Fly Away
by Jori
On her 17th birthday, Hermione gets a special invitation from Harry. NC-17
Posted in my journal and on my web site September 19, 2003. Posted on Portkey in November of 2003. So, I'm slow. Another 'first time' PWP story from me. I must stop that at once. Please, don't read this expecting any great depth or plot. It's not there. Okay, once again that means there is no plot in this story. Please don't get to the end of it and write to me about the lack of plot. You were warned going into it. Smut but no plot. Smut but no plot. Turn away now if that bothers you.
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.
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Inside the copy of 'Quidditch Through The Ages' that somehow made its way into my book bag, I find an envelope. Turning it over in my hands a few times, I have to wonder who would have gone through so much trouble to get a birthday card to me. Both Ron and Harry said nothing about my birthday this morning. I should be used to since they both normally forget until someone else mentions it but this year, it hurt that Harry didn't remember. After all, we are dating now.
I break the wax seal on the envelope and pull out the card. It's a simple parchment card with the Hogwarts seal on the front. Opening it, I immediately look for a signature but find none. Instead, there are just four words.
Come fly with me
It is written in a scrawl I couldn't possibly fail to recognize after all these years of checking over his assignments and receiving owls from him during the summer. Besides that, who would else would ask a girl to fly with them on her birthday?
My heart is beating fast and I try to convince it to slow down. Since we decided, while at The Burrow over the summer, that we're should be a couple, we haven't had many chances to be alone for more than a few minutes. This could be it. I really hope so because I want him so badly that I ache.
I stare at the words a little longer and they start to sparkle in brilliant shades of purple and slowly change until they read Meet me tonight after dinner on the Quidditch pitch. The words flash a little more and change back to Come fly with me again.
Looking at my watch, I realize that I've studied through dinner. If I hurry, I'll have enough time to drop my books off in my room and change my clothes before going out to the Quidditch pitch. Although flying isn't my favorite activity, there's no way I'd pass up spending time alone with Harry.
***************
I watch as Hermione makes her way down the sloping hills towards the Quidditch pitch. I wasn't sure she would show up since flying isn't exactly something she enjoys doing but I didn't know how else to get her out of the castle so we could be alone.
Clutching my Firebolt, I hope my hands stop shaking by the time she gets here. She looks so pretty wearing a skirt and a jumper I've never seen her in before. It matches the pinks of the setting sun. She combs her fingers nervously through her hair, trying to smooth it down, and I'm glad I'm not the only one who is nervous.
She approaches me and I hope I come up with something intelligent to say before she gets here. A few weeks ago, my brain stopped working around Hermione. I was suddenly seeing this person in a new light and I'm not sure why. Maybe because the time was right. Maybe it was always meant to be. We're dating now but have yet to go on a date. This is the best I can offer her.
"I don't see another broom. What am I going to use?" she asks right away.
"We're going to share this one," I say, holding out my broom. She raises an eyebrow at me just like she did the night I finally decided to tell her just how I felt about her. "Trust me, it will be fun."
"Okay," she says but she doesn't sound very convinced just like she wasn't convinced that I could possibly want her.
"I know what I'm doing," I say, trying to reassure her that I would never let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever. She ought to know that after all this time.
"I know that. You're the best," she says rather saucily and I can feel my cheeks flush.
"Er-- I don't know about that," I say and she smiles so warmly that I don't care if I'm the best or not. As long as she thinks I am, I'm happy.
"Lead the way," she says, motioning to my broom and looking skeptical that I'm going to be able to do this.
I straddle the Firebolt, allowing it to float just a little, and put out my hand to her. She takes it and I pull her so she's in front of me, sitting sort of side saddle on the broom before I tell her to wrap her arms around my neck. "I'd let you sit like I am and grip the handle but then it won't know whose directions to follow."
"I like this better anyway," she says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. If she keeps that up, I'll never be able to concentrate on flying.
"Are you ready?" I ask and she nods. "Okay. Hold on tight."
***************
We're flying and it's absolutely amazing. He controls the broom with remarkable ease considering he not only has to do that but also has to make sure I don't slip off and plummet to the ground which is quite far below us now. He doesn't do anything silly or rash but instead he circles the pitch a few times, taking us higher each go around.
Finally, when we're high above the stands, he pulls the broom to a stop. The view from here is beautiful with the setting sun washing the castle in shades of orange and pink and making the windows sparkle like gems. Several owls fly out of the owlery and soar off towards the forest to hunt down dinner.
