Black Blood

Chapter 10
Secrets Held Within

"So," Paris asked as she and Harry sat on the couch in the Room of Requirement. She put out the eight of diamonds card and Harry put down a King of hearts. Harry grabbed both of the cards and they both continued playing War. "What's going on with you?"
"Same as last night, Paris," Harry said. He looked up at her with the smile he wore every night when he was with Paris. He looked back down at the couch and said, "Hermione's always with Nick. Ron's always grumpy. And Ginny's always somewhere. Everybody's got someone except me."
Paris looked up at Harry. "Well, that's how it is when your sixteen and seventeen years old. Your hormones are raging."
"Yeah," Harry said laughing a little. He looked up at Paris and they both smiled. "I guess. But it gets kind of lonely, you know? I mean, you see Hermione and Nick all touchy feely with each other and it makes you want to have someone like that too."
"Uh huh," Paris whispered. "I know what you mean." She did, in fact. Hermione and Nick were always together, whether it was during the day or doing their prefect and Headboy duties. Sometimes she wished she had someone to cuddle with or kiss or just touch. And with one specific person... Every time Paris and Nick were actually talking, Hermione would come up and interrupt them, either reminding him about something or something completely useless. It was like he was put under her spell.
"You know," Harry whispered. "People are starting to think we're going out."
This made Paris snap out of her silly Nick and Hermione thoughts. "What?" she asked. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe this was exactly what her and Harry's relationship needed. Maybe...
"Yeah," Harry said. "I overheard two Hufflepuff's talking and one of them said that we spend so much time together that we might as well be going out. Silly huh?"
"Yeah," Paris said, her heart breaking by the second. How foolish she had been that Harry thought they should go out. They were only friends, no matter how bad she wished for it to be something more. Something much more.
"Oh my God," she whispered, pretending herself to be shocked. She looked at the clock just above the fireplace that had been enchanted to work as a magical item. "I hadn't realized it had gotten so late. We better be going. Um...see you tomorrow?"
Harry looked confused, as if he knew she was only trying to get away from him. "Oh," he said, stacking the cards into a pile and putting them into the breast pocket of his Gryffindor robe. "Yeah. Of course." Paris took out her Slytherin Perfect badge and pinned it to her robe. "See you tomorrow."
"Bye," Paris said, fighting to hold her tears back for a few more seconds. All she wanted was to get away from Harry and cry. Cry as long as she wanted with no interruptions. But that would be in a while.
"Hey, Paris," Harry said right when Paris had her hand on the doorknob. She looked back at him to see he was looking down at the pillow on the couch, cards still in hand.
"Yeah?" Paris asked, confused, but hoping he would say what she wanted to say to him.
Harry looked up at Paris and asked, "Are you okay?"
Frowning and fighting back her tears, she said, "Yeah. I'm fine Harry. I'm just tired. Why?"
"Oh," Harry said, smiling a little. It hadn't been what he wanted to say, but what could he say to Paris? She was way out of his league. Paris Jameson could never have feelings -- those sorts of feelings -- for him, Harry Potter. But he couldn't change the way he thought Paris felt about him, so he would just leave that subject alone. "Okay. You just looked...well...I don't know...sad."
"Oh," Paris said, smiling a little. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."
"One more thing," Harry said.
"Yeah?" Paris asked, again hoping he would say what she hoped he'd say. But once again, she was wrong.
"Why were you and Malfoy kissing?" Harry asked, a frown on his lips.
"Oh my God," Paris whispered. Maybe that was the reason Harry wouldn't say it. "You saw that?"
"Yeah." Harry said.
"It was nothing, Harry," Paris said, trying to smile. "I swear. It was nothing. I swear to God, I would go to hell and come back before I ever had feeling for him ag-."
"What?" Harry asked.
"We better be going," Paris said after a few minutes of silence. "It's almost midnight. See you tomorrow, Harry." Before Harry could respond, she ran out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

~*~

Harry lay his head down on his pillow. He was tired, but could not fall asleep. His nightly visit with Paris had just started the first night, about four days ago. It hadn't been intentionally, Harry had just been headed on his way to the bathroom when he found Paris walking out of the girls' bathroom. They had talked for the whole night, losing track of time and falling asleep on the couch together. Nothing had happened, but the feeling of Paris's body next to his was the best feeling he had ever had. And nothing could ever take that away from him.
But what was it about Paris that made Harry can't stop thinking about her? He had only known her for less those forty-two hours. But somehow, it felt like he had known each other for a much longer time.
"Paris," Harry whispered before drifting off to sleep...

