The Portkey

cakeandmilk

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 09/07/2010
Last Updated: 09/07/2010
Status: completed

This is something I would like to dedicate to all of PK’s talented writers and avid readers and to the entirety of Portkey. You guys inspire me in so many ways. I hope you like this one. I hope I’m not violating any copyright for using Portkey’s name as the title. It’s the only title I could think of that suits the story. Admins, if I am violating the rules, do tell me and I’ll apply the appropriate change. Thank you.

Chapters

1. Best Friends. Soul Mates.

1. Best Friends. Soul Mates.

Disclaimer: HP universe is not mine.

Rating: PG-13 just to be sure.

A/N: This is something I would like to dedicate to all of PK's talented writers and avid readers and to the entirety of Portkey. You guys inspire me in so many ways. I hope you like this one.

A/N: I hope I'm not violating any copyright for using Portkey's name as the title. It's the only title I could think of that suits the story. Admins, if I am violating the rules, do tell me and I'll apply the appropriate change. Thank you.

Also, the lapis lazuli has become very popular as of late. The first time I heard about them, I was entranced too with what they are. I have yet to read more about those precious stones. I know I'm not the first one to use that stone to fiction, fan-made or otherwise.

Thank you to Dimethylmercury for beta-ing! She's amazing. Really amazing.

~*~*~

To an observer, she looked so quiet and peaceful, and amazingly beautiful. Her curly brown hair, dotted with flowers, cascaded wonderfully down her back, casting her pale skin in a translucent glow. Her silky silver satin dress hugged her form, deliciously outlining every part of her body whenever she moved and yet, she pulled it off as elegantly modest. Her hazelnut eyes stared out into the open seemingly lost in a sea of memories. Long, slender fingers held on to a tall flute filled with an almost effervescent green liquid before slowly bringing the glass to her moist pink lips.

She was standing on a grand balcony overlooking a scene from a fairytale. Yet, Hermione Granger could not care less of it.

In front of her stretched the vast majestic grounds of…some place. She had no idea where she was at the moment. The details of the grand, well-planned celebration were absolutely lost to her, although she was considered one among the many celebrants. Yes, this year's ball was held in honor of the heroes of the war. And by heroes, it meant everyone dead and alive who had sacrificed in any way whatsoever to bring back the peace to the wizarding world. But of course, the Ministry being the Ministry, insisted that the Golden Trio be the guests of honor. She thought it was a brilliant idea—no, not about them being the guests of honor, but the idea of restoring the old glimmer of the Wizarding world by setting an example to broken hearts, beings, and families. So that when they saw their heroes moving on from the scars of the last battle, they would be able to move on as well.

Hermione had just recently found out that that was easier said than done.

Nevertheless, she put on a brave front and attended the ball with a forced smile and a broken heart. An hour later, she found herself in this grandiose balcony, wallowing in self-pity while sipping wine.

He was supposed to be here, she kept on repeating to herself tiresomely. Harry was supposed to be here. But of course, he is not because he left; a few months ago, he left. Granted, he had warned her; he had told her he would leave eventually in an indefinite time. But still, he left.

She closed her eyes, leant the tip of the flute against her forehead and took a few deep, calming breaths.

It was not as if she had not been forewarned. He had told her right after the war that he would have liked to take a break from everything. She had smiled then, totally supporting his decision. Of course, she knew that break entailed leaving. As much as she hated it, she knew that was what he needed; what he wanted.

She turned around and leant on the railing, tearing her gaze from the beautiful landscape before looking onto the ball that was undeniably going to be the talk of the town tomorrow. Her gaze fell on a couple that was suspiciously close to the balcony door. She had to smile; Ron was very protective of her, especially when Harry left, but when he started noticing Luna, his protectiveness to Hermione had turned fairly. Of course, she would not have it any other way. Her smile disappeared when she remembered how Ron was after the battle. Losing Fred, he was so distant, so indifferent in her eyes. She would not blame him; she felt the same way, although to a lesser degree, when Fred died.

She shook her head, willing the sad thoughts to go away. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a careful sip, letting it burn down her throat slowly, her mind drifting back to Harry.

