Black Blood

Chapter 13

Help Me, Harry

She knew nobody would be there. Rarely anybody knew about this place, and if they did, they didn't know she would be there.

Paris planned it out perfectly. She knew that Harry would be there because over the last few days she seen him go in at the exact same time everyday. She would hurt herself, run in there crying her heart out, and he would run over to her and hold her tight. It was too perfect. After today, she would know his weaknesses, and after today, she would be free.

She smiled to herself, and then she walked over to her drawer and pulled out a knife. Smirking at it, she places it over her arms, legs, face, lip, and nose. Long slits of blood crawled down the cuts. After she cut herself, she banged logs of wood against parts of her body and made bruises with her fingers to look like someone had hurt her.

Paris looked at the body length mirror and began to rip at her clothes. When she was finished, she looked up and down her body. She looked like someone had raped her than abused her. She looked like shit. But she couldn't help but grin.

~*~

Harry sat on the couch staring into the fire. It was silent, just the way Harry liked it. He was alone, and it was better that way. When you're alone, nothing can hurt you.

Harry was thinking about all the people who had ever hurt him in his life.

Voldemort by murdering his parents. Peter Pettigrew by selling out his parents. The fake Mad-Eye Moody in his fourth year. Bellatrix Lestrange again by killing Sirius.

Thinking about Sirius brought tears to Harry's eyes. He loved Sirius; he was his only parental figure. Both his parents had died, and Sirius was the only one who Harry considered a father figure. Now, he was dead too.

Harry didn't have anyone who he could turn to.

"I should just die," he whispered to himself. He had nothing, no Paris, no parents, no relatives, nothing.

~*~

Just as Paris predicted, she saw Harry walking into the Room of Requirement. She was hidden underneath an Invisibility Cloak that she had gotten from Malfoy. She smiled. This was going perfect.

"Oh, watch out little boy," she whispered. "This is gonna be Hell." She silently laughed and pulled the cloak around her tighter.

~*~

Harry had almost forgotten about Paris. It was like he was in a trance. The fire held his eyes and captivated him.

He had always loved fire. The way it burned for what seemed like forever. You'd look at it one moment, then look back at again and it would still be burned. It lit up the whole room. Just like Paris's smile did...

"No!" Harry said aloud to himself. "No! Don't think about her, Potter! She hurt you three times! You can't trust her. You can't love her. No matter how hard you want to. Get over her."

Harry buried his head in his hands and softly cried. This was too much to handle...

~*~

In a few minutes, Paris would run in there. She would've now, but something was happening. She didn't want to do it anymore. She didn't want to hurt Harry anymore than she'd already hurt him.

But she wanted to be away from Him. She wanted to be free. This was the only way that would ever happen. But what if He was lying to her? You can't exactly trust Him.

"Come on, Paris," she whispered to herself. "He's kept every promise that He's made to you, and Harry has made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want you anymore. What's there to lose?"

Taking a deep breath, she started towards the door, focusing on only getting her freedom back.

~*~

Harry's tears had stopped falling. The fire had caught his eyes once again. But now, the fire was burning out. In a few minutes, it would be completely dark. The fire wouldn't burn. Just like Harry's faith...

~*~

She placed her hand onto the doorknob, and paused. Could she really do this? Could she really hurt Harry?

Then she heard his voice, "What would it matter if I just died?" Paris placed her ear to the door, listening intently. "Nobody would miss me, and I would be in a better place."

Paris took in a sharp breath when she realized she wasn't breathing. Maybe she should do this. Maybe she was doing Harry a favor. Maybe...maybe this wasn't a bad thing.

~*~

Harry shook his head. What was he thinking? Of course he would be missed. Hermione and Ron loved him, and he didn't want to leave his friends and everybody who he loved. He just wanted to be away from himself for a while...

~*~

Paris didn't know what to think. Was what she heard true, or was her mind playing tricks on her to make her think it was okay to hurt Harry? Shaking her head, she gripping the doorknob tighter, and in one swift move, she threw the door open and took the cloak off...

~*~

Harry felt a wind blow in and fire crackled. He looked puzzled, and then he heard the door being slammed. He turned his head around quickly and his jaw dropped. There was Paris. She looked horrible and there was nothing more that he wanted to do then take her in his arms.

~*~

Paris fell to her knees and brought the tears to her eyes. Her chest heaved up and down with every heavy breath and let the reopened wounds bleed.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, never stopping crying.

"Paris, what happened to you?" Harry asked in a whisper, his eyes taking a hold of hers.

~*~

Harry stared at her. She was crumpled up on the floor, and looked as if she might break into a million pieces any second. He walked up and almost hesitated touching her. He didn't want to hurt her anymore than she was already hurt.

~*~

Paris wanted to laugh right in his face. She wanted to do damage.

"Harry, please," she gasped. "Please help me!"

"Help you with what?" he asked, looking all over her face and body.

"Harry, just please," she cried. "Please just help me! You don't know what he can do! Please, help me! He wants to kill me!"