(Flashback to First Day Of Term)

Harry woke with a smile. But it quickly went away. He remembered seeing Malfoy and Paris kissing. How much it had hurt him. He didn't know why it had hurt him so much. It wasn't like he liked her. Or did he?
"Harry," came Ron's voice from the bed next to his. "Harry? Are you up?"
"Yeah," Harry answered, trying his best to sound civil. "I'm up." Although he wished he could sleep forever, dreaming only about Paris. "What time is it, Ron?" Harry looked over to the enchanted clock next to his bed, but everything was hazy. He reached around for his glasses and instead found folded piece of paper.
Curious, Harry brought the note to him and then found his glasses a few inches away from where the note had been.
Ron walked over to the window and opened it. Instantly, sunlight covered Harry's body, almost blinding him. The sun in Hogwarts was brighter than any sun Harry could've ever imagined.
"Whoa," Ron said, staring out the window on his knees and hands. His blue plaid pajama pants hung loosely off his skinny -- but long -- legs. His white shirt hung from his chest making him look as big as Dudley.
"What?" Harry asked, putting the note back on his headboard. He stood up and walked over to the window...and..."Oh my God." He whispered.
Outside was the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen. Even though the sun was shining brightly, clear, glistening raindrops were falling from the sky. The grass had shimmers of the sparkling rain. Little dots plopped into the lake. Everything just seemed to real to be true, like a drawing in an art museum.
"Well..." Ron said. "How are things with you and Miss Paris?" Ron asked standing and walking over to closet. He pulled out a dark blue robe -- second hand, mind you -- with matching blue jeans and a white shirt. All second hand.
Harry walked over to his bed. and lay back down, exhausted. He wanted to see Paris again, but just seeing -- or even thinking -- about her made him replay the sight of her and Malfoy kissed the first night.
"Oh," he said, looking at the wall. "Fine. I mean, if you count seeing her kissing some other guy, who happens to be your worst enemy, as fine, then it couldn't be better."
"Who was she kissing," Ron asked, clearly he hadn't heard the 'who happens to be your worst enemy' part.
"Malfoy," Harry grumbled. He hated saying that name. Anytime he heard the name Paris or anything do with either Malfoy or Paris, sights of that one moment replayed millions of times in his head.
"Ouch," Ron said walking over to his bed and taking off his shirt. "How do you know she was kissing him? Did Malfoy tell you? Because if he did, you shouldn't believe him. You know he was probably just trying to get into your head. He's always trying to take things away from you. Seriously, Harry. Since when do you trust Malfoy?"
"He didn't tell me," Harry said tiredly. He blinked, and regretted it. Once he'd closed his eyes for that mere millisecond, he saw Paris and Malfoy kissing. Her arms wrapped around his neck and Malfoy's tongue practically down Paris's throat to her stomach.
"Did she tell you?" Ron looked over at Harry after getting his white shirt on. He reached into the dresser not too far away from him and pulled out a pair of tidy-whidies when he had meant to grab a pair of boxer briefs. He blushed and threw them into the garbage by the door. He looked into the drawer and pulled out boxer briefs, as predicted. He went over to a separate part of the room and went behind it.
"No," Harry said, closing his eyes and wishing he'd never say anything about it before. "She didn't tell me."
"So then how did you find out," Ron asked. Harry heard the sound of zippering and Ron walked out, fully clothed. He walked back over to his bed and put on his Hogwarts robe, then his Prefect badge.
Harry took a deep breath and said, "I saw them."
"Oh, man," Ron said, buttoning the three buttons on his robe. "God that's gotta hurt. If I had seen Hermione kissing Ni-."
"Did you just say my name," Hermione asked, coming through the curtains. She looked from Harry to Ron, to Harry to Ron.
"God Hermione!" Ron yelled, suddenly turning the color of magenta. "Don't you know how to tell us you're coming?! I could've been naked! Or Harry could've been naked!"
"Next time I'll be sure to announce my arrival, Ron," Hermione said, glaring in Ron's way, but blushing at the mental sight of him and/or Harry naked.
"Great," Ron said. "So...uh...hmm...why are you up here anyway? It's like seven." Ron looked down at Harry who wasn't moving. He was lying his stomach, his face turned toward the wall.
"Oh," Hermione said. "I was supposed to meet Nick up here. Is he rea-."
"Hermione?" came Nick's voice. Ron scowled. "Is that you?"
"Yeah," Hermione said, walking out of the four-poster that Harry and Ron occupied.
"Sorry," Nick said. "I'm almost ready. I'll be in the common room in about five minutes."
"Okay," Hermione said. She walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, which Ron saw and stormed out of the dormitory. Hermione smiled at Nick before turning and walking the same direction Ron had. "Remember," she said turning around, "you're supposed to meet McGonagall in her office at two."
"Okay," Nick said. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," Hermione said, smiling. "See you soon." She turned and walked out of the Boys Dormitories.
Nick made sure Hermione wasn't going to come back when he walked into the four-poster Harry was in. "So," he said, making Harry fall off his bed in shock.
When Harry was standing and was calm, he said, "What do you want?"
"Nothing," Nick said. "I just wanted to make sure you and Paris were you know, not speaking."
"Even though it isn't your business," Harry sneered, "Paris and I are speaking. And if you haven't noticed, she's a big girl now. She has a right to do whatever she wants. And she doesn't need her cousin to protect her. It's not like you're her father."
"Well, well, well," Nick said. "At least I know the truth."
"And what truth is that? That you're nothing but an overprotective cousin?"
"No. That Paris doesn't have a father. Or a mother. She's lived with my mother and me for the past two years. That's why I'm so protective about Paris. I don't trust anybody around her. Especially guys. Her father said he would never leave her. But then she turned fourteen and he left her while she slept. Only saying sorry. Do you still question my protectiveness for Paris?"
"No, I don't. But what you need to understand is that I would never in a million years leave Paris the way her parents did. Never."

