Shattering and Release

Author: Kellie
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and 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.
Summary: A tragic event leaves Harry shattered. Naturally, his two best friends want to help him... (R/Hr, R/Hr/H)
Archivist's note: After some arm-twisting, Kellie finally let me host this. It's Trio fic, emotional and loving. I don't know why it took so much arm-twisting! ;-)

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Cold dew seeped through the back of Harry Potter's robes, chilling him in the cold night air. A shiver ran through him but still he did not sit up. Still he laid spread out in the grass, staring up at the stars, like he had done so many nights in the last year. Staring at one star in particular. The one star that stood transfixed in the sky like a beacon, drawing Harry's eyes and locking them into place. One star. The dog star. Sirius.

Harry felt a familiar burning prick the corner of his eyes. A burning that he had become well acquainted with over the last twelve months. One that was so familiar that sometimes it could sneak up and overtake him, leaving him wretching with sobs, before he had even noticed that it had come.

It had been eleven months and fourteen days since his godfather had died. Since he had been killed by Death Eaters on Christmas Day of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Since the day that Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy and Avery Nott had burst into Remus Lupin's home during Christmas dinner. Harry recalled it in mixed up flashes of wavering memories.

Remus pouring five glasses of champagne. "That's all you get, you three. One glass each. The last thing we need is three pissed teenagers running around like mad people out in the snow." He chuckles, handing a glass to Sirius. Harry and his friends sipping the bubbly liquid eagerly.

A startling crash as the front door is smashed in.

The five of them laughing around the tree. The gorgeous tree, which Hermione had charmed so that it didn't even need lights. Every needle of the fragrant pine glowing from within. More laughter as Sirius forgot the words to "Deck the Halls" and made up some ridiculously silly ones in their place.

Snow blowing in on a frigid wind through the open entryway. Three hooded figures standing on the stoop. Hermione dropping her glass. The sound of it shattering. Replaying in his head. Over and over. Shattering. Shattering. Shattering.

Sirius carving the turkey. The aroma filling Harry's nose. He holds out his plate and Sirius supplies it with two slices of the beautifully browned bird.

Wormtail's voice. Cold and cruel and blindly arrogant. "We meet again, Padfoot."

Ron kissing Hermione under the mistletoe. Blushing before he pressed his lips to hers. Blushing under the scrutinizing gaze of the others, but then losing himself when their lips meet. Kissing her as if they are the only two people in the room. In the world. Remus catching Sirius' eye and smiling.

Sirius frozen in shock and rage. Remus motioning behind his back for the three teenagers to slip into the kitchen. Ron discreetly pushing Hermione behind him, inching towards the door. Harry firmly standing his ground.

Music. Sirius whirling Hermione around the living room. Demonstrating the Christmas Waltz. The others laugh at the gleam in his eye, his boisterous steps. Hermione's giggles.

Six wands drawn in the same instant. Standoff. "Don't be foolish, Moony," Wormtail says. "You're too pretty to play the hero. Haven't you learned that by now?" Sirius stepping forward determinedly. "Don't you speak to him," growled more than spoken through gritted teeth.

Champagne tickling Harry's nose as it slides down his throat. Seeing the room, blurry through the bottom of the glass.

Wormtail's eyes shifting to Harry. "And you...you. You think you are clever, escaping my master five times. You think you are invincible." Evil grin. "You will learn. But that is for another day. At my master's hands." Cold eyes snap back to Sirius. "I have my own purpose here today."

Shiny red paper and a silver bow. Quickly torn off. Two rings hanging on a gold chain. Slipping it over his head. "Your parents' wedding rings, Harry."

The light. The telltale flash of green. It comes so quickly, and then it's gone, and the intruders have disapparated. And Sirius has fallen to the floor.

