Sunburn

"Monday, Double Herbology," said Hermione, reading out her new timetable. Her face then went into a discontented scowl, "With the Slytherins," she finished.

Ron let out a groan, "Fan-bloody-tastic," he muttered into his tissue.

There was silence for a moment before he let out a huge sneeze.

Harry and Hermione both shot him sympathetic looks.

"Still sneezing?" asked Harry, a twinge of humour in his voice.

"All the bloody pollen in the air," muttered Ron, angrily "And Fred and George didn't make it any easier, they enlarged Dad's flower bed and chased me round with giant daisies all summer, stupid gits,"

Harry snorted with laughter into his timetable.

"Its strange isn't it, being this hot in September?" noted Hermione.

"Not really," Harry replied, "Not after the boiling hot summer, hottest summer we've had for years,"

But Hermione was no longer listening; she had already begun to get her bag ready for the morning's lessons, and soon, the three of them were sloping down Hogwarts corridors to begin a new term.

IIIIIIIII

Professor Sprout opened the doors to Greenhouse six, and the two sets of pupils followed her in.

She slung a green apron over her dark blue robes and pulled up her sleeves haughtily.

"Today we will be shredding Bulkanuts to retract their inner powders, does anyone know the properties of Bulkanut powder?" asked Professor Sprout, pulling her gardeners gloves over her plump, stubby fingers.

Hermione's arm went straight into the air, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco Malfoy doing an impression of her to Crabbe and Goyle's amusement.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout sighed, staring with discontent at the rest of the class, slumped over on the dirty greenhouse tables, none bothering to answer her question.

"The powder of the Bulkanut, mixed with mint essence creates a light mixture that can cure different muggle viruses such as the flu or common cold," said Hermione, a beam of satisfaction on her face.

"Trust a mudblood to know about muggle infections," sneered Draco out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, that's quite right," said Professor Sprout, unaware of Draco's comment. "Sadly, most wizards don't hold immunities to different muggle infections such as colds, therefore, the Bulkanut has many-"

"ACHOOO!" Ron sneezed into his tissue.

"I feel like I'm blowing my brains out," he mumbled.

"Brains?" sneered Draco, "Surely, Weasley, you-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry, a little louder than intended,

"That isn't a very friendly way to start the term, Potter," Draco said, with a satisfied smile.

"Potter! Malfoy!" snapped Professor Sprout, "No more bickering from you!"

Harry and Draco both fell silent, throwing glares at every possible opportunity for the remainder of the lesson.

The class spent the lesson shredding the Bulkanut and crushing the nut into powder, Draco, as Harry was delighted to see, had picked up a rotten Bulkanut, and instead of a nut, contained thick, sticky pus spilling from the middle.

"That's a bad nut, Malfoy, Dispose of it and start again," said Professor Sprout, toddling around the classroom, observing work.

Draco's pale skin showed an angry tint of pick, he scowled and thrust his nut to one side.

Ron laughed, "Get a move on, Malfoy or you'll be left behind, you heard the professor, what you've got there is a bad nut,"

Draco's features narrowed, he was beginning to get frustrated, "Want to talk about bad nuts, Weasley? Or should we make it 'bad eggs', you know, like the runt of the litter? That's you isn't it? The Weasley's mongrel? That is of course, if we're not counting your filthy little sister-"

"You can't talk about being the runt of the litter, you're an only child aren't you Malfoy? Whats the matter? Did your ugly face put your parents off having another child?" Ron retorted.

SPLAT.

Draco hurled a fistful of Bulkanut pus at Ron's face. The thick green mixture spilled down his face and dripped slowly from the tip of his long nose.

"Weasley, go and get cleaned up," shouted Professor Sprout, as Ron exited the greenhouse.

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle collapsed into fits of laughter.

"Did you see that?" said Draco through his sniggers, "If we're lucky, maybe it'll burn a hole in his face, it'll make an improvement,"

"It'll still be a damn sight more pleasant to look at than your twisted ferret face, Malfoy," said Harry.

"Maybe you're just worried Weasley will come through with a scar and people will be on their knees worshipping him for a change, whatever will it feel like? Knowing people prefer even the likes of Weasley to you, Potter?" asked Draco, eyes narrowing.

Harry snapped, and made a grab for the Bulkanut pus, it seemed Draco had the same idea, and they both hurled themselves at the table, then, instead of grabbing the pus, Draco grabbed Harry by the waist and they both fell from the table, hitting at each other fiercely.

"STOP!" screamed professor Sprout, "Stop that at once!"