~*~

Harry walked down the halls in his blue and white pajama pants and a white baggy shirt. It was midnight, and he was exhausted. But he couldn't fall asleep. Maybe it was his rumbling stomach. Or his urge to go to the bathroom.
Finally, he found the bathroom. But he stopped, seeing a girl walking down the same hall. He squinted and saw that it was Paris.
"Paris?" He asked. Paris automatically looked up. When she saw Harry, she walked over to him, her hands on her face.
"Oh," she said. "Hey Harry."
"Are you alright?" Harry asked, noticing her eyes were red and puffy.
"Yeah," she said in a scratchy voice. "I'm fine. I'm just really tired."
"You want to talk?" Somehow Harry couldn't believe that she was okay. He had grown up with enough drama to know when someone was really okay or not. And Paris was defiantly not okay.
"Sure," Paris said, thankful somebody actually cared if she was alright. "Where?"
"I know this place," Harry said. "But you have to swear you'll never tell anybody about it. Even I'm not supposed to know about it."
"Okay."

~*~

Harry and Paris sat on the couch, a fire licking at the bricks ahead of them. Harry had brought them to the Room of Requirement. It was the only place Harry knew they wouldn't interrupted.
"So why were you crying," Harry asked. "I mean, you said you were okay. But you were crying. So what's up?"
"Nothing," Paris said. She wasn't crying anymore, and her face had gone back to its normal color, her eyes no longer red and puffy. Before she could help it, she broke down. "Every time I see Malfoy, I remember my parents. I know it's stupid, but I miss them. I haven't seen my mother in two years and my father in six years. I know you haven't seen your fifteen years. But your parents didn't leave on choice. Mine did."
"Paris," Harry said grabbing her hand, "you can't change fate. I know that if I could, I would change my whole life. But losing my parents was the greatest and worst thing that ever happened to me. I know that's horrible to say but it's true. Losing them made me who I am, got me my friends. And it got me here. Sure, losing them also made my life a nightmare, living with the fear that I could be dead any day now. But right now, I couldn't be any happier than I already am."
After having gotten that out of their systems, they talked for the entire night. Harry wouldn't have known how much he liked her if something the next morning had never happened.
Harry woke up the next morning still in the Room of Requirement at six in the morning. The fire had died down during the night and the room was pitch black except for a light glowing in the clock.
He felt something in his hand and he saw Paris's hand in his own hand. That's when he felt Paris's body next to his. He looked down at her and ran his fingers through her silky hair. Her hair had the pleasant odor of strawberry/vanilla conditioner. Harry could feel her back rising and falling each time she breathed. It had to be one of the best feelings Harry had ever felt.
With her hair between his fingers, Harry felt Paris stir against him, and her eyes flittered open like a butterfly opening its wings for the first time.
Then Paris turned and looked at Harry like she was seeing him for the fist time. She smiled and her eyes smiled at him too. Her eyes were bright and loving. Harry just noticed the beauty in her eyes at that moment.
Everything about her captivated him. Her wavy that was black with a little red mixed in. Her brown almond shaped eyes that were hazel and golden at the same time. Her beautiful skin that was a golden tanned color, but at the same time light and pale. Everything. From her head to her toes.
And at that exact moment when Harry was looking into her strikingly beautiful eyes, trying to remember each and every detail about her that Harry James Potter had finally fallen in love with Paris Chanell Jameson.

(Present Time)

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, food piled on his plate on account of Ron saying how great it was. He held the note out in front of him, after a week, he still hadn't opened it. It was silly, but he was afraid to open it. How could a note cause this much trouble? His stomach rumbled dangerously and he was starving, but his mind focused on the unopened note.
