Remember When it Rained?
Arthur had just put another piece of wood on the fire in the drawing room and was heading upstairs to bed when he heard the pop of people apparating in the garden. Moments later, his son Ron and his fiancée Hermione Granger entered the Burrow, soaked to the skin. Arthur saw a fork of lightning pierce the sky and heard the distant rumble of thunder as the door to the kitchen swung shut.
"Hello, you two. Planning on spending the night?"
"Hi, Dad. Yeah, if we could. It's a nightmare out there!"
"I'll tell your mother. She'll want to fix up your old room for you. And while she's at it, she'll probably insist on feeding the two of you as well."
"Please, Mr. Weasley, it's late. We can manage on our own. We'll be fine, really. Looks as if you're off to bed anyway."
"Well, it has been a very long day. I expect Molly's already asleep actually. And if you really don't mind," he stifled a huge yawn, "I'm going to head that way myself."
"Go on, Dad. We can take care of ourselves."
"I know. Just don't blame me tomorrow when your mother yells that you didn't think to wake her when you arrived." Arthur headed out of the kitchen and a few seconds later, Ron and Hermione heard his tired feet climbing the stairs, slowly leaving them alone.
When they were quite sure he was gone, Ron dropped into a chair at the scrubbed wooden table and Hermione began rummaging for teacups and the kettle. Ron admired her from behind for awhile as she set about making tea, and then went to find some dry clothes for them both. When the tea was ready and they had changed into a couple old pairs of Ron's pajamas, they took their cups into the drawing room and sat in front of the fire.
Hermione seemed lost in thought. Ron snuggled closer to her and kissed her softly on the neck. She looked at him then. There was so much contained in that one look.
"I love you," Ron whispered.
"I love you too, Ron. Can we talk about something?"
"Sure, love. What's on your mind? You seemed a million miles away just a minute ago."
"More like five years away. Do you remember what happened on this night five years ago?"
"Let's see…five years ago, Merlin, has it been that long? Five years ago…we…we were hunting Horcruxes with Harry…" Ron's voice trailed off as he remembered those terrible early months of their quest. What had happened near the end of October, though?
"Remember, the night we spent on the riverbank? Remember when it rained? It was on this night, exactly five years ago."
Oh no. This was what she wanted to talk about? The night he had walked out on them?
"'Mione, please. Can we talk about something else? Anything else? Please?"
"Ron, we're going to have to face it eventually, and tonight's as good—"
"I thought we had faced it. I thought that part of our lives was forgotten. I thought…" Ron was desperately trying not to lose control of his emotions. "I thought we were past this. I thought you loved me anyway," he finished quietly. He sounded hurt and Hermione felt her own heart break a little as he said the last six words.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley," she said, trying to sound both stern and comforting at the same time, "I love you more than anyone else in the world, Wizarding or Muggle."
"Muggle? Who did you ever love in the Muggle world? Apart from your family, of course."
"Well, there was Billy Jensen in primary school. I was young, it was a crush…But that's not the point. The point is I love you. I've loved you since our third year. Nothing you ever did changed that. Sure, I got annoyed with you. Sure, you royally pissed me off a couple of times. But I never stopped loving you. I just want to know…the truth. Why did you leave us that night? I stood out in that rain for I don't know how long calling for you. You even admitted to me that you heard me. Why didn't you come back?"
Hermione was close to tears now. Ron held her close to him for a few minutes, marshalling his thoughts and stroking her bushy hair, even frizzier after the rain and being dried by the warmth of the fire. Then, finally, he answered her.
"I don't know. I know that's not the answer you want to hear, but I honestly don't know. If I really try to remember how it was that night, I think I was angry. Really angry. Not at you. I could never be truly angry at you, love. I just felt…misled, misguided. It wasn't even Harry I was angry at, to tell the truth. I was tired of being a follower. I wanted to be a leader. A guide. I wanted to be more than just Ron Weasley, best friend to The Boy Who Lived.
"It was the situation I was angry at. I was angry at Dumbledore for putting us in that situation. I knew it wouldn't do any good to be angry at Dumbledore, but Merlin help me, I was. And…and I just needed some time to sort myself out before I came back to you. I needed to know…needed really to know that I wasn't really like how I was when it was my turn to wear the Horcrux. Because I loved you, 'Mione. I'd loved you for as long as you'd loved me. And I still do. And I always will."
They looked into each other's eyes, both pairs brimming with unshed tears, and then they were kissing. Passionately kissing. Wild centaurs couldn't have broken them from each other.
They fell asleep on the sofa in front of the fire in each other's arms, and that was how Molly and Arthur found them the next morning.
Author's Notes: Originally written for the LJ Community flashfic_rhr's prompt rain in January 2008.