Draco and Harry stopped at once, though still holding each other by the scruff of the collar.

Draco looked down at Harry, their faces practically touching, Harry looked back, and felt his heart skip a beat. Draco's skin then began to flush pink again, and he began to stand up.

Professor Sprout grabbed them both towards her.

"All of you!" she said to the rest of the class, "Go! You're dismissed."

Hermione shot Harry a look of disdain that clearly said 'Well, you only deserve to be punished, as it's the first day of-'

"The first day of term!" snapped Professor Sprout, "And you two are already fighting like two barbarians!"

Harry and Draco remained silent.

"As punishment, I want you both to go and clear out garden twelve." She said, "Now, go."

She handed Harry the key, "Garden twelve is concealed, as most of the plants in there tend to move, however, sunlight pours in from the ceiling, so I expect the conditions should be fitting to do some… manual labour."

"But its boiling hot outside," Draco drawled, "How do you expect-"

"You really should have thought of that before you began brawling in my classroom, Malfoy, now, go, start cleaning. Without magic," she added.

IIIIIIIIII

The sun shone brightly down on Garden twelve. The garden was big and spacious, with a very tall wall surrounding the outside. The plants kept inside were, as Professor Sprout had said, clearly, very much alive, and very much infuriated by Harry and Draco's presence. They made their feelings known by snapping and spitting if either of the two came close.

Draco and Harry worked away in silence, near the middle of the garden, still fuming with each other.

"This is all your fault," said Draco, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his platinum blonde hair glistening from the rays of sunlight.

Harry said nothing, his hair was longer and messier than Draco's and very in his face. He had pulled off his robes and rolled up his sleeves, but was still hot.

"And what was with the diving towards me?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows.

"It wasn't towards you, I was aiming for the pus," Harry grunted.

"Oh, I see," said Draco, a laugh in his voice.

"Anyway," snarled Harry, "You were the one who wrestled me to the floor like a lovesick puppy,"

Draco went very pink; Harry could not tell if it was anger, embarrassment, or the sun was getting to his pale skin.

"Yeah?" said Draco, his voice not as confident as before, "Well, I could feel your heart beating faster and faster, you were obviously getting a little too eager,"

"Then you began to blush," said Harry, unable to resist the temptation, "That's so cute, Malfoy, who knew you were smitten? And all this time, you were smitten with little old Harry Potter, my my, Draco, honey, that's sweet but-"

BANG!

Harry felt something graze his arm; it cut deep, like a white-hot whip, and began to bleed.

Harry looked up at Draco, who stood, wand pointed at Harry, his face practically alive with rage.

"What did you do that for?" Harry snapped, trying to stop the blood flowing.

Draco raised his arm for a second time, but Harry was too quick for him,

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, and Draco's want ricocheted from his hand and onto the garden floor, Harry rushed and picked it up. Draco stood, looking positively livid.

Harry was also angry, "What did you do that for?" he shouted.

Draco didn't answer, he stood glaring at Harry.

Harry felt the anger rise up, and without thinking he rushed to the garden door, a bulky door, made from stone.

"Fine," he said, feeling the poison licking off his tongue as he spoke.

He placed Draco's wand in his pocket and exited the garden, "Fine," he repeated, and before Draco could dash over in realisation, he slammed the door shut and locked Draco inside.

IIIIIIIIIII

Harry stormed back up to the common room in anger, clasping his bleeding arm in one hand and his wand in the other, as he got the common room door, he placed it in his pocket with Draco's.

He stormed in the common room to a bewildered Ron and Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, "Your arm!"

"Can you fix it?" mumbled Harry, "I don't remember the incantation,"

Hermione nodded and muttered a spell to herself. The bleeding immediately stopped.

"You fixed your face?" asked Harry, looking at Ron, who looked positively normal.

"Yeah," grumbled Ron, "Just wait till I see Malfoy,"

"What happened to your arm?" Hermione repeated.

"Malfoy, the git," Harry began, "We were cleaning out Garden twelve – as punishment for fighting – and we started arguing again, and then he just goes completely mental and slices my arm open. So I locked him in the garden." Harry finished.

"Garden twelve?" asked Hermione, "Isn't that the one with the huge walls? Harry! How is he going to get out? He'll die with the heat!" she gasped.

"Relax, Hermione, he has his wand, he'll probably be on his way to Snape's office to get you in trouble now," Ron said, laughing at Harry's story.

Harry was silent for a moment, and then he pulled the two wands from his pocket.

"Harry!" gasped Hermione, "You didn't!"

