Paris watched her reflection in the mirror of her dresser she had sat at for seven years and would never sit at again.
She had sat here on her very first night at Hogwarts, crying because she desperately wanted to go home and be with her mother who had abandoned her just days before.
Paris adjusted the gold head band of her costume. It was the Leaver's Ball and the seventh years always dressed up in various outfits. Paris had chosen Egyptian and her new short hair made her look a lot like Cleopatra, especially with the gold body paint and black eye liner Marino had smudged on her earlier.
Paris looked around her now empty dorm. Everything had been packed away and it looked sad and bare.
How things had changed for her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined she'd be a mother to Oliver's Wood's child at the end of her school life. A big, big part of her didn't want to leave Hogwarts but she was getting married soon and had a family now.
She remembered her first day at school, hanging onto Percy for dear life in case she got lost and eaten or something. Charlie was very young then, he was a fourth year and already Quidditch Captain. Bill was a seventh year and Head Boy with his Gryffindor girlfriend Asprey Barrett as Head Girl.
Paris smiled sadly at her fond memories and picked up her first Prefect badge she had laid on her table. Percy had shined his so much, some of the enamel had worn away and that was before they'd even started school. Paris picked up her Quidditch badge, announcing to the world she was part of the team. She never wore her badge though but kept it safe.
Paris thought back to the Sorting Ceremony where she had met Marino for the first time, a small little girl with unmissable blonde curls. Paris also saw Oliver there for the first time too, she could still remember giggling about him later that night. Paris also suddenly thought about Marcus Flint, he must've been there too. Yes, she remembered him, a small, scrawny dark haired boy who did nothing but scowl until he was Sorted into Slytherin.
"Here we go," Paris said to her reflection and got up and left her room. Amongst the old badges was the palm sized stone prophecy which was slowly flashing two engraved verses – verses which had not been there before.
"You touch my top and I swear I will kill you," Paris warned Fred.
"With what? You haven't even got your wand! Didn't think your costume out very well did you? No where to put your wand!" Fred sang in an annoying voice.
"Oh I have it. Somewhere," Paris said slyly, giving Marino a wink.
"Stop it! I'm going to be mentally scarred Paris! Do you want that on your conscience?" Fred cried, clutching his head. He hadn't really been the same since Paris went into labour.
"You'd be mentally scarred if I said to you to imagine Snape in a pink tutu," Paris said informatively, taking a sip of her drink.
"Stop it!" Fred cried, leaving and going over to the food to comfort eat.
The party was under way in the Great Hall and all the Seventh years looked great in their costumes. Marino had decided to dress up as a damsel in distress complete with about fifty layers of petticoats which she was regretting in the evening heat. Percy had dressed up as a pirate and Oliver decided on a Knight mainly because they wanted swords to play with.
In fact, quite a few of the male seventh years had dressed up as something what a sword came with. Cedric was Robin Hood and Paris was pretty sure Robin Hood had arrows but Cedric had decided on a sword anyway.
"Hello!" Oliver said brightly, joining Paris, Marino and Percy.
"Is he alright?" Paris asked instantly.
"Yes, he's asleep. Like usual," Oliver replied, taking a sip of Paris' drink. With much convincing, Paris had agreed to leave Alex in the hospital wing whilst she enjoyed the party. Madam Pomfry had promised he would be safe and put a special charm on the door which only she, Paris and Oliver knew how to reverse. Paris had decided she and Oliver would take turns visiting their son just to be sure.
"Anyway, come on Oliver. Fancy a little dance?" Marino asked, elbowing him in the ribs playfully.
"Sure," Oliver replied and allowed Marino to drag him off to dance while Paris and Percy just watched, bemused. Oliver had been in a very good mood since Alex was born three days previous.
"You look nice Paris!" Alyssia called, coming over and joining Paris and Percy.
"Thanks Lis, I never got the chance to congratulate you on that game you played a few weeks ago. You were great," Paris said to her friend after giving her a hug.
"Aw, thanks. I'm thinking of actually joining the team next year," Alyssia informed, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"I'll have to tell Angelina, she's the new Captain for Gryffindor," Paris said with a laugh.
"Oh great, I'll go find her and congratulate her," Alyssia said and with a smile at Percy, left the two to it.
The night went by quickly and everyone seemed to be having fun.
"I think I'll just go check on Alex," Paris shouted to Oliver over the music.
"Do you want me to come?" Oliver shouted back, stopping his maniac dancing for a minute.
"No, I'll be fine. I'll see you in about ten minutes," Paris replied with a shake of her head.
"OK," Oliver replied and gave Paris a quick kiss on the lips before going back to dancing with Alicia.
Paris left the dance floor and made her way out of the Hall. The school was deserted and very quiet and Paris hurried toward the hospital wing.
The flame torches lighting the corridor flickered as she swept past them and Paris couldn't help shuddering even though it was a warm, muggy night.
Paris reached the hospital wing and opened the doors with her wand then closed them quietly behind her. As she walked toward her baby, she couldn't help smiling to herself.