Suddenly, the note was ripped from his fingers. He looked across from him where Nick held the note in his hand. Harry tried to grab it but Hermione put a hand on his chest and said, "Come on, Harry. You've been staring at that stupid note all week. If you don't open it, someone has to." Whereas, if Malfoy had grabbed it, she would've demanded that he mind Harry's personal items. But since it was Nick, her boyfriend, she didn't mind if he read it.
"Damn," Ron said, his face full of food. "Amazing what a boyfriend will do to you, Hermione."
"Ron, what is your problem?"
"I don't have a problem. I think it's you who has a problem, Hermione." He stopped eating his food and glared at Hermione. Harry was silent. He had forgotten all about the note that Nick had stolen from him.
"What do you mean I have a problem? Ever since Nick and I have been going out, you've been all, pissy around us! Is it my fault that guys like me, and girls don't like you?"
Ron stood up, his fists balled. His orange juice spilled all over his clothes, but he didn't care. "Oh, my God, Hermione! How can you say that since you met him you've been ditching Harry and me? You've known him for what? One day!? When you've known Harry and I for five years! Do you know how much it hurts to see you and Nick all touchy feely?! Have you ever felt like dying when you see the person you love look at some other guy?! Have you ever, ever in your whole life, felt like you were never good enough for someone?! I don't think so!"
Hermione was silent, along with the whole Great Hall. The Hufflepuff's, Ravenclaw's, and Slytherin's turned to them. Some snickering came from the Slytherin table. Harry turned around and saw Paris sitting next to Malfoy, who was laughing. Paris wasn't looking at Harry, instead she was looking down at her plate, knowing she couldn't laugh at them.
Harry turned back to look at Hermione. Her chin trembled, but she shook her head and stood up. "Well, if you would've seen the way I looked at you for the last five years, maybe you would've known something about me! Since you've never even given me the time of day to ever get to know me! Nick, only knowing me for a day, actually wanted to know me! You only hung around me because Harry and I are friends! You never gave me a chance with all you excuses to try to tear Harry and mine's friendship apart by fighting with me! Well what a great friend you are, Ron!"
Harry took this chance to look over at Nick who was looking up at Hermione. He fingers still held the note but lightly. Harry leaned over slowly and quickly grabbed the note from his hand. Nick looked over and glared at him.
"Fine then! If that's the way you feel, then lets not be 'friends' anymore."
"Fine! I have nothing to lose anyway!" Hermione yelled, tears falling down her cheeks.
"And why is that?" Ron asked in a sneer.
"Because you can't lose something you never had," Hermione said, the tears coming down even more. Ron froze, wishing he could run over and wipe the tears from her eyes. But since she had a boyfriend, and she probably hated him now, he couldn't do that. To Ron's dismay, Nick saw her tears and took action.
"Hey, Hermione," Nick said, standing and trying to wipe her tears away. "Let's ju-."
"YOU SHUT UP!" Ron shrieked. "YOU SHUT UP AND GET AWAY! IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
"IT IS NOT HIS FAULT THAT YOU'RE JEALOUS, RON!"
"WHAT DO YOU CARE!? WE'RE NOT FRIENDS!"
"WE NEVER WERE FRIENDS! WE WERE NEVER FRIENDS IN THE BEGINNING, ESPECIALLY THE BEGINNING OR THE END! YOU CAN JUST GO SUCK UP TO HARRY AND CONTINUE TO TREAT HIM LIKE HE'S THE GREATEST THING IN THE WORLD! SINCE ALL YOU WANT FROM HIM IS GIRLS!"
Ron took his bag and said, "Fine, then. You can just go to hell, Hermione." With those final words, Ron walked out of the Great Hall. As soon as the door was slammed behind him, Hermione burst into more tears and ran out of the Great Hall, past Ron, and into the Girls' bathroom.

