Hey! This is just an idea I had while watching it rain and thinking I should probably get to writing my other Fanfictions since I really have nothing better to do with my life.
This could be a scene from my story "Chip Away the Stone," but you don't need to read that to understand this. It wouldn't hurt, though. ^^
Disclaimer! I do not own Harry Potter. Or thunderstorms, as a matter of fact, which happen to belong to God.
...
Hermione sat with her legs bent, her torso turned so she was facing out the window with her arms crossed on the back of the couch, her chin rested on her hands.
I knew she shouldn't do that, she knew she shouldn't do that, but we both knew she couldn't help it. She loved the sound, loved the smell of rain. She loved watching it spatter on the pavement, loved feeling the cool breeze of the storm wash in and toussle her hair. She liked watching the wind toss the tree branches and the flowers on the lawn twisting about.
We knew that her moment of curious bliss would end soon, but we also knew that she should enjoy it while she could.
We would be ready this time, I decided. I heard a soft rumble. She heard a soft rumble. I know because her shoulder tensed until it was over. I sat just behind her on the sofa, removing the pillow that had been her backrest and taking its place. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, still allowing her to watch the rain.
And then, there was a loud CRACK! And Hermione shrieked.
I sighed and shut the window, letting her turn in my arms to bury her face in my chest. I began talking about my day, about Remus and Harry and the Weasley's and things I liked and things I hated and things I loved. My voice rose with each crash of thunder and lowered with the wind to allow her to catch bits of rainfall.
There was a sound like the hissing of a cat and the snapping of a treebranch, and the house shook and the rain picked up and the power went out but it wasn't dark because lightening flashed and Hermione sobbed.
The flashing lights and the loud sounds and the pouring rain were the sounds that reminded her of the war, the sounds that evoked more fear than she'd ever felt before. And before me, she'd had to endure that all by herself. Every storm would find her curled up and crying beneath her blanket, trying to block the sound with her hands or her pillow, but it broke through and was completely relentless, just like the war always had been.
I shook my head and squeezed her to my chest. The gutters had filled and were overflowing, pouring down onto the sidewalk below, the spattering sound nearly deafening. The rain picked up and hail pounded against the windows. Hermione screamed and continued to sob and all I could do was hold her and tell her I loved her and keep talking and then-
It started to get bad. I picked Hermione up and ran her downstairs to the basement as thunder cracked like gunshot and the rain smacked the pavement. The wind howled louder than Hermione's screams.
There was nothing important enough to me to get to the basement besides Hermione. Nothing was as precious to me as her life. We sat on a blanket and I cradled her. The sound wasn't as loud down here, so I was easily able to talk over the loud crashes and the the angry wind.
"Sirius," she whispered.
This was new. She never tried to talk during a storm.
"Yes, love?" I asked her quietly.
"I think it's over."
We listened in silence for a moment and found that she was right-it was quiet up there.
I lifted her and carried her to our bedroom. She was always completely wiped out after a storm, but she coulnd't help it, I couldn't help it. We both knew that the war had affected people in ways they couldn't control.
I laid Hermione down and came around to the other side of the bed, pulling the blankets over us and bringing Hermione closer to myself. She buried her face in my chest again.
"Thank you, Sirius," she whispered.
"Of course, love," I whispered.
Hermione fell asleep and stayed asleep during the second round of the storm. But if she were to wake up, I would hold her close and tell her I loved her and talk over her and the thunder and she didn't have to be scared with me. I didn't want her to be afraid, but she couldn't help it, and I couldn't help it. That's just the way it goes.
...
I hope you like the run-on sentencey goodness. That's just how I felt this should go, lot's of run-ons. It was fun to write it that way.
It kind of reminded me of this girl in my speech class who said "and" constantly. "AAAAND I have always showed horses, AAAAAND it's sort of a family thing AAAAAAND I have twelve horses AAAAAAAND Blah blah blah..."
She really liked horses.
Your thoughts are appreciated! ^^