Alex was sleeping peacefully, he was a good baby so far and Paris was glad he hadn't screamed himself stupid yet. She was sure that joy was yet to come.
She reached down and stroked his little chest fondly, feeling the softness of his blue baby grow. He looked so much like Oliver, same big brown eyes and dark hair. Oliver had already examined him and decided he'd be a good Beater as he had strong arms. A day old baby with strong arms?!
"He's a real nice looking baby, which is a surprise," a voice said from the shadows.
Paris clapped a hand to her mouth to keep herself from screaming. With her eyes opened wide in shock and fear, Marcus Flint appeared from the shadows looking grim.
"Hey, you've cut your hair," Marcus pointed out, approaching to where Paris was standing next to Alex, asleep in his crib.
"Now?" Paris uttered, lowering her hand.
"It's time Paris but I must say, I'm surprised you worked it out. Never were the sharpest pin in the sewing box, were you?" Marcus said conversationally.
"You'll never do it. You haven't got the guts," Paris said a little louder.
"Run. Go on, make it a little interesting," Marcus offered. He wasn't his usual sneering self; he had a strange air about him and spoke with a new found maturity.
"I'm not scared of you Marcus," Paris said, backing away slowly from Alex. She wanted Marcus as far away from her baby as possible and if it meant luring him to chase her, she'd do it.
"Why are you backing away?" Marcus asked, following her.
"How did you get in the hospital?" Paris replied, still backing toward the door. She just needed to get out and get out now.
"I have many hidden talents, a flimsy charm on a door isn't exactly a challenge anyway," Marcus replied, getting his wand out from his pocket and twirling it between his fingers.
"Hidden talents? You're stupider than the whole of the Slytherin Quidditch team put together!" Paris shouted and turned and ran as fast as she could out of the hospital wing doors.
"Now isn't this fun?" Marcus called, clearly chasing after her. "Makes it all worth while!"
Paris was panicking now, she hadn't really thought this out very well but all she wanted was Marcus away from Alex. She turned a sharp corner and realized she was at the main entrance.
Without thinking, she pelted down the stone steps and into the night air.
Looking left then right, Paris decided she really didn't fancy running for her life through the Forbidden Forest so ran toward the lake. She screamed as a jet of red light flew past her ear, emitted from Marcus' wand.
"Oh buggering hell," Paris cried, rounding a corner and being faced with the Whomping Willow, a particularly violent tree.
Paris screamed again as she felt Marcus slam into the back of her, sending them both flying forward.
"Get off! Get off me!" Paris cried, attempting to punch Marcus off her and try and see how close they were to the Willow.
Marcus was just laughing cruelly but Paris kicked him sharply between the legs and scrambled up and away from him. She ran around the Willow but didn't give it a wide enough berth and one of the smaller branches caught her on the arm and face, slashing deep gashes into her flesh.
"It's enough play time now," Marcus shouted and thankfully he sounded distant. Paris threw a curse over her shoulder and couldn't tell if it made contact.
She was now hurtling past the Greenhouses and unfortunately, quite far away from the Great Hall. Her mind was muddled with fear and she just couldn't think. She just took the nearest door and found she was quite close to the revolving staircases that led to Gryffindor Tower. Gryffindor Tower! Paris knew she'd be safe there and jumped onto the nearest staircase and began climbing the steps as the banister smashed thanks to another curse from Marcus. He was keeping up well and it was a good job Paris was a fast runner, due to being chased most of her childhood with various insects by Fred or George.
Paris shouted another curse over her shoulder and looked to see where Marcus was as he rugby tackled her over again. He wrapped his hands around her throat as Paris struggled under him, kicking and punching.
Marcus held her down uncomfortably with one hand on the stone steps and pointed his wand at her. Just as he was about to utter a curse, she smacked his wand out of his hand and scrambled away after it. Paris caught it and snapped it in two and pushed it off the stairs where it fell right into the dungeon.
"You silly little cow," Marcus growled as Paris crawled up the stairs before finding her footing and running as fast as she possibly could toward Gryffindor Tower.
What was she going to do when she got there? Run inside and hope Marcus would just go away? She needed Oliver or someone, anyone.
Paris climbed the last set of steps just as they rotated, leading her away from Gryffindor Tower and head first into Marcus.
"Ah, there you are," He said wickedly and grabbed a handful of Paris' hair.
"Ouch!" She cried, cringing away from him as he pried her wand from her hand and pointed it at her.
"Well, as we're here, aren't you going to invite me in?" Marcus asked, still clutching her hair and pushing her back toward Gryffindor Tower. "Say the password!" Marcus demanded and poked Paris hard in the ribs with her wand.
Paris said the password and Marcus pushed her into her own common room. He followed, looking around the cosy little room.
