Colours.

Chapter 1.

It was pouring down when Rose Thorn first bumped into him. No, not literally but it was extremely hard not to notice him. Her hair was a tumble of red curls down her back, running home hurriedly in the pelting rain then paused at the sound of laughter.

She turned to see a heavily placed log and a boy sat on top of it. He was different.

His hair was elegant inky black curls, eyes large hazel pupils and he wasn't in a suit like all the other gentlemen were in Umbridge, but rather a deep blue jacket....with a hood, jeans that were slightly a little tight (in her opinion) and his skin was a beautiful caramel silken tone.

Umbridge was a town that was indeed, racist. Only allowing the pale skinned to live among its lands and Rose had never ever seen someone with a coloured skin tone. "You'll be an amazing fly catcher one day if you keep that up" he called over to her to which she gaped "I beg your pardon!" she said, quite dramatically. She tried to stand tall but tripped when her wretched umbrella tried to run away with the wind.

"Naah, you don't need to beg for my pardon! Just ask" he grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes as Rose blinked in disbelief "do not talk to me in such a manner!" she demanded before realising she sounded a lot like her father. "Sorry there shortie" he held up his hands in defence, an easy smile at his lips still.

She eyed him before turning to head back home and forget about this strange stranger-

"What's your name then?" he asked still sitting on the log, and Rose looked on at him as if he'd grown another head "you should not even be speaking to me!" she reminded him just in case he'd forgotten that she was pale and he..... was a beautiful coloured boy.

"Oh really? why not" he asked with raised eyebrows and she rolled her eyes "I'd rather not explain, I find it stupid-" and paused for he'd defiantly laugh at her if she blurted out that she didn't agree with Umbridge's racist ways, and someone might hear her and tell her father whom was probably the most racist of them all!

"Well I'm going to need a reason not to talk to you" he commented before standing up, his tall lean form towering a head over Rose. A satchel hung on his shoulder, "why?" she found herself asking a tad curiously. He pondered her question before holding up a hand and rummaging in his satchell and cheering when he found whatever he was looking for.

Now, Rose would be lying if she said she wasn't preparing to run but paused in her little plan when he shoved a slighly battered flower into her hand. A pause took place in which Rose stared at the rose in her hand and the boy smiled at her brightly.

"Y-.. How do you know my name!" she exclaimed with surprise, eyes wide as if expecting him to perform a magic trick. "Oh your name is rose I didn't know, don't you speak floweriese" he said as if it were the most normal thing to ask.

"Floweriese?" she asked completely forgetting the rain when he smiled "yeah! Its the language of flowers" he told her leaning against a tree close by. "What does this rose mean?" she questioned with curiosity.

"A thorn-less rose, find out" and with one last heart wrenching smile he turned and walked away, the stormy rain clouding over her.

                                               *   *    *   *   *   *    *

She soon arrived home, soaking and shivering. "Rose!" her dad scolded with a frown draping a woolen shawl over her before dragging her to sit down. The rose was a little curled up ball in her dress pocket and she laughed shakily "s- sorry f- father".

He was all too used to her being a rebel and not listening to him when he told her such things (for example "take an umbrella and warm clothes, it'll rain dear" was what he told her in the morning) no.. she didn't listen.

"I'm glad you're home" he said with a look of disgust upon his face and Rose clutched the cover a little over her to warm her wracking form. "What is the matter father?"

"A coloured music group has come to Umbridge to do a few shows here" he said with more disgust and Rose looked to the floor, remembering inky curls and a bright smile of the coloured boy "Um..... Okay, night father" and waved before quickly hurrying to her room and slapping the rose down on to her dressing gown, rain pattering against the window, the sky tinting a midnight blue.

"You strange stranger, I really hope we don't see each other again"

But without her knowledge, her heart yearned for him.

Vote, Comment, Smile And Stay Beautiful.