"It's beautiful up here," I say, turning to find Harry watching only me and ignoring the rest of it.
"Yes, it is," he says, not taking his eyes off my face. I blush and look away. I'm not sure when I realized I was in love with one of my best friends. It just happened. Perhaps I've felt this way for a long time but didn't want to acknowledge it, afraid he couldn't possibly feel the same way about me. Then over the summer, I found out we shared the same feelings. It took me a while to believe that he wanted this as much as I did.
"Thank you for this," I say, looking back towards him. "It's a lovely birthday present."
"It's your birthday?" he says with a playful twinkle in his eyes. I'd swat him but there's no way I'm letting go. He steadies the broom with one hand and wraps his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
"It's my birthday," I say, playing along.
"In that case, we ought to do something exciting. Hold on tight," he says and before I get a chance to protest, he takes the broom into a dive towards the ground and pulls it up at the last second until we're soaring high above the stands again. He then does it all over again. I should be screaming in terror but instead I find myself laughing with exhilaration.
He pulls the broom to a stop and I'm still laughing while my heart pounds away in my chest. I don't unlock my arms from around his neck, afraid he's going to do it again.
"That was fun," I say, trying to catch my breath.
"Not as much fun as this," he says, leaning in to kiss me. It starts out awkward, both of us having trouble figuring out where our noses should go and me a little afraid I'm going to slip off the broom. Once we get it right, it's perfect.
My heart is now pounding faster and a hot rush of desire settles deep inside of me. The kiss feels as wonderful as warm sunshine and gentle breezes and he tastes like the sky he loves to soar through.
He takes the broom down a little lower until we're concealed behind the stands and now our kisses deepen. My tongue darts past his lips and when his tongue meets mine, I can't stop myself from moaning against his mouth. He pulls me so I'm as close as I can possibly get and I wish I could turn around on this bloody thing and face him but I can't.
His concentration is slipping because we're slowly drifting towards the ground. As soon as we're hovering just above the grass, I move so that I am now facing him, my legs wrapping around him. He slips his hand under my jumper and moves it across my skin, sending shivers through me.
"Is it possible to do this on a broom?" I ask, my forehead resting against his as we stare into each other's eyes.
"I wouldn't know," he says, glancing down.
"Does that mean you've never tried it on a broom or that you've... never tried it?" I ask.
"Both," he says, looking back into my eyes again.
"Neither have I," I say and that seems to put him at ease a little. "I think the broom part might be a little hard to manage, it being the first time and all, but do you want to try it?"
That sounds positively stupid but I don't care. He takes us down to the ground, the broom dropping to the grass as we kiss once again. I'm sure his answer is yes.
***********
This isn't what I expected nor is it really what I was planning when I asked her to come flying with me but I'm not going to say no. Maybe I should because what if she regrets this tomorrow? I couldn't live with myself if that happened. But I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life if we don't do this tonight.
"Where? Where do you want to go?" she asks and I look around. This isn't the most romantic spot there is but I'm sure we can find someplace suitable.
"Over there," I say with a nod in the direction of the broom and equipment sheds and she steps away so she's not standing over my Firebolt. I put my palm over it, catching it as it flies up and I take hold of her hand with my free hand, leading the way.
The small building is locked (probably to keep out students thinking of doing exactly what we're about to do) but I'm the team captain so I know the way to get in. I take my wand out of my back pocket and tap it just the right way and the door creaks open.
It's dark inside and it smells musty and old but with a few charms, a soft glow soon fills the room and the air is scented of wildflowers. Hermione pulls her wand from the waist of her skirt and transfigures an old table covered with broken broom handles into a soft and inviting bed. I stare at it, my mouth gaping open.
"There are certain advantages to paying attention in Transfigurations," she says. I can't imagine Professor McGonagall teaching a roomful of students how to turn any available flat surface into a bed. That would be asking for trouble.
I watch as she mumbles a few other spells before setting her wand aside. I tuck mine in my back pocket and watch her. My heart was merely pounding before; now it's positively racing. She says something to me but I can't hear. I can barely think. She goes to pull her jumper off but I tell her to stop. I want to do that.
She takes a few steps towards me and I swallow hard, my hands shaking more than they were before. Tugging her jumper up and over her head, I set it aside as my eyes quickly settle on her breasts. I touch the line where the silky fabric of her bra meets her soft skin. She turns around so I can unclasp it, letting it slip down her arms before she faces me again. Not that I've seen many others before in my life, but I've got to say her breasts are perfect.
