Author's Note: Woo…without giving away any spoilers…I heart book 6! I figured I'd better get this out quickly, so I could start up some book 6 related fanfic ;D My apologies for misspellings, I do spell check, but that doesn't help on the Potter terms ;) Also, I've forgotten Hermione's parents names (if I ever knew them) so I just made some up ;)

The Rain

The two had been silent all the way to the door to the grounds. The Marauder's Map had showed Hermione running out there for quite some distance and finally stopping somewhere near the lake.

"You go on," Harry said, folding up the Marauder's Map and giving it to Ron. "I'll wait here."

"What do you mean you'll wait here?" Ron asked scandalously. "You've got to come Harry…I mean, you know what it's like to have...that happen."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Ron, it's my fault her parents are dead. I'm probably the last person she wants to see right now."

"Harry-" Ron started sympathetically.

"Look, it doesn't matter. You should just go find her, make sure she's alright…let her know I'm sorry." He only wished he could tell her that himself.

Ron nodded, tucking the piece of paper into his cloak. He wasn't looking forward to going out into the pouring rain and trying (probably unsuccessfully) to comfort his friend, but he knew he had to.

The moment the rain hit his face, he wondered if he should turn back. After all, there was no telling what Hermione might do to him in the state she was in, and he was horribly frightened that he might make things even worse. He had been called an "insensitive git" on more then one occasion, and he was the first to admit that was true. He had no idea what he could possibly say to his friend about something like this.

Still, the thought of Hermione crying alone somewhere out in the rain kept him going. Maybe he did have the 'emotional range of a teaspoon' but, he still cared very deeply about his friend. He wasn't going to let her be alone at a time like this. He whispered a quick spell to repel at least some of the rain, and continued on.

With the help of the Marauder's Map, it wasn't long before he found her.

"Hermione," he yelled as the rain fell down around the both of them. She looked up at him with red eyes. He knew it would have taken her no effort at all to cast a spell to keep herself dry, but for some reason, she hadn't. She was soaked to the bone, rain running down every inch of her body.

"You're soaking wet!" he said, trying to get his voice heard over the rain.

"I don't care," she said softly. Her whispered words blew in out of the wind, whistling through Ron's ears.

Ron may not have known a lot about feelings, but he did know a lot about being cold. It was freezing enough as it was, and probably 20 degrees colder if you were wet. "Impervus!" he shouted gently. A shield surrounded them both, protecting them from the world and from the rain, which slid helplessly down the sides.

Ron searched for something to say. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Hermione," he fumbled.

"Sorry won't bring them back," she breathed, tears flowing down her cheeks. She avoided Ron's gaze.

"No," he agreed quietly. Nervously, he sat down beside her. "I guess it won't."

Another silence allowed Ron the time it took to gather the courage to wrap his arm around his friend. The touch brought a strange snorting sound from Hermione as she attempted to suppress her tears, but that was simply asking too much. She snuggled closer to her friend, nestling her head in his chest, and started crying once again.

"I'm an orphan now, Ron…I'm an orphan," she cried, burying herself deeper into him, and sending a chill up his spine. She couldn't believe that in a matter of minutes, she had went from having two loving parents, to having no family at all. "I'm all alone."

"No, Hermione," Ron cooed, awkwardly stroking her wet hair. "We're your family now. We'll take care of you. Harry, he'd be here too, except…he wanted to apologize…for what happened."

"Oh Ron," she whimpered, giving him a tight squeeze. He really thought it was as easy as that, like all she was upset about was being alone. That wasn't even the half of it. "It's not Harry's fault. It's my fault. It's my fault they're dead."

"What? Hermi-" Ron started with noted confusion.

"They were Muggles Ron; they were innocent. They could have lived out their lives in peace if it hadn't been for me. I brought them into this world, and it killed them," she began crying once again. "If it wasn't for me…they'd still be alive."

"That's not true," Ron asserted reverently. "You didn't choose to be a witch, Hermione. You were born that way…it…it's not your fault." He winced, hating to refer to magic like some kind of curse, but wanting her to feel better all the same.

