very nice young lady and we only want the best for our son. This will be a difficult time for all of us but I want you both to know you will have both mine and Lorraine's full support," Mr. Wood said after the silence.
"Thanks Dad," Oliver said bashfully.
"Have you thought of any names?" Mrs. Wood asked turning the conversation onto a lighter note.
"Not really," Paris replied. "There's a few I like but the right name will come eventually."
"Who's filling in for Paris on the team then Oli?" Mr. Wood asked. Oliver's mouth dropped slightly.
"Um, I haven't found anyone just yet," He mumbled.
"Well she can't play anymore, not in her condition. I hope you're making her as comfortable as possible Oliver," His father reminded him.
"I know," Oliver muttered, thinking over all the Gryffindor's. There wasn't anyone who came to mind who would be good enough for the Gryffindor team.
Paris and Oliver spent the remainder of the afternoon chatting and laughing the time away. Oliver's parents were very nice people, if a little hostile at first. It was understandable, Paris wouldn't want to let Oliver go and leave her either.
Paris spent the rest of the holidays at The Burrow with Fred, George and Percy. She'd arranged for Oliver and Marino to meet them back at The Burrow so they could travel by Knight Bus back to school together.
"Complete cows. You should've seen the mountain of crap they had. I had to endure every relative I have coming over and saying how lovely they were and how adorable and all they said to me I was looking a bit peaky. Peaky!" Marino was raging to Paris while they were waiting for The Knight Bus.
"I threw up in Oliver's house as soon as I walked in the door," Paris said mildly and this cheered Marino up immensely.
"I can't wait to Apparate, six Galleons altogether this damn Bus has me. I could be spending that in Zonko's!" Fred was complaining when a thought entered his head. "Hey Paris, you remember Stan Shunpike, don't you? He likes you, see if you can get us on for free!"
"No!" Paris replied, embarrassed at the thought. "He does not like me."
"He does! Come on, I don't want to pay another three Galleons for the Bus fare. Go on and I'll treat you to a Chocolate Frog," Fred insisted.
"Last of the big spenders," Marino muttered but quickly smiled sweetly when she caught him looking at her. Just as she grinned, The Knight Bus appeared, shooting everyone's hair and robes backwards.
"Good evening, I am Stan Shunpike your ticket master for this evening," Stan announced, stepping off the violently purple triple Decker bus.
"Hi Stan," Paris said as Fred pushed her forward toward him.
"H-Hi Paris," He replied bashfully, his pimply cheeks turning red. "Are you on your way back to Hogwarts? Did you have a nice Christmas?"
"Yes thank you Stan. How much did you say it was to go to Hogwarts? I've completely forgotten," Paris asked nicely, feeling silly.
"T-Three Galleons but I'm sure I can wave the fare for you," Stan replied dreamily. Paris smiled widely and Stan hurried to pick up her trunk for her.
"Ahem," Fred cleared his throat loudly so Stan would notice the other five people waiting for the Bus too.
"These are my friends," Paris said, leaving the question lingering. "How much for them?"
"No charge," Stan said absently as he was now quite close to Paris.
"Thanks Stan, you really are kind," Paris said and stepped onto the Bus, shooting Fred filthy looks.
She settled herself on a dining room chair in the far corner of the Bus whilst everyone heaved their trunks on. As soon as Percy's left foot left the ground, the Bus took off at an abominable speed sending everyone bar Paris and Stan backwards.
"Merlin!" Marino cried, attempting to get up off the floor, her blonde curls all over her face. The twins seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely while Oliver and Percy were trying to cling onto anything that didn't move.
The group's bus journey soon ended and all were glad for it. Paris thanked Stan and even gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him turn a non human shade of purple.
Marino and Paris were in their room, packing away their things when Artemis burst in, brandishing the Christmas special Daily Prophet.
"What in the name of all things magical is this?" She demanded, waving the paper in Paris' face.
"Hey, steady on!" Marino cried, snatching the paper from Artemis and throwing it on Paris' bed.