Harry felt a raindrop on his hand, and he finally sat up. He brushed the tears from his cheeks and rose, heading back to the castle. The rain started to fall in heavier drops, splattering his face, and then all of a sudden, it was a torrential sheet of ice cold spray, slamming into every inch of exposed skin with stinging ferocity. He broke into a run and dashed up the stairs, skidding into the entrance hall. He stopped on the thick rug, knowing that Filch would hunt him down if he dripped on the castle floors. He pulled out his wand and muttered a few words, just enough to stop the dripping, but not to dry him completely. He needed them to ask. He needed to hear their concern, see it in their eyes. He needed so much from them now. To know that they cared. That not everyone who cared about him had been taken away.

Harry sludged his way up to Gryffindor Tower, and past the portrait of the fat lady. The common room was full, but he didn't see them anywhere. Dozens of eyes followed him, but they weren't the ones he needed. They didn't look at him the same way - not with the love and nurturing that he now needed like food - but only with a selfishly morbid curiosity. He passed straight through the common room to his dorm on the first floor - the room given to the Head Boy that Harry had refused to accept unless Ron was allowed to move in too. Dumbledore had relented.

Harry poked his head in, but Ron was not inside. He circled back around the stairs to the Head Girl's room and paused. He knew they might be in there together, and he didn't want to walk in on anything...indecent. But he noticed that the door wasn't latched, just pushed close with a small sliver of light showing through. He pushed it open cautiously and froze.

God, they were beautiful.

Ron and Hermione stood in the middle of the room wrapped in a tight embrace. Hermione was wearing a silky ivory nightgown, Ron nothing but his flannel pajama bottoms, and his arms were around her, holding her close as he murmured something in her ear. She giggled through her lips as she pressed them to Ron's bicep, leaving a trail of kisses up to his shoulder.

Harry was about to turn and go when Hermione looked up. She met his eyes. And he saw it.

And he felt release.

She stepped back from Ron, who turned around, puzzled, but when he saw Harry it was in his eyes too.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then she held out her arms. He stumbled across the room and into them, and she drew him close, murmuring soothing words, like she always did. He clutched at the soft fabric of her nightgown, needing to feel the reality of her, needing to know that she hadn't somehow gone away too.

Ron laid a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder, and met Hermione's questioning eyes. He nodded.

Harry relaxed further at Ron's simple touch, the simple reassurance. Then, slowly, reality floated back into place and Harry realized with a start that he was feeling Hermione's lips brushing gently against his jaw. And then they were on his neck, lightly kissing the spot just beneath his ear, and he stepped back with shock.

"What...what are you doing?" He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he had just been in the arms of his best friend's girlfriend, with her lips on him, with said best friend standing only a foot away. But Ron wasn't even reacting.

Her eyes were full of compassion. "You need this, Harry," she whispered tenderly, as though it should have been obvious.

"N-need what?"

"To feel love." She brought her hand up to his face, staring into his eyes as she traced her fingers across his cheekbone and down to his lips, and all the while Ron's hand never left his shoulder. "To know that we love you." Her lips left trails of loving kisses across his neck, under his chin, up the curve of his jaw, over his cheek. And then suddenly her lips were on his, and his shock melted into wonder as she gently nudged his lip with her velvet tongue, and his mouth slipped open, seemingly of its own accord. And then slowly, hesitantly, he kissed her back. He felt Ron move in behind him, wrapping them both in a warm embrace, but Harry shivered and drew away.

"I'm...I'm getting you both all wet."

"You're freezing," Hermione said, reaching up to unfasten his robe. Ron's hands moved in between to aid her, and when Harry's robe was open, Hermione slipped her hands inside, sliding the wet garment up and off his shoulders. It fell to the floor and Ron kicked it aside. They resumed their positions, and Harry immediately felt himself warming up. Body heat radiated off of Ron's bare chest and Hermione's lips.

Harry found himself getting lost in this, in these sensations, as his friends comforted him in this new and deepest of ways. His hands found Hermione's shoulders tentatively, and he ran them over her shoulder blades and down her back. Ron's hands went around Hermione's waist and he drew her in closer, so that she was pressed tightly against Harry, who in response leaned back into Ron's strong and welcoming frame. Hermione pulled her lips from Harry's and he almost felt bereft as they settled onto his neck again. Her lips teased the sensitive skin with the lightest and most fluttering of touches. He tilted his head back involuntarily, giving her easier access, and he felt Ron's breath hot and moist in his ear.

