Chapter 14: Rain, Rain Go Away Part I

Hermione was surprised. Actually, surprised might be an understatement because she was along the lines of shell-shocked.

"They what!" Hermione hissed the day after Harry had cornered Ron.

Ron was still shaken, even days later. It was a shock that Harry and Ginny knew about his and Hermione's relationship, they had been so careful, only showing affection for each other in complete and total privacy; except for that one incident at the dinner table. It had been hard for him to keep a strait face through out Hermione's exploration, in which she used her foot. But it had all been in vain, his sister had seen them anyway and then had told Harry, which then resulted in the most embarrassing conversation of Ron's life. But then he soon discovered it could get much worse, when he told Hermione that Harry and Ginny knew about them. Later that would be a conversation Ron would wish he could wipe from his memory.

Ron winced dramatically at Hermione's horrified expression. "What was I supposed to do, deny it? Ginny saw us; I couldn't lie."

"Of course you didn't have to lie but… I just don't want anyone finding out. And now that Harry and Ginny know, everyone else is going to find out, including your mother. She's going to find out, and there will be embarrassing questions, and she will ask us if we're getting married, and we'll have to say no! She'll be disappointed and your mum will be mad at me."

Ron blinked in surprise. "Why in the world would she be mad at you? She'll be mad at me."

"You don't understand! I'm the woman who's sleeping with her little boy!"

"Uh…."

Hermione sighed in frustration.

It had gone on from there, but much to Ron's relief Hermione calmed down fairly quickly. At least neither his girlfriend or Harry had been mad at him but he hadn't thought of his sister being angry. She'd scolded and punched him in the arm, (Ginny was surprisingly strong for such a petite person), for not telling her about what she called the "happy news." Apparently everyone thought that Ron and Hermione were just perfect for each other; when he had talked to Hermione about this on the trail, he received an answer he did not expect.

"Well, I knew that Ginny thought it was a good idea."

Ron gawked at her for a moment before answering. "What do you mean? Wait a minute! Did you talk to my sister about…us?"

"Of course I did Ron, but that was before we ever went into hiding. Who was I supposed to talk to about how much you annoyed me because you refused to notice me," Hermione answered.

"I thought that you didn't want to notice me!"

"That just shows how blind we were as children."

"Are you telling me, if I had just asked you for a date years ago, you would have accepted?" Ron asked incredulously, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Of course. But I thought you already knew this, we talked about it. Remember?"

"I knew that, but… when you told me you fancied me for awhile, I thought you meant when we were out of Hogwarts, not when we were still in school."

Hermione sighed. "Apparently you're still blind."

While Hermione's last comment had stung, Ron didn't dwell on it for long. After all they had places to go, people to see. The group also became more and more cautious as they neared muggle civilization. More fears also began to rise as it began to rain, a steady downpour that they had been dreading. The group had been lucky when it had come to the weather, most of Britain had been witnessing below average rainfall, and now it seemed mother earth was making up for it. It rained for two days straight, from day till night. Even the most powerful water-repellent charm couldn't keep the group from becoming soaked. The ground became muddy and slick with rain, the temperature dropped an unnatural 20 degrees, and the wind gusted; these conditions made traveling hard, often times impossible, and they began to fall behind schedule. So each day, instead of becoming closer to their destination, they seemed to get farther away from Leominster. It was becoming desperate.

"What do we do?"

The question was finally broached by Tonks; they had all wanted to ask but they were afraid of the answer. Turn back? Out of the question. Head in a different direction and not go to Leominster? A waste of time, all of them said.

"Look, we cannot travel in the rain anymore; I say we stop somewhere," Emmiline Vance said, looking hopeful.

"Where would we stop, Vance?" Moody growled, one eye focused forward and his magical eye in the back of his head.

"A very good question," Harry added, immediately agreeing with Moody.

Emmiline scowled at Moody and especially at Harry. "Well, I've seen several muggle inns along the road. Perhaps we ought to stop at one of those."

"An inn!" everyone exclaimed, shocked.

"Yes, an inn."

"Well, she does have a point…" Hermione muttered. "We are all very tired and with this rain it's only a matter of time before one of us becomes ill. Perhaps it is a good idea to stop for some rest, for a single night or maybe more. And with the time we're making, it being so bad and all, I don't think it would hurt to stop."

"It's risky. What if we let something slip and we're caught?" Mrs. Weasley worried.

