The darkened leaves glistened in the rain, reflecting the soft light of the moon as if in tribute – a vain attempt to attain some paled imitation of its serenity. Freshness clung to the air, still slightly charged with the wildness of thunder and lightning now passed. In daylight the gentle falling of rain would have cast a rainbow across the clouded sky, but the night lent it gravity, calming its vibrant and boisterous tendencies.
Hermione had always revelled in the quiet that dwelt beneath the stars, and rather than cursing the rain's intrusion she embraced it as a welcome visitor. In face she loved the rain – the deliberate and steady patter, the way it veiled the other sounds around her, the rich fullness it whispered into the air.
She rested her head against the coarse rope of the swing upon which she sat. Her eyes fell lightly shut, her other senses set free into the world around her.
She heard a familiar gait crossing beneath the tree's cover; felt familiar lips place a kiss on her wet shoulder, followed by familiar arms that wrapped comfortably around her. A smile spread across her face. "Hey, Harry," she whispered.
"What're you thinking about?" She loved the grin in his voice that told her he adored her every quirk.
"Hmm," she replied softly, "How beautiful and precious life is."
"It most certainly is." She knew his mind flitted briefly over the people they'd lost so many years ago, but she also knew that it then rested warmly on the present; on their present.
He walked around the swing and took her hand in his. "C'mon inside to bed?" his eyes implored her. She happily obliged, stepping with him into the rain.
"Love you, Mione."
She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. "Love you, too, Harry."