Crying In The Rain

Disclaimer: I don't own Ron, Hermione, Harry or Viktor Krum. I do own the ridiculously annoying screech owl though. Too bad he's too loud to actually keep. Always screeching, keeping me up and waking Uncle Vernon, I mean my dad. I'm talking nonsense. Or codswallop as Hagrid would say. I need to get more sleep.

Author's Note: This is a short little ficlet. Only two chapters. But I had inspiration. I mean who wouldn't be inspired by the Everly brothers. Incidentally, they own the song as well. Guess I should have mentioned that before in the disclaimer. Well, I'm too lazy. Just imagine it says THE EVERLY BROTHERS OWN THIS SONG up there. Anyway, I'm done with the author's note. Now, brace yourself for some pure unadulterated Ron and Hermione fluff.

Chapter 1: The Rain

"Hermione, would you quit it?" Ron complained.

"What?" she asked.

"Stop looking up every two seconds. You're making my neck hurt. You, of all people, should know the mail comes at the exact same time everyday. So, why are you checking now? Are you expecting something?" he asked.

"Actually, I am," she said, tossing her curly, brown hair over her shoulder and looking him straight in the eye.

Harry saw this and tried to divert disaster.

"Really? From whom?" he asked.

"Viktor," she said, turning to Harry and smiling. "It's our nine month anniversary today and I want to see if he remembered. He sent he a lovely gift for eight months. I only wish my parents hadn't intercepted the owl first. They asked so many questions about him. I didn't dare ask to visit Bulgaria since they were so worked up about a present."

As Hermione rambled, Harry thought he saw a pained expression on Ron's face but the next moment it was gone. Harry told himself it had been his imagination.

Meanwhile, Ron was mentally slapping himself for bringing up her incessant looking. He should have known everything would eventually lead back to Vicky. Ever since school had started two weeks ago, Hermione seemed to tie everything to her precious Vicky.

Viktor knew all about chess, she would say.

Nundus? Viktor had a cousin who helped capture a Nundu in Africa.

Viktor this, Viktor that. It was enough to drive a bloke off his trolley, and Ron Phillip Weasley was teetering on the edge.

A loud screeching pierced the idle chatter of the Great Hall and caught Ron's attention. In front of a huge group of owls, a rusty coloured one was wailing up a storm. A number of students put their hands over their ears. Ron noticed the owl was carrying a large bundle of roses and was headed straight for Hermione.

"Bloody Bulgarian sent a screech owl!" Ron yelled over the noise.

Hermione sent Ron a small glare but quickly turned her attention back to the owl. She caught the bouquet, as it dropped. The screech owl flew straight out of the Hall, to the pleasure of everyone. Another shriek, a short one this time, called everyone's attention back to the skies. A spotted owl flew in with a brightly coloured package in its talons. This was also dropped to Hermione. She opened it to find three extremely, expensive looking books.

"Oh Viktor," she said, even though the Bulgarian wasn't anywhere near. "You shouldn't have."

That was not the end to the excitement though. Seven low, but loud hoots marked the entrance of the pièce de resistance. A great horned owl that must have had a fifty-five inch wingspan flew in with a very large bow, with purple wrapping paper, in its claws. It circled the room once and flew low over the Gryffindors before setting the bow in front of Hermione and leaving. Everyone watched as she opened the gift.

She lifted out a pair of beautiful, silver, shimmery, high heeled shoes. They were just perfect for Hermione, but the real present was yet to be seen. She reached in again and came up with what looked like two black strings, for a second, until they revealed they were the spaghetti straps to the most gorgeous ball dress. It was black and had green and purple threads woven in so it looked green from one angle, black from another and purple from another. The material was folded at the chest area, like someone had purposely grabbed the dress and bunched the top to make the breasts more prominent. It must have cost a fortune. Something Ron just didn't have, but Viktor obviously did. Ron could never afford the things Viktor could.

Ron turned his head away from the dress and Hermione. Whilst Lavender and parvati cooed over the beautiful garment, Ron yelled at himself in his mind.

Don't you dare cry. Hermione's not yours, accept it. Don't you dare cry, Weasley. Don't be a pansy! Don't let her see you cry!

~~~~

I'll never let you see,

The way my broken heart is hurting me.

I've got my pride and I know how to hide

All my sorrow and pain.

I'll do my crying in the rain.

~~~~

Ron blinked profusely to stop the stinging behind his eyes. You're a Weasley, damnit! Weasleys don't cry in front of anyone, he told himself.

He looked up at the ceiling and saw that the dark clouds above had unleashed the storm they had been threatening. He was so lucky. He thanked whatever gods were listening and got up abruptly.

Swallowing the growing lump in his throat, he complimented Hermione on her gifts and gave some lame excuse to leave. He walked out of the Great Hall quickly and broke into a run upon reaching the Entrance Hall. Thanking the gods that is was a Saturday and there were no classes, he burst through the school doors and tore across the lawn towards the lake as the raindrops started to fall. No one would notice tears if his whole body was soaking.

~~~~

If I wait for cloudy skies,

You won't know the rain from the tears in my eyes.

You'll never know that I still love you so,

Though the heartaches remain.

I'll do my crying in the rain.

~~~~

Ron stood on the edge of the lake and let the tears flow. He lifted his head to the heavens so the rain could wash away his tears as fast as they fell. It was a cushion for his pride to know that no one would know he was crying, but the disguise did little to actually relieve his suffering. Hermione was with Krum. His Hermione was with Krum and nothing could ever take away his pain until she was in his arms. Only when Hermione was actually his, in reality not just his dreams, would any of his anguish be alleviated.

But he knew that could never happen. He wasn't good enough for her. He didn't have the money, the fame, the looks or the skills to make her happy. He could never be worthy of her. So this was the only option. Pretend to be happy for her and vent his feelings when no one would ever know the difference.

~~~~

Raindrops falling from heaven,

Could never wash away my misery.

But since we're not together, I'll look for stormy weather

To hide these tears I hope you'll never see.

~~~~

One day, he thought, one day, I'll be over her and then I'll be able to tell her truthfully and honestly, that I hope she and Viktor will be very happy together. That I'd be happy to be the godfather of their son. That nothing would make me happier than to give a toast at their fiftieth anniversary. One day, I'll be able to do that, but not any time soon. Until then I just have to make sure she never sees me upset about it. No fights about it, no hurt looks and definitely no crying. The only time it's okay for me to cry about this is when it's raining, like now.

A fresh wave of tears came as he thought about his Hermione and Krum's wedding day. About the baby with her chocolate brown eyes and Krum's big, ugly, bushy eyebrows. About toasting a couple who should never get married in the first place. Obviously, he was nowhere near the 'I'm happy for you. Really. I am' stage. And he was in no state to go back in and even pretend to be happy.

~~~~

Someday when my crying's done.

I'm gonna wear a smile and walk in the sun.

I may be a fool but 'till then, darling, you'll

Never see me complain.

I'll do my crying in the rain.

I'll do my crying in the rain.

I'll do my crying in the rain.

~~~~