A month after the battle, everything felt normal enough for her. Normal enough, except for one thing: she realized how much in love she was, and still is, with her bespectacled raven-haired, green-eyed best friend. The realization dawned on her agonizingly slowly, as if taunting her to resist it. But of course, Hermione Granger was smart enough to realize that no matter what she did, or what he does, it will always stay that way: I am in love with Harry.

Confused as she was back then, she could not help but to feel relieved how it explained so many things to her. It explained how she felt for the past years and she marveled at how incredibly easy it was to love Harry. A moment of pure bliss kept on replaying in her mind.

“Harry, hurry up! I hear footsteps already.”

“I am hurrying up.” His agitated voice rang close to her ear as they made their way towards the last steps of the grand staircase.

They were not supposed to be inside Hogwarts. Not yet, at least. But Hermione, badly influenced by her best friend of seven years, wanted to get something she left behind on her dormitory during her sixth year. After hastily tucking it together with them inside the Invisibility Cloak, they hurriedly exited the castle.

She was filled with mirthful excitement and wonder as he slipped off the cloak over them. The lake seemed to agree with her child-like glow through its ethereal reflection of the moonlight beauty. She sat on the huge rock and Harry followed suit, sitting closely beside her.

“So, tell me what is so special about this box,” he whispered.

Swallowing the lump that suddenly lodged itself on her throat, she nodded. “This box was given to me by my grandfather.” Slowly, she opened the small box and enclosed the contents in her hands before holding it close to her heart.

“Whether I am at Hogwarts or in the Muggle world, I always have this box with me. But with the events of sixth year, I forgot about it,” she whispered. “There are just more pressing matters than silly old heirlooms.” She gave a melancholic smile, lost in her thoughts.

“But,” she said after regaining herself, “there are no more dark lords and Horcruxes to worry about now so, I went back for it. Well, we went back for it.”

She opened her hands to him and in her palms sat two silver pocket watches hanging on silver chains. Both watches shone with the same elegant beauty. Their surfaces were blanketed with intricately embossed vines that spoke of an alluring history. Each had a lapis lazuli at the point where the chains connected to the watches. Personally, Hermione thought of them as the most beautiful pieces of jewelry she had ever seen. Even though that was not saying much.

“My grandfather gave these to me before he died,” she said, “with specific instruction of giving the other one—”she closed her hand tightly over one watch, “to someone special; to someone…I…owe…so much...my best friend.” She grasped for words as she tried to downplay what her grandfather had truly said. He had said to her that she must give the other watch to someone she could see spending the rest of her life with. Thinking about it, she was never surer about what she was doing now. To her, no matter what happened, whether they would both end up as best friends or more, she knew this watch would only belong to Harry.

Of course, she could not tell that to Harry—not yet, at least. She did not want to scare the poor bloke so she partly told the truth. Because in all honesty, she could not see herself marrying someone she did not know all her life; she could not fathom the idea of giving herself fully to someone who had not been her friend, her comrade, her soul mate. That is why I am giving it to him. “That is why I am giving it to you.” She held her breath for his reaction.

He was looking down at her hands gripping the watch, his face or posture void of any feelings. Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes a bit clouded from an emotion she did not know. All she knew then was that she had fallen deeper in love with him when he had looked at her in that manner.

“Hermione, I-I can't…”

“Of course you can. I am giving it to you,” she declared with an air of finality before gently opening his palm up and closing it over the watch.

“But...”

“Harry, you are my best friend. And because of that I am eternally grateful. I want to give it to you.” She directed a stern glance his way to emphasize her point.

For a moment, he seemed lost for words and continued staring at their hands. Realizing that, she awkwardly removed her hands. That seemed to snap him out of his trance. He looked up into her eyes, “T-thank you, Hermione.”

She smiled brilliantly at him and she knew then that the first strings of affection he felt for her were slowly making themselves known to him. Soon, she thought.

They spent the better part of the night sitting there, just talking about nothing and everything. They were best friends for eight years, destined to be more talking about the most mundane and trivial things in life, but they felt as if it was the most meaningful conversation they had ever had.

Thinking back, Hermione realized they had their hearts open for each to other to see. Secrets were revealed, tears and laughter erupted from both of them and yet, neither could find the courage to say exactly what they felt for each other.

