Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to J.K Rowling.
Rain
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said. She just glared at him.
They were standing outside. In a little alcove that protected them from the weather. It was raining.
To her, everything was dark. Torrents fell from the dull grey sky, soaking the people scurrying back and forth across the ground. Suits of dark grey and black shouldered their way against the harsh wind. Rivets of water worked their way around the alcove, rapidly forming puddles of dark water. If she looked into them it was like an abyss, falling away to the centre of the earth and dragging her away with it. To her, the world had been covered with a veil of grey. She hated the rain.
"I reckon you can tell a lot about a person simply from the type of umbrella they have," he said. She turned away from him.
To him, the day was beautiful. The sky was a gorgeous shade of silver. Puddles grew everywhere. Perfect for the little kids, dressed up brightly in matching raincoat, gumboots and umbrella, to cavort in. They splashed the clear water back into the sky to meet its brothers and sisters still falling. People ran through the rain, playing an elaborate game of dodging in and out of shelter in an attempt to avoid the soaking drops. Here and there rays of sunlight glowed, casting tiny rainbows into the air. And the colours of the umbrellas. He could see brilliant blues, glorious greens, radiant reds, dazzling purples, exquisite oranges and sublime yellows. It was delightful. It made his heart feel light. He loved the rain.
"Like, you have the bright outgoing types who have bright coloured umbrellas that stand out in the crowd," he said. She glanced at the garishly red umbrella leaning next to him.
"And then there are those who are conservative and conventional, and they have those stripey blue and white umbrellas. The traditional umbrellas." he said. She watched the men in suits walk past briskly, their blue and white striped umbrellas held primly forward to protect against the wind and rain.
"And then, you have those people who don't really care. They use corny old umbrellas, which have been given to them by uncaring relatives, which are broken and wrecked." he said. She glared at him again and pointedly ignored the black umbrella lying pathetically at her feet, blown inside out with the arms poking through the ragged hole sharply.
"Is there a point to this?" she asked. He smiled delightedly. She looked at him, puzzled.
"But, of course," he said, "It got you to talk to me didn't it?"
She looked down as her feet. It was silly, she thought to herself, but his grin made the day seem a little brighter after all. She looked back and smiled a little smile. He smiled back, grinning widely.
Maybe the rain wasn't so bad after all.
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