Fan Fiction ❯ Harry Potter and the Forbidden One ❯ Summer Nights ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The rain kept at a maximum, letting go of water droplet after water droplet, becoming more and more frequent from a slow pace to a fast one. As the thunder bellowed above him, a sixteen year old boy named Harry Potter was smiling for the first time in months.
They said to meet me here. Now I'm here...and where are they...
His damp raven hair and green eyes reflected off the puddle he stared at, and everything seemed to be alright. That was, if you subtracted the three years from his life. With them added on he was just another teenager, trapped in the age of confusion, misunderstanding, and trouble. Past full of trouble, present full of trouble, and an obvious future full of trouble that he just couldn't escape. It would come at him naturally, whizzing past everyone's heads without a second glance until it got right up in his face.
Harry looked up slightly, tilting his head back a little and blinking in attempt to see through his water covered glasses. Two figures came into view, and he could tell who they were. He was expecting them, but for some reason it seemed odd...after all, Ron and Hermione just wouldn't be walking down Magnolia Crescent without any means of transportation back to the Burrow. It just didn't seem right. He would have to go see what was up, but the giggly look on Hermione's face could give it away that nothing was serious. In fact, rather funny, it seemed. Whatever it was.
Hopping off the swing and into a puddle, Harry started to walk down to the road to meet with the two. He looked back at his two suitcases of stuff (for the amounts of his possessions had grown over the years), and shrugged. He could come back and get the stuff after he was done talking with them.
"HARRY!" Hermione Granger ran up to him, brownish hair in the same style it always was, hanging on her shoulders. She looked very--fimilar, to say the least, as if nothing had changed about her. Same old but good old Hermione, the smartest of the trio.
Ron Weasley (Harry's other best friend) ran up with her, grinning. He had flaming red hair that hadn't changed much but maybe grew an inch, and was tall and rather gangling. Ron usually always stuck on Harry's side rather he was wrong or not, but tended to get jealous easy. He didn't have a lot of money, or fame, for that matter, and Harry did. Sometimes it seemed like he only got known for being Harry's friend, and that annoyed him. But now he was too happy to think about any of that stuff. He tried to sustain himself from laughing, but the pressure was too great while looking at Harry, who was absolutely soaked. He was glad to see his friend, more then he'd ever been in his life. After the past year he was worried about Harry. With Sirius 'dying', (if you could call it dying), Voldemort returning, and everything in between, it had to be the most stressful year of his life. Easily the most. And with nobody to talk too over the summer, they were afraid Harry would, to put it simply, go crazy.
"How long have you been out in the rain then, mate?"
"For about an hour," answered Harry, starting to walk back to the park to get his bags. "It's not that cold outside, and being out here can be quite a way to pass the time...watch storms..." A faded smile arrived on his lips, remembering the nights he had stayed up to watch the cloud lightning zip across the sky, as if being played with by a mysterious bored hand. He picked up his suitcases, starting to head back to the Dursleys dreaded home at Number Four, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging."So, uhm, Harry...I doubt you'll believe this story..." Hermione erupted into laughter again, and Ron elbowed her with a sharp look of humor in his eyes, though acting as trying to be serious. But Hermione couldn't stop laughing. "W-we were going to get that Ford Anglia t-to pick you up here...and they spent t-three weeks trying to get it out of the forest--" She couldn't help herself, and neither could Harry. The thought of Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore trying to coax a car out of a forest was just plain funny...
"Which, obviously, they didn't get it out," said Harry, pausing for a second, "so how exactly are we getting to your house, Ron?" "Not by car," Ron remarked, and laughing some more he added, "I asked dad get the Dursleys' fireplace hooked back up with the Floo Network. It'll be open today and today only, so we're going through there. Oh, and don't worry, I brought the floo powder." He held up a bag that was in his right hand. The whitish-grayish substance was filling it, the powerdy, pasty look even a welcoming to Harry, remembering the first time he had ever used that stuff. He was as ready to go as he had ever been, no matter what it would take to leave he would do it, and the determination on his face was obvious...he had one of those stupid over-confident grins.
Ron couldn't help himself from laughing. This had practiclly been the trios happiest reunion yet, and they weren't about to change that. This time there was no yelling. No screaming, no tears, no feelings of sorrow, no hurt, and no anguish. They were happy. All finally putting their differences aside to come together and look at the bright side all three had the same views on. Just happiness...and they had all missed that for sure...
