Disclaimer: I own nothing. Actually, I would own the plot, but as you'll soon see, that part of the story is strangely absent. Ho hum.

A/N: This chapter is somewhat pathetic... I wrote it quite a while ago, and was debating putting it up or not, but since I'm feeling guilty for not updating this or "Pains of Having a Conscience," I decided I'd try it. For some reason my writing feels like it's been going downhill instead of up lately, lol. Perhaps it's one of those "Has to get worse before it gets better" things. Also, this is something of a cliche, since there are so many 'rainy' stories out there, most of them better than mine. (See "Rainy Wedding" by On-A-Rainy-Day). Ah well. Review, please. Even if it's a flame. (You know I'm desperate now, lol.)

The sky was turning a cloudy gray, and students who had earlier been basking in the few solitary rays of sunlight were now filtering in to their common rooms, laughing and pushing playfully at each other as they slid into chairs around the fire. Even the fireplace seemed to realize the change in weather, as a bright, cheerful flame lighted itself in the neglected hearth. Only one student didn't seem to be enjoying himself, and it wasn't hard to guess whom. Ginny frowned at him, but he didn't seem to notice as he stared listlessly.

"Ron, Hermione, I'm going on a walk, will you come with me?" Ginny asked pleadingly.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny, I have to finish this essay. Why don't you ask Harry?" Hermione said absentmindedly, flipping through her book.

"I was planning on it, but he's a whole lot more likely to stop moping long enough to accept if the two of you are going. If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly high on the list of the most influential people in his life," Ginny said, a bit bitterly. For some reason she had thought that, since she had actually put a stop, for the most part, on her crush on Harry, he would start treating her more like a friend. Instead, it had been getting worse. All he ever did when she talked to him now was mumble something indecipherable and look down at the floor. Honestly, the way he acted you would think she didn't exist.

Ron made a funny strangled noise in the back of his throat, which he seemed to have a habit of using when he was hiding something, and coughed to cover it up.

"I'm sorry Ron, are you catching a cold, or did you want to say something to me?"

"Ron didn't want to say anything, did you?" Hermione gave him a sharp glance, and Ron nodded. Ginny made a mental note to have a long talk with Hermione later.

"Fine then, thanks for your support. I'll go by myself with Harry." Ginny said, feeling another surge of annoyance.

"Alone with Harry? Bit of an oxymoron, that," Ron said. Ginny rolled her eyes and walked away, not even bothering to respond to the stupid comment. Let Hermione deal with him.

"Harry, earth to Harry, come in Potter."

"Hmm?" He snapped out of his reverie, bringing into focus two brown eyes, their brows furrowed in annoyance.

"I take it you haven't heard anything I've said in the last five minutes?"

"No," Harry said, looking at the floor again.

"Hmm. Okay. I'll ask you again. Do you want to go on a walk with me?"

Harry hesitated, looking as if he was having an inner conflict with his self, before muttering, "I've got some--"

"And don't give me that 'I've got some things that I have to get done,' speech in that pitiful, the-whole-world-is-against-me voice. If you don't want to go, just tell me.

Harry flushed. He was just about to say those exact words, and he suddenly felt extremely embarrassed and painfully immature, as though he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. He attempted to salvage his sentence.

"That wasn't what I was going to say." Ginny gave him a doubtful look. "What I was going to say was, I've got some things I ought to be doing, but I would much rather go on a walk with you. Are Ron and Hermione going?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay," he said lamely, trying to conceal his thoughts. Ginny was going on a walk. Harry was going with her. Nobody else was coming with Harry and Ginny on this walk. Despite himself, the thought felt warm in his hollow stomach.

"Well, are you coming?"

Harry jumped tensely out of his chair and followed her. He had just observed the way she walked, as she crossed the room to the door. She moved gracefully, almost cat-like, stepping with almost all of her weight on the balls of her feet and pointing her toes delicately. It was strange, he thought, staring at her as he elicited a few more snickers from those who had already noticed them leaving together, that she had just started walking like that now. Or perhaps he'd just never thought to look before.