"Pregnant? By Oliver Wood? How could you not tell me?" Artemis demanded in her lofty voice.
"I was going to tell you Art, things have been difficult," Paris protested, not wanting to fall out with her dorm mate.
"Not that difficult, if you're shagging about with your Captain! I knew that was the reason you were on the team!" Artemis said rather dramatically.
"Artemis!" Marino exclaimed angrily, stepping between her and Paris. Artemis stepped away from Marino but she still looked angry. At what Paris wasn't so sure about.
"If that's what Paris thinks of her friend then that's fine. I hope you're ready to face a whole school of people full of questions Paris because from whom I've talked to, everyone's pretty interested," Artemis retorted and flounced away to her bed area where she threw open her wardrobe and began putting away all her new Christmas clothes.
"Forget it," Marino reassured but it made Paris feel quite sick. Now the whole school knows. What would they say?
"Yeah, are you?" Paris asked, smoothing her pony tail.
"No but we have to go. If any of my brothers say anything, offer to walk you anywhere, try to give you something, do not take their offers," Oliver warned.
"Oh come on, they can't be that bad," Paris scoffed.
"I mean it," Oliver said. He shut his eyes as if praying for help, his brothers just loved to embarrass him in any way possible and they had plenty of ammunition.
The pair said good bye and Oliver thanked Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for letting him stay.
"Come on then, no time like the present," Oliver said, picking up his trunk. Paris took his hand, she was fairly nervous but clearly not as much as Oliver.
The pair Apparated and before Paris knew it, her feet had landed on hard earth. She opened her eyes and looked around. They had Apparated right outside Oliver's house, and what a house!
It was a large brick house, with an ample front garden all covered with perfect sparkling snow, and fenced off with a neat little white picket.
"It's fake," Oliver said quickly, motioning to the snow and dragging Paris up the path toward his house. "Not that we need fake snow up here."
"It's very nice," Paris assured, looking at the large glass windows. She could see a large, over-decorated Christmas tree through one of them.
Oliver unlocked the front door with his wand and stepped through. Inside the house was magnificent, everything gleamed and there were so many shiny things to occupy Paris for the rest of the day. She caught herself in the gold gilded mirror that was hanging in the hall and quickly sorted herself out. She really needed a hat when she Apparated as it didn't do wonders for one's hair.
"Mum?" Oliver called reluctantly. Paris heard some movement and suddenly felt really sick. She glanced about nervously, wondering where the hell the bathroom would be. Paris decided there wasn't one likely to be in the hall so she concentrated on taking deep breaths.
"Here they bloody come," Oliver muttered as Paris heard what sounded like a heard of Hippogriffs thundering down the grand staircase near her.
The next bit was a blur of bodies and shouting. Paris guessed it was Oliver's brothers as all four of them looked similar.
"Paris, meet Robert, Daniel and Devon," Oliver said dully. Paris smiled but could feel her shyness over coming her.
"So this is Paris, Oli you didn't tell us she was so, lovely," Daniel, Oliver's second eldest brother said.
"Um, thank you," Paris replied, feeling her cheeks go red. She still felt really sick.
"Where's Mum?" Oliver said shortly.
"Now, now Oli, no need to rush. We want to hear more about you friend," Devon smiled, slipping his arm around Paris' shoulder and leading her off into a huge room Paris took as the living room.
"You're a Seeker, I hear? So was I. Shame little Oli can't win the Cup, really. I should think you'd like to see your name on the trophy, no?" Devon was saying, Paris was nodding and trying to see where Oliver had got off to.
"By the way, Oli. This came for you yesterday," Robert said producing a large, sparkly red love heart that was tinkling a little tune from the little girls who were hounding him at Halloween. Oliver was busy trying to yank it out of his eldest brother's reach and failing.
It turned out Oliver's parents were in the room Paris had just been led into. She felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly as she tried to smile nicely at her prospective in laws.
Oliver had now joined her finally and Paris was slightly aware at being introduced.
"How do you do?" Paris said, mustering all her strength. Oliver's mother smiled when she heard Paris speak.