"Well, then what are we waiting for? If I have to spend one more minute within five miles of the Dursleys' I swear I'll scream..." Harry said, breaking into a grin. Nope, he quietly thought to himself, Not on a day this awesome...it's brillant. Ron, Hermione, and magic again, finally. Just another perfect day in his abnormal, impossible, crazy life. His mind was clear and his intents were set."Race you there!" Ron jolted into a fast run. Harry had a lot on his mind, but none of the thoughts at the moment as important as beating Ron and Hermione into the living room of his Aunt and Uncles' place.


They arrived there around the same time, Ron and Harry both trying to push through the door at once. Hermione was a couple steps behind, but she still looked joyful. Harry felt like a new person. After being around the Dursleys' so much, happiness hadn't exsisted. He only kept going on for his friends, to defeat Voldemort, and to prove to his remaining family he could do anything. It was suddenly quiet, but Dudley broke the silence.
"What are you doing back?" He seemed to be trying to ignore Ron and Hermione, who were equally as well trying to ignore him. Harry knew that if Ron took a direct look into his eyes or Dudleys' they'd both start laughing. He had come to know Dudley as the "baby elephant" and always cracked jokes about how in the world he escaped the zoo. He couldn't even look at Harry, much less anywhere else. Dudley's face was in at least two dozen picture frames strewn across the living room.
Hermione was inspecting the place curiously.
Aunt Petunia looked over from the kitchen and almost dropped a plate, appaled. "Didn't you leave an hour ago?"
"No, I was waiting for my friends. We're leaving now, and we've got to go through the fireplace," Harry said, trying hard not to laugh or smile stupidly, but meanwhile uncontrollobly was. "Where's the Floo Powder, Ron?" He turned to him, grinning. Hermione still stood there, now looking at Dudley.
How could a normal boy get that size? Her eyes were full of wonder and thought.
"Here." Ron showed them the bag in his right hand. "You go first, Hermione. I'll go after you, and Harry will go last." Hermione nodded, coming over to reach a handful of the powdery dust-like material, and walked to the open fireplace that had remained unboarded since Harry was fourteen and the Weasleys' came through to get Harry for the Quidditch World Cup. Harry grabbed a handful anyways, for when it was his turn.
Mr. Dursley, almost speechless, looked at Harry like he had three heads. He opended his mouth in protest. "When I said stay out for the rest of the year, I meant it." His lips were turned upwards, and Harry thought he looked a little bit too much like a mean dog.
"I know, I was looking forward to you saying that all year. It'll just be five minutes." Harry turned back to Hermione, who was smiling in a way that said "I'm trying not to laugh". If she didn't go now, Harry knew she would start to laugh, and that would only cause more drama. He wanted to get to the burrow, anyways, not linger here any longer.
Clearing her throat, Hermione was in the fireplace, the handful of Floo Powder ready to throw down. She then threw it on Harry's nod, saying "The Burrow!" Loudly and clearly. A green flame erupted around her, and then she was gone. Ron took her position in the fireplace. "Oh, by the way, Harry, did I tell you Fred and George were looking for testers for they're new candy "Ash Lollipops"? The people that eat or like them or whatever don't realize that for the next hour everything they touch will turn to ash. If they can't find any testers, though, they say they'll start giving them to random muggles. The taste it normal, so basiclly it's like a normal lollipop." Ron grinned widely, looking at Dudley's overwhelmed face. It was a twisted smile trying to hide fear, which was too obvious to contain.
"The Burrow!" He was also gone in a cloud of smoke.
"Hurry up and leave!" Harry's uncle's red face seemed to be trying to control anger. "You said five minutes, it's been ten--"
"Oh give it up already, I'm leaving, I'm leaving. You think you're happy about it..." He went to stand in the fireplace. "Think you'll have a good year?" Harry tried to make the conversation last longer, just to put Mr. Dursley onto his last nerve. He was almost there, too. "I know I will. Trust me, I'll write!"
"One more word, and I swear, I swear I'll throw that powdery dust stuff down for you and make you go wherever you're going to go--" The beefy face was redder.
"Or I will." Dudley glared at Harry.
"Bad idea, Dudders. I'll get Fred and George to get someone to somehow get you a lollipop. Don't want your poor food turned into ash, do you? So you can't get any wider then you already are?" Dudley's fists curled into balls, and Harry knew this was the end of his teasing around.