"Do you want this, Harry?" he asked with surprising tenderness. "Whatever you want..."

Harry's heart was pounding madly in his chest. He couldn't believe this. Surely this wasn't happening. Surely he wasn't standing here, being kissed and touched and caressed by his two best friends. By *Hermione* and...and *RON*. And now they were offering...were offering what exactly?

"I don't know," he moaned helplessly. "Are...are you sure?"

"We are," Ron said. "We just want to show you...But it's all for you. It's your choice."

Hermione's lips left him, and she moved in close, hugging him to her, and they just stood there, holding him and waiting.

And then, ever so gently, Hermione's teeth caught his earlobe, and he gasped as something low inside him stirred.

"Yes."

Ron's hands immediately went to Harry's waist, gathering his shirt up and out of the waistband of his pants. They all stepped apart for a second, and Harry almost moaned in protest, but as soon as Ron had rid him of his shirt, they were back, in earnest this time.

Ron took over on Harry's neck, tracing his lips from shoulder to shoulder, as Hermione moved down his chest, dipping her head to flick her tongue across his right nipple. He shivered. Four gentle hands slid across his chest, down his stomach, around his back, fingertips tentatively slipping just inside the waistband of his pants. He couldn't be sure whose they were.

Hermione looked up into Harry's eyes and paused. He tried to tell her. Tried to tell her without words that he needed more of this, more of this comfort, more of this reassurance, more of them. She seemed to hear him, and she slid her lips around his nipple, drawing it into her mouth and sucking slightly, eliciting a low moan. She dropped to her knees and ran her tongue across his stomach, tracing the lines of the muscles there.

Soft hands were sliding into the back of his pants, and Harry knew this time that they were Ron's, because he didn't feel his arms around him anymore. Ron's fingertips gently circled around to the front, tickling the soft flesh below Harry's waist, and Harry felt Hermione's hands climbing up the back of his legs, over his bottom, and he shivered again. She tugged on the beltloops, sending Ron a silent message, and Ron quickly and deftly unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down. Hermione hooked her fingers over the waistband, sliding Harry's pants all the way down to his ankles in a single, swift motion. He stepped out of them, and Ron kicked those aside too.

Then her fingers were at the elastic of his boxers, and a sudden wave of nervousness washed over him at the knowledge of what she would find inside - what no one except himself had ever witnessed. He could feel his erection, hard and hot, and already throbbing. But whatever lingering doubts Harry still had vanished without a trace when Ron bravely lifted a hand around Harry's face and to his cheek, turning his head back towards himself. Before Harry even had time to register what he was doing, Ron leaned his head in and sealed his mouth over Harry's.

Harry had never imagined himself kissing Ron, but if he had, it certainly wouldn't have been anything like this. Ron's lips were petal soft, the motions of his tongue painfully tender and gentle, but commanding all at the same time. It was intoxicating - and he suddenly understood why Hermione was always dragging Ron off to some secret cupboard or hidden nook. Harry only noticed that his boxers were gone when the warm fabric of Ron's pants brushed softly against his bare flesh, and then Ron pulled away, drawing a protesting groan out of Harry's throat as he did.

"Don't worry," Ron whispered with a smile. "We're just getting started."

Harry was shocked at his own sudden aching need for them, his gaping, ravenous hunger for more, and he almost begged them for mercy when Ron reached around Harry, pulling Hermione away by the hand. They stepped a bit away, and all at once Harry felt cold and painfully alone in the absence of their touch. He watched as Ron slid his arms around Hermione's waist, pulling her to him and brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered something into it. She nodded, smiling, and murmured something back, and then he smiled too, and he gathered her nightgown up around her waist and then pulled it over her head. She whispered something again, and after a light, quick kiss on Ron's lips, she turned back to Harry.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of her. She was impossibly beautiful in this state, more for her sweet smile and warm eyes than for any skin or breast or curve of hip or nestle of hair, although she did take his breath away in her entirety.

