Challenge Prompt: Word prompt - rain/thunderstorm
Setting: A Saturday in the summer, 3 years after the Battle of Hogwarts, no epilogue, some details vary (will be made clear in-story).
It was raining again. Narcissa was never sure whether she loved or hated the rain.
Everything she had done, she had done for the sake of a better world. Traditions had kept their world safe and strong for centuries, and the muggle world was changing so much. There was no way to keep the muggle-borns from changing their world, destroying everything of value through ignorance.
They weren't weaker, that much was obvious. But they were outsiders. In her grandparents' time, they had wanted to assimilate, to learn about their new world and become part of it. Now, they viewed it as backward, broken.
She laughed bitterly as she stared down at the graves before her. She had turned on her master because, in the end, he was willing to sacrifice her family for his own ego. None of them had known his true death would kill all those who had taken the mark.
She betrayed everything she had ever believed in to save her son, and her repayment was to bury both son and husband. A widow, the widow of a death eater, nobody with any influence would care to look at her. Her money all but lost, her influence gone. One sister dead (though in truth, Bella had been lost to them years ago), another…
Andromeda had written her, asking to mend fences. How could Narcissa betray her family again? If she hadn't turned, Voldemort wouldn't have lost, and her family would be alive. Whether anyone else would admit it, she was the reason her son and her husband were dead. One instant of weakness, one moment of turning her back on their ideals, and everything was lost. How could she go to her sister, help raise her sister's tainted grandchild?
The rain hid her tears, as she fell to her knees. There were no sobs, no words, just silent tears washed away by the rain.
She pulled the vial out of her pocket, stared at it. For hours she knelt in the mud, staring, wondering why she didn't simply do what everyone else wanted. Andromeda was the only one that would miss her, and she would grieve quickly.
As night fell and the rain began to slow, she stood. No pureblood belonged in the mud, and only when the rain let her cry did she ever let herself forget this. Casting a quick charm to clean herself off, she turned and apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Her family was dead, but she would not let the mudbloods destroy everything they had fought and died for.
Hermione loved the rain.
Her house wasn't particularly large, but it was home nevertheless. Being heroes had made them all famous of course, but it turned out fame didn't always pay very well.
Still, she had no complaints. Her library took up most of the house, and her reading chair was luxuriously comfortable. Her kitchen was small, but she didn't need much space to cook for herself.
Her relationship with Ron had been intense, but perhaps doomed from the start. She had no interest in marrying anyone for years yet, but the wizarding world married so young. When he had proposed and she said no, he was heartbroken. How was she supposed to know that tradition demanded that Ron move on, or that he would follow that tradition? Hermione hadn't wanted to break up, she just wanted to explore life without the bonds of marriage for a while.
Her parents, of course, were lost to her. Her memory charm had been too strong. Without realizing it, she had poured all of her fear, all of her love, all of her desire to protect them into the memory charms, and without equally strong emotions she had no hope of breaking it. She hadn't told anyone else in the wizarding world; Harry and Ron knew, but muggle relations were still tenuous. None of them believed it would do any good for the wizarding world to know that the brains of the golden trio had obliviated her own parents. If she, the quintessential muggle-born couldn't trust her own parents, how could anyone trust any muggles? It wouldn't matter she had acted out of fear, out of a desire to protect them. The pureblood movement still had teeth, and this was one battle that was better left unfought.
But when it rained, she could let go of those pains. Her love life (or lack thereof), her family's absence, and focus on the good. Her job didn't look exciting, but she was making some astonishing progress with spell research. If all went well, she could become an unspeakable in just a few years, something she could never have done if she'd gotten married and given up her career.
Harry and Ron were both still friends, of course. Every week, every Friday, they made a point of going out to celebrate and catch up. Harry was becoming ever more immersed in politics, and there was talk of him becoming an administrator in the Aurors already. She knew he secretly hated this, but he'd at long last learned to use that power for good. The pureblood movement still had teeth, but it was losing power every day. By the time her children… well, by the time the next generation was grown, they might not even know what blood purism was without reading a history book.
So she sat down in her favorite chair, and let the sound of the rain and the new book she'd brought home with her wash away the unpleasant thoughts. Someday, maybe she'd need to make changes, but contrary to what everyone whispered when they thought she wasn't listening, she was happy. Maybe some things could be better, but she didn't regret her choices. Better living parents than dead, better a relationship ended too soon than one she would come to resent.
She looked out the window near her chair, and enjoyed the sound rain as she dreamt about a future free of the hatred she'd been forced to endure, a future she and Harry and the new Ministry were helping to create every day.
Harry cursed the rain.
What should have been the perfect picnic, in the most perfectly romantic park, had turned into a panicked run for cover.
When she had asked to go home and change, he hadn't been able to find a good enough excuse to deter her, so back to the Burrow they had gone.
There is no such thing as a quick visit to the Burrow. George wanted to talk about his latest projects, Percy wanted to talk about new laws, Ginny had to talk to her mother about the upcoming quidditch season… The list was never-ending.
What had been a perfect brunch became a family lunch, became an afternoon mired in family conversations that Harry could never quite manage to extricate himself from.