"Mum, Hermione's right, one of us is bound to get sick, or come down with something if we each don't get a warm bed to sleep in for the night, and maybe even a warm meal," Ron pointed out, his boots slopping in the mud and muck as he shifted from one foot to the other.

Hermione gave him a small smile of thanks, Ron winked in return. Ron frowned when he found his sister snickering at them; Ginny saw his frown and gave an apologetic shrug.

"They're all good points, but the question comes down to one simple thing: can we afford to risk it?" Remus asked, looking from one face to the other.

Ms. Vance scowled. "What in hell's name is the chance that there would be a Death Eater staying at a muggle inn? I say we do it."

"Emmiline there is always a chance, and with You-Know-Who focusing so much of his power on the muggles, I would say that the chance is getting greater," McGonagall argued.

They argued back and forth for the rest of that day, before they decided on a course of action--they would stop at the first inn they came across.

Elizabeth Evans had always been one of those small town girls. Through much of her life she had stayed and had been firmly routed in her small English village, which had remained relatively untouched; except for the billionaires that vacationed on the outskirts of town. But then she started to work at her family's inn and pub, where she had the chance to meet new and interesting people. She was also able to have a few whirlwind romances in the process. There was one, years later, she would never forget.

The only word she could think to call the man that captured her heart for those few short days was, suspicious. Henry Leery had come into town to stay for a few nights at the inn, with a large group of University students out on some walk for the environment. A real sweet talker, very suave and at the same time really cute in a boyish sort of way. The thing that Elizabeth remembers best about him was his eyes. They were the color of amber or maybe of smoky quarts, they had flecks of light green in them--she would always remember his eyes.

She remembered, very vividly, the first she saw him in the pub…

"Hey, Girl! We have customers, so get off of your arse and come serve the ladies and gents some drinks."

Elizabeth sighed and looked over her shoulder at Frank. "Can't you see I'm busy? Oh and by the way, you would think that since my family owns this pub, you would be a little bit nicer to me."

Frank scowled at her and ignored what she had said. "You can finish those later," he pointed at the dishes that she had been washing, "now, come on. There is a whole group of them."

She cursed dramatically, pulled off her rubber gloves, and pushed through the swinging doors that connected the kitchen to the rest of the pub. Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks at the sudden crowd that had developed in the pub (they had been slow with barely any customers for the last week because of the rain, so it was a surprise to see so many people). She approached the first person at the bar, pulled out her little writing pad and her pen.

"So, what can I get for you?" she asked.

"Err… well, I uh…"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the man's confusion.

The man sitting next to the other guy quickly stepped in for his friend. "Sorry he doesn't get out much. It's all going to be one large order, 15 fish and chips and uh…"

"And 15 glasses of water," a blond-haired woman that had come in with the large group interrupted.

There was some grumbling about this but Elizabeth tried to ignore them, except she couldn't and caught most of their argument. It seemed to consist around the fact that the men in the group wanted a mead, beer, or a whisky but the women said no. After just a minute, or so, of argumentation a decision was made, the ladies won and no alcoholic drinks were ordered. Except for one. After the other members of the group had gone up to their rooms for the night, one lagged behind and ordered a large mead… Henry.

She spent much of that night talking to him, becoming memorized in his well-told jokes and witty humor. Not only was he funny, but also extremely attractive, with his rugged good looks and amazing eyes. It wasn't as if she was talked into sleeping with him, instead it was definitely a 50-50 thing; she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It was spur of the moment. One minute they were talking (and joking) and the next minute they were both in her small flat, snogging passionately toward her bedroom.

Elizabeth didn't know though that he wasn't who he had said he was. Henry Leery wasn't even close to being the real him. It had all been a facade, one that he had pulled off well; without any hitches. He hadn't wanted to lie, but telling her who he really was? Unthinkable, not to mention laughable.

Hermione had missed a comfortable bed more than she had realized. It had been lovely to climb into a soft, warm bed and just drift off to sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that it would not rain over them in the night. A hot shower had also done wonders, and had made Hermione wonder that if a shower had felt so good, what would a long soak in tub feel like?

Since she was the last one ready (Tonks, Andrea, Ginny, and Emmiline had shared a room together and had gone down to breakfast before her), Ron had the perfect chance to surprise her. She was in the shower and almost finished when she heard a sudden sound.

Thinking it was Ginny (Hermione had seen her forgotten purse and wondered if the red-head had come back to retrieve it) she called out, "Ginny, is that you?"