"No Ron, it is," she moaned softly, knowingly. "…they…they knew it was getting dangerous. Back in fourth year…they asked me to leave the wizarding world…told me they'd spoken to my old headmistress, had it all arranged so I could go back to the way things were without any trouble…but I told them no," her voice cracked involuntarily, tears falling silently down her cheeks. "I told them no…I said…I said, 'I have to try and help'…and what good did it do? I didn't…I never thought...that they would get hurt."

As Hermione broke into tears once again, Ron could only stare. The tall redhead had always had an unspoken curiosity about why his friend had been placed in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. After all, Hermione was, unarguably, the most brilliant witch in the whole school, and Ravenclaw was the house that treasured intelligence. He had always assumed that the Sorting Hat made some kind of mistake, giving Gryffindor a lucky break. Now, as he sat in the middle of the pouring rain, looking at the crumpled girl, who had refused a chance at safety and given up everything in order to fight a war that wasn't even hers, he knew the Sorting Hat had been right all along. It had seen something Ron had not, because as brilliant as Hermione was…she was even more courageous.

"Hermione, without your help, Voldemort would have probably already been strong enough to start slaughtering Muggles as well as wizards. No one is innocent in his eyes. If you had left…your parents still may have died…" Ron tried.

Hermione didn't look convinced, digging her hands deeper into his sweater and whispering, "At least I would have had more time."

Realizing that no amount of logic would heal Hermione's guilt, Ron moved on to something else. "If you want to leave now…no one would think any less of you…"

"Leave?" she sniffled, looking up at him. "Leave? Ron, you and Harry are all I have now. I wouldn't…I couldn't leave you. Besides, Voldemort will pay for what he did."

At that moment, fire burning in her crying brown eyes, Ron had never loved her more.

"Let's get you inside," he whispered, squeezing her a bit tighter.

"Ron…" she moaned softly, still crying, still broken.

He hugged her even tighter, kissing the top of her head. "It's alright Hermione," he assured her. "It can't rain forever."

Hermione didn't move, but didn't object when Ron shifted under her arm and lifted her up. Slowly but surely, the two made their way back to the castle. Harry was still there, waiting nervously at the door. Hermione looked up at him with forgiving eyes. Without another word, he submerged her in an empathetic hug.

The two boys guided her silently to the Gryffindor common room, where they were instantly surrounded by hoards of curious students. Harry warded as many of them off as he could, while Ron continued on his way to the girls' dormitory.

Silently cursing the founders distrust of boys (however well-placed it may have been), he beckoned Ginny out of the crowd. Lavender and Parvti appeared at once, feeling it was their god-given duty to know exactly what was going on. Two seconds of their high-pitched voices and faked concern and Ron knew Hermione would hardly be able to take a whole night of that.

"Maybe you should stay somewhere else tonight," Ron suggested, causing Lavender and Parvti to look horribly offended.

"No Ron, I'm alright," Hermione assured him, slowly coming back to reality. Still, Ron was less then pleased with the idea of her being stuck with only the company of Lavender and Partvi for the rest of the night.

"Don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone tonight," he admitted.

Once again, Lavender and Parvti gasped scandalously. "She won't be alone! She'll have us! If one of you would just tell us what's going on!"

Ron looked at them tiredly. "Like I said 'Mione, best if you stayed somewhere else."

Hermione looked at the girls once and then gave a quick, thankful nod.

Harry, who had convinced most of the other Gryffindors that nothing was wrong, approached Ron and Hermione. "What's going on?"

"Think we ought to stay in the common room, you know, just till everything settles down," Ron said, gazing back at Lavender and Parvti so that Harry might understand.

"Oh," he commented apprehensively. "Yeah."

"I need to go upstairs for just a minute then, get some things," Hermione said, slightly dazed.

Ron glanced nervously at Harry. "We could just send Ginny up…"

"I'm fine, Ron," Hermione said and was able to manage a feeble smile because of Ron's concern. "I'll only be a moment."

"Alright," Ron said hesitantly, following her to the door.

"Oh Hermione!" Lavender squeaked. "What happened?"

Hermione, still lost in her own world, only nodded and continued up the stairs.

Lavender looked like she had never been so offended in her life. She turned to Parvti and gave an irritated snort. "Like I care anyway, probably just forgot her homework for Potions class or something."

Ron was enraged. "Why don't you two just shut up? You have no idea what Hermione is going through," he shouted, using all of his strength not to land a punch on one. Harry automatically rose to see what was happening.

