Title: Solace
Author: writerwannabe
Prompt: Rain
Word Count: 3869

Notes: Written for the livejournal community, flashficrhr. Comments and Constructive Criticism are much appreciated.

A/N: Special thanks to PigWithHair for the excellent beta work!

Hermione sat in her study surrounded by papers and magical law and regulation books. She opened a tattered, thick and dusty tome, flipping through the pages in an attempt to find a rather obscure by-law that was passed almost a century ago. It would prove to be an invaluable aid in her continuing efforts to free indentured creatures.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the garden out back and Hermione turned to watch as the late summer storm picked up in intensity. Driving rain and howling winds lashed against the window panes and roof. The resounding crash of thunder rattled the shutters and Hermione held her breath for a long moment, hoping that the noise hadn't woken Rose. The seven–month-old had begun teething and was having a terrible time of it. Silence prevailed in the wake of the thunder and Hermione sighed with relief that she would be able to work for a little while longer without interruption. She glanced up at the clock and sighed.

Ron was already fifteen minutes late coming home from work and he had yet to contact her. While it was fairly common for him to extend his shift, he almost always sent a message ahead so that she wouldn't worry.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly, Hermione tipped her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that a few minutes of quiet reflection would help in preventing the headache that she could feel forming behind her eyes.

She must have fallen asleep for the next thing Hermione knew almost an hour had passed by. She craned her neck to figure out what it was that must have woken her. The rain still fell steadily, punctuated by random flashes of light and bursts of sound. Then she heard it: the unmistakable sound of the front door magically unlocking. The heavy oak door opened with a somewhat muted squeak, followed closely by the heavy shuffling of familiar boots.

"Ron?" she called out. She checked the clock once more, frowning at her husband's tardiness. Marking her place in the texts, Hermione carefully stood and stepped away from the cluttered desk. She tilted her head from side to side, grimacing at the various cracks and pops the motion produced. Perhaps she could convince Ron to rub her shoulders after eating his dinner.

Hermione made her way through the darkened hallway to the kitchen where she expected to find Ron eagerly digging through the pot of beef stew that she had left on the cooker to warm. There was nothing more predictable than Ron's stomach after a long day at work. So she was quite surprised to find the room empty.

"Ron?" A quick check in the hall confirmed Ron's presence as his muddy boots and work gloves were strewn across the floor in a wet heap. Shaking her head, Hermione placed them in their proper spots so that neither she nor Ron would trip over them.

"Ron?" As her call remained unanswered she began to feel the tiniest niggling in the back of her mind and almost wished that she hadn't left her wand in her bedroom. She didn't doubt that it was Ron in the house; the wards that had been placed around their cottage were very strong. Even though Voldemort was no longer a threat, some of those who believed in his twisted ideals were still unaccounted for and Ron took no chance of them ever touching his family.

She climbed the stairs silently, mindful of Rose sleeping down the landing. Slipping into her bedroom, Hermione sighed. He wasn't there, nor was he in the attached bathroom. Grabbing her wand from the dressing table she left the room, passing the guest bedroom and finally coming to the nursery.

Ron was standing next to Rose's cot, one hand clenched tightly around the top bar of the cot while the other reached down to gently sift through her silky, ginger curls. Hermione leant against the open doorway, too afraid to call out to him lest she wake their daughter. A flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly, and Hermione could see that her husband was dripping from head to toe. His hair was plastered to his head, his fringe nearly obscuring his vibrant blue eyes. His heavy cloak hung close to his body, while his jumper and trousers clung to his skin. His head was bowed, and it looked as if his tight grasp on the cot was the only thing keeping him upright.

Confused and concerned, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ron, sensing her presence, turned his head at the same moment. Their eyes met and Hermione took an unconscious step forward. Ron held up a hand to stop her, glancing down at Rose who shifted a bit in her sleep. Once she settled back down, he turned and crossed the room, taking Hermione's hand in his own and led her out into the hallway.

"Ron, what—?" Ron's lips came crashing down against her own, and she staggered until her back hit the wall hard, dropping her wand to the floor. Ron pressed his body forward, pinning her there as his hands delved under clothes in search of skin. She turned her head to the side, breaking the kiss, panting as Ron latched onto her neck, sucking hard at her pulse point.

"Oh…God…" She moaned as one of his hands found a lace covered breast and squeezed. His hands were so very cold, and she shivered as they left a trail of goose bumps on her overheated skin. His pelvis tilted and made delicious contact with her own, and Hermione couldn't help but push against him. One leg rose of its own accord, hooking around Ron's thigh, pulling him impossibly closer. He grunted in response, his hand leaving her back to grasp under her knee, lifting it higher until it settled around the curve of his arse. The other followed suit and he hoisted her up, holding her against the wall, rubbing his thigh against her intimately.

