Alright, this was just a little something I cooked up in the middle of the night, in (surprise, surprise) a thunder storm. I know it's very short. And kind of
bi-polar. For some reason, all of my inspiration comes at 1 AM. Go figure. A great big thank you to my wonderful beta Yolanda. I'm getting better! Yay! This
short story (if it's long enough to even qualify as a story at all) is a bit angsty, I think, but it's all R/H. Hope you Enjoy! Read and Review! It helps me come up
with more drama!
She couldn't stand him sometimes. She really couldn't.
Hermione Granger walked down the puddle-ridden lawn, arms folded tightly across her chest, to the edge of the lake. It was raining, and she was cold and very
wet, but she didn't care. Lightning split the sky, and she kept walking.
Why does he have to be so arrogant?
A tear, camouflaged by the rain, slid down her face as the lake grew closer. There was a sudden squelching noise behind her in the distance, and she knew he
was trying to catch up. But Hermione wouldn't let that happen, if she could help it.
"'Mione! 'Mione, stop!"
Stupid Ron and his stupid long legs.
Hermione didn't turn around. She couldn't bear it. She heard him catch up to her. He was right behind her, but she didn't care. She kept walking, staring at the ground.
"Don't you storm off when I'm trying to talk to you!"
Ron overtook her and stopped directly in her path, facing her and looking very angry. She stopped, but kept her eyes stubbornly on the muddy ground, refusing
to let him see her tears. Thunder crashed into the surrounding air.
"What the hell do you mean, you don't give a damn?" he said forcefully.
She didn't look up. She didn't answer. She hated everything about him at that point. But she loved everything about him, too. All of it, right down to his soggy
socks. All of the confused emotions welled up inside until she couldn't stand it anymore.
"I mean that I don't give a damn what you think about my going to Bulgaria! I could care less about what you think! Me going to Bulgaria has NOTHING to do
with you. If I want to leave the country, it's my own damn business, Ronald Weasley!"
Hermione was at the breaking point. Inside, she was screaming. She couldn't, wouldn't take this from him. He'd hurt her enough.
"What the bloody hell do you see in him anyway? He doesn't care about you! He's using you!" he said, his voice louder than the thunder that crackled across
"And How would YOU know anything about him?"
"I know that he's a bloke. And I can't BELIEVE that you actually went and LIVED with him in Bulgaria!"
"I STAYED with him and his FAMILY, Ron. I can't BELIEVE you're getting SO STUPID over a little thing like ME wanting to live my OWN LIFE!"
She'd had enough. As Ron opened his mouth angrily to retort, she put her hands over her ears, and cut him off before he could even get a word of it out.
"STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS! NOT TO YOU, NOT TO HARRY, NOT TO ANYONE!" Hermione shouted, tears streaming down her
face. "I'M SORRY I EVER MET YOU!" she yelled.
She hadn't meant to say it. Mortified, she put a hand over her mouth. Ron looked more hurt than she'd ever seen him look.
"Ron, I didn't mean that-"
"Yes you did," he said. The look on his face was heartbreaking. She would've done anything to take away the pain she had just caused, to hug him and tell him
how much he meant to her. But she just stood there. And then...
With a flash of light to hurt the eyes, a bolt sailed down to earth and touched the ground directly between them. Hermione was thrown backwards with a
scream that she couldn't hear. It lasted all of a millisecond. Then, it was black. Hermione was shaking uncontrollably, and for a few minutes, she couldn't
move. Struggling to regain her eyesight, she suddenly panicked. "Ron? RON? Are you alright?" she shouted to the darkness. If he was hurt, she would never
A muffled "bloody hell" answered.
Hermione was relieved and elated and terrified all at once. She saw a patch of red through the dark and threw herself at it. Ron was tackled to the mud as she
landed on him, hugging him as though to strangle him. Hermione started crying. Tears of joy and tears of anguish mingled together as she sat there in the rain,
holding on to Ron's shirt. She felt him wrap his arms around her, and she knew she'd be alright. They sat there, in the mud and the water and the grass. After a
while, Hermione looked up. "Ron," she started, "I didn't mean it. Really I didn't. But-"
And he kissed her. Just then, she didn't recall who she was, or where they were, or what had just happened. She only knew that this had to be what it felt like
to get hit by lightning. Every inch of her body tingled, and felt so warm, that she could have sworn that the rain started evaporating off of her in a steam. Not
even the bolt that had nearly struck them earlier could have felt like this. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the
kiss. She never wanted to stop. And then she heard the thunder. In a flash, everything came back to her. The lightning.
They were both up and off at a run like startled deer, sprinting back toward the castle. Ron slipped once, and Hermione had to help him up. They joined hands,
and ran as though the wind, the rain, the lightning, the whole world would never catch up to them. And it never would.
And they laughed together all the way.