They stepped into the Great Hall, and were just about to go outside when Harry pointed up. "It's raining," he said, indicated the stormy ceiling. Ginny nodded.

"So it is".

"Do you still want to take a walk?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

Harry decided that it would be more than a bit stupid to say "Because it's raining," so he closed his mouth.

There were a few minutes of silence before Ginny spoke again. "You know, I knew a girl who had a crush on you."

"Really?" Harry asked, somewhat interested although he had no idea why she was bringing this up.

"Yes. She doesn't anymore though, you know why?"

"No idea. Have I become any more daft or ugly over the summer?" A rather pitiful attempt at humor.

"No, Harry, it's because she's decided you're too dark for her. She used to love watching you smile but now all you do is brood. I bet you can't even remember the last time you laughed like you meant it. She needs someone who isn't afraid to have fun, who isn't scared to love, or do something out of the ordinary to be happy. You have no variety in your moods at all. Becomes quite boring to watch all the time, I expect," Ginny said conversationally.

"Oh." Harry didn't know how to respond to this. The conversation came to a sudden halt as they stepped outside. The rain was pouring in thick, heavy torrents, each raindrop hitting the ground with the tiniest splash. He turned to glance at Ginny, who, to his surprise, was grinning happily. He couldn't imagine why.

"Oh, come on Harry, you can't always be such a pessimist." She was now peeling off her shoes and socks, revealing shimmering pink polish, which twinkled with a million tiny stars. He stared, mesmerized for a second before glancing back up. She smiled again.

"I know you can't stare at my feet all afternoon," she teased. "Are you coming or not? We can race."

With that, she sped across Hogwarts lawn, her long hair flying behind her. Harry shook his head mentally, but dashed after her, putting his years of running from bullies into use. She was fast, much faster than he had expected for somebody with her tiny form, but he reminded himself that he had been the same way.

They finished running the length of the castle at the same time, and Ginny collapsed giggling on the wet grass. Harry stayed standing and pulled off his soggy, waterlogged sneakers and socks. At least, he was standing until Ginny grabbed him by the ankles so he fell on his bottom with a noisy grunt of surprise.

"What'd I ever do to you?" he asked weakly as his robes grew even wetter from the ground.

"You were a bit dry for my taste," Ginny said. She laughed and rolled down the hill, a blur of color through the pounding rain. Harry was about to shake his head and walk down after her, but something she'd said earlier stopped him. She needs someone who isn't afraid to have fun, who isn't scared to love, or do something out of the ordinary to be happy. It wasn't quite true, he thought to himself. He had fun, he had fun doing Quidditch... that was something he loved to do...

Anything else? He probed into his mind. He liked being with Ron and Hermione-- but no, Ginny was right. He couldn't remember the last time he had been truly glad, the way Ginny was almost all the time. Bracing himself, he crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and began to roll. The grass smelled sweet and fresh, and the rain fell harder than ever as he gathered speed. When he got to the bottom he stood up, swaying as he tried to see through his glasses, which by now were sprinkled with droplets of water and flecks of grass.

"Ginny," he called suddenly, thinking back. She turned around and looked at him inquisitively.

"Do I know the girl?"

She looked as though she had been expecting the question. "Yes, for the most part."

"Do you reckon she'll give me a chance to know her better? If I show her that I can act different?" Harry wasn't sure why he was asking this... what was he hoping to accomplish, except to make a fool out of himself?

Ginny looked at him thoughtfully though, considering for a few moments before responding. "I think she'll take my word for it that you already have," she said quietly. Her fiery hair was clinging to her head now, and a drop of water was steadily making its way from her forehead to the tip of her freckled nose. As if by a mutual agreement, she pulled off his glasses with her index and middle finger and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry twirled a strand of her sopping hair around his hand as the other nervously circled her waist... and suddenly they were much nearer than a few seconds ago...

Something changed about Harry that night. Yes, he still had three essays he hadn't started on, he still missed Sirius, and he still knew that he would have to either murder or be murdered by the most feared wizard in history

But he was happy. And for the moment, that was quite enough for him.

"Well?" Ron asked finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?

"Wet," he said truthfully.

-Order of the Phoenix, Page 458, American Edition