A/N: I wrote this one shot a year ago. I imagine that this takes place somewhere between books five and six, though I'm not relying on any specific events for reference points. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated!

Musical inspirations: the live version of Seal's "Colour" and Meiko's "Heard It All Before"

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in the Harry Potter franchise. That's all J.K. Rowling.

***

It could have been much worse, after all.

They had only gotten caught in the rain.

They had ventured to Hagrid's an hour beforehand to gain advice on the current events; their journey to the cozy hut accompanied by a light mist. Yet they had miscalculated the storm's steady approach. As they strode up the hillside path, the soft sprinkling of rain turned into a sudden downpour. He cursed softly, she gave an uncharacteristic squeak, and both Gryffindors broke into a jog through the rain.

When they reached a dry spot, the companions slowed their gaits to wipe the moisture from their eyes. He bent over, bracing his knees with heavy intakes for air, while she leaned against the bridge. Ron looked up at Hermione, prepared to have a painful spell rain on his head as an "I told you so" punishment for her soaked condition. Instead, he exhaled loudly as he took in that exact condition.

Hermione was soaked through and through. Her wet curls were plastered to her face. Her uniform clung to her curves and Ron couldn't help but notice the transparent nature of her white blouse against the tank top underneath. She vainly attempted to wring out the water in her skirt and by doing so, flashes of thigh greeted his eye.

Ron gulped.

Hermione untucked her blouse and proceeded to squeeze out the excess water. She glanced up at Ron, prepared to reproach him, but was slightly startled to find his intense gaze on her. Her eyes wandered up to his hair and the way that it fell into his darkened eyes. An uncanny desire to brush the storm-kissed strands off his forehead flooded her senses.

"Ron?"

He blinked out of his trance at the sound of her voice.

"Should we make a break for it?" she asked.

He shrugged, struggling to regain his voice.

She stood up straight, taking in his drenched form. She knew the spell to dry them both off instantly; she wasn't sure that she wanted that to happen, though.

"Dunno, I rather like standing soaking wet like this with you. Great view and all," Ron admitted with a mischievous glance up and down her body. "Of the valley, of course," he added, though the statement was accompanied by wagging eyebrows.

Hermione's mouth fell open with surprise, not expecting a reply like that. Instead of hexing him, she laughed. "Wow, Ron, subtlety is your expertise."

Ron's signature goofy grin spread across his face. "I know, right?" He crossed the few feet separating them with his lanky steps.

Their new proximity allowed Ron to tower over Hermione. She reached her hand up and giggled as she finally caved to her desire and brushed the hair off his face. Ron's face flushed pink. "You look like a drenched rat," she said between giggles. His face twisted in mock indignation.

"Wow, Hermione, tell me how you really feel."

She laughed heartily now. "Oh please, Ron, like my hair isn't a rat's-nest-of-a-nightmare right now. Besides, it's not a horrible look on you," she said, saying the last part softly. She reached into her pocket to pull out her wand, no doubt to ameliorate both of their appearances, until Ron's hand enveloped her wrist. He lowered her hand gently.

"Well, contrary to your belief, your hair does look different." His other hand found a strand of her hair and twirled it in his fingers. "But in a good way." He smirked. "So if I look like a drenched rat, and you're a rat's nest, does that I mean I can settle in your…"

"Not another word, Ronald Weasley, or I will shut that mouth for you!" she gasped, pulling her wrist free from his grasp and slapping his arm playfully.

"And how do you intend on that?" he asked. His smirk had softened and Hermione couldn't help but hear something more in his tone.

A gust of wind interrupted her thoughts as it swept through the bridge's gaps, bringing leaves and twigs with it. Hermione squealed again, Ron cursed again, and the two took off down the cobblestone bridge. Their shoes clopped through puddles of rain, splashing down their legs, as Hogwarts drew closer.

As they entered the courtyard, Hermione's pace slowed down. Her heavy breathing was replaced with breathless laughter as she gave up the notion of escaping the rain. Ron looked over his shoulder and stopped his gait, watching as Hermione smiled back at him, shrugging in defeat. Her tie was coming undone, her white shirt was even more transparent, her hair curled wetly all around her face, and one of her socks had fallen down toward her ankle. She had never looked more disheveled. She had never looked more beautiful.

She spread her palms up to catch the rain as water washed her upturned face. She felt like the little girl she once was, enjoying the rain on her body, relishing in an unrestrained moment of impulse. Impulse had never been Hermione's friend except on very rare occasions. With the security of a nearby Ron, the comfort of one of her best friends, Hermione dared to spin in the rain. It was an awkward spin, one in which she almost lost her balance. But she loved the sensation and dared to do it again. And again. Ron smiled at the sight, a smile that Hermione missed, seeing that her eyes were closed.

She heard him coming before he took a deep breath. She heard him coming before his feet splashed the nearby puddles. She felt him coming before his hands took hold of hers. She felt him as he used his body weight to shift her orbit. She was being pulled along at his guidance, spinning her in an orbit around his frame. The sun to his Earth, warming his surface even through the rain. Shocked, she opened her eyes only to stare into his bemused blue ones as he spun with her. She shifted her weight and giggled as the world grew dizzy and covered with her ringlets. The two laughed gleefully as thunder roared nearby.

