Wings by blazefury

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 11/03/2003
Last Updated: 11/03/2003
Status: Completed

The second installment of Outlets; Harry has pure release in the joys of flying and in that he
finds joy and freedom as well as the need for understanding of his flight and his love to
Hermione.




1. Wings
--------

**Title:** Wings
**Author name:** blazefury
**Author email:** le_femme_Y@hotmail.com
**Category:** Romance
**Keywords:** Harry Hermione
**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** The second installment of Outlets; Harry has pure release in the joys of flying and
in that he finds joy and freedom as well as the need for understanding of his flight and his love
to Hermione.

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and some 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. Though primary characters and most other characters are copyright J.K.
Rowling, some characters are copyright the author and if you wish to use them please ask before
hand.

**Author's Notes**: To Dauphin and people from PPMT.

**He tips the wooden handle down, the wooden twigs barely rustling behind him…**

The unexpected weight of the world was thrown upon his shoulders without a backward glance and
he never expected to be the saviour of a world he knew absolutely nothing off. He felt the burden
of being a nobody, an inconsistency, treated like rubbish; within a second he was shifted off the
position and had a new burden to bear. How he wished he were just another statistic. He just wanted
to be treated like a normal kid. Couldn’t he have some semblance of it?

**The wind bites at his face viciously.**

Expectations and high esteem was held against him to be measured up to and it didn’t help that
he was frequently the target of a Dark Lord gone wild with each tragic attempt to commit homicide
for something that was his own doing. I would think that he would have gone insane if he did not
have the help of his two best friends that talked to him, had faith in him, believed in him and
protected him.

**The blood rushes through him as he speeds on.**

He found a pure rush that came from flying after a challenge that was cast upon him from someone
he did not have much pleasure in liking. He immediately took to it like a duck to water and he felt
a release of his energy to the adrenaline rushed environment that pushed against him as he soared
around, oblivious to all that went on around him. Catching the Remembrall, that poor Neville had
the misfortune of losing, with reflexes that were beyond his knowledge. He stared at his hands and
a grin faulted the concentrated expression that inhabited his face.

**Sending his heart pumping madly, almost ready to explode.**

Everyone watched his amazing first fly even though he thought nothing of it and he knew he was
supposed to receive punishment. Instead he received an opportunity to try out for the Gryffindor
Quidditch Team and his talent to fly took him far, as he was made the youngest seeker in a century.
He then cherished the moment that he had obtained his very first broom. The fine polished wood that
gleamed before him held a sentimental position to him. Unfortunately in his third year, the
Whomping Willow battered it to bits, during one particular stormy match and he lost his faithful
friend. During the same year though he was lucky enough to be sent the latest model in racing
brooms and he relished it completely as it seemed to fly based on his instincts and it flew faster
than his old broom and it took him to a whole new level. This of course spurred an argument between
his best friends that it was given by an outlaw, which was true to a certain extent but the
intimacy shared was not known then. His godfather sent it and that made it even sweeter;. Someone
who knew his parents and someone that could watch over him like a real parent, even if it lasted
just for a few minutes at a time.

*He didn’t realise that he was holding his breath, as he becomes a mere blur to
everyone.*

It was horrible whenever he had to go back to the Dursley’s for the summer. Not just because he
was treated like a nuisance and was scorned ever so. He could handle that and was almost used to
the ill repute that was given to him. It was that he couldn’t fly and had no other outlet to
release the haunting voices in his head, the pain that frequented his scars and his fears. He was
alone once more with friends he could not talk to, thrown in the shadows; helpless. During the
darkest moments there, he would open his trunk to take a look at his broom and polish it with the
help of the kit that Hermione had given to him for his birthday. She always knew what to give
him.

**Livid energy courses through him as he makes the swift dive,**

He loved the pure joy of being up in the air out of everyone’s grasp and query. He was just
himself and not just the image of heroism that plagued him. He loved to dive, to feel the blood
rush to his head and his heart pound. The familiar sense of excitement and pure energy that always
made him feel oh so invincible for that few minutes before he gets to the ground where all his
worldly troubles lay.

In that few minutes, he’s free and he has wings.

It was a wonderful feeling that he wished he could explain or share with his best friends. Ron
might be able to understand the blood rush but he wouldn’t understand how it made him feel. His
bushy haired friend on the other hand might be able to but she was so afraid to fly and yet he
wished she wouldn't. He wanted her to understand and feel the same way and open her eyes. Why
he felt so strongly to share it with her, he didn't quite understand but he needed to.

**The blood rushes to his face and he feels light with nary a worry, as the stars above
shine.**

He had no idea though that she had watched him when she could. Staring out her window from her
dorm or sitting quietly in the shadowed corners of the Quidditch stands, like today, so as not to
disturb his time alone that he cherished when he felt the walls closing in on him. Her eyes studied
his face scrunched in concentration and could almost see the swimming endorphins that were making
him grin madly. She did not want to encroach but she needed to get nearer to him as he made that
bold dive that seemed to have gone on forever that her own heart jumped to her throat and she
watched on in utter amazement.

**Then he pulls up quickly and a laugh breaks out as his lungs heave for air. Making him
giddy.**

From the corner of his eye, as he goes on an upward ascent, he spots the person he was just
thinking of and speeds off toward her, earning a shriek of terror as he hurtles forward with an arm
outstretched to catch her. Her hands go over her eyes and she gasps as he takes hold of her by her
waist and holds her close to him as he takes her up. Higher still, after her shrill cries of
violent protests, he doesn’t bother listening to her but just keeps going till the desired level
and his heart feels like it flew over a million miles. She trembles in his arms and he draws her in
tighter as she rides sidesaddle. He whispers for her to open her eyes and she silently obeys and
looks beyond with silent rapture. As she looks on with admiration she listens to his voice as he
tells her of his superfluous flights of fancy. She closes her eyes and he shows her the feeling of
every dip and dive as well as of every ascent and feeling. The journey slows down as they come to a
gentle float skimming the lake and settling down onto the grassy field there after. He looks over
at her and studies her face and her eyes hoping that she understood; understood how he needed it
just like how he needed her and Ron. She leaned over and smiled before planting her soft lips on
his own. He gasped but welcomed the warmth and smooth contours that fit with his. He deepened it
and got the confirmation he needed.

**She understood.**

‘Let me help you fly, Harry.’

**She understood.**

**She gave him his wings.**