She stepped forward, taking his hand, and she drew it up, pressing her lips to his palm. "Come on, love," she said, pulling him in the direction of the bed.

Harry looked up at Ron questioningly, hesitantly, and Ron nodded. "It's okay. Go on."

She laid back onto the bed, drawing Harry on top of her, and he gasped, unable to articulate with words the onslaught of emotion at the feeling of her skin against his, the first contact with his erection as it brushed against her hip, the delirious sweetness of her slender arms going around him.

"We love you, Harry," she breathed into his ear. "Never, ever doubt it." She pushed against him, rolling them over so that their positions were reversed, and she pressed her lips against his. Their first kisses had been slow and soft, but this time she kissed him with vigor, urgent and needy, and he felt her hips lift up, and her hand go around his shaft. A quiet moan rose from deep within his throat, and then escaped loudly into her mouth when she quickly guided him into place and sank all the way onto him.

"Oh...God!" he cried as she drew her lips away to sit up properly, and she hadn't even moved yet, just sat letting him get used to the feeling of her hot and satiny walls enveloping him.

And then, slowly, she began to rock in place, and he cried out again, his hands clutching restlessly at the sheets, and then scurrying up her arms to tangle in her hair. Then he was suddenly aware of Ron's presence, his voice in his ear, and Harry realized that he had climbed up on the bed next to them.

"She's amazing, isn't she?" he whispered, almost in awe.

"Yes...yes..." and he brought his hands down over her shoulders, realizing that he had been completely neglecting her, and cupped a breast in each hand, squeezing gently. Hermione moaned and Harry shivered, his already mind-numbing arousal growing at the realization that he had drawn a reaction out of her. His hips bucked against her, but there was little room, as she was barely moving up and down. She increased the depth of her movements, and he bucked upwards again.

"Hermione," Ron said softly. "He needs to-"

"I know," and she hooked her feet under his knees and rolled them over again, so that Harry was on top. "Go ahead," she breathed, her eyes locked onto his. "Let go."

And he began to thrust. Slow and gentle at first, but then he found that he just couldn't hold back, and he groaned in frustration at not being able to move fast enough.

"Just let it go, Harry," Hermione said. "I can take it," and she slid her arms around his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he rammed into her. Her breasts heaved with every thrust, and he couldn't suppress his yells, and then Hermione was crying out too, with every lunge. He knew he was getting close, and then Ron was behind him, leaning over his shoulder.

"Relax, Harry. Just relax. Slow down. You want it to last."

Harry slowed down his rhythm and took several deep breaths, pushing the tingling away, and when it had subsided, began thrusting again, a little slower, a little shallower. He felt Ron slip an arm under his waist, helping to hold him up so that he could just melt into these feelings and sensations, and then Ron's free hand was massaging in circles the soft flesh of his cheeks.

"Harry, what do you need?" he asked gently. "Do you need to just feel the release? Or do you need more?"

Harry moaned his indecision. It was agony to not just let himself soar over the edge, but...it was wonderful. And then he gasped in surprise as he felt Ron probing a fingertip around his most sensitive and private of places, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against his opening. "Do you need more, Harry?"

Ron eased the tip of his finger barely inside and ripples of pleasure washed over Harry. He slowed his rhythm further, to prolong the inevitable as long as possible, and whispered, "Please."

"Hermione-" Ron started.

"I have it," she gasped, flinging an arm out and yanking the drawer of the nightstand open. She passed Ron a small tube, and for a minute, Ron's hands left him. But then the arm was back around his waist, and as Harry pulled back from a thrust into Hermione, a slick finger slid easily inside him. A shuddering groan escaped him, and Hermione wiggled further down, to get in a better position, closer to Ron. And Harry thrust again, into Hermione, out onto Ron's finger.

