It's raining outside, you can hear it. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof is a sound so unmistakable to your ears that you don't even have to look out a window—you just know. You're sitting at a kitchen table by yourself and there's a sad smile on your face, because these rain-detecting skills are all thanks to her— that beautiful redhead who lived for rainstorms.
Whenever it rained at school (which was quite often) she'd run to a window, and within seconds her face would light up like a Christmas tree. It always made you laugh, how childish she would become. She'd grab your hand and pull you, all the way downstairs, till quite suddenly you found yourself outside and drenched. But you never really minded.
It seemed ironic to you, that a girl so full of life and happiness loved dark and grey weather best of all…though, you decided, maybe it was fitting. Despite the miserable weather, her antics would always leave a smile on your face; she loved to dance in the rain. You would stand with her for a moment—just a moment, still getting used to the feeling of being soaked—and then she'd grab your hands again, laughing, and begin to spin you around.
C'mon Remus, dance with me!
Her voice echoes in your head, and if you close your eyes you can still see her, twirling round and round as though it's the most perfect moment of her life. And, you decide, it probably was, each and every time.
It's times like this when you remember her the clearest, and it's times like this when you miss her the most. Her kind words, her soft laugh, her beautiful smile. She was everything to you, and you don't know what you would have done without her all those years ago.
Your mother was there for me at a time when no one else was.
You remember telling her son that, over three years ago. You didn't go into any detail at the time, but as you spoke your mind was flooded with snapshot memories and flashes of red hair. She'd stood by you when even your best friend questioned your loyalty, and that's something you'll never forget.
But both she and your best friend are gone now; one's been dead fifteen years, the other four months, and you've slipped into a silent stupor that's only broken by your duty to the Order. A week after her death it rained, and you couldn't bear to hear or see it; you ran down the wooden steps of your country home, locking yourself in the basement with only your tears and a pillow to sleep on. Now, you're considering doing it again.
You sigh, and stand up from the wooden chair you've been sitting in for over an hour. You walk to the widow, and lean your warm forehead against the cool glass; your cheeks are flushed from the now empty bottle of gin residing on that kitchen table, and you welcome the relief of the glass.
You lose yourself for a moment, perhaps lost in thought, and before you know it you're outside, quite suddenly becoming soaked from the heavy downpour surrounding you. You lift your head upward and close your eyes, and for a moment, for just one blissful moment, you're back at school with her.
C'mon Remus, dance with me! You're already wet, so why not just dance? Don't you dare tell me you can't, because everyone can. You've just got to want to, and if you know what's good for you, Remus Lupin, you'll want to.
The spell's broken now, and you open your eyes to see trees surrounding you without a castle in sight. There's a terrible, sad ghost of a smile on your face, but as you stand still, soaking in the rain, you feel as though you're being cleansed.
There's something incredibly forgiving about the rain, don't you think? Almost like it washes you clean each time, giving you a brand new chance.
Her words echo in your mind again; you'd shaken your head and laughed quietly when she said them to you all those years ago, but now you're finally understanding what she meant. And now, finally, you're understanding why she loved the rain so dearly.
A/N: Excruciatingly short, I know—almost too short to even be posted, but I didn't want to draw it out and make it cheesy. Anyway, I would love if you left me a review and let me know what you think—it'd only take you a second, and I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.