Hello everyone! Well, I've finally done it; I've written a story that's not a songfic/collective gasp/ However, I was inspired by a song. It's the same as the title, and it's by Kenny Chesney. But, since the fic doesn't really go with the song, it's not based on it, mkay? Oh, and Ron and Hermione are dating, and they just graduated from Hogwarts.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own HP; I own the plot. And, I would like to take this opportunity to thank J.K. Rowling for creating her characters and allowing me to put them into such sappy situations that it should be illegal.
Oh, another quick note: PLEASE do not review and say that the characters are "ridiculously OOC" or that "they would never act that way", or any other crap like that. In case you didn't notice, this is FAN FICTION; it doesn't have to follow along with the books. If you want something like that, I'm sad to inform you that you are in entirely the wrong place. Anyway, enjoy the story, and don't forget to review! It makes me all tingly inside/grins/
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The pitter-patter of the light summer rain could be heard reverberating throughout the Burrow. Hermione was sitting in an armchair near the fireplace, almost completely absorbed in one of her Transfiguration textbooks. She needed to maintain what she knew about the subject, since Professor McGonagall had all but told her that she wanted her to take over the post in a couple of years.
The house was unusually quiet, and Hermione was taking advantage of it. After all, it wasn't often that all nine of the Weasleys (plus Harry) were out of the house.
Eight, she reminded herself sadly.
The loss of Charlie Weasley three months prior still weighed heavy on everyone's minds. Sure, lots of people had been lost; Seamus, Colin, Parvati and Padma Patil, Madam Hooch, Professor Snape…but losing Charlie had hit everyone the hardest.
Especially Ron.
But he hid it well. Absorbing himself in chess (he still beat whoever he came across who challenged him), joking with Harry, Fred and George. He had even signed with the Chudley Cannons as a keeper. And yet, no matter how well he disguised his true emotions, Hermione knew. Oh, did she know.
His laughter, once filled with so much life, was an empty echo. The infamous crooked smile that used to brighten up her day was now fake and never reached his eyes, those baby blue orbs that hadn't held their old sparkle since that fateful day in mid-April.
The bottom line? She was worried about him.
She missed the old Ron that used to look at her with such love that it made her weak in the knees, who used to kiss her with such fiery passion that she felt as though she might faint. The one who had gotten almost as many detentions as the twins. The Ron she had known for seven long, wonderful years, and had slowly fallen in love with.
Putting her book down, she went into the kitchen to get a cup of tea. After pouring the steaming liquid into a mug, she brought it to her light pink lips, blew on it gently, and took a small sip. Looking out the window, she saw someone standing on the porch.
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Shutting the screen door quietly, she turned toward him. His face was lifted upward slightly, eyes closed, taking in the warm summer air and the soothing feeling of raindrops on his face. His brilliant red hair, which had darkened slightly over the years, was dripping wet, as was the rest of him, causing his light gray t-shirt to stick to his broad chest and shoulders. Suppressing a shudder, she kept walking to him. Without saying a word, she held out the cup of tea that she had fixed for him. He took it, his callused hand brushing her smaller delicate one. Propping herself on the rail next to him, she looked out at the meadow.
"I love summer storms," she said quietly, and he nodded in agreement, taking another sip of his tea. They stood in silence for about fifteen minutes, the only sounds being Ron drinking tea and the soft drum of rain around them.
All of a sudden, Hermione took Ron's free hand and murmured, "Come with me," in his ear, sending a slight shiver down his spine; the most emotion he had shown in three months. He set his nearly empty mug on the railing and followed her off of the porch and into the yard.
After they had walked a little ways through the pouring rain, she let go of his hand and lifted her head toward the sky, her chocolate brown eyes closed, water splashing on her face. "You know," she said softly after five minutes, causing Ron to look at her, "There's something sexy about the rain…" And with that, she raised her arms from her sides and spun around in circles.
"It feels like kisses on my skin…"
Ron stood there and just stared at her, his mouth halfway open. As he watched her, he realized what she had said was true; there was something sexy about the rain. He had just never known it until now, watching the love of his life spinning in circles underneath the dark clouds, her normally thick hair sticking to the sides of her oval-shaped face, clothes clinging to her petite body, and a look of utter contentment on her face.
Still spinning, Hermione didn't notice him walk over to her. So she was quite surprised when she opened her eyes to find him standing there in front of her. He still looked so broken, but it seemed that he was slowly recovering from his family's tragic loss. She closed the distance between them slowly, and when he held out his arms to her, she stepped up to him, her 5' 4" frame dwarfed by his tall, lean 6' 3" body. As he enclosed his strong arms around her, she laid her head on his damp chest.
"I've missed you," said her muffled voice. He stepped back slightly, looking into her eyes. "I know..." he said quietly, lowering his face to hers, feeling for the first time in weeks that everything in the world was right.
And as he kissed her with that fiery passion in the pouring rain, Hermione only had one clear thought.
He's back.-
YAY! I've SO wanted to write a fic about rain! Heehee…I had tons of fun writing that, so tell me what you think! Remember, all authors love reviews, so it's the best gift you can give me! Please/smiles sweetly/