Hermione didn't get an answer. "Tonks?" No answer again.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, who is it?"

"Who do you want it to be?" a husky voice whispered in her ear as a pair of hands covered her eyes.

Hermione jumped in surprise but quickly recovered her footing.

"Ron, you scared the… the… well you scared me. What are you doing? Anyone can walk in," Hermione hissed, trying to turn around but was stopped by Ron's body pressing into her back.

Ron laughed in his rather annoying way of his, like he knew something she didn't know. "Guess."

Well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was poking her in the lower back, but she decided to humor him for the fun of it.

"I can't possibly imagine. Maybe you ran out of soap and came to get some? Or maybe you need someone to wash your back?"

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny Hermione. Guess again."

Hermione groaned in slight frustration. "We can not do it here. We'll be caught!" she admonished, clutching his hands that had come down from her eyes to her middle, hugging her from behind.

"No we won't, I used a imperturbable charm on the door and I silencio'ed the room, so there is absolutely nothing to worry about. Have I mentioned how good you look wet?" Ron asked mischievously, sweeping her wet hair away from her neck, and kissing the revealed skin.

"Ron… We can't," Hermione tried again, quickly losing her resolve as she turned her neck so that Ron had a more direct route to that area.

"Hermione, you know you can't resist my devilishly good looks," Ron teased with a chuckle that he tried to hide by burying his face into her neck.

Hermione crumbled (let's face it, it was inevitable). "Well, alright," she said.

"I knew you would give in," Ron said in a mock-smug sort of way, turning her around so that they were facing each other.

Hermione smiled up at him and put a hand up to his freckled cheek. She liked him this way, his normal "Ron Weasley" self, not the fake brown haired and brown eyed version. Hermione put her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, with the water continuing to cascade down; Ron leaned down and they kissed. It turned out to be a very nice shower, for the both of them.

Meanwhile…

"Hey! Has anybody seen Ron or George?" Ginny asked sitting down beside Tonks (the disguised version) and taking a breakfast role from the platter in the middle of the table.

Hassan swallowed and took another fork-full of eggs. "No I haven't seen them all morning, or last night."

"You know… That's peculiar, I didn't fall asleep right away, and about when I was just beginning to dose off, I saw George come in. It was rather late though, maybe it was Ron," Remus put in, slathering marmalade on some toast.

The young and blond-haired version of Mrs. Weasley started and looked up from her newspaper. "Yes, but where was the other? Oh no, I hope he's alright."

"I'm sure he's fine, which ever boy it was. They both probably just stayed up late for a drink and the other one got in later than the other," the equally young version of Mr. Weasley pointed out, trying to reassure his worried wife.

Mrs. Weasley's cheeks reddened in anger, "I told them both that there would be no alcohol!"

Mr. Weasley realized his mistake and quickly tried to correct it. While Mr. And Mrs. Weasley squabbled, their only daughter made another mistake, much like the one her father had just made. She thought aloud.

"I wonder if Hermione would know where Ron is?"

"Why would Hermione know where Ron might be?" her mother asked, her attention caught.

Ginny mentally slapped herself across the head and cursed silently. "Damn, a slip of the tongue. If mum finds out about Ron and Hermione they're both going to end up as corned beef."

"Err… Well, I just wondered if maybe she had seen him in the halls, you know, in passing," Ginny lied quickly, coming up with a relatively good story fast.

Mrs. Weasley accepted the answer and turned again to her husband. Ginny looked toward Harry's way and smiled, sweeping her hand across her forehead, pretending to swipe the sweat off, as if she had just missed a close call. Harry winked back. Then, suddenly, Mad-Eye stilled and stopped eating. Some how alerted, Ginny looked at the man (a younger, unscarred version, and with out the magical eye) and caught him grinning from ear to ear, his eyes going back and forth between Harry and Ginny.

"Oh shit! What did he just see? Did he just see Harry wink at me? Or maybe he has figured out I lied about Ron and Hermione? Oh shit! I'm dead either way," Ginny worried in her head.

Moody chuckled softly and turned back to his nearly empty plate.

"What's so funny?" Tonks asked him, catching his chuckle.

Moody looked up and grinned, again, looking every bit as crazy and weird as he really was. "Oh, just thinking." The man's eyes flickered back to Ginny and when they flickered back to his plate, she looked at Harry. His eyebrows were raised and he was looking at Moody and then he looked at Ginny.

"Thinking? Right…" Tonks said skeptically, looking at Moody as if he had just lost his head (literally) and had spurted chicken feathers.