Sighing, she slowly made her way back to the ballroom.

“Hey,” Ron said, trying to sound surprised when she emerged from the door leading to the balcony.

She smiled. “Having fun?”

Ron shrugged.

“Me too.”

“Have you asked Luna to dance yet,” she asked slyly.

She saw him blush his famous Weasley red as he casually sipped wine. “I am working on it.”

“Ah, right,” she said as she hid a smile.

“I would ask you to dance again but I think I had already exhausted, and bruised, your feet enough.”

She smiled at him, taking notice of that sad glint in his eyes. She knew that telltale sign: he wished Harry was here; she could see that he knew it was the only thing that could make her happy right now. Not knowing what else to do, she looked around the roomful of people, feeling more alone with every glance, look, and smile, and she wished the night would end quickly.

~*~

She had been sitting in her couch for a full three minutes. After Apparating from the party, she just sat there, waiting. Finally, the clock chimed and she looked up. It was midnight and much as she wanted to wallow in this mind-numbing solitude, she had to sleep eventually.

Slowly, she trudged her way up the stairs and into her room. She hated being alone. She never minded before; she even loved it. Growing up in a hateful world where girls like her could not fit in had a permanent effect on her. Well, that was what she thought at first. Learning she was magical had healed that invisible scar from childhood rejection; meeting Harry and Ron turned that scar into a slither of memory she looked back on; falling in love with Harry tragically changed everything. Now, she hated being on her own; she hated this emptiness—this sudden brokenness and disconnection from everything worthwhile.

Sighing, she opened the door to her room and, still in her silver dress, laid down her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“When will you be back,” she whispered.

A tear made its way down her face. “It is been too long.” Yes, it had been too long—four months—almost half a year since he left. She had not heard from him. It was part of his so-called break. Actually, it was her idea to give him total space like that; stupid as it seemed now, she knew that would have given him more breathing space by bringing communication to the Wizarding world to a minimum, and he had agreed.

She closed her eyes and immediately a scene replayed itself behind her closed eyelids.

The streets of Hogsmeade were busier than usual. Students from Hogwarts flooded every corner and more villagers rushed their way to and fro the streets. Villagers jostled and bustled along side them as they made their way down the Apparition point.

She was in a hurry to get out of the cold, snowy village and into the warmth of their cozy lovable flat. She was exhausted from her ordeal at the Ministry. She was called in because of the memory spell she cast on her parents the year prior. Some spiteful Muggle-born hater from the Ministry officials had questioned her `morale'. Prejudices of the Wizarding world were just as hard to eliminate like those of the Muggle world.

They took another route through Hogsmeade thinking it would have less people. They were already in the middle of a busy and quite irate throng of people when they realized they were so wrong.

She was ahead of Harry and pulling him by the wrist trying to get him to move faster. But being the gentleman he was, he tried moving as politely as he could through everyone; saying `sorry' and `excuse me' often. In turn, the people around them just ignored him; some openly ogled but most just ignored them. Nevertheless, it made moving slower than she would have liked. At this point, she questioned the absurdity of being a proper gentleman when her sanity was in dire need to be saved.

She was becoming so frustrated by the situation that she got tired of trying to pull him through. She was loosening her hold on his wrist, and he might have realized it because he grabbed her hand and held on tightly.

She did not realize at first that she was the one being pulled in a different direction. Everything turned quiet and she was shaken out of her thoughts, only to find out that she was already standing in a deserted alleyway.

Harry was standing in front of her, looking easy and relaxed in contrast, with her frazzled appearance. But she could not help notice the nervous smile that he sent her way.

“Harry, what are we doing here…in this alley?”

“There are just too many people out there,” he easily replied.

“Yes, I see that,” she said back, unsure.

He shrugged. “I guess I want to have you alone for myself.”

To say that she was surprised was an understatement. Seriously, that was what she least expected him to say. So she said something equally brilliant.

“Oh.”

She was about to joke about it when she looked up at him and realized that he was more serious than ever.

“Well, you get plenty of Hermione Granger at home, don't you?” She tried to keep her voice less light than what she is actually feeling.

