Hello all, I hope that you all enjoy this story. It is my first and so it is also my test story to see if writing is something I should give a try if you like it please review, if you don't like it please review. I want to know what people think. Many thanks.
Disclaimer: None of the characters or set for that matter belong to me.
Warnings: I really don't understand the point of warnings, after all when you read the jacket of a published book they don't warn you that on page 67 you may find a sex scene that only rates a pg-13, but is still something you should watch out for. Anyway this story can be interpretated any way you wish, and I don't care. My interpretation is that it contains SLASH. OMG, so WATCH OUT. Actually even if you don't like slash you could probably read this considering the farthest it goes is hugging and if you can't take that I don't know what you're here for.
RAIN
Rain, it is the embodiment of sorrow and romance all at once. The symbol for so many conflicting emotions, it is the only challenged for the position of most powerful by the storm which is powered half by rain's fury. When rain pours like so many tears from the eyes of the sky only those in tune with their own pain can possibly survive, can possibly understand and they are the ones who are misunderstood themselves. For despite the fury present in the battering of the rain against the windows of our cages it is truly beautiful and always has been. To know this is to know pain...and joy.
The beautiful blue-green hills of Scotland were battered by the pounding rain, small blades of grass bent under its fury, refusing to break. High upon one of the many cliffs dotting the region a majestic castle rose from the ground to reach the sky, symbolic hands raised to the clouds, trying desperately to grasp the rays of sunlight whose desperate beams struggled to swim through gray clouds. The clouds continued crying, their sorrow filled sobs thundering through out the air, punctuated by lightning, whose fiery beams lit up the sky and scorched the ground. As one of these bolts lit up the night, they revealed the face of a young man leaning against the rough wet stones of the castle. His usually shaggy black hair was plastered to his face, his bangs dripping water onto his glasses which concealed beautiful emerald eyes, eyes which could not have held more sorrow if they, like the clouds, had been fogged with tears.
Harry Potter found that only the clouds, whose tears were now falling to the ground, could truly understand his burden and his pain. Beneath the crying clouds Harry found that all of his pain washed away, so much like the masks he donned day and night, both his pain and his masks could not hold against the power of the storm which seemed to have chosen to be his patron. Another flash of lightning light up the sky and in turn lit up its brand on the forehead of the young soldier forced to wear the mark of Thor. A fork of lightning cut through the sky and as the corresponding thunder rang through out the cliffs Harry lifted his head to stare out into the Forbidden Forest and beyond as if desperately searching for solace in the unreachable edge of the world.
"You're getting wet." Harry jerked his head around to face the owner of the soft tenor barely audible against the tolling thunder. White blonde hair caught the nonexistent light and lit up Harry's sad musings like a ray of sunlight.
"I know. I like it this way." With those words Harry turned back to the rain and lifted his head to the cloudy sky.
Light turned to look upon his night, sunshine upon his storm. The irony was too great. "You'll get ill if you stay out here for too long."
"Don't care," said Harry refusing to give in to the urge to take solace in the light being offered to him.
"I thought we had moved beyond this point. Harry, you are not alone and you never will be."
Harry turned to face the sunshine once again and stepped forward whispering, "Is that a promise?"
"Yes it is Harry, it always has been." With those words light met night, sunshine met rain, and they were one.
The rain continued to batter the beaten soil of the Scottish countryside. High up upon a cliff reaching above and across a castle that only some could see a rainbow rose. Although intangible its meaning was understood by those who needed to know it, and the door of the castle closed silently underneath the roar of the laughing sky.