He threw the powder on the fireplace ground and yelled "The Burrow!" Before his uncle or Dudley could say (or do, for that matter) anything else.
The next thing Harry knew, he was flying out of the Weasley's fireplace, tired, and smiling softly.

The next morning Harry woke up in Ron's bedroom at the Weasley's, unsure of the reality of it all. Had they really come to take him, Harry, away?
Duh.
How stupid could he had been to even think he was dreaming? He was there...alive, in the present, awake...so without a doubt he had to be there. It was just the after-shock of no Dursley's that was getting to him. The morning sunlight filtered itself through the ruby curtains, making itself known throughout the room, and Harry knew it was a late time to get up. His thoughts imediately floated. He had never expected much, he had never wanted much, just a place where he was happy. And he had found it; the magical world. Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, the Weasleys'...everything about this world was interesting, though he had grown accustomed to the random suprise that threw itself at him. All of it had revolved around Hogwarts...
That was the first thing that popped into his mind, the school at which he had choose to call home. His past, his present, and his future depended on that school. When he would defeat Voldemort, he would use spells he learned there. Harry found this the greatest thing in life imaginable...the ability to learn magic. Being at the muggle point of view, you could laugh if someone told you your next-door neighbor was a witch. The Wizard's had it hidden up so well, Harry wondered even how they thought of something like that. It was almost like two worlds...
No. It was two worlds, and it would always be. Muggle against magic. Magic against muggle, the two having to be divided to keep the chaos to a minimum. With Voldemort, though, that was tricky.
Why am I even thinking about this...
Trudging out of bed and to the mirror, what he saw was no suprise. He looked the same, if you could even say that. Harry was rather skinny, as anticipated, considering the way he only got meals when the Dursleys' felt like being 'decent' to him. His hair would not lie flat, as hard as he tried to make it, but he had still maintained his regular appearance. Harry never looked fancy, but never too shabby to the point where it was over the edge.
"Harry!" Ron poked his head in through the door. "Hurry up already and get down here, you're going to miss all the good food! Everyone wants to talk to you, come on...plus, we'll be going for the rest of the summer again somewhere, I think it's the Order headquarters, though, but I could be wrong.." As soon as Ron entered the room he exited, something oddly bouncy obviously playing through his mind. Harry hurried up and changed from his pajamas into real clothes; muggle clothes, as a matter of fact. They were the only thing he ever wore during the summer, except when he went to Diagon Alley to get his books and supplies, which would have to be soon...
Another thought rose up in his mind as he thought about books, supplies, Hogwarts, and everything in between in the magical world he had come to reside in. Dumbledore! Harry would have to see him soon, for sure, at the end of last year he promised to keep in touch with Harry...hadn't he? Would they go to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place this time? Was the Order of the Phoenix still opperating normally after Sirius...
The fimilar lump of feelings rose up in Harry's throat. Sirius. He felt so many things. Hate, sadness, dispear, anger, and lost hope...all winding up in his head to the point of drastic confusion. Harry hated Sirius, hated him for leaving, hated him for falling through the arch...but he was sad, at the same time the dispear and grief of loosing him unbareable. He was angry at Sirius, for leaving him with lost hope. The lost hope of leaving the Dursley's, the lost hope of finally being able to settle with someone who he could look up at as a father figure. It wasn't Sirius's fault though. He wished Sirius was back, wished his father was back, anything that could pose as a father. Definately, Sirius...
He was as close as one could ever be at that time
Sirius Black was one of Harry's father's best friends when they were at school. He had obviously never met his father, since Lily and James were mudered by Lord Voldemort, but he had always heard the stories. Stories of troublemaking, stories of tormenting Slytherins', and the stories of the impossible way he had come to win over Harry's mother's heart, since he did have his nose stuck in the clouds at one point or another.
Harry had to stop thinking. It's in the past. Don't even think about it...just go downstairs, eat breakfast, and worry about Mrs. Weasley's important news. That's it...
He emerged in the kitchen, taking the blank spot at the Weasley's table by Ron and across from Hermione, who beamed at him.
"It's about time you've got up, Harry! We've been waiting for you all morning...hungry?" She motioned towards the toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs in front of him in the middle of the table.
