Hello my lovely readers! This is my second fic ever posted! For those of you reading Dreamer, please don't kill me! I know its only been two days sense chapter 4, but I've decided that after every chapter, I will post a one shot. I have so many ideas bouncing around my head that I will explode. If I explode than who will finish Dreamer? So, I thought I would give everyone some tooth rotting, fluffy goodness. The T rating is just in case. Its probably only a K+, but T to be safe. Thanks again!

Pairing: Harry and Hermione. Don't approve, guess you could pretend that this was a one time thing. I don't think it was, but you can if you want.

Disclaimer: Of course I'm J.K. That is why I am writing fan fiction about my own stories, when I could have more books published.

Harry had always, always, been afraid of storms. He had for as long as he could remember. Maybe it was because the thunder had always rocked his cupboard under the stairs or possibly brought his mind back to the night his parents had been murdered. Either way, he was always terrified. The loud thunder would leave him shaking and the flashes of lighting could bring him to tears. It's not like he had ever told anyone. It was a very childish fear. There were so many things he had gone through and it was highly embarrassing that he was still afraid of something as trivial as a storm. Storms were not his biggest fear; so why bother his friends? Sure Ron was afraid of spiders and Hermione was afraid of failing. Those were small fears, safe fears. It didn't keep them awake at night. Harry felt like he needed to protect them. He tried to keep them away from the worst of his life and failed. How was it fair to them for him to add another thing to worry about? He had to be strong, tough. This was something he could handle on his own, something he always handled on his own. It was laughable to think that the Dursleys would comfort him. The habit of keeping that particular fear to himself had not died when he went to school. Usually he would pull the hangings around his bed, hide under the covers, and stick his head under the pillow. Tonight was different. The storm was the loudest he had ever experienced. The lightning was restless and the rain pelted the roof. Everything was magnified across the stone. Of course it had stormed before, seeing as he lived at the castle for most of the year, for 5 years. However, this was different. No matter how many wards were on the castle, the storm refused to be kept out. The professors advised the students to stay inside, in their dorms and common rooms. In fact, conditions were so bad that classes were canceled for the day. Harry had suffered in silence. Somehow the storm had worsened in the night. It was now one and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He crept out of his bed. Ron, Seamus, and Dean snored softly. Harry couldn't believe the things they could sleep through. Death Eaters could take over the castle and they would still be asleep. Harry crept down the stairs of the 6th year boys dormitory and made his way to the empty common room. The room was pitch dark; the house-elves had not kept the fire going. The storm mixed in with the dark really freaked Harry out. He had forgotten his wand in his dorm and couldn't find the stairs again. Not like it would do him any good anyway. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room. Thunder boomed directly afterwards, shaking the entire castle. Harry couldn't suppress a whimper. He felt pathetic, shaking like a leaf over a storm. Maybe he could find the couch at the next lightning strike and kip there. Another flash of lighting later, Harry was curled up in ball on the couch. This
was ridiculous; he had faught Voldemort, survived the Triwizard torniment, went back in time. Why on earth did storms effect him like this? Harry refused to cry, but his mask was slipping. At least no one was here to see him like this.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, tentivly. Guess he spoke too soon.

"Hermione, what are you doing up?" Harry inquired, his voice breaking. He mentally winced; so much for hiding things. Maybe she would go away.

"I was watching the storm and heard a noise down here. Are you ok?" Of course Hermione would hear a noise during a storm.

"I'm fine." He thought that sounded convincing. Lightning hit right outside the window and the thunder sounded like a bomb. Harry jumped a foot in the air, falling off the couch.

"Harry James Potter, tell me what's wrong this instant!" If Harry could see her, he knew she would have on her classic death glare.

"Noth-n-nothing." Stuttering was even worse. Hermione rushed to his side at once. The lightning illuminated her face. Her chocolate brown eyes were filled with worry. This was exactly what Harry wanted to avoid.

"You can tell me anything." He could, but it didn't mean he wanted to.

"Just drop it Hermione, please." What he wouldn't give to be huddled under the covers in his own bed. He was dangerous close to his break point.

"You've been acting odd all day. Ever sense the- oh." Hermione's eyes lit up with understanding. It was so obvious that she couldn't believe she didn't think of it before.

"The what?" Harry was on edge. He knew he was caught but that didnt mean he was going to give up.

"When I was little my parents used to tell me that lightning was only search lights for lost angels and thunder was just noise from a good game of cloud bowling. After that, I grew very fond of thunder storms. I would look out the window and found beauty in the chaos. Storms cause distruction, but at the end of every one the sun comes out again." Hermione smiled and Harry would have if it hadn't been for a nasty clap of thunder. He couldn't stop a single tear from rolling down his face. Hermione threw her arms around him. Harry never realized how warm, how soft, she was. He couldn't help himself and pressed his lips onto hers. The softness of her lips, the feeling of her tongue exploring his mouth was electrifying. Harry bit her bottom lip, causing Hermione to make a small noise. He tried to find every sensitive spot there was, just to hear that little noise. It felt amazing knowing he was making her fell such pleasure. Hermione was a storm: her unruly, bushy, brown hair, her electrifying kisses and she was the sun after, with her warm brown eyes and compassionate nature. Lightning stuck and thunder roared outside, but Harry couldn't care less. After all, lightning was only search lights for lost angels and thunder was just noise from a good game of cloud bowling.
Fin

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