"Can I -- er -- can I touch you?" I ask. Or at least that's what I think I ask since my brain seems to be focusing only on one part of my body at the moment and that's not my mouth.
She smiles and reaches for my hand, placing it over her heart which I can feel thumping away fast in her chest. I slide my hand down, covering her breast and I feel one rosy nipple grow hard against my palm. She shivers and I raise my left hand to her other breast, cupping them both gently. Her eyes meet mine and I'm so nervous I'm not sure what to do next.
"Can I touch you back?" she asks, her voice squeaking a little. It hasn't done that in years.
"God, yes," I say and she presses her hand against me through my jeans. I grow even harder as she slowly moves her hand up and down and I think I'm going to die if she doesn't unzip them in the next few seconds. Instead of that, she moves away from my touch as she helps me pull my T-shirt off. Her eyes travel over my body and I find my face growing hot. I'm not the scrawny little kid I was when we first met but in no way did I end up as bulky as some of the other seventh year boys. I go to apologize when she places a finger on my lips, quieting me. She then draws the finger down over my chin and lower past my chest and my abdomen until she arrives at the waistband of my jeans.
I then get my wish and she unfastens them and pulls the zipper down slowly before easing them over my hips. I kick my trainers off and let my jeans fall to the ground, standing before her in nothing but my underwear, which she tugs down next. She tries hard not to look but her eyes move lower, not staying there long. Instead, she looks back up at me with a look of mild trepidation.
"We can stop," I say although I can hardly believe I'm saying those words.
"No," she says, unfastening her skirt and letting it slip down to the floor. She's standing before me now in only a small pair of white knickers and I lick my lips. I want her so badly and I hope that she doesn't say stop but this is moving so fast and I wouldn't blame her if she did. "Can I?" she asks, moving her hand closer to my erection. I don't know why she thinks she has to ask permission as I nod my head. I am hers to do with as she pleases.
She takes my cock into her hand, and I cover hers with my own, stopping her from moving her hand up and down just yet. Hermione gets this peculiar grin on her face and laughs a little.
"What's funny?" I ask, not as amused as she is. She should know better than to laugh while she's holding a guy's parts in her hand.
"It just feels... I don't know. Soft yet hard. And the look on your face is priceless," she says and I try to change my expression but it's impossible to do so. "Show me what to do."
"First, your hand is way too dry," I say and she pulls it away. There are two ways we can do this now and I don't feel like reaching for my wand (where did I leave my wand anyway?) so I put her hand up to my mouth and lick her palm, tickling her with my tongue. She tries to give me this disgusted look but she then grows too curious for it to last long. That's my Hermione. Always willing to learn something new.
I put her hand back around my cock and I guide her with my own hand, showing her how fast to move and how much pressure to use.I don't show her anything else but she flicks her thumb over the head, feeling the tiny drop of fluid forming there and using it to make her hand slicker.
"You seem rather knowledgeable about this," she jokes, watching with keen interest what she's doing "Almost as knowledgeable as you are about Quidditch."
"I should be. Years of practice with both Quidditch and this," I retort, watching her fingers move around me as I pull my hand away. She laughs a little more but soon goes back to concentrating on what she's doing. I thrust into her fingers as they wrap tighter around me and it's amazing how much better this feels when it's someone else's hand. But I'm not going to make it last much longer (I'm amazed I've lasted this long) and I pull her hand away. "You have to stop," I say, panting now.
"Okay," she says, pouting as if I took a favorite toy away from her.
"Show me how to do the same to you," I say. I know some things about sex but not a lot. I know there's a way to please her in the same way but when the older Weasley brothers sat me down one day to have 'the talk,' they certainly didn't get into too many specifics. Damn them. Everyone always skips the useful stuff.
"I... I don't do that," she says rather stiffly and I don't know whether to believe her or not.
"Well, why not?" I ask but she doesn't answer. "It's right there... somewhere... why ignore it?"
"Oh, shut up and come here," she says, pulling me towards the transfigured bed.
We move across it, getting comfortable and I help her out of her knickers. The rooms smells of our arousal now and the little lights I started earlier begin flickering and turning shades of pink and violet.
"Show me, Hermione," I whisper, knowing she knows how. If anyone would have at least looked it up in book, it would be Hermione.
Parting her knees, she nervously takes my hand and moves it lower, past her curls until I reach a little nub near the top of her sex. She guides me just as I guided her but I can't help from letting my hand wander further down, to where she's incredibly wet now. I push a finger into her slowly as she continues touching herself. I knew she was lying. She would be too curious to pass that up.