Oh, this was maddening, this myriad of sensations and ecstasies, and he felt more loved in this moment than he ever had in his entire life.

He drew back from Hermione again, and two fingers went inside him this time, stretching. It burned, it ached, and yet he needed it. On his next thrust he pulled completely out of her, trying to impale himself as deeply as possible.

"Do it." Harry could barely form the words.

"Hang on," Ron said, sliding a third finger in, spreading them as far as he could, stretching hastily. God, it hurt.

And then his hand was gone again. "No!" Harry screamed, slamming back into Hermione, all the way to the hilt in a single motion. She shrieked to the ceiling.

"It's all right, it's all right," Ron whispered, moving into position. "We're ready."

And then Harry felt something much larger than Ron's fingers pressing against his opening. His eyes widened. God, he wanted it. But how on earth?

Hermione pulled herself up to kiss Harry softly on the lips. "It's okay, just relax. He's so gentle. You'll feel amazing."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Harry relaxed into Hermione, who stroked his hair reassuringly, and Ron slowly and carefully pushed the head of his penis just inside. Harry moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, and again, he had to consciously will himself not to come. Ron had paused, and when the sensation passed, Harry suddenly bucked backwards, taking all of Ron's length inside him at once. He screamed in the agony and ecstasy of it all, and he felt his muscles clamp around Ron, who let out a deep cry of his own. But Ron was patient, and didn't move at first, allowing Harry a chance to get used to the peculiar sensation of being filled. When the pain subsided, Harry was overtaken by a pleasure so intense he thought surely he might die, and he let out a desperate whimper. Ron began to thrust. Slow and shallow at first, and then harder. Harry pressed deeply into Hermione, and then let Ron take over, his powerful thrusting enough for both of them. And then finally, finally, he could hold back no longer. The tingling began at his toes, and this time he didn't fight it, and when it washed over him, he exploded in a powerful torrent, and Hermione gasped at the feeling of the hot liquid shooting into her. Harry cried out as the shuddering orgasm ravaged his body, and then he felt himself falling, falling into peaceful oblivion. Ron had slowed his thrusts, and finally pulled out.

"Hermione..." Harry murmured, slipping out of her and rolling back onto the bed. "Hermione didn't..."

Ron leaned over Harry and kissed him suddenly and deeply, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling hot tears leaking out from under his lashes. When Ron pulled back, he brushed the tears gently away. "I'll take care of that," he whispered, with one last, quick kiss.

Ron moved quickly and comfortably in between Hermione's legs, and she welcomed him with those incredible arms, and a deep, loving kiss of her own. When she broke off the kiss, he moved swiftly down, obviously knowing what she liked, and flicked his tongue over her pulsing bud. She shuddered, and Harry watched as Ron expertly brought her close to the edge with just a few soft brushes of his tongue, and some quick and sudden suction.

"You too," she breathed, and he moved back up her, sinking into her and thrusting fast and hard. They came within seconds of each other, gasping as they gripped one another tightly.

"I love you," Hermione whispered once he ceased his movements. He looked deeply into her eyes, and then kissed her passionately.

"I can't say that anymore," Ron said when he pulled away. "Because it's not enough. There are no words..."

She smiled, and brushed his hair back off his sweaty forehead, planting a light kiss on this tip of his nose. He slipped out of her, and turned to Harry, who was still panting in his recovery. He kissed him quickly on the side of his mouth, maneuvering over him and spooning up behind him, letting him face Hermione, who snuggled into his arms. She pushed back his hair too, brushing her lips against his scar. "How do you feel?" she whispered.

"Incredible," he said sleepily. "Like I've been released from prison."

"I'm glad."

He reached for her hand, and pressed her fingers to his lips. "Thank you both."

Ron draped an arm around him and lightly kissed his shoulder. "Any time."

Tangling their legs together, and making sure they were all being touched, they drifted off into a magical, peaceful slumber.

(End)

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