"Yeah, I'm starving..." He put a titch of everything on his plate, filling his glass with orange juice. "So, where are we going, Mrs. Weasley?" His curiousity flew, but the dreadful sense of knowing made the thought of being told on impulse much more unsuprising. Harry put on his best innocent smile he could.
"Well...I wasn't going to tell you guys, but we're heading over to the Order headquarters to stake out the rest of the summer. Or at least you guys, Arthur and I will be mixed between our house and there. As for you three, I'm almost certain you'll be staying there." Another sincere smile flashed across her face. "Sorry, Arthur's at the office all day, or he could fill you in with details. Theirs more to it then I know, so you'll just have to see..." Mrs. Weasley once again shrugged, leaving Harry with a very 'shruggy' feeling.
Nothing new...it won't be anything that I haven't seen before...wizards gathered, Snape, Dumbledore...Tonks...
He replayed the many over in his mind. More and more people seemed to have join the Order, according to Ron and Hermione, who exchanged him smiles and motioned upstairs."Might as well get our stuff together already." Hermione stood up, putting her plate in the sink, along with Ron and Harry's. They both nodded, as to say thank-you, and stood up.
"Will we be informed on any plans like we were last year?" Ron pushed in his chair, turning too his mother.
"Now, you three...don't start wondering those things like you did last year, this year's plans are a bit...scrambled. Different, because after last year, some things leaked out that weren't supposed too and some things happended that shouldn't of, so basiclly they're trying to recollect their original ideas." She finished putting pots and pans away and turned to the three. "If I were you, I'd be getting ready.
As if muttering the maigc word, the three starting running up the stairs, pushing eachother in a humorous manner. Ron accidently knocked Harry down the stairs, and as Harry pelted back up the steps to push him to the ground, he tripped over one of Fred's shoes and almost fell again. Upstairs and in the hallway, Ron were hysterically laughing. Harry smiled and started laughing too.
"Be quiet you two, honestly, it wouldn't be funny if Harry broke his neck, would it?" Hermione seemed slightly amused but yet not.
"Maybe it would? As they say, it's funny until someone gets hurt. Then it's hilarious..." Ron chimed, walking into the room Harry and him were staying. Belongings were scattered everywhere, and Hermione thanked herself that the room she was staying in wasn't that messy. She shook her head.
"Is it so hard to clean your room once in a while?" Hermione looked at the huge mess with disgust.
"Yeah, it is..." Ron acted upset, but Hermione and Harry knew better. Ron didnt really get--upset--he got angry. Their was a fine line between the two. "I-I try, and I try, but you guys never appreciate what I do..." He threw himself on his bed, fakely sobbing. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY, HERMIONE, I-I MEAN, JUST DON'T GET WHY NOTHING I DO PLEASES YOU!'"
Hermione doubled over in laughter, while Ron went on and on. Harry sat there and stared, blinking, with an amused smile on his face.
I've got the best friends in the world.

They arrived at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, right on time. It was rather hectic. Snape, Dumbledore, and McGonagall were rushing around here and there, meeting up with people as though preparing for something utterly important. Harry, Ron, nor Hermione understood any of this. The trio pondered in the upstairs room, running over the possibilites.
"It's just a meeting, I think..." Ron tried to convince Hermione and Harry, but it wasn't working. 'After all,' Harry had followed up on Ron's remark, 'they never carried on like this, even when it was before a meeting'.
Ron and Hermione had no room to argue; Harry was right. They deicded to brush it off and Harry decided to play Wizards Chess with Ron, even though he knew he would lose. Hermione went through some books on wandless magic. "Fascinating," she would often say, making Ron and Harry roll their eyes. The worst though, was when she would comment things like, "Oh, I knew that!" or "Any witch or wizard should know that." Ron wondered how she sat there and actually thought he was listening. It was almost laughable.
Less then a half hour later, the three were called downstairs by a number of voices.
"Ron, Harry, Hermione! Get down here!" Mrs. Weasley yelled first, followed by a number of voices yelling the same thing after Ron had yelled back down the stairs, "WAIT UNTIL I BEAT HARRY AT CHESS!" It was as though they wanted the trio down there, and quick. Ron sighed and stood up.
"I'll win when we come back up, let's go see what they all want." Hermione was already halfway down the steps as they came along the corner to them.
Harry laughed. "I might as well forfit, you always win. I don't remember winning any more than five against you."