I push her hand away and watch her face, amazed that I'm doing this to her. Her mouth drops open and I lean over to give her a kiss while I continue to stroke her. "Harder," she whispers against my lips and I do just as she asks, turning to watch what I'm doing. She gasps when I go faster and makes this noise I can't even describe as I slide my fingers down and inside while still pushing against her with the heel of my hand.
"Is that right? Is that okay?" I ask, fascinated by all of this yet wishing she'd wrap her hand back around me. I ache with desire now. Positively ache.
"It's more than okay," she says, rolling her hips now thrusting against my touch.
"Are you going to... can you... you know?" I ask, looking at her face as I pull my fingers out of her and back to that little nub. My hand is soaked and I so want to sink my cock inside of her but I'll wait until she's ready.
"I can. I will," she says, looking at me, her eyes filled with desire. "I better now because I probably won't later." I have no idea what she's talking about.
"Why not?" I ask and she doesn't answer right away but rather studies my face.
"You'll see," she says cryptically and I take her word for it. "Just don't stop that yet, okay?"
"Okay," I say as I keep touching her, changing the pace to see what kind of response it elicits. It's not long before she tenses up and I watch as small spasms ripple through her body. She calls my name and grabs for my hand, holding it in hers and squeezing it tightly.
I can't believe I brought her to this. Me, Harry Potter, who knows nothing about girls, made Hermione come. Or I think I did.
"You did, didn't you?" I ask, unsure of myself for a moment.
"Yes, but we're not done yet," she says, moving us until I'm nestled between her thighs.
"I hope not," I say, feeling as if I'm on the threshold of something wonderful and looking in.
**************
I take a deep breath as I reach between us, guiding him in. "Go slowly," I warn and he nods, looking at me with his eyes glazed over. When I woke up this morning, losing my virginity was certainly not in my plans but here we are anyway. I'm about to have sex with my best friend. How did this happen?
I don't care. I just want it to happen.
He pushes in, a sweet look forming on his face as he conjures up the will power to not go very fast. I gasp and close my eyes, clenching my teeth. Everyone said it would probably hurt and they meant it. My fingernails dig into his arms and I want to move away or push him off but I don't. It's got to get better. If it doesn't, no one would do this twice.
He's thrusting as gently as he can when I look up at him, meeting his eyes. He looks panic-stricken. "Is this what you meant?" he asks, his voice soft and full of concern.
"It's only the first time. Or so I've heard," I say, sounding doubtful. I just hope I didn't draw too much blood with my fingernails.
"Want me to stop? This is your birthday, Hermione, I don't want to hurt you," he says and I want to say too late but I don't.
"No... keep going but don't take too long," I say and he gives me a reassuring smile.
"I don't think we have to worry about that," he says as he continues to thrust into me. Beyond the lingering twinge of pain, it's a curious sensation. He fills me so completely and I can see why people love to do this. I can't wait for the next time when it will be better. Then there's the other part of it; the part that has nothing to do with the physical act itself. I've never been so close to another person in my life and I can't imagine ever doing this with anyone else. I want him and no one else.
He wasn't lying about not lasting much longer. His face contorts and his nostrils flair as he tries to get more air while his body spasms like mine did earlier. He pushes in hard one last time, coming inside me. Good thing I did those charms before we started. He never even asked.
Falling on me, both of us covered in sweat now, he breathes heavily next to my ear. I expect him to say something silly that will cheapen the moment but instead he whispers, "Happy birthday, Hermione. I'm glad you came flying with me."
"Thank you," I whisper back, feeling him slip out of my body, a rush of wetness going with him. "I'll go flying with you anytime you ask."
"I might ask you to come a lot, you know," he says, propping himself above me and looking deeply into my eyes from behind his glasses. They're sitting kind of crooked on his nose and I reach up and straighten them. His eyes are now a darker green than I've ever seen before, even when he was angry with the whole world.
"I think I can learn to live with that. Who knows? Maybe with a little practice, we can figure out how to do this on your broom," I say, meaning it as a joke but he gets this look in his eyes that tells me he's thinking otherwise. "But I think we better try it this way a few more times first."
"You want to fly over the school in the dark? It's truly a beautiful sight with all the windows glowing and the owls darting around in the moonlight," he says.
"Won't we get into trouble?" I ask, knowing that it wouldn't be the worst trouble we've ever been in but the term's still new and I'm sure we need to save up for what might be ahead of us.
"Only if we get caught," he says, his eyes aglow. "Come on, Hermione. Come fly with me."
How can I possibly refuse?
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The End