"Nice to hear an English voice for once," She said lightly. She was a youngish looking woman with an air of past glamour about her; she had longish dark blonde hair and a kindly face.
"So nice to finally meet the girl Olli's been raving about," Oliver's father said, shaking Paris' hand briskly. It shook most of Paris' body; Oliver's father was quite clearly Beater material.
"Dad," Oliver groaned but his father caught him up in a tight embrace, glad to see his youngest son again.
"I've made some lunch, if you two would like to come through," Mrs. Wood said kindly, putting a hand on Paris' back and leading her through to yet another room in the house. "How are you feeling, my dear?" Mrs. Wood asked, concerned when she saw Paris turn a nasty shade of green.
"Could you point me to the bathroom please?" Paris managed to say before clamping a hand over her mouth and saying no more.
"I can't believe I threw up in your parent's house! Whatever must they think of me?" Paris wailed to Oliver. They were shut in the downstairs bathroom and Paris had just got her first bout of morning sickness.
"It doesn't matter. Its part of the baby thing," Oliver reassured, rubbing her arm lovingly.
"I hope your Mum doesn't think it's because I smelt her cooking. I did feel sick before hand but smelling it just about finished me off," Paris explained, hoping Mrs. Wood understood.
"Don't worry. I'll take you upstairs where you can lay down for a bit, yeah?" Oliver offered and Paris accepted.
Oliver's bedroom was typical him. Paris just had to roll her eyes when she saw it, all covered in posters and various certificates. She even spotted a small broomstick laid lovingly on its own shelf, most probably Oliver's first.
"Here, lay down. Do you want a drink of water or something?" Oliver offered but Paris was busy smirking at something. Oliver followed her gaze and swore out of shock. Paris had spotted the framed photograph he kept of her on his desk.
"I Owled Molly in advance to ask her to put away my picture of you," Paris said slyly, lying down.
"Bugger," Was all Oliver could say.
"You could've got a better photo Oliver, I look quite horrible. And how old is that exactly?" Paris said, squinting and trying to see when it was taken. She only looked about sixteen.
"You have to make do when you're trying to take a secret picture of someone," Oliver said matter of factly. "It was the summer of sixth year so you were seventeen and that's the most beautiful I had ever seen you."
Paris looked at herself; she was outside by the looks of it and sitting up. It looked as if she was reading something and Paris watched as her photographic self tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip thoughtfully again and again.
"We have all the time in the world to pose for photographs," Paris sighed and wrapped her arms around Oliver's neck and gave him a long kiss.
"So have you thought about your future?" Mrs. Wood asked. It was later in the afternoon and it was talk time.
"We have a house, we think. It belongs to Paris' family," Oliver explained.
"And where's that?" Mr. Wood asked Paris.
"It's in Ottery St. Catchpole, it's a small village. There's a family there who I'm very close to and they live near-by," Paris replied.
"And what of your family?" Mrs. Wood asked. Paris gulped and she felt Oliver give her hand a squeeze.
"I'm a Muggle-born witch. My parents weren't too happy with the revelation and I haven't spoken to them since," Paris said simply. Mr. and Mrs. Wood were quiet for a little while; Mrs. Wood sipped now and then from a glass filled with brandy while everyone thought everything through.
"You seem a very nice young lady and we only want the best for our son. This will be a difficult time for all of us but I want you both to know you will have both mine and Lorraine's full support," Mr. Wood said after the silence.
"Thanks Dad," Oliver said bashfully.
"Have you thought of any names?" Mrs. Wood asked turning the conversation onto a lighter note.
"Not really," Paris replied. "There's a few I like but the right name will come eventually."
"Who's filling in for Paris on the team then Oli?" Mr. Wood asked. Oliver's mouth dropped slightly.
"Um, I haven't found anyone just yet," He mumbled.
"Well she can't play anymore, not in her condition. I hope you're making her as comfortable as possible Oliver," His father reminded him.
"I know," Oliver muttered, thinking over all the Gryffindor's. There wasn't anyone who came to mind who would be good enough for the Gryffindor team.