Once again, he shrugged. “'S not enough, I reckon.”

He stepped closer to her and took both of her hands in his. She looked at him questioningly but inside, she felt as if something shifted between them. And she was right; he intertwined his hands with hers and leant closer to her.

With his eyes closed, he pressed his lips lightly, at first, to the top of her head. Gradually, he pressed his lips harder and she could almost tell that he had his eyes solemnly shut.

She closed her own eyes. It felt like being kissed by a summer's wind after bathing in ice cold water for a long time. Her frayed nerves were not only calmed, but they were melted into something warm and sweet. Their souls intertwined together with their fingers and for the first time, she knew what home felt like; for the first time, she felt what it is like being outside the boundary of her books and realized how life was so spectacularly wonderful and worthwhile. It was the most innocent of gestures she could expect of Harry, and yet, it freed her soul and the vagueness of life suddenly became clear: she was brought out to understand the meaning of love, trust and friendship through this boy. As if this was meant to be; as if this, standing in an alley in Hogsmeade with his lips pressed on her head, as if telling her how much he loved her and how much he wanted to be with her, was written in the stars. She would believe anything as long as Harry would gently hold her like this forever.

She felt his hands slip away from hers only to slide past the side of her head and get tangled in her hair. He brought her closer, not breaking his gentle kiss on her head, fully wrapping her in his warm and welcoming embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear and a tear, along with every uncertainty she has all her life, fell from her eye. She is free.

A muted glow brought her out of her reverie. Turning her head lightly, she noticed a box sitting at her bedside table. Standing up, she approached the box only to realize it was the box containing her pocket watch. But above it was a note reading: Happy Birthday, love. H.

She gasped. Looking at the clock, it was half-past midnight. It was her birthday. She barely remembered, but Harry did. For the first time since he had left, he wrote to her. On her birthday. It comforted her to know that he was thinking about her on this day. Opening the box, her heart beat a little faster, and yet her mind was totally clueless, for sitting inside the box was a simple silver band.

Abandoning all `constant vigilance' she had mastered, she took the ring. It sat beautifully against her palm.

Hermione looked at it closely. Inside the ring were the words “Best friends and soul mates”, glowing soft silver. Belatedly, she realized that the ring itself was glowing, swallowing her entire form before finally, Hermione, along with the ring, disappeared from her room completely.

~*~

After the disorientation wore out, she looked around, and finding herself standing on a snow-covered plain. Breathing heavily, she ran by every possibility on why she was here.

Looking around, she took in her surroundings. She was standing in the middle of a trail. Snow was falling around her. Gasping, she looked down and saw that her clothes had not changed. She was still wearing her silver party dress. Then, why wasn't she cold? She surveyed herself and took note of the ring on her finger. She touched the ring. It was cold even though the rest of her was not—the ring was keeping her warm despite her lack of bearable clothing for the snow.

Right. Better keep the ring.

There were trees around and they still had green leaves. She saw a couple of silver wattle trees and hawthorns. There was also a horse chestnut tree around, which always reminds her of Bulgaria, hence, her long time friend, Viktor. The park near her flat has one of those trees, too. So that meant she was still relatively close at home and it was still September. How on earth it snowed in September was completely beyond her. Then again, one thing stood out to her: magic.

Closing her eyes, she tried to feel any dark magic around her. Nope. None. She was concentrating, thinking on Apparating back to her flat when a sound caught her attention.

She swiveled around, but no one was there. Listening a lot more closely, she realized that the sound contained more than one voice. And they were singing. A choir?

Curiosity got the better of her. She walked, following the trail until she could hear well.

She felt the snow crunching beneath her feet, but every bit of attention was directed at those heavenly voices. She shoved away the branch of trees that blocked her path. Immediately, she was mesmerized by the sight before here.

It was a village in its glorious snowy beauty. The lights of houses were dimly lit, which gave the blanket of snow enveloping it a warm familiar glow.

She took a deep breath as she saw a choir singing for the villagers. She took a moment to let the melody wash over her, feeling the peace she always acquainted with Harry overwhelm her.

“I thought you would never come,” a breathless voice behind her sounded. She whirled around and saw him.