Ron collapsed into silent laughter.

"Well, so what, he cut my arm! I was angry!" said Harry, trying hard to sound dignified.

"You have to go down, now, and take him out." Hermione said.

"Relax, Hermione," said Harry, "He's only been in there around fifteen minutes,"

"Plus the half an hour he's been cleaning it out, Harry, his skin's paler than yours – more sensitive," she retorted.

"I know, I know, I'll go down and take him out," said Harry, sloping out of the common room to the sound of Ron's laughter and Hermione's complaining.

Harry took a slow walk down to the garden, feeling a little nervous to see the look on Draco's face.

He'd probably punch him.

Maybe he deserved it.

He still, however, couldn't help feeling pleased with himself.

Harry walked down to the high-walled garden, then stopped short at the sight before him.

The door was open.

He stared, nonplussed for a few moments, and then, discovered the reason of the opened door.

Professor Snape stood at the entrance, a foul look of revulsion upon his pallid face. His black hair hung over his face like a curtain, but it did not cover his angry glare.

Harry could not help feel, even under these circumstances that it was unbelievable that Snape could wear so much black on a day like this and still walk around breathing.

"Follow me, Potter," he said.

They walked in silence to Hogwarts, then, closing in on the doors, Snape began to speak in a sallow, snide manner, "I pondered how long it would be before your guilty conscience brought you back, I didn't figure long, your father did the same thing, thought it would be amusing to-"

"I'm familiar with the story, professor," said Harry, his voice darkening at the sound of his father.

"Its very lucky I happened to hear Mr Malfoy's cries for help, otherwise he might have dehydrated from the heat," Snape said, stopping outside his office. "After you," he said, curtly.

Harry looked at the figure standing in Snape' office. The person turned, startled, Harry looked on, his eyes wide, before him stood Draco Malfoy, but his skin was no longer white and pale, his face, his neck, his shoulders and arms were as red as the envelope of a howler. He moved cautiously, his skin must be badly blistered, thought Harry. Draco scowled. Harry let out a snort of laughter. He couldn't help it, he couldn't keep it in, then he began to laugh out loud, Snape and Draco stared at him, glaring.

"That's quite enough, Mr Potter," snarled Snape. "Sit down,"

Harry walked over to the desk, laughing silently.

Draco looked even funnier up close; Harry began to laugh again, louder this time.

"Stop laughing at me," Draco growled.

"You look like a lobster wearing a wig," Harry said, between laughs.

Draco made a plunge for Harry.

"Sit down!" ordered Snape, and the two boys sat down.

"Potter, as you can see, your brainless, dim-witted antics have led to Mr Malfoy to roast in the sun. As you can see, his pale skin, highly sensitive to sunlight, ahs burned and blistered, what do you have to say for yourself?" said Snape.

"But Professor, look what he did to my arm!" Harry yelled, thrusting up his sleeve.

"However Potter, there is no proof-" Snape continued,

"No proof?" snorted Harry, "Yeah, well Malfoy has no proof that I locked him in the garden,"

"Is that so Potter?" Snape said, his lips curling into a smirk, "What's that in your pocket?"

Harry looked down at the two wands in his pocket. "Malfoy's wand, sir," he said.

"Ah, I think that's proof enough," smirked Snape.

Harry and Draco sat in silence, refusing to look at each other.

"I see you have a free period next, how fitting," Snape remarked, with fake pleasantness.

"But sir, I need that time for revising," Harry sighed.

"You will come to my dungeon and put together a calicalor potion in order to clear Mr Malfoy's skin condition. The calicalor potion is an extremely hard potion to create, but given you have the time of a free period and lunch, you should be able to manage." Said Snape.

"Excuse me, sir, but as it is fitting for Malfoy's health that this potion be perfect, shouldn't a potions master like yourself concoct it?" Harry asked, his eyebrows narrowing.

"I already have some calicalor stored away in my cupboard," Snape said, leaning back in his chair, "This, however, is to show that you truly have a part in repenting for your mistakes."

"Yes sir," Harry muttered.

"You may go, Mr Malfoy," Snape said, as Draco rose and left the room, "Mr Potter, you may begin the potion, page one hundred and eighty seven."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Considering Snape had said the calicalor potion was hard to put together, Harry couldn't help feeling that it was quite simpler than some of the potions he'd made last year. He felt pleased with himself as he crushed the camomile.

However, the process was long and gruelling, it truly tested patience, but Harry kept amused by thinking of Draco's burnt skin.

Harry looked down at his arm; the mark had already faded away where Draco had slashed him. He sighed, confused.

