The Portkey by 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.




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* *a**m 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* *n**o**t 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 hu**ge 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 a**m at Hogwarts or* *in* *the Muggle* *w**orld, 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 melanchol**ic*
*smile, lost in her thoughts.*

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

*She opened her hands to h**im 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* *intricate**ly* *embossed
vines that spoke* *of* *an* *alluring history.* *Each ha**d* *a lapis
lazuli at the point where the chains connected to the watches.* *Personally, Hermione thought
of them as the most beautiful piece**s* *of jewelry she had ever seen.* *Even though
that* *was* *not saying much.*

*“My grandfather gave these to me before he died,” she said**,* *“**w**ith
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* *woul**d
both end up as best friends or more, she kn**e**w this watch w**ould* *only*
*belong to Harry.*

*Of course, she could no**t tell that to Harry—not yet, at least. She did*
*no**t want to scare the poor bloke so she* *partly* *told the truth. Because in
all honesty,* *she could no**t see herself marrying someone she did* *no**t
know all her life; she could* *no**t fathom the idea of giving herself fully to someone
who had* *no**t been her friend, her comrade, her soul mate.* That is why I am giving
it to him. *“That* *i**s why I* *a**m 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 bi**t clouded from* *an* *emotion
she did no**t 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* *a**m 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* *a**re 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**.* *T**hat 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 Hogsm**e**ade 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* *A**pparition
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* *questione**d her `morale'**.*
*Prejudices of the* *W**izarding world* *were* *just as hard to eliminate
like th**ose* *of the Muggle world.*

*They took another route through Hogsm**e**ade 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 polite**ly* *as
he* *c**ould* *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 hav**e realized it* *because he grabbed her hand and
held on tightly.*

*She did no**t realize at first that she was the one being pulled in a different
direction.* *Everythin**g* *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 no**t 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, do**n'**t you?” She tried to
keep her voice less light than what she* *i**s actually feeling.*

*Once again, he s**hrugged. “'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 fel**t* *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 ha**d* *his eyes
solemnly shut.*

*She closed her own eyes.* *I**t fe**lt* *like being kissed by a
summer's wind after bathing in ice cold water for a long time. Her frayed* *nerves were
no**t only calmed**,* *but they were melted into something warm and sweet. Their
souls intertwin**ed 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 un**derstand 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
Hogsm**e**ade with his lips pressed on her head**,* *as if telling her how much
he love**d* *her and how much he wanted to be with her, was writ**ten in the stars.
S**he would believe anyth**ing 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 wrapp**ing* *her in his warm and welcoming
embrace.*

*“Thank y**ou,” he whispered into her ear and a tear, along with every uncertainty she
has all her life,* *fell* *from her eye. She* *i**s 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. B**etter 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* *P**ortkey 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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