Harry Potter was standing in front of her, smiling. After a long time, he was finally here in front of her looking as handsome as ever with his unruly black hair and formal clothing.

Vaguely, she realized that they matched.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand towards him as if expecting him to vanish out of her sight any second. He smiled.

“Hermione Jane Granger,” was all he said.

“Harry,” she whispered back.

Suddenly, she was in his arms being hugged the life out of her. She marveled at how easy it was to fit in his arms. Of how easy it was to fall into this embrace without wanting to move.

“I have missed you,” he whispered in her hair. “Happy birthday, Hermione.”

She hugged him tighter.

When they both let go, she opened her mouth to speak, but she noticed that something was amiss. Harry Potter was nervous.

“Harry, what is wrong?”

For a moment, he hesitated. “Do you know why you are here?”

She shook her head, getting more confused.

“It is more than a birthday present.”

“What are you talking about? Harry, are you feeling alright?”

He took a step away from her and took a deep breath. Right before her eyes, she saw his confidence grow and his resolve strengthen as he prepared get the words out.

“You are very important to me, Hermione. I want to be with you.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“I-I know, this looks in a way… inappropriate, to say the least, but I just have to say this to you. Now. I need you.” He looked at her brown eyes, conveying everything in that one look, but he continued on.

“I need you more than anything. I saw you at the train many years ago and I did not know then that you would become the most important person in my life. And I want you to know that you really are. You are with me through the most difficult times and I know I have taken you for granted. Not anymore. I know that seven years of companionship at Hogwarts has led us to this.

“This break,” he continued, “has only made me realize how painful it is to not be with you. Because you are you. And I am Harry Potter. And many could attest that Harry Potter needs Hermione Granger. But only I could attest how much. Only I could attest how much in love I am with you.

“You pulled me through everything.” He swallowed. “And this time I want to be there for you much as you have been there for me…If you would give us a chance. I want to be with you. Forever. Because for me, it will always be the two of us.”

She felt so light. She could not feel anything but his eyes on her and this lightness accompanied with his sincere words.

And then she smiled at him. His eyes cleared and she felt his happiness as it caressed her. Slowly, she removed the ring, expecting the onslaught of cold to hit her but it never came because then, Harry's warmth reached out to her and all she could do in amazement was put the ring in his outstretched palm.

The voices behind them grew fainter but the melody grew louder. A gentle breeze rustled around them and the stars above twinkled brighter and ghostly faces of the night smiled wider as Harry Potter uttered the words that fate herself chose to seal both their destinies.

He knelt down before her and said, “Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Barely registering the tears streaming down her face, Hermione whispered with much conviction, “Yes.”

Harry stood up and scooped her in his arms as they shared their first passionate kiss.

~*~*~*~

Few hours after the ball, Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood, walked on the quiet streets of a Muggle neighborhood, enjoying the feeling of being with each other. Ron looked up and saw a shooting star glowing blue and bright across the sky.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. “They have found each other,” he said.

“I am glad,” was all she said.

~*~*~*~

Miles away, Harry Potter lay on his bed. He looked down at his fiancée's sleeping form across his bare chest, their naked bodies tangled together beneath the sheets. Just a few hours before, she accepted his proposal to be his wife and they celebrated it with the most natural thing possible: letting all their love for each other take its own course. And now he lay after their lovemaking, thanking the gods for bringing this wonderful woman, who was currently dozing peacefully beside him, into his life.

Soon enough, he drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of the ring that nestled in one of Hermione's fingers was glowing brightly, bathing the room in an azure glow, as it recognized the joining of two souls, before completely disappearing in a permanent glimmer in the gems that nestled atop it.

The Portkey has done its job.

~*~*~*~

A/N: Well, there it is, ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to thank every one who, despite my rants and lack of updates, still reads what I write. I do enjoy reading your reviews no matter how long or short. So, please, review.

There's more to come, I'm sure. I already have five fanfics sitting here in my hard drive waiting to be finished, others waiting to be polished and posted. But, I apologize, once again, for this will do for now. School started and I have to really, really focus this time because this is my last year at Uni and I have my research project to fret about.

I won't be updating for a very long time. This isn't goodbye. Just…until then. :)HaHHHH

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