Paris and Oliver spent the remainder of the afternoon chatting and laughing the time away. Oliver's parents were very nice people, if a little hostile at first. It was understandable, Paris wouldn't want to let Oliver go and leave her either.
Paris spent the rest of the holidays at The Burrow with Fred, George and Percy. She'd arranged for Oliver and Marino to meet them back at The Burrow so they could travel by Knight Bus back to school together.
"Complete cows. You should've seen the mountain of crap they had. I had to endure every relative I have coming over and saying how lovely they were and how adorable and all they said to me I was looking a bit peaky. Peaky!" Marino was raging to Paris while they were waiting for The Knight Bus.
"I threw up in Oliver's house as soon as I walked in the door," Paris said mildly and this cheered Marino up immensely.
"I can't wait to Apparate, six Galleons altogether this damn Bus has me. I could be spending that in Zonko's!" Fred was complaining when a thought entered his head. "Hey Paris, you remember Stan Shunpike, don't you? He likes you, see if you can get us on for free!"
"No!" Paris replied, embarrassed at the thought. "He does not like me."
"He does! Come on, I don't want to pay another three Galleons for the Bus fare. Go on and I'll treat you to a Chocolate Frog," Fred insisted.
"Last of the big spenders," Marino muttered but quickly smiled sweetly when she caught him looking at her. Just as she grinned, The Knight Bus appeared, shooting everyone's hair and robes backwards.
"Good evening, I am Stan Shunpike your ticket master for this evening," Stan announced, stepping off the violently purple triple Decker bus.
"Hi Stan," Paris said as Fred pushed her forward toward him.
"H-Hi Paris," He replied bashfully, his pimply cheeks turning red. "Are you on your way back to Hogwarts? Did you have a nice Christmas?"
"Yes thank you Stan. How much did you say it was to go to Hogwarts? I've completely forgotten," Paris asked nicely, feeling silly.
"T-Three Galleons but I'm sure I can wave the fare for you," Stan replied dreamily. Paris smiled widely and Stan hurried to pick up her trunk for her.
"Ahem," Fred cleared his throat loudly so Stan would notice the other five people waiting for the Bus too.
"These are my friends," Paris said, leaving the question lingering. "How much for them?"
"No charge," Stan said absently as he was now quite close to Paris.
"Thanks Stan, you really are kind," Paris said and stepped onto the Bus, shooting Fred filthy looks.
She settled herself on a dining room chair in the far corner of the Bus whilst everyone heaved their trunks on. As soon as Percy's left foot left the ground, the Bus took off at an abominable speed sending everyone bar Paris and Stan backwards.
"Merlin!" Marino cried, attempting to get up off the floor, her blonde curls all over her face. The twins seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely while Oliver and Percy were trying to cling onto anything that didn't move.
The group's bus journey soon ended and all were glad for it. Paris thanked Stan and even gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him turn a non human shade of purple.
Marino and Paris were in their room, packing away their things when Artemis burst in, brandishing the Christmas special Daily Prophet.
"What in the name of all things magical is this?" She demanded, waving the paper in Paris' face.
"Hey, steady on!" Marino cried, snatching the paper from Artemis and throwing it on Paris' bed.
"Pregnant? By Oliver Wood? How could you not tell me?" Artemis demanded in her lofty voice.
"I was going to tell you Art, things have been difficult," Paris protested, not wanting to fall out with her dorm mate.
"Not that difficult, if you're shagging about with your Captain! I knew that was the reason you were on the team!" Artemis said rather dramatically.
"Artemis!" Marino exclaimed angrily, stepping between her and Paris. Artemis stepped away from Marino but she still looked angry. At what Paris wasn't so sure about.
"If that's what Paris thinks of her friend then that's fine. I hope you're ready to face a whole school of people full of questions Paris because from whom I've talked to, everyone's pretty interested," Artemis retorted and flounced away to her bed area where she threw open her wardrobe and began putting away all her new Christmas clothes.
"Forget it," Marino reassured but it made Paris feel quite sick. Now the whole school knows. What would they say?