Then, Ginny was saved more embarrassment when Ron suddenly made his appearance as he practically bounded down the stairs, entering the small pub. His cheeks were red and he had a goofy grin plastered all over his face.

"Good morning!" Ron greeted joyfully, taking his seat, and immediately began to load a plate full of food.

"Good morning dear, how did you sleep?" Mrs. Weasley asked, passing her son some assorted jams and jellies.

Ron took them with a grateful smile and replied, "fine mum, how 'bout you?"

"Marvelously, actually. Ron when did you go to bed last night?"

Ron looked up suddenly at his mother and gulped. "Twelve o'clock or something like that. I stayed up late talking to Frank, the bartender."

Mrs. Weasley looked strait into Ron's eye and analyzed him as if she was an interrogator. Ron felt like he had an insanely bright light shining down on him, or maybe a constant drip of water coming down on his forehead. Mrs. Weasley must have concluded that her youngest son was telling the truth because she cracked a smile.

"Tell me, what did the two of you talk about?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Well there was this really weird muggle sport on the televirsion," Ron pronounced incorrectly, "called rugby. It was wicked."

Mr. Weasley's eyes bugged and he looked earnestly at Ron. "Muggle sport you say?"

"Yeah Dad, you should have been there," Ron answered.

Soon, Ginny tuned out Ron and Mr. Weasley's conversation about ruby and went back to her own thoughts. So that explains why I haven't seen Ron, and come to think of it, why Hermione is so late; she should have been down ages ago. Ginny laughed in her head over Ron's funny, albeit disgusting, activities with her best friend, as her questions were answered. Ten minutes later Hermione made her quiet, well-timed entrance after Ron.

"Morning all," Hermione greeted, avoiding looking directly at Ginny, Ron, and Harry.

Ginny then realized that all but one of their group was present… George still wasn't there. She had forgotten, for just a moment that George still wasn't accounted for. Where could he be? The other question was answered just a short minute later when George walked in, but not down the stairs, instead he walked into the pub through the front door.

"Where have you been!"

George halted and realized that his mother was practically glaring at him.

"Err… I went out for an early morning stroll," George replied quickly.

Ginny, unlike her mother, realized with a jolt that George was wearing the same clothes that he had had on yesterday. "Well, well this is very curious. What has my brother been doing?"

A few hours before…

Sun light filtered in through the drapes in the bedroom, illuminating the bed and its one occupant. The storm had lessened and had allowed the sun to peak through. The bedroom was scantly furnished, with just a bed, (and of course the bedding), a few hanging pictures on the walls that showed scenes of the English countryside, a bedside table, and a single chair near the closet. There were two doors in the small bedroom, (not counting the closet doors), one which led to the living room and the other to a connected bathroom. The walls were painted a boring taupe and the trim in the room was painted a lighter cream color and carpet was a standard tan.

The bed's occupant shifted and awoke with a yawn and stretch. A tousled head poked its way out of the covers and with amber colored eyes, looked about. The man sat up, the covers falling down to reveal a bare chest. Realizing that his bedmate was in the shower and certainly not laying next to him, he rose out of the bed--completely naked. He walked, nonchalantly, towards the bathroom door and cracked it open, peaking inside; steam billowed out from the crack.

The shower stopped and the man heard a shower curtain being opened and towel retrieved from the towel bar.

"Henry is that you?" a woman's voice from inside the bathroom called out.

The man, obviously Henry, grinned and opened the door wider. Revealed to him was the arousing sight of an almost naked woman wrapped in a towel.

"Yeah, it's me," Henry answered, leaning against the doorjamb and taking her in with his eyes. "You look good enough to eat and, come to think of it, you certainly don't look shagged enough. From last night's round I would have figured that you would look thoroughly shagged."

The woman laughed, walked up to him, and pressed herself up against him, she dropped the towel and it was just skin against skin. She reached up and ran her long fingers through his brown hair, letting each soft strand fall through her fingers.

"I think that can be remedied."

To be continued…

A/N: I know, I know the end may seem a little wonky but this chapter was getting so long that I had to stop somewhere and I picked here. But there is good news (I sound likeone of thoseGiecho (sp?) commercials), because of the fact that this chapter and the next are just going to continuous with eachother, that means that chapter 15 will bewritten faster then the norm.So, expect the next chapter to be out in under two weeks.

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers and my beta! Oh, and Happy Halloween!