Hermione was overwhelmed. She threaded her hands into Ron's wet hair, twisting the shaggy locks and scratching at his scalp, desperate for him to move again. She could do little more than hold on tight as he stumbled backwards and down the landing to their bedroom.

They crashed into the door frame, but neither paid any heed as Ron carried her over to the bed. They fell together, Ron's heavier body trapping her to the mattress. She moaned helplessly as his hand slipped under her skirt to press against her knickers.

"R—Ron!" She grabbed at his cloak, fisting the sodden material in one hand while the other pulled at his neck.

Ron lifted his head for only a moment before returning to Hermione's lips, kissing her with total, reckless abandon. His tongue swept through her mouth possessively, brushing against her own, before retreating to tease her bottom lip. Hermione attempted to return the favor, but she was too late as Ron left her lips and began to trail wet kisses across her jaw and down the delicate slope of her neck. He shifted lower, his trembling fingers working at the buttons holding her shirt closed. She brought her hands around to help, but he batted them away impatiently. He latched onto the ends of the fabric and pulled hard, sending uncooperating buttons flying across the room and baring Hermione's heaving chest to his hungry eyes. He wasted no time in touching her newly exposed skin, burning a path with his hands and mouth. Hermione bucked frantically under him, aching to feel the friction that had left her breathless just minutes before. She reached down and tugged on Ron's wet jumper, but he pushed her hands away from his body, holding them captive above her head and pressed his body forward.

Hermione whimpered as his wet clothes came into contact with her skin. She could feel the toned muscles of his chest and abdomen through the fabric, and she longed to touch him the way he was touching her. His hand returned to her knickers, this time to slide the material down her legs before bunching her skirt up over her hips. He fumbled with the zipper on his trousers, cursing under his breath when it wouldn't open. His arms trembled as the zipper finally broke and he pushed his trousers and boxers down enough to free himself, not even bothering to remove them completely. Then he shifted and drove his entire body forward.

Hermione cried out as he entered her without warning, her hands scrambling to find purchase on the sheets. Her knees came up to cradle his torso, the heels of her feet digging into the small of his back as his hips slammed roughly into hers.

"Oh!" She gasped as his mouth found her breast and nipped at the puckered flesh through the material of her bra.

It was all too much. The pleasurable pain from his relentless rhythm left her dizzy and breathless and frantic for release. She tightened her stranglehold on the sheets as she felt herself building so hard and so fast that she feared that her pounding heart would give in on her. Letting out a hoarse cry as she peaked, Hermione shuddered and tightened around him.

Ron strained above her, mumbling incoherently into her skin, his hips jerking wildly. His eyes were clenched shut, and his face twisted in what some would misinterpret as pain. But Hermione knew better; she gripped his cloth covered body tightly as she lowered her mouth to his shoulder and bit down hard. Ron growled in response, his hands clutching at her waist convulsively as he stiffened and came. He continued to move, thrusting shallowly in time with his harsh breathing, until he finally stilled inside her. The strength in his arms gave out, and he collapsed onto her body. Hermione pulled him close, ignoring the chill of his wet clothes as his head dropped to rest against her chest. Hermione waited until their breathing slowed before hesitantly running her fingers through his damp hair.

"Ron?"

His head shot up as he stared at her wide eyed and panic stricken. He scrambled off of her body, almost falling to the floor in his haste. Hermione sat up quickly, her hands reaching out to steady him.

"Ron, what's wrong?" she asked urgently.

"I'm s—sorry ," he mumbled, staring down at her body. "I shouldn't have…I…I…Fuck!" His hands shook as he brought them to her shirt and attempted to button it back up. But it was a lost cause since most of the buttons had been torn off. He dropped to his knees on the floor, gathering up as many as he could find in the darkness.

Hermione looked down at him in shock.

"Ron stop…it's okay…we'll find the rest tomorrow."

Ron didn't listen and spent the next five minutes in silence, crawling around the bedroom until he retrieved all of the missing buttons. He stood shakily and pressed them into her open palm before backing away. Hermione watched transfixed as he ran his hands through his hair roughly, pulling at the ginger strands and groaning under his breath. Dropping the buttons back on the floor, she crossed the room and cupped his face in her hands, tilting it so she could see him. She was beyond shocked to find tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"Ron, you're scaring me," she whispered. "What's happened?"

"I—I didn't mean to," he answered haltingly. "I can't believe…I'm so sorry." He stepped away from her and turned, rushing into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, the lock engaging with a definitive click. In all their years together, they had never, ever locked the door to the bathroom.

"What in the world…?" she said to herself, concernedly.

