April Showers

Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.

~Unknown

"Merlin," Hermione muttered under her breath as she glanced out her window into the dreary weather. "You wouldn't even know it was spring outside when it's raining like this. Forget April Showers, this is a full storm."

It had been a dreary week overall, the bout of bad weather was not simply a rainy cloud as many of the Muggle weathermen predicted— but a week long storm that mulled over London, just waiting to drop its load onto the streets below. Cold winds rattled the window panes and forced the young witch to retreat to the small jam jar with a fire burning merrily within it. Her office had a strict policy on heating devices, and the jam jar doubled as a pencil holder on the nicer days to deter any suspicion.

Brown eyes flickered towards the clock on the wall, Just ten more minutes... Hermione mused. And then you're home free.

The job was a setback. Initially she had taken it just for the winter months while she finished school and Ron solidified himself as a credible Auror. But Life had other plans. Things fell through, Hermione now lived alone, and the 'Brightest Witch of this Generation' was stuck being the underpaid secretary for Don Fetra— a highly established Ministry worker who did none of his own work but got all the credit.

But, hey– at least she got an enchanted window.

And on days like this, it wasn't much.

"We'll, I'm off!" Hermione said, to no one in particular. "I guess I'll have to take my brolly, won't I?" She sighed softly, filing away the latest report she had been working on. The young woman pulled on her coat and extinguished her jam jar, an odd, unpleasant feeling settled in her stomach.

Above her, the clock chimed five o'clock— and Hermione made her way towards the front of the office. Grabbing her obnoxiously red umbrella, a gift from some of her office mates, the young woman pulled her coat tighter around her body and made her way out of the Ministry of Magic.

The weather outside stayed true with her little window; the sky was black with rain clouds, the air humid and heavy. Hermione hurriedly made her way to the Appariting station, eager to get her chores done so she could retreat to the comfort of her apartment. Despite the unsettling feeling in her stomach, a wave of anticipation engulfed her at the thought of a nice, hot bubble bath.

Once it was her turn, the young witch apparited to Muggle London— her preferred shopping location. It always seemed to make her feel better, if not, at least it reminded her of her parents. Stepping out of the dark alley, Hermione popped open her cheery umbrella to shield herself from the drizzle that had begun and disappeared into the crowds.

Absent-mindedly, Hermione began to list off her short shopping list, her mind wandering as it filed through the routine necessities that she always seemed to be needing. I need to stop by the grocery store and pick up some milk, eggs, butter, fresh greens, shampoo—

"Hey, Granger, mind if I mooch off your umbrella?"

Hermione stiffened at her name, only one person she knew still called her 'Granger'— and had the audacity to ask if he could 'mooch off her umbrella'. However, despite her initial annoyance— she had been looking forward to a nice, quiet evening and that just wasn't a possibility in his company— a wide smile began to grace her face.

"George Weasley! What are you doing here? I thought that you were in Paris at your new store!" Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had recently opened a new location in Paris, France– catering to the pranking need of deprived Beauxbatons students.

The redhead grinned, wrapping the young woman in a tight hug. "Decided to stop by for a week or so–mum was practically in a tizzy when she discovered how thin I'd gotten. Parisian food just doesn't stick with me as well as a nice Shepard's Pie." George grinned, "And plus, sometimes it's nice to talk to somebody in your native tongue."

"Touché,"

"Don't you start!"

The pair laughed for a moment, smiling at one another. Hermione hadn't seen a member of the Weasley family for quite a few months, ever since her and Ron's not-so-amiable split, the brunette had felt a little... Uncomfortable around them. Between the pitying glances and soft whispers, Hermione felt like an insect under a microscope, or a bomb everybody was waiting to explode.

But she was fine, really. She was... Fine.

"So what brings you to Muggle London, Granger?"

Hermione shrugged, she couldn't bear to tell him the real reason— that could be disastrous for her emotions and it had already been a tolling week. Perhaps she could say something about privacy, or maybe she could lie and say she was meeting somebody...

But that was wrong, wasn't it? George was a friend, a dear friend, and he didn't deserve to be lied to. She inwardly groaned, why had life suddenly become so challenging? No longer could she find solace in spell books and carefully-worded essays, but she found herself facing huge problems on her own.

And unfortunately, she was sinking rather than swimming.

"It's because of your parents, isn't it?" Hermione looked up, startled at his bluntness. George continued, "Ron told us last Christmas— the one you skipped— that you'd finally found them, but the memory charm was too potent to remove. We were all worried about you, but decided you probably needed some time alone— that you'd come back in your own time. But you never came back."

This conversation was not going in the direction Hermione wanted.

