A/N: This is a really random one-shot that I thought up when I was meant to be writing a monologue for my drama assessment. It's from Hermione's point of view, just after the battle, when she follows Ron into the grounds because he is grieving for Fred. I guess you could say that it's written from the heart.
She slipped quietly out of the entrance hall doors and out into the pouring rain. The heavy raindrops were attacking her bare skin and sending violent shivers down her spine. But she didn't even care. He'd said that he was going to take a walk. But she knew better, she knew that it was just a ruse for him to be alone. And she would have gladly left him alone, to deal with it himself. But she had this strong feeling that he would, eventually, need some company.
She saw his shaking figure standing in the distance, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the deep, murky waters of the lake. She slowly walked over to him and slid her pale fingers through his. He turned his face up so that their eyes locked, and many unanswered questions flitted between them. She could see that his eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd just been crying his heart out. But the droplets of rain that littered his face cleverly disguised any tears that dared to fall.
She slid her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his broad shoulder. He slid his arms around her slender waist and did the same. They just stood like that for what felt like an eternity. Each one holding the other tightly, their wet clothes melding together and fixing any spaces between them. Their bodies were shaking violently with cold, but they both felt the warmest that they had in ages. She could still smell that wonderful aroma that emanated from his hair. The one that she could never name, but would let consume her whenever she got near enough.
They eventually did break apart and she cupped his wet cheek with her hand and lent in for the kiss. They both pressed their lips together and felt new shivers run down their bodies, which had nothing to do with the cold. It was the tenderest of kisses but it had so much meaning to them both. Their arms were still wrapped around each other in the same position, as they deepened the kiss, fuelled with passion.
A few minutes passed, before they pulled apart once more. She stared up at his shimmery, pale blue eyes, his sweet, silky red locks that were pasted across his forehead, near his faint splattering of freckles, which she wished she could just kiss right off his perfectly shaped face. There was only one thing that she would say to him, one thing before she could leave his side again.
"I will be here for you," She choked out "Whenever you need me."