"Ooohh," Lavender grinned. "No need to get so sensitive, Ron. I think you could do much better, anyway." At this, the two girls broke into laughter.

"I swear-" Ron started in a low growl, pulling out his wand. He was stopped by the sound of Hermione coming back down the stairs. Her dazed eyes surveyed the scene with a vague unknowingness.

"What's going on?" she asked, clutching a small box in her arms.

"Nothing!" Lavender smiled quickly, "Nothing at all! You just feel better now!" Knowing the risks of staying any longer, she grabbed Partvi's hand and tramped up the stairs. Ron, wanting to cause Hermione no alarm, stayed silent on the matter and so Harry did the same.

So the three made an agreement that they would wait in the common room until they could be sure the girls in the dormitory were asleep. However, when Ron asked what was in the box that Hermione clutched so tightly, she began crying lightly again and Ron, in all his guilt and love, held her close, stroking her hair, until they both faded off into sleep. Harry smiled before covering them with a blanket, and nodding off as well.

For the next few months, Ron took all the energy he had once used to annoy Hermione, and put it into protecting her. As the news spread around the school, he became her personal bodyguard, escorting her to and from classes, screaming threats at any Slytherian who so much as looked at her and often, at well-meaning sympathizers. While all of this grew rather annoying, Hermione appreciated everything he had done for her, and the two grew closer then ever.

Talk of parents or family of any kind was avoided like the plague until Christmas, when it was necessary to know where Hermione was planning to go. They had approached the subject delicately and Hermione, who had already told them how foolish she thought she had acted, had returned to her normal, proud, unwavering self and told them casually that she would have to stay at Hogwarts. Of course, Ron simply would not have this and invited them both to Christmas with his family, which neither could refuse.

And so, time passed and things returned to normal with a few exceptions. For one, the Gryffindor common room was no longer filled with the sound of Ron and Hermione's constant bickering, but instead, with their quiet conversations or laughter, both having realized the fragility of life and the importance of friendship. The other difference was small, noticed only by Ron and perhaps Harry. It was those silent, tearful stares Hermione would shoot out into the distance and the way her eyes no longer twinkled, but burned. Hermione was not as stoic to tragedy as she tried to appear.

It was the last week of term when she approached him. He was laying out in front of the fire, tossing bits of parchment in and watching them crinkle and burn.

"I'm studying! I swear! I was just taking a break!" he yelled fearfully, fumbling to reach a book.

"I have somewhere to go," she told him quietly. "Would you come with me?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow, but her face was plain and unresponsive.

"Sure," he said.

And so, she led him silently down the stairs, through the halls, and out the doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not too far from the school was what looked like a particularly ugly rock, and without realizing why, Ron was filled with a sudden want to get as far away from it as he could. But Hermione stopped him, reaching with one hand, and using the other to touch the rock.

A second later they were gone, whisked off to some other place.

"A portkey?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Professor McGongall set it up for me."

Ron looked around his surroundings. The place was dull, dark, damp, and soaked with a special kind of misery that Ron couldn't explain. When he looked up again, he saw that Hermione was holding a bouquet of brightly colored flowers in her hand. Suddenly, it all came together.

"I didn't want to go alone," she explained, walking through the rusted iron gates, and down rows of wetted grass. Ron said nothing, but understood.

The two graves looked small and plain among their towering counterparts. Engraved in small, wispy letters on the first was "Jane M. Granger. 1962-2004." And on the second, "Paul H. Granger. 1959-2004." For the first time since it had all begun, it was suddenly real for both of them. Hermione's parents were dead. There they were, beneath the earth, their names carved in stone. They were dead.

It was Hermione who took the first step. Laying her flowers in front of them, she pressed her hand to her mouth, then softly again on each grave. "I love you," she told them quietly, hoping somehow they would hear.

She turned from them, taking Ron's hand in her own.

"Hermione?" he questioned weakly as they passed through the graveyard gate once more.

She smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Oh Ron," she whispered, reaching up touch a hand to his cheek. "It can't rain all the time."

No, he thought, as her tiny lips reached up to meet his, it couldn't.

Fin.

Thanks so much for reading! Please review:D