The only reason that Draco had flipped out was when Harry had implied that Draco was 'smitten with him'.

It was strange – the blushing, the look of upset in his face, but Harry had felt strangely obliged to tease him about these things. Why had he wanted to tease him about these things? Harry had no idea.

But he wished the room were a little cooler. His face felt like it was about to melt.

IIIIIIIIIIIII

The calicalor potion bubbled and fizzed bright sky blue. Snape looked at it. He seemed disappointed. It was clear he had hoped Harry would do it wrong.

"Very well, Potter, deliver it to Mr Malfoy immediately,"

Harry looked at his timetable; he was already a little late for Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, and his stomach growled, he'd completely missed lunch.

Malfoy could suffer through his next lesson, thought Harry, I need to eat, and then get to Transfiguration with an excuse.

But no sooner was he out of the dungeons when he heard a familiar drawling voice.

Harry thought that maybe Draco had stayed to wait for Harry so that he could apologise about cutting his arm.

"I hope that potion is ready, Potter," Draco said, leaning against the stone wall. He stood next to a crimson red tapestry, one of which he did not completely differ in colour.

"Yeah, its ready," said Harry, throwing him the bottle of blue mixture,

Draco unscrewed it straight away and patted it onto his face, he let out a sigh, he'd obviously been waiting for Harry so he could get the potion and soothe his burns.

Harry felt an unwelcome and strange jibe of disappointment. Why should he be feeling disappointed? It was only natural for Draco to want to soothe his burns, rather than wait to see Harry.

Harry watched as Draco's scarlet, blistered face returned to its familiar pale white. It automatically brought his potent features back to life, against his red skin, his pale grey eyes had looked kind of eerie and still, but now they looked meaningful, sparkling with a strange rarity that Harry had never seen in eyes, the blue grey twinges almost danced with life – they had a strange, confident flair. Harry gulped and shook off his stupid thoughts.

"Why are you watching me?" Draco asked uncertainly, rubbing mixture onto his arms.

Harry made a noise in the back of his throat and continued up the stairs. When he got to the top, he turned and looked back, flipping his dark, messy hair. Draco shot his a strange look, he raised an eyebrow. He looked intrigued, though, not annoyed at Harry.

Harry did a double take; did Draco see something in Harry's eyes just as Harry had seen in Draco's? Is that why he'd blushed, is that why he'd gotten mad at Harry for teasing him? Harry stared down with the blankest vacant expression as though a cog was sliding into place. The cog began to move. Harry snapped back to reality.

Draco's shirt hung off his shoulder as Draco tried to apply the liquid remedy to his shoulder blade; he was having a little trouble with it, looking as though he was comically trying to dislocate his bones.

"Do you need help?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow, despite the strange thoughts going on in his brain, Draco did look rather comical in what he was doing, Harry raised an eyebrow in amusement,

"No," he muttered, "I can handle it,"

Harry dumped his school bag on the stairs and walked back down.

"Here," he said, "Turn around,"

Stubbornly, Draco consented and turned, his back facing Harry.

Harry rubbed the blue mixture onto his hands and began rubbing it into Draco's back, which, as he could see, was almost as scalded as his face had been.

"I'm sorry I cut your arm," exclaimed Draco suddenly, his newly restored whiteness flushing pink.

Harry made a small noise of recognition, and watched as Draco's back returned to pale flesh.

Draco turned around.

Harry laughed. Draco still had a flake of red on his nose. Harry pinged Draco's nose and the flake disappeared into Draco's skin. Draco blinked hard.

They stood, staring at each other for a moment.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," said Draco rolling his arm, "It was agony before,"

"Yeah," said Harry, rubbing the back of his neck tenderly. "Sorry about that,"

"How about we try not to fight any more this term? No ore sticky situations" said Draco, picking up his own school bag and turning to leave.

Harry watched him walk down the corridor.

"I don't know," he blurted out.

Draco began to turn around on the spot.

"…I kind of," Harry muttered, blushing.

Draco gave him an astounded look.

"Liked it," Harry finished.

Draco stepped forwards.

They laughed.

Fin

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Wow, that was longer than I expected.

Ihad sunburn when I thought of this, and had camomile lotion all over my face, neck and shoulders. I looked completely ridiculous.

Anyway, thought up cute little one-shot in my head. It would be a simple, short one-shot in which Draco caught sunburn and Harry had lotion. Then it turned into this. Longer than I expected. Ha ha.

Anyway, comments, criticism, reviews, much appreciated,