"That's because you haven't." The reassuring smile on Ron's face was obviously there to boost his confidence, which it did. Chess was one of the few things that Ron could beat Harry at blindfolded.
They came down the stairs into the living room, where a bunch of people were. They seemed to all be introducing themselves to someone.
"Hello!"
"Nice to meet you!"
"Glad to have you here!"
A number of things were said, and Hermione was up toward the front of the small but existant crowd, greeting the newcomer. Harry hadn't even had a glimpse of the person yet, but he certain it was a girl, because the name 'Sara' was used multiple times in the many greetings.
Some people were ushered aside by Mrs. Weasley, who was now pulling the hand of someone over too the two. Ron looked as equally confused as Harry felt.
He then caught his glimpse of her. She was tall, but not too tall, and looked about his age. She had pitch black hair that Harry almost knew was natural, and that sort of stopped him. Not a lot of girls had black hair. The regular colors were blonde, dirty blonde, blonde-brown, and brown. Sometimes red, but very rarely black. She had on a long midnight blue cloak that hid most of her figure that Harry wondered was like. Just looking at her made him sure she was very pretty. Her face had a light complextion and looked soft and smooth. Her dark blue eyes stood out against her face, and her lips were turned into a confused smile, eyebrows also downwards, as though she wasn't happy to be where she was. But even with her face turned downcast, she was pretty. Hermione stood nearby, as though trying to be a welcoming prescence, but Ron and Harry shared a glance that secretly seemed to know that Hermione wasn't being helpful or welcoming, but more like a watchdog than anything.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione, this is Sara. I was going to tell you guys she was coming, but I didn't know when she was arriving, and I really wasn't supposed to tell." Mrs. Weasley smiled lightly at the confusion the faces of the boys, whereas Hermione acted like she completely knew it all. Sara obviously felt Hermione's aura of over confidence and didn't like it. She rolled her eyes when Hermione smiled and commented really loud about how it'd be nice to have another girl her age around.Ron felt a million questions rising in his chest.
"Why's she here?" He looked at his mum curiously. Mrs. Weasley breathed in a little.
"It's hard to explain, except..." She looked towards Sara's face, trying to think of a phrase that would cause the already upset girl more relaxation than if she just said 'Voldemort killed them.' "They were murdered over the summer. They, as in, her parents." She drew a sharp, short intake of breath and looked down once more at Sara. The soft face seemed unbroken, as though it was made of porcelain that couldn't crack, staring unmovingly at the ground. Mrs. Weasley kept speaking. "They were in contact with us, and when they stopped sending letters we learned about what happended. Sara here had no place to go...no family, sadly. Both parents were only children and only one grandparent who's rather..." She cleared her throat. "Unable, to say the least, to look after her. We were able to clear it with lawyers back where she lived in America to let her come with us."
Harry felt a pang of sympthy for her. When Mrs. Weasley said 'murdered' everyone knew that it meant Voldemort killed them. He wondered how she felt, with no family to go to whatsoever, to be stuck in a home with people she had probably never met before in her life. He thought it'd be rude to ask any questions, so he stayed quiet and tried to smile at Sara. He would definately try to talk to her later, for they seemed
"How long will she be here?" Ron kept on asking questions, and Mrs. Weasley kept answering them. Hermione had given up her quest with Sara and was talking to Tonks, who Ron joined shortly afterwords.
"Now, we just need Fred and George to arrive and everything will be settled." Mrs. Weasley huffed and sighed under her breath, the pressure of everyone in one house nervewracking.
Sara looked up a little, breaking the nothingness expression and lightly smiled back. Harry could tell it was a put-on smile, just to seem polite. He was used to making those himself, so he could relate to her, in a way.
"Now, dear, Harry will show her the room she's going to be staying in? The same one Ginny will, alright? Second to the left. Here." She levitated three trunks upstairs, and Sara herself carried one.
"Alright," Harry said, smiling back at Mrs. Weasley than to Sara. "I'll take this one for you." He took the trunk out of Sara's hand and carried it upstairs with her following behind. They reached the room and walked in, Harry setting down the trunk. Sara sat down on the bed.
"Finally. How do you deal with all that confusion?" She frowned a little, looking at him curiously. Her voice even sounded annoyed.
