A/N: I don't own the Potterverse. Also, more of a drabble than a full fic this time; I really just didn't know where to take this prompt.
pluviophile - (n.) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days [english]
Magic could do many amazing things; it could keep you warm during the coldest winter, it could keep you dry during the most drenching rain, and keep you protected during the most blistering sun. The thing magic could not do is stop the weather from occurring at all. So while you would be warm, it would still be bitter winter. While you would suffer no burn, the sun would still beat down upon you. And while you could very easily stay dry, magic would not stop the rain from falling upon you. So, like most in the Muggle world, when it rained, the magical stayed inside.
Well, most did, anyway.
"Sometimes, you just have to splash in the puddles," she thought. If it hadn't been her day off, she would have had to patrol the Alley in the rain anyway. Of course, the particularly stodgy visitors to Diagon would have looked down their noses at an Auror jumping in puddles during their patrol shift, so Tonks was perfectly happy doing so off duty instead. No one paid much mind, since she had wisely chosen to look a bit younger for this excursion, freeing her from the ever disapproving "Aren't you too old to be doing that?" crowd. A 20-something acting like a child was concerning; a teenager doing the same was so commonplace as to be easily ignored.
Once Diagon had worn out its fun, she proceeded into Muggle London, and found infinitely more splashable puddles; a consequence of not being able to perfectly control where the rain falls, she assumes. Only her stomach calling for food broke up her play, and even meals were only a brief respite. The rain began slacking off as she finally headed back to her flat, as though it knew their time together was coming to a close. The last few drops fell as she appeared outside her building, and she blew a kiss to the clouds, thanking them for her day.