Rain

He was freezing. His shirt clung to him in wet folds; his hair was matted from the rain. Hell, even the insides of his shoes were wet! The cold seeped into his mind, too. Soon he would have to go inside. But he wouldn't until she came home. When he saw her pull up outside, then he would allow himself to come in from the dreadful rain.

Harry wrapped his arms around himself, looking over the balcony to the pool below. The veranda was usually a lovely spot. But when it rained, it was not the place to be. He knew it, but he also knew that he wouldn't go inside until he saw his girlfriend coming up the driveway. If she was coming. No, he thought, she's coming back; she has to. Hermione always came back, even when she was mad at him.

What had he done to upset her this time? Why had she lost her patience with him this morning? It was a simple enough question. But he didn't know why she'd left. He didn't know what he'd done this time, but surely it had to be something bad, for her to dash off like that without saying a word to him. Maybe he hadn't done anything. It might be that time of the month again. But she wasn't usually like this, so he knew something had to be wrong.

Harry perked up as he saw her car pulling into the driveway. She was home. He rushed inside, stripping off his shirt and pants and changing into some other, drier clothes. He didn't bother ripping a comb through his hair, preferring instead to rub his hair partially dry with a towel. Harry pelted down the stairs, tripping over Crookshanks in his hurry to see Hermione. He skidded to a stop in front of her.

"You're home," he said happily, grinning at her.

"I know." She sighed and ran a hand through her thick hair. "I just..."

"You left so suddenly this morning. I didn't know what was wrong. I thought maybe I had done something to...upset you."

"No, no, Harry." Hermione shook her head, "You didn't do anything. I just needed some time alone to think things over. Harry. I need to talk to you. Come sit down." She took his hand and led him to the couch, pulling them down to sit side by side.

"All right, Hermione. What do you need to talk about?" He was starting to feel pangs of anxiety in his gut.

"This morning, I...I found out something."

"Oh. Okay. What?"

"I'm pregnant."

"You're what?"

"Pregnant. With your child."

Harry stared at her, dumbstruck. This meant...they would get married. He'd be a father, she'd be a mother. His wife. He would have a son. Harry could not imagine life as a married man with a son. Surely it could be no better than his life now.

"I'm going to be a father," he whispered, looking deep into her eyes. She nodded. "You're...we're...Oh. Wow. This is--great. Spectacular."

Hermione smiled at him, nodding. "I thought so too. I was just worried how you were going to take it. Thanks for being so...understanding."

"What's there to understand? I love you, I think you love me too, and we're about to become parents. It's great." He took her hands in his and kissed her softly.

"I do love you," she whispered. "I do."