A piercing cry came from down the landing and Hermione was torn between tending to her fussy daughter and her obviously stricken husband. She heard the shower running and, realizing that there was little that she could do until he came out, made her way to the nursery.

Rose had rolled herself over onto her stomach, her tiny fists shaking as her feet kicked at the blankets in agitation. Hermione carefully lifted the infant into her arms, holding her close to her body.

"There there, Rosie," she cooed softly. "It's all right. Everything's okay now. Mummy's here." The baby's cries lessened as Hermione rocked her gently. She placed her finger in Rose's mouth, feeling along her gums. The baby instinctively bit down and Hermione felt the sharp point of a tooth emerging from the swollen flesh. "You poor thing," she whispered as Rose started to cry once more. "Shh, don't cry sweetheart."

She carried her out of the room and into the landing to where her wand lay forgotten. Picking it up, she returned to the nursery and cast a cooling charm on Rose's dummy. It seemed to do the trick at Rose sucked on it greedily, her eyes drooping shut as sleep claimed her once more. Hermione placed her back in the cot and pulled the blanket back over her small body before quietly making her way out of the room.

The bedroom was still empty when she returned and the water still ran from behind the locked door. Ron wasn't one to take long showers so she knocked hesitantly. When he didn't answer, Hermione unlocked the door with a flick of her wand and poked her head inside. She stumbled back out as a billowing cloud of steam escaped the room through the crack in the door.

"Ron?"

"Go away," he mumbled from behind the shower curtain. Instead Hermione walked further inside the room, stepping over the pile of wet clothes on the floor as she made her way to the tub. Drawing the curtain aside, she gasped. Ron sat huddled at the far end of the tub, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head buried in his crossed arms. His skin was tinged an unhealthy shade of pink and Hermione quickly adjusted the spray of the shower to a more tolerable temperature.

"Ron, that's blistering hot. What were you thinking?"

He kept his face shielded from view. "I sorry," he said. "I'll pack some things and stay over at the Burrow until you decide what you want to do."

"You'll what?" Hermione asked, completely thrown for a loop. She sat on the edge of the tub. "I don't understand."

"I didn't think you'd want me around," he stammered, finally raising his head to look at her. "Not after that." He waved his hand, gesturing towards the bedroom.

"That?" Hermione repeated, still at a loss. "Ron, you're not making sense. What exactly did you do?"

"I forced you," he gritted out between clenched teeth, turning his head away. "How could you even look at me?"

"No, you did no such thing," Hermione insisted emphatically. "How could you say that?"

"What would you call it then?" he replied bitterly.

Hermione glanced at the mirror, deciding that a little levity was needed in the situation. "I'd say that you thoroughly shagged your wife," she answered with a small smile. "Most people would say 'job well done.'"

"That's not funny."

"Neither is thinking that you took me against my will," she exclaimed.

"That's not 'us,'" he whispered brokenly. "We didn't even get out of our clothes. It's not supposed to be like that."

Hermione shut off the tap and stepped inside the shower, kneeling next to him. "I could have done with fewer clothes," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy it. Ron, I love making love with you...under any condition." She placed her hand under his chin and lifted his head. "I don't regret what happened."

"I should have been more gentle." He sighed. "You cried out."

"I'm not going to break," she informed him. "And I cried out because I was surprised. Not because you hurt me in any way." She paused. "But I need to know what happened tonight."

"I told you, I—"

"No." Hermione interrupted. "Not about what we did. You were late coming home from work. And when I watched you in Rose's room, I could see that you were upset." She brought one of his hands to her mouth and kissed his palm. "You still are."

"I…I had a bad day at work."

"Obviously," Hermione chided softly. "Can you tell me why? It's not like you to get so worked up over a case like this." Ron nodded hesitantly. "Come on," she said, pulling him up to stand. She reached over and grabbed a towel, throwing it over his shoulders. She left him to dry off and retreated back to the bedroom. Crossing over to the wardrobe, she pulled out a pair of worn sweatpants and a nightdress. She had just slipped the satin garment over her head when a pair of arms circled her from behind. She leaned back against Ron's bare chest and smiled as he nuzzled the back of her neck.

"I'm a prat," he whispered in her ear, pulling up his pyjamas.

"No more than usual," she teased as she led him over to the bed. Ron settled under the covers and held out his arm invitingly. Hermione snuggled close, resting her head on his shoulder while the fingers of one hand traced through the sparse ginger hair scattered across his chest. She kept up her ministrations for a while, thinking that he had fallen asleep until his low voice tickled her ear.