Her throat closed up on her, and Hermione found herself gripping the brolly's handle tighter. "My mum used to bring me here to do the shopping,"

"And now you're bringing me!" George interrupted brightly, his voice cheery despite the heavy subject. "Come on Hermione, it'll be fun! It's been so long since we've seen each other, and mum would kill me if she found out I didn't help you like a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" Hermione asked, fighting a grin.

George just snorted, "I know, right? It's like she still thinks there's hope or something."

"So, George— what brings you to Muggle London?"

The ginger shrugged, his long legs leaping over a puddle in the street. He looks happy, Hermione realized. George looks really happy. Maybe it was the way his eyes lit up every time he talked, or how his smile came easily and free. Paris had been good for him.

"What am I doing here? Sometimes, my dear Hermione, I just need to get away." And despite his cheeky wink, which caused Hermione to blush a little, she noticed a touch of seriousness in his voice. "I bet you know all about that, don't you Granger? I bet this is where you bring all you dates, don't you?"

There goes the serious tone.

It was that simple. George pushed himself into her afternoon plans, and Hermione knew he wasn't budging. Maybe this was what she needed all along, a little laughter.

And laugh she did. Hermione hadn't laughed as hard as she did in that grocery store. It was like shopping with a child, an honest-to-God adult that had never bothered to grow up. And surprisingly, the young woman found herself enjoying every moment she spent with George.

"George, what is this?"

The man shrugged, examining a rubber duck. "I don't know, maybe a pack of cheaply made underwear with rainbows on them. I thought you might like them."

Hermione snorted, discarding the package on the shelf. "I told you what we need, let's just stick to that okay?"

"Why would I ever do that? It's simply no fun that way." The ginger responded with a grin, tossing in the rubber duck.

The brunette rolled her eyes, picking up the rubber duck and setting it down on a lower shelf. "How's Angie? Weren't you two dating for a while?"

George shrugged, "We broke it off. I didn't feel comfortable dating Fred's old girlfriend. We both decided we needed a fresh start,"

"Ah." How does one respond to that? Hermione felt like she wanted to say something else, but she couldn't find the appropriate words.

"Ron's still a git, in case you're wondering. Everybody's mad at him for chasing you off. He shouldn't have said those horrid things about you."

It was Hermione's turn to shrug. "I think what's hurt the most about it all is that I lost you." There was an awkward pause and Hermione realized what she had just said. "I mean, the Weasley family. Not just you in particular. Well, I mean I have missed you, but not just you. I mean... Oh, forget it."

He just chuckled, "I've missed you too. We've all missed you. It hurt when I didn't see you at my birthday celebration." George grinned, clutching his heart in mock pain.

"I didn't know if I was welcome, what with me missing the holidays and Ron's new fiancée..." Hermione trailed off, decidedly examining a bottle of shampoo furiously,

The was a warm hand on her shoulder. "You're always welcome home, Hermione."

"Thanks," she whispered. And suddenly, things were beginning to look brighter.

As the pair checked out at the front, Hermione slipped her hand into his, surprised that the two fit together perfectly.

She wasn't used to being this forward, and it had been a while since anybody had been forward with her. And she hoped to God that she wasn't misreading anything and didn't make things even more awkward for her relationship with the Weasley's. But... She found herself wanting to hold his hand.

George, in one afternoon, had made her feel happier and more lively than she had in almost a year. All afternoon he had been kind, and warm, and funny, and sweet, and... Well... Perfect. He was handsome, his missing ear making him look only more rugged and dashing, and knew when to be funny, and when to be serious. And she would hate to lose his friendship. She'd hate to lose him.

Hermione wouldn't say she was in love with George, not yet anyway, but the potential was there.

It was definitely there.

The young woman quietly thanked the cashier, about to let George's hand go, when he threaded his fingers with her as he grabbed their groceries. He had a small smile, and he was definitely holding her hand back.

They walked outside together, hand in hand. And for the first time in a long time, Hermione felt hope. Everything would get better, she just had to get through this rough patch in her life.

The air was warm, the fresh smell of rain filled the air as the sun began to shyly peek out from behind the clouds.

It was finally spring. A fresh start to a new season. A new stage to her life.

And Hermione Granger had never seen a more beautiful beginning.

A/N: Well. Not exactly how I planned on it turning out, but I think it's alright— don't you? Written for the Twin Exchange Monthly Challenge (you guys should vote for me! That would be awesome!), it's chock full of fluff. Lots and lots of fluff.

This couple is beginning to grow on me, don't ask me why, but I'm starting to find them kind of adorable. Who knows where that will lead!

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

~Ella