Harry laughed. "It's ritual when you come here. Trust me, you'll get used to it. This isn't where I normally stay, I'm only here for the last two weeks before school starts. You won't be here normally. Why, you don't like all that confusion?"
"Do I look like I do?" She laughed too. "It's frustrating. The only place I've seen it that bad was my fifteenth birthday party, and that was a big deal. So, school starts in two weeks?"
"Yeah." Harry paused for a moment. "You're attending with us? I mean, it's what I figured, but I wasn't sure. If you don't mind me asking, what do you plan to do this upcoming summer?" He looked at her, just sitting there. She seemed to be in thought, wondering, like she hadn't even been thinking about it.
"I don't know. Go back to New York, I guess. I'll probably have to come here again for the year after this, if I stay that long, because I can't go back to Salems' anymore." Sara turned to look outside. "Think it'll storm later?" A faint smile came across her lips and she turned back to Harry.
"I suppose. It's done that a lot this summer. How long have you been in England?"
"Two weeks before today. They just brought me here tonight, but I was staying with some other guy. His names Remus, he's here now. Know him? He said he used to be a professer at Hogwarts."
"Yeah, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts in my third year. The best teacher we ever had, I still wish he didn't quit. After this recent one, though, he might reconsider." He mumbled something about Professer Umbridge under his breath.
"Oh. I hope so too, he was nice. I didn't really talk to him though, or anyone at all, and he thought something was wrong. He contacted Mrs. Weasley. They seemed to think putting me in a house with a bunch of nuts would help, and well, I don't see how it has yet." She smiled at him.
"And what are you doing now?" Harry playfully smiled back.
"Talking to you."
"You're talking. Is that an improvement?" The smile played on his lips, and she had no choice but to grin.
"I suppose so."
The two both heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and Hermione entered the room. Instantly that grin left Sara's face, and Harry wondered if it would eventually return.
"Oh--hello, you two! Everyone started wondering where you guys went, and I figured it was upstairs, so I came to check." She looked out the window, frowning. "It's dark outside. I'm sick of all these storms. Aren't you, Harry?" She turned to him.
"Sort of. Falling asleep to rain's pretty easy though, if you think about it. Right?" He looked at Hermione, and she shrugged. Sara, meanwhile, was lazily looking out the window.
"I'm tired, and I think I'll be going to bed, alright?" She turned to the face the two, blue eyes peircing both of them. They were so--bright. Bright, but dark, if it made any sense at all.
"Sure. Sleep well, Sara! Coming, Harry?" She started walking out the door, waiting for him to follow.
"No, I'm going to stand here all night." He rolled his eyes, and turned to Sara one last time that night. "See you in the morning, Mrs. Chat-a-lot." He smiled at her one last time then exited the room too, shutting the door softly. Hermione and him headed downstairs, where the confusion was dying down. Fred, George, and Ginny had just arrived, but most of the other people had left. Mrs. Weasley was talking to them.
"Fred, George, same room as last time. Ginny, you're going to be staying in the room second on the left. Be quiet though, another girl is already up there, asleep, I presume. Try not to wake her up." Her eyes were direcltly pointed at Fred and George. "Ecspeically you two, keep it down."
"Who is it, mum?" Ginny looked at her mother with wonder. It couldn't be Hermione, for her and Harry just walked down the stairs.
"Sara. I'll explain tomorrow morning, alright? Don't ask questions, and get to bed."
Ginny started to complain, but in the end Mrs. Weasley won the arguement. Mr. Weasley was talking to Harry and Hermione.
"Is she nice? Remus said she was, but quiet. Barely spoke twenty words while she was there." He was eating a bagle, an unusual food for dinner. Maybe breakfast, but not dinner.
"Yeah. Plenty nice, but you're right. Quiet." The thunder started up again, along with lightning, and eventually a light drizzle of rain. Hermione scoffed, and Ron laughed.
"Once again, it rains. You don't seem to like it too much, do you, Hermione?"
"Not one bit." She sighed. "Oh well. I'm off to bed, see all of you in the morning." She walked away, Harry and Ron both telling her 'night' on her way out.
"I'm going to bed too. Coming, Harry?" Ron yawned, wondering how in the world he was awake when he felt like falling asleep where he was standing.
"Yeah," he said, looking out the window one last time at the now pouring rain, and laughing too himself at how everyone was so annoyed with it.
In the whole, though, it was just perfectly fine with him.
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