"Adrian Simmons," said Ron, his voice devoid of emotion. "He was suspected of buying dodgy, possibly dangerous, wares from Borgin & Burkes. We had been monitoring him for the past week, taking note of his whereabouts, as well as who he had been in contact with." He sighed. "Harry and I were hiding in the bushes tonight slipping extendible ears through a small gap in a window when we heard him Apparate into the kitchen. Simmons was in a fine mood, slamming doors and smashing objects, all the while grumbling under his breath about packing up to leave. Then we received a message from headquarters informing us that Simmons was to be brought in for questioning surrounding the murder of a Ministry official. When we went into the house…"

Hermione felt his body tensing beneath her, and she lifted her head from his shoulder. "What happened?" she asked gently.

"He had been harboring six fugitives, and when we entered a fight broke out. They weren't willing to go back to Azkaban and started sending killing curses our way." Ron broke off, hearing Hermione's gasp. "Simmons had a family: a wife, son…and a baby girl." He let out a ragged breath. "She was hit in the crossfire somehow. She didn't make it."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione cried, reaching up to cup his cheek with her hand.

"Simmons didn't put up a fight after that. It was awful. We eventually took control of the situation and rounded up the two surviving fugitives, as well as Simmons and his family. Our team was told to go home once the scene was secured and we were debriefed, but we didn't feel comfortable doing that, so Parker suggested we unwind a bit at the pub." He paused. "We found a Muggle pub not too far from headquarters. We were hoping to avoid anyone who might have heard about what had happened. But that didn't stop us from dwelling on it, and we eventually went our separate ways, not really in the mood to celebrate what was considered a 'successful mission.' I didn't have any Floo powder on me and I forgot my money back at headquarters, so I started walking home."

"In the pouring rain?" she asked. "Ron, that's more than three miles away."

"I couldn't Apparate," he said softly. "My hands were shaking so badly, I knew that I'd splinch myself if I tried."

Hermione hitched herself up a bit more and used the hand cradling his cheek to pull him into a kiss.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. She settled back down, placing her head back on his shoulder and brought her arm across his chest, hugging him fiercely.

"It's just…" Ron swallowed hard. "She looked so much like Rosie and for a moment during the fight I…"

"Shh." Hermione soothed him as he started to choke up. She sat up against the headboard and pulled him into a hug. "It wasn't, Ron. It wasn't Rose."

"I needed to get home…needed to see for myself that she was fine," he whispered brokenly. "So I started running and running. I don't even remember how I got upstairs. I was just suddenly there looking down at her while she slept." He swallowed hard. "But it still didn't feel real. I needed it to feel real. And I turned and saw you standing in the doorway."

"I saw it in your eyes," Hermione told him. "When you looked up, I knew something was wrong." She pressed her lips against his temple. "What happened between us wasn't wrong. You found comfort in our love for one another."

"Yeah, but—"

"No," she interrupted. "It means a lot to me that you were able to express that need. That you didn't try to hide it or push it off, because you were afraid to repulse or hurt me."

"I love you," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"I love you, too, "Hermione replied. "Why don't we turn in early tonight? I don't know about you, but I'm completely exhausted for some reason."

Ron grinned slightly at her teasing tone. "Sounds like a fine idea to me."

They settled under the covers, trading gentle kisses and comforting caresses. After ten minutes or so, Ron finally spoke up. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we bring her in here?" he asked. "Just for tonight?"

Hermione squeezed the hand that she was holding. "I'll be right back." She slipped out of bed and walked out of the bedroom. A few minutes later she returned, carrying a wriggling bundle. Ron held open the covers as Hermione perched at the edge of the bed. "No, budge over this way," she said, waiting until he settled in the middle of the bed before reaching across his body to place Rose on the far side. She slipped under the covers and gently pushed at his near shoulder until he rolled over to face their daughter, allowing her to drape her arm around him as she spooned him from behind.

The infant blinked sleepily up at Ron before yawning widely, her legs kicking out a bit as she did so. He watched in silence as she lost the struggle to keep her eyes open, falling asleep with the charmed dummy in her mouth. Satisfied that she wouldn't wake, Ron placed his arm across her body, making sure that she wouldn't roll over in her sleep.

"Hermione?" Ron craned his head around, careful not to disturb Rose. "I'm sorry about—"

Hermione captured his lips in a kiss, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking his stubble roughened skin.

"Shh," she whispered. "No more apologies. I trust you, Ron. With Rose. With me. With us." She kissed him again, before tugging him down to lay back against the pillow. "Trust me with this." She pressed her hand against his heart. "As long as we have each other, everything else will fall into place." She snuggled closer, gently running her fingers through the smattering of hair across his chest until she heard his breathing even out in sleep. Her eyes drifted shut, and the last thought that Hermione had before joining her family in slumber was how truly lucky she felt having them in her life.