Dedication: To Inell who gives me the inspiration to write and the confidence to post.

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K. Rowling; I just play with them when she's not looking

Warnings: There's some Harry/Lavender in the beginning before we get to the pumpkin pie goodness. No, I'm *not* a fan of the Harry/Lavender pairing, but it's necessary to the story. There's also Ginny/Neville which is *not* necessary, but which simply happens to be a pairing that I like. It never gets graphic and it's not in every scene, but it is still there. There is also Draco/Hermione friendship. It never moves beyond friendship, but Draco is semi-nice and semi-redeemed and a *very* important character in the story. Consider yourselves warned.

A/N: This is my first portkey fanfic and I'm thrilled to be here! But since this *is* my first time, posting this fic is going to be mostly trial and error, so if something screws up, please be patient with me.

Section 1:

Voldemort was dead.

The night air was thick with owls flying to every corner of the globe to spread the glorious news. Complