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Bluminous

Authors note: no, I don't own harry potter, I didn't make money writing this, I wish I did.

This is my first ever fan fiction, although I have been considering writing one, as a few ideas are already in my head for a few years. Well no time as the present, I hope you enjoy. Forgive me for the random bouts of misspelling, but I'll try hard to make reading it as aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Here we go...





Title: Sojourn: /The First Flight/

Rating: M (sexual situations and violent battle scenes)

Pairings: Harry Potter/some female character (No slash)





Summary: Harry Potter was born with strange wings, but his mother and father still loved him. His wings disappeared after he who must not be named's attack on their home. No one knew where they came from and that they existed, until after his fifth year they suddenly appeared again at during his 16th birthday at Pivet drive.





(A/N: I got an inspiration from the Fanfics Dragon's Breath and "Ends and Means", both had Harry sporting wings, but the similarities end there)





A/N This is edited, thanks to my wonderful beta, illuminaria









Sojourn: The First flight

By Bluminous



Chapter 1: Sorrows and Recovery





Scrubbing away an irritating stain at his uncle's living room table, Harry Potter, age 15 made himself busy doing summer chores. He preferred the monotonous repetitions of cleaning, sweeping, polishing and painting; they made his mind busy with the current task, not thinking about anything else at all.

For once he did not mind the chores set by his aunt, Petunia Dursley, older sister of his deceased mother Lily, and even welcomed them, attacking the chores as if they were gifts from the heavens. He remembered the first week he arrived at number 4 pivet drive, when he was given a long list of chores he had to do for the summer. He took the letter, gave his aunt a curt nod, and started immediately. His aunt blinked, expecting Harry to have a fit regarding unfair chores, like most teenagers would, but only accepted them without a sound of protest.

She didn't know what to make of this cleaning superman, as was Vernon, her husband, and Dudley, their son. Usually after arriving back for the summers Harry would banter back with Dudley, and whenever Dudley tried to intimidate him, he would point his 'twig' at his Dudders.

Petunia was befuddled.

Harry took the chores quickly as if afraid she would assign them to someone else, maybe even to Dudley. She saw in her mind Vernon and Dudley trying to paint the fence and she snorted. Those two would only likely ruin the fence, and use too much paint. In truth Harry was addicted, chores were like drugs, and most parents would hope they would get a similar'high' as Harry.





Her thoughts about her nephew were broken as she heard the slight tap in the pane of the window in the kitchen and saw a grey barn owl intently looking at her. Fearing an invasion of wizards or such in her (over active) mind she hesitantly took the letter and was about to yell at Harry that he had mail when she noticed the back of the envelope.









Petunia Dursley, Kitchen, Number 4 Pivet Drive







Opening the letter carefully, she saw the owl took flight and then read the thin, cursive handwriting of Albus Dumbledore. Reading carefully, her eyes grew widened as she finished reading it. As her mind absorbed the content of the letter she felt something she didn't ever experienced in her whole life. She looked at Harry, desperately scrubbing and cleaning their furnitures. It was not fondness, not warmth or caring, it was pity. He was grieving for his dead Godfather that died to save him. She pondered what course of action that needed to be followed, and decided on leaving it as it is. She did not want to meddle in the affairs of wizards since her sister died, maybe she would increase her servings of food for him, as he eagerly worked his body to exhaustion every day. Yes that would do and ease her conscience a bit.



The days went slowly for Harry, he was still grieving, and every night his mind would see different scenarios of Sirius falling through the veil. Still it was getting better somehow as he did not feel the crushing weight in his heart whenever he thought about his Godfather. Yes, his eyes would slightly go hazy whenever he remembered, but what two people said helped him in a way no one else did, even Ron and Hermione. These two people actually understood him more than anyone for they experienced what was actually happening to him.

Luna with her crazy antics saying he would meet Sirius again someday made him smile, and Hagrid saying that it was the way Sirius would have wanted to go, fighting till his last breath. This gave a sort of comfort for Harry, as a heavier weight was now on his shoulders.

The prophecy is now on the forefront of his mind, and he was constantly thinking of ways to get stronger, to gain more power. He look up at his Godfather as an example and he knew that even if he did not succeed vanquishing Voldemort, he would damn well die trying. Better to die fighting adark wizard than doing nothing, watching as darkness descended.



Harry continued his chores and during his spare time finishing his assignments and reading up on defense books. This was his forte, and he was determined to learn anything that would help him prepare for the future.

Hedwig, Harry's beloved owl and familiar, sometimes hanged out at his shoulder, occasionally trying to peck one of his tufts of hair back into place but failing miserably. She sometimes nibbled at his ear whenever he got into a mood, and that brought him out of his funk.





The summer was vastly different from the previous summers, as he felt energized and refreshed. This was the first time he never felt hunger pains in his stomach for eating too little, and he developed ahealthy appetite that matched Dudley, but unlike his Shamu cousin, he worked off the food by performing chores or his new hobby, running every morning.

He fondly remembered how it started, when his aunt ordered him to buy milk as the milk man was sick for the week. Not wanting to be left out of breakfast, he started jogging the 6 blocks down past the park to the local Store and he felt the early morning cold air whipping past his face and hair. The scent of dew and the early chirps of waking birds always made his mornings peaceful.

Ever since that second week, he started to run, and continued the hobby eagerly. Hedwig would sometimes fly with him and play tag the Potter, his familiar would try and swoop down and ruffle his wild hair with her foot or wing before turning in.





His birthday was fast approaching and Harry irritably scratched his back, "Bloody back" he muttered. It was now acting up, and he was sure he didn't pull his back lifting heavy weights or furniture. He tried to scratch his back with a fork, but deemed it too gross.

Harry finished breakfast and gathered the plates to the sink and started washing the plates. His next chore would be after lunch so he went to his favorite spot, outside the window of his room on the roof of the shed. He would always lie there with Hedwig sitting quietly beside him as they both gazed at the sky. His back was acting up again, and it felt as if something was moving there under his skin. Hedwig watched him and tilted her head. "Hoot?" she asked.



"Nothing Hedwig my back's acting up again" he smiled to her and stroke her soft white feathers. She hooted with pleasure as he stroked her. 'Feathers... 'Harry thought. He was puzzled why they felt familiar, the texture, and the feel of it. He was sure he never owned a bird as a pet before Hedwig, as Dudley would surely kill it and he would never be able to hide it in his cupboard.

They both stared on the bright blue summer sky, and Hedwig took flight, with Harry watching her enviously. He too wanted to fly with his familiar.



At 11:00 pm harry was busy reading an owl from Remus Lupin, last of the marauders, greeting him a happy birthday and giving him the latest book on dueling tactics. From Alastor Moody, the retired auror he received a new version of the sneakoscope, one that flashes blue when it detects a lie, and red when it detects someone not trustworthy. "Neat" Harry grinned, and stored all these carefully into his trunk, the book Remus gave him he would read further and was tucked under his pillow.

At quarter to midnight Pigwidgeon zoomed in, followed by Errol who crashed luckily into his bed. "Hey Errol, nice flight?" Harry asked and Errol stood up glaring balefully at him and flew to Hedwig's perch and drank water.

Pigwidgeon was circling hooting as if singing Harry an owl's version of happy birthday. Pig released from his tiny clutched talons apackage, filled with Mrs. Weasley's fudge, the latest extendable ears from the twins and surprise surprise, a chuddley cannons shirt from Ron.



Wondering where Hedwig was as he took care of the visiting owls and giving them treats, he looked out his window ands saw her immediately against the black sky. A white speck moving rapidly and Hedwig arrived gracefully dropping off a package into Harry's lap. Harry read the label of the package and grinned when he learned who sent it. "You really love me don't you girl?" he teased Hedwig and the owl gave him an affectionate cuff on the wing. Seeing the letter on top of the package, he read the letter first.





Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I got you this gift from the last time me and mum went to Harrods, and as soon as I saw this outfit, I knew I had to get it for you. Since you always get magical gifts that you can't really use in the summer because of the statute of secrecy, this one's normal. I hope you like it! Promise me you will wear it on the train? Don't worry its fairly loose, it's not that indecent that you would object wearing it.

Love,

Hermione

P.S Mum adores Hedwig, and keeps feeding her treats. Hedwig might get fat.





He laughed and talked to Hedwig. "Hermione said you're getting fat, but that's not true girl right?" Hedwig nodded, and sent out a low hoot that promised revenge on the ungrateful girl.

Opening the package wrapped in brown paper secured with a paper string, Harry gaped at the black leather pants and leather jacket that was on his hands.

What was he supposed to do with it? Staring dumbly, he thought 'was that really from Hermione?'

The last letters he received from both his best friends were normal, at first comforting him for his loss and then encouraging him for trying to make progress, and finally happy that he bounced back that he got out of his depression. The other owls were about to leave when suddenly stopped as Harry suddenly froze and tensed up, making a slight gasp of pain. He was so preoccupied with Hermione's gift that he did not notice the strange sensation on his back getting stronger until it was too late.



The pain was so intense, that even his brain could not manage to order his vocal chords to scream. His brain could not comprehend this level of pain, so different from the cruciatus curse. He felt his muscles and his back tear, as if being pulled out by a giant hand, savagely grabbing his back, tearing past skin and pulling his back muscles. He fell down on his cheap bed, and hunched over in pain, his mouth in a silent scream of pain. His face was white from the intense new sensations and he felt tremendous pressure on his back growing. He prayed to whatever deity of magic to smite him and end his suffering already. This was too much.



Suddenly the pressure grew on his back and his skin rippled like waves, and he clawed the wooden bed frame. His nails were bleeding as his body tried to distract itself by causing a new source of pain and to try to ignore the feeling of hell on his back. It was not working.

As he was about to succumb to insanity from the pain, everything grew quiet, and the pressure was released and it felt wonderful. Huge silvery white wings coated with blood burst forth from just under his shoulder blades, thrusting out to the room and nearly hitting the ceiling. Each wing was bloody and thrust out spatters of blood to the walls and surrounding furniture.

The wings then slightly fell and flapped slightly, as if tired from their long confinement and yearning for the rush of wind. His muscles were still re arranging themselves and blood was still pooling all around his bed and into the floor, but he felt relief. The pressure was gone, and his back was sore, but all of it was nothing compared to the feeling he felt a while ago. He could not move for his body was tired.



Hedwig was in his shoulder instantly, hooting loudly, concerned for his master. Pig was hooting loudly, scared from this weird sight. A wizard with wings? It was impossible. The other owls gawked for a minute then flew off, living him with Errol, Pig and Hedwig. His familiar tried waking him by rubbing her head on his shoulder, not concerned as blood stuck to her pristine white feathers.

Harry's new wings now showed their color, as blood fell down from them. White, silvery white, glinting in the moonlight. The wings then folded up pressed against his back, and he vaguely heard the door crashing down as someone went into the room, wand draw. He knew no more.



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A/N: comments, suggestions? I already mapped out until chapter 15, this would be 30 chapters.

Reviews make me happy