"This is much nicer than ours," Marcus said, nodding. He looked at Paris who was rubbing the back of her head where he had almost wrenched the clump of hair out. "Ah, I see Gryffindor actually got the Cup this year!" Marcus said, noticing the Quidditch Cup on the fireplace surrounded by various photographs, mostly of the team and of Slytherin's horrified expressions.
"It's because we're much nicer and deserve the best," She said quietly.
"What was that? Not an insult I hope? I'd hate to have to curse you but, it could be fun," Marcus said, rounding her so his back was in front of the fire place and Paris was in front of the portrait hole.
"I see you haven't changed then, still all talk no action," Paris said cockily. Marcus roared angrily and emitted a curse at her from Paris' own wand. It was the Crucio Curse and for a few pain worse than death minutes, it engulfed Paris' very being.
She fell to her knees, gasping for air, tears staining her cheeks.
"Perhaps you'll think before you talk next time," Marcus informed, examining Paris' wand.
"They're...illegal," Paris gasped.
"Do you really think I care Paris? I've waited too long for this moment and I won't have a Mudblood cheek me," Marcus explained coolly. "Because that's all you are, aren't you? A dirty little Mudblood who should've been killed as soon as she was born. Better late than never, eh? I hear your parents won't mind."
Paris looked up at Marcus, tears rolling down her cheeks and stinging her gash and she knew this was it.
"Answer me one thing," Paris uttered, unsteadily getting to her feet. "How do you know so much about me and my family?"
"Paris, Paris. Where are your manners? If you ask you do not get," Marcus said softly, raising his wand. "Anyway, wonder where little Oliver is? Not here to save you this time, is he? I told you what would happen Paris, didn't I? The next time we're alone I told you not to expect to get away with a black eye."
"Stay away from my baby," Paris warned, looking Marcus in the eyes and shuddering with fear.
"I can't promise that Paris but I'll leave Oliver, he'll suffer far too much more if I leave him alive anyway," Marcus said with a little shrug and a smile. "Night night, Paris."
Paris closed her eyes and felt something tingle through her fingers, a soft breeze coming from no where. She wiggled her fingers slowly and felt the air between them. She tilted her head skywards slightly and felt something which could've been sun warming her cheeks. Her heart was bursting but her mind was calm.
She heard the words and knew no more. The Avada Kedavra curse emitted from her own wand slammed into her chest and killed her instantly. What Marcus didn't bet on was the ball of green light rebounding off Paris' body and hitting him with such force, it knocked him over.
Both were dead before either of them hit the floor.
"I knew I should've gone with her!" Oliver said to Marino.
"Calm down, I'm sure she's fine, perhaps she went for a walk or something? Or maybe she went back to the Tower?" Marino said, trying to be rash. Paris had been gone for fifteen minutes and Oliver was panicking.
"Maybe she did go back to the Tower," Oliver decided and began climbing the steps toward it. "It's not like her to just go wandering off, what if something happened?" Oliver worried, adjusting his sword to climb the steps easier.
"Nothing's happened! Merlin, relax," Marino exasperated, following Oliver and shaking her head.
Oliver said nothing as he jogged up the remainder of the steps and approached the portrait. He wasn't sure what to do if Paris wasn't in here.
He said the password and it swung open.
"There, she's in there isn't she...ARGHHHH!" Marino began, but upon seeing what was inside, began screaming hysterically.
Oliver didn't hear Marino scream, he just saw Paris. Dead.
He walked slowly over to her and dropped to his knees. Paris had fallen on her back, her eyes closed but her lips parted slightly. One arm was across the floor whilst the other was across her body.
"Have you found her?" Professor Lupin called and almost fell over Marino who was sobbing at the doorway to the common room. "What on...?" Lupin began but saw. He left quickly calling for Dumbledore.
Oliver was still unaware of anything as he stroked a few hairs from Paris' face and noticed she had lost her head band from her costume. Her make up had been smudged by tears as they still were wet on her face. He took her hand in his and kissed it softly, tasting the blood from her cut knuckles. He laid it back on her body carefully and closed his eyes.
"Oliver?" He heard his Headmaster say distantly but he made no effort to listen. He was unsure how much time had passed as he felt someone hoist him up and sit him on one of the common room chairs.
All around him were people, asking questions in strained voices and milling around. Oliver knew what had happened; he'd seen Marcus and a wand. He didn't know how but he knew it was Marcus.
Oliver hadn't moved all night.
Marino hadn't ceased crying all night and was huddled up on a sofa with Percy and had cried all down his shirt whilst Percy looked like he was going to throw up at any minute.
Fred had his head in his hands whilst George leant right back into his chair, and kept wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"But Albus!" Professor McGonagall said in desperate, hushed tones the other side of the common room. "How did this happen? And why?"
"I cannot say Minerva but it seems he used her own wand to try and kill her with. He succeeded but it rebounded, something he wasn't expecting I wouldn't doubt," Dumbledore said quietly.
"But why?" McGonagall pressed, her face white. "Why murder an innocent girl?"
"Only he knows for sure," Dumbledore replied, the Headmaster looking older than ever.