When the world grew too confusing, too blurry, too wet, she squeezed Ron's hands. He took the motion and tried to gradually slow down their speed. At the last moment, they lost their centers of gravity and stumbled away from each other. Unfortunately for Ron, he tripped over part of a broken tree branch and fell into a huge puddle of water. Dizzy, Hermione giggled as she watched Ron shake his head vigorously like a wet Fang. She slowly walked over to him, mindful of the world still rushing around her, and kneeled at his eye-level.

"All right?" she asked.

He sighed then grinned sheepishly while sitting upright. "Yeah. I've done worse to embarrass myself."

"Oh, Ron. You've definitely done much, much worse that this doesn't even compare," she agreed.

Ron glared at her before an evil smirk began to spread. With a flourish of his arm, he splashed Hermione with puddle water. She yelped, a look of complete shock covering her face.

"You cheeky bastard!" she shouted, splashing him back from her crouched proximity.

Ron laughed loudly. "Language, 'Mione. I hope you don't kiss your mum with that…" Ron began until Hermione lost her balance and fell forward. And with luck on their side, she barely had enough time to reach forward and grab his shoulders, using them as a foundation to catch herself. His arms instinctively wrapped around her to secure her impact and both of them were doused in a wave of water as his back hit the ground. Cradled against his body, Hermione was the first to open her eyes and peer into Ron's. Without thinking, she sputtered out the water that had invaded her mouth, which thusly hit Ron in the face.

Her mouth dropped open. "Ron! So sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Quite all right," he said, using one hand to wipe his face off. The act made no difference to the rain, which continued to pour. "You've done worse to me," he added with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, pushing off of him to stand back up. "There you go again, always exaggerating."

"Exaggerating? I beg your pardon," said Ron, standing up to only tower over her again.

"Begging will do you little justice," she remarked, sticking out her tongue. She felt good. She felt wonderful. It was wonderful to go against the expected every now and then.

"Even if I appeal to the court?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid the ruling has been made. Ronald Weasley, you are charged guilty."

"And what's my punishment?"

"Oh, I'm afraid it's to Azkaban for you."

"For what crime?"

"Too many to name, I'm afraid. I'd have to get out the official scroll and if I did that, we'd be here all day," she remarked.

"Hmm, Hermione?" he said, taking a step closer to her. "I think you're full of…"

"Language, Ron!" she interrupted. "I swear, something needs to be done about that mouth of…"

Ron had other ideas. Just as she had started to move away, Ron grabbed her tie and lightly tugged her back. It didn't matter that they were standing under the storm clouds in plain sight. With a quick dip of his head, Ron's lips brushed Hermione's, preventing her from finishing her sentence. She stilled with the sudden realization of what was happening and before she could possibly respond, Ron pulled away and took several steps back. The rain, which had been shielded from her face by Ron's taller frame, lightly tapped her on her cheeks and coaxed her out of her stupor. She gathered the courage to steal a look at Ron, feeling a blush creep across her face. His eyes were watching her with apprehension, his features showing that he, too, was torn. He was shocked by his bravado, aroused by the curves he had felt while on the ground, and going crazy from the sexiness she unconsciously exuded. Ron shoved his hands into his pockets, frightened that he had done the wrong thing; that he had just violated her trust, her safety, and had ruined everything. Until she stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm. Searching his eyes and breathing a little harder, Hermione paused for only a moment. Then she stepped on her tip toes and lightly, shyly, pressed her lips against his. It was sweet and unsure but deliberate and hopeful. And it was Ron's turn to turn rigid, shocked in place. A loud crash of thunder overhead made Hermione jump and almost break away from him. The timid act instantly made Ron relax and smile against her mouth, reminding him that there was nothing to be scared of. This was Hermione. He withdrew his hands and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close, and pressed his lips more resolutely against hers. Another crash of thunder filled the air, but Hermione wasn't scared this time. She was too preoccupied. The kiss lasted a short time, ending when Hermione sank back onto her feet to catch her breath. Her body's temperature had shot through the roof in a matter of seconds and she needed to feel the cooling rain. She looked directly ahead at Ron's chest, still embraced in his arms, reeling through what had just happened. As her thoughts churned, her fingers played with his tie absentmindedly, feeling his chest rise and fall through his drenched dress shirt. Ron's fingers found themselves in her curls, wondering whether he should say something, pull away, or dare kiss her again.

Until a third party coughed.

They instinctively froze. Ron relished in Hermione's flustered state as she stared up into Ron's eyes, afraid of looking at the intrusive newcomer. The pink turned brighter and her face grew warmer as she watched Ron lick his lips, searching for a lingering trace of her phantom ones. Normally in awkward situations, he would grimace in complete embarrassment and stammer some stupid explanation. Feeling alive, he chuckled and groaned softly at the awful timing. Giving Hermione's side a reassuring pinch, he dared to look up at their witness.

They had only gotten caught in the rain.

It could have been much worse, after all.