Forbidden Arts
Notes: Another Harry Potter fiction. I've been so busy; I barely have time to really write this. However, this will contain a slash pairing, since I've moved away from how I normally write. (Hey! I wanted to do one! Leave me alone!) So please, spare me the flames if M/M relationships bug you. It's not my problem. Contains our most popular duo, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and materials are copyrighted rightfully to J.K. Rowling. All fanfictional characters do belong to me.
Chapter One: When the Rain Comes
The muggy spring day did not change over the course of the day. The mud had grown deeper, by the time he was well out of the castle doors. The usual lush grassy fields had long been soaked. Causing the water level to rise, as well as mix with the soil, causing a rather dreadful landscape. The rain was unmerciful, and continued to pound downward on anything that graced the earth. He was one of those things. Harry Potter shivered, wrapping the already drenched scarlet scarf around his neck for extra comfort. Despite his rapid pace to get across the trail to the back of the castle, it seemed as if he was running in mixed circles. By the time he rounded the corner, wind and misty rain swept across his face causing a bitter chill to cut through the fabric of his clothing.
The plant life, surrounding the outer regions of the castle, seemed to be basking in the rainwater, that Harry desired to slow up, or vanish. It had not rained in two months, this was the major rainfall of the springtime, and what a time it had come. On a day when students of Hogwarts had their lessons, and worst. Herbology.
He stumbled against the rubber of his heal, before placing a hand in against his forehead, which were layered with strands of black hair. The greenhouses were lined in a straight row, three were lit up, and the other five were still. Harry calmly began to race from where the trail tattered off, to where another field began, and in the short distance was his destination. Greenhouse number one, Herbology I. Harry echoed a sigh, as he gathered himself within the doorway of the greenhouse for his lesson.
The attention of the class seemed to stop with the sudden appearance of the Gryffindor fifth year, whom was standing within the doorway, shivering endlessly. Harry looked up, and observed that some of the students were dripping with water as well. However, none seemed to be as bad. Lucky him, his Quidditch captain had to pull him aside, while Ron and Hermione made their way off to class, and just for the rains to fall harder.
"Sorry I'm late." His voice was delicate, and quiet.
Professor Sprout whirled around, from helping another Gryffindor boy, Neville with a specialized herb. The plump middle-aged woman clasped her hands together, before racing over to Harry. She ruffled both of his bony shoulder blades before looking down at him. Harry looked up into a pair of calm brown eyes.
"It's alright dear, you're soaked to the bone! Go take a seat.."
She paused, and surveyed the classroom. The baffled Ron Weasley, glancing to his friend in surprise, was already paired up with Harry's other best companion, Hermione Granger. Neville was partnered up with the first Slytherin girl, Pansy Parkinson, whose eyes were narrowed, and a usual sneer crossed her features, observing the mess that Neville had made out of the herbs.
A Slytherin for every Gryffindor there was, some bickering with each other, others working in tension, but contently. One Slytherin boy remained isolated from the group and the noise. He seemed bored, sitting there alone. One hand was propped against the side of his head, and the other hand seemed to absent-mindedly run its course along the small wooden desktop. Harry's expression dropped. He knew exactly who it was.
"Mister Malfoy!" Professor Sprout yelled.
He looked up then, gray eyes wandered curiously over at Harry, which he fixated into a cold stare, before looking at his Professor oddly. He moved, and dropped both hands to be resting on the desktop.
"Yes, Professor?" He yawned in mid speech.
"Mister Potter will be working with you." She shook the boy, and Harry leaned forward, and began to walk towards the back of the greenhouse, where he was sitting. He didn't reply to Professor Sprout, however his venomous glare followed Harry's every footstep until he reached his side, and made sure to keep his distance. Harry tried to surpass a sigh, but it came out loudly. This got the boy's attention.
"Potter, get caught in the rain?" He hissed.
Harry didn't reply. He calmly removed his eyeglasses, before green eyes blinked to adjust to the align of light arranged in the room. That's when his partner slowly turned to look at him. Usually Harry would've snapped some comment back at him, but he wasn't in the mood. The rain had given him an awful chill, and he had to stand there in soaken robes.
"You look like a drowned rat." He yawned again.
Furiously, Harry turned his head sharply, to greet him with a blank stare. He mildly scowled before scooting downward, and seating himself amid a long bench that stretched the full length of the table.
"I got caught in the rain, so what." He spoke quietly.
"You were also late."
"What are you? My stalker?" Harry grumbled.
He shook his head. "Gryffindors. Never serious about anything."
Harry noticed Professor Sprout had carried on well into the lesson, therefore he abandoned his partner's remark, and picked his eyeglasses back up from their resting-place and slid them up the bridge of his nose. The rim was still icy from the frigid rainfall. Harry sighed, and watched as a new herb was being explained.
He was aware of his body built, lithe, skinny and small. Therefore, the shivering remained intensely. It took longer for him, then most people to ease up to the temperature and warm. What was worst, was--he couldn't unbuckle the robes, and remove them--to sit in his Hogwarts uniform. That would count as an out of uniform detention point, this caused an internal frown. Harry was busy struggling to pay attention, and adjust to the damp state of his clothing; he didn't notice a pair of watchful eyes locked on him, obviously in annoyance.
'Pathetic...'
All the while the rain still came.