~*~

Harry had finally gotten the nerve to open the letter. He had been sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room after he had finally gotten away from Ron and Hermione, who were still on non-speaking terms. Nick had spent every moment he could with Hermione that day. And no matter how much he wanted to separate them for one minute, he kept his cool, and stayed with Ron the whole day, ignoring his grumpy attitude. It wasn't his fault he and Hermione weren't speaking. It was Hermione's. She had blown things way out of proportion. Ron had been the right one for once. Maybe Hermione would realize this before things with her and Nick got too much for Ron to handle.
Harry sighed, looked down at the note in his hand, and snapped off the tape that held the edge of the papers together.
The writing was in a sloppy, but neat, slanted print writing. It was a short letter. But a letter Harry was drading to end anyway:

Dear Harry,

I know things are a little weird between us. Especially since I haven't talked to you, and you haven't talked to me, in a week. But I need to talk to you. It's killing me that I haven't heard your voice in five days. Please meet me where we've always met. You'll know where. I know you don't want to come because you're fearing you'll only see something you never want to see. But I need you to come. Please Harry. I'll be waiting at our usual time every night until you come. You don't have to come tonight. But please do. If you feel the same way I do, then you'll come tonight with a smile, a real smile.

All my love,
You Know Who

The last words shocked Harry. You-Know-Who was also a sort of code name for Voldemort. But he ignored it and looked at the clock. He knew it was Paris. Who else could it be? The letter was key by itself. It was almost the time that he would have gone off to see Paris in the Room of Requirement. He decided that he would leave early, eager to see Paris.
Harry grabbed his Invisability Cloak and headed for the Portait door.

~*~

Harry quickly rushed to find the Room of Requirement. The halls were empty and quiet. Then after a few minutes he came to a halt in front of a door. He took off his cloak and put his hand on the doorknob. A real smile on his lips.
"Par-." Harry started when he opened the door. But the most horrifying scene came to his eyes as soon as he had opened the door.
Paris and Malfoy were sitting on the couch, the couch Harry had created for he and Paris. For only him and Paris. But there they were. Sitting on his couch, their lips pressed against each other. Paris's shirt was on the floor and she was only in her lacy black see through bra and denim blue mini skirt.
Harry's heart was breaking by the milisecond. How could she do this to him?
No. She had every right to be kissing him. It not like Paris was his property or something. They weren't going out, but Harry felt betrayed. He was more betrayed then he ever could've imagined.
"Paris?" Harry asked, feeling stupid. How could paris ever like him? He still needed to know if it was Paris. Of course it was she, but he couldn't know for sure.
Paris and Malfoy broke apart as soon as 'Paris' had escaped Harry shaking lips. Horror crossed Paris's face, but Malfoy's only broke into a sneer.
"Oh my God!" Paris whispered, she moved away from Malfoy and grabbed her shirt. "Harry, I'm so sorry!"
But it was too late. Harry had slammed the door and was headed to the Gryffindor Tower, feeling as though he had lost everything.