A Walk in the Rain
She knew she had made a mistake, dating that Weasley, when he asked her if she wanted to take a short walk around the castle. Only a madman would want to stroll grounds in the middle of an April rainstorm as the trees thrashed in the wind, and only a madman would request that she not wear a cloak on top of that – but perhaps it took a madwoman of equal caliber to agree to such a proposal. That's what Fred's done to you, her dorm mates said skeptically as she slipped out of the Gryffindor common room.
It was cold for an April, and Angelina felt it on her skin as the rain drenched through her robes and Fred led her along the snaking path that encircled Hogwarts. Lightning flashed towards the ground, forking off towards the Forbidden Forest, instantly followed by a boom of thunder so pervading that she felt the earth below her shake.
"Why the devil are we out here?" she yelled over the cacophony of the raindrops.
He grinned at her. "Can't you see it?"
"The only thing I'm seeing, Fred Weasley, is that I'm getting more and more soaked by the minute."
"Oh, my girlfriend is blind, my girlfriend is blind!" he teased, a sing-songy lilt in his voice.
He took her hands in his and pulled her close. In spite of herself, Angelina giggled as he twirled her around, a novice ballerina on a stage of mud. "Fred, what're you up to now?"
"Just look. Isn't it beautiful?"
He opened his arms and beheld the wide arc of the sky. Angelina looked: the soft contours of the clouds, the sheets of rain, almost horizontal against the Scottish hills, and his beaming, starry-eyed face. And she understood.