Every Time it Rains
By: Hazy Fairy Tale

Disclaimer: Previous characters and situations created in the Harry Potter series are owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Every Time it Rains

Hermione hated the dark storm clouds that were building up in the already dark sky. She glared up at them just waiting for the inevitable downpour that was to come. She shuddered at the thunder that rumbled fiercely followed by the flash of lightening that lit the sky.

She hated the rain. Hated every droplet that smeared across the glass and cascaded down the window where it pooled on the windowsill with the rest of the rainwater. Hated the way the memories and images came to her as each drop beat against the side of her home.

You hate it because-

She bit her quivering bottom lip as she pressed her hands and forehead against the cold glass and closed her eyes.

-Because it makes you feel weak.

It was always the same memory. Flashes of images ran through her mind of hands that cascaded over her rain sleeked body, of fingers that only intensified the pleasure she already felt. Of a mouth so warm that it melted away the chilled air around them and of her own swollen lips that formed the name, Pansy, in a silent cry of pleasure.

Always the same-

A flash of blond ringlets curled around her fingers in her heavily hooded vision. Her own legs wantonly spread as a tongue skillfully-

Her eyes flickered open and she turned away from the window. Her legs were shaking unsteadily and her heart was beating furiously in her chest.

-Visions that even time could not chase away.

She cursed the rain. Cursed the long trail of lovers that had followed that one, no one that even compared to her. She, who was trapped away in a prison across a treacherous sea for the horrible choices she had made.


And you wonder-


She slid down the wall until she sat on the floor with her legs folded under her where she closed her eyes again and leaned her back against the wall. She could block away the views of the rain, but never the sounds. No matter how hard she tried, she could still hear the rain that beat against the window and the thunder that rumbled overhead.

-As she slowly loses her mind, would she think of you?

It was ridiculous to be sitting on the floor, twenty-two years old, and unable to stop the tears that seeped out from beneath her closed eyelids. It was madness to think that how the time only caused more pain in her heart. Her mother once told her that time was supposed to heal all wounds, but in the end, it only wounded all heals.

Yet every time it rains the wounds are split open again.

There was a time she thought she could forget, just after Pansy had been found guilty and sent off to Azkaban, when she had started to see Ron for a bit. It never worked though and nearly severed their already thinning friendship. He never liked the fact that she had seen Pansy even after the young woman had turned from her Death Eater ways.

Pansy had turned away from her Death Eater ways when she had fallen in love with Hermione. The Ministry had used the one time Pansy had used Cruciatus Curse on a wizard during the war to incarcerate her in Azkaban for five years. Although Ministry members had used their own fair share of Unforgivable curses during the course of the war.

The thunder rumbled louder reminding Hermione of the presence of the storm as though she needed a reminder. She knew it was there, mocking her, and she cursed aloud at it. God, how she hated it! She buried her head in her hands as each memory came to her again.

The tips of her fingers ached with the memory of touch and her mouth tingled with the remembrance of taste. Tears, she tried desperately to hold back, slipped from beneath her clenched eyelids and cascaded down her cheeks at the images that flashed through her mind.

She squirmed uncomfortably and bit her lower lip. It was only an image, only a memory, yet every time it rained...

She reached up, wiped away the salty tear streaks from her cheeks, and sniffled as the sound of rain died away. She slowly stood back up, turned around, and faced the window again.

Rays of golden streaks from the sun were now beginning to peak through the darkened clouds and the rain had ceased. She loved the sun.

Completed on Monday, February 09, 2004



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