As the sky began to change colors, everyone began saying their farewells, and Harry saw his perfect day slipping away. He grabbed Ginny's arm and cut across everyone, "I'm sorry, but there's something I need to talk to Ginny about, we'll be in the garden."
As Harry dragged Ginny outside, he failed to notice the smirks on the faces of everyone he left behind. Once they were outside, Ginny spun to face him.
"What's the big idea? You know I don't like being in the rain! Okay, so your picnic got ruined, but we'll have plenty of other…" Ginny was building up steam, and Harry decided he wasn't going to let her get into a full rant.
"Ginny!" Ginny stopped, shocked. Harry never cut her off. "This wasn't just going to be a picnic, I had a day full of surprises, but I don't bloody care anymore."
"Harry, what are you talking about?"
"Marry me, Ginny." Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Ginny looked down at it, then back at Harry, her face contorting helplessly.
"Marry you? That's your idea of a proposal is it?" She smirked, then grabbed the box. "I suppose I'll have to, then, nobody else would put up with your complete ineptitude when it comes to romance."
"Hey!" Harry yelled. "I'm not that bad."
"Oh really?" Ginny's smirk had become a full-fledged grin. "So our first date after the war didn't end with you being swarmed by fans asking for autographs and me getting knocked in the mud?"
"That wasn't my fault!"
"Or the date after that, where you managed to convince the waitress that I could get anything I wanted, but I shouldn't because I had to watch my figure?"
Harry's face grew red, and he buried his face in his hands. "I was just trying to compliment you, I still don't know how it went so wrong."
"Or the next date, where…"
"Ok, ok, I give up! You're right, I'm horrible at this romance thing!" Harry threw his hands up. Ginny opened the box and looked inside.
"Well, you're not completely hopeless. This is a gorgeous ring, and there's not many red gemstones that would look good on me. You must have looked everywhere to find one the right color." Ginny's smirk had softened, and she smiled at him.
"Well… I actually had to order it custom. Took ages to describe your hair color to the jeweler too." Harry rubbed the back of his head.
"You did well with it. Besides," Her grin turned sultry. "I know something else you're good at too." She pulled Harry in and began to kiss him for all he was worth.
He didn't hear the applause coming from the house for a full 2 minutes after Ginny had finally let him go. He was far too distracted by how beautiful she looked in the setting sun, just starting to break through the clouds.
He really did love the rain.
Luna laughed as she went outside into the rain. Every time it rained, something wonderful happened.
Last time it had rained, her daddy had agreed to start publishing The Quibbler again.
The time before that, she'd celebrated with Neville as he announced that he'd be returning Hogwarts to help Professor Sprout teach, eventually to be her successor.
The day she had been rescued from the Manor, she guessed it had rained at some point during that day as well.
Even back in school, the rain had always been good. Sure, Harry would say there was nothing good about his broom being destroyed by the Whomping Willow or being attacked by dementors, but without that attack would he have had enough incentive to learn his patronus? And his Firebolt, it was one of his most prized possessions, but his old broom had to be destroyed before Sirius could give him a new one.
Harry hadn't completely agreed with her on that one, but she knew he just didn't want to admit she was right.
So as she ran down the path by her house, leading into the nearby woods, she laughed, wondering what wonderful thing the rain might bring her today.
For 30 minutes she ran down the path, enjoying the feel of the rain and the smell of the earth. Eventually, after she had been in the woods without anything particularly unusual happening, she decided that today might just be a particularly enjoyable day, and that she should head back in case whatever was happening was happening back at the Rook.
As she turned, she saw a small brown creature dart across the path. Curious, she darted after it, only to run headlong into a stranger as he burst forth from same brush.
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry miss… I didn't hurt you, did I?" The man was a thin, almost wiry ginger, but his skin was unusually dark for his hair color, almost tan.
Luna shook her head. "Oh, not at all, I was just distracted by that creature that darted across the path."
The man laughed. "Oh, that's just my niffler, bit of a family tradition that. Would you like to help me catch him?"
"A niffler?" Luna tipped her head. "I don't think I have anything shiny enough to attract him, but I can help you chase if you like."
"You know about them then? Well, between the two of us I'm sure we'll catch him in no time at all." The man smiled, and Luna couldn't help but smile back.
"If not, we can always try again tomorrow, right? I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood."
"Pleased to meet you miss, I'm Rolf Scamander."
Luna gasped. "Are you related to Newt Scamander?"
His smile grew wider and he nodded. "My grandfather. 'Fraid I inherited his talent for losing nifflers along with a few other things."
Luna laughed. "Well, how could I possibly refuse to help you now? You'll have to come over and meet my daddy when we're done, we've got so many creatures we've been trying to find for years, perhaps you can finally shed some light on the crumple-horned snorkack?"
Rolf shrugged. "I've not heard of that one, but I'd be happy to help if I can. Shall we?"
"After you." Rolf nodded and took off after the niffler, and Luna grinned.
She loved the rain.
Ron Weasley was bored. He had the day off, and everyone else was busy. Ginny and Harry had run off for a picnic, Hermione was curled up at home again… maybe he'd go down to the Three Broomsticks and have himself a drink.
He opened the door to the Burrow, and saw that it was raining.
He shrugged and grabbed a nearby umbrella before stepping outside to head down to Hogsmeade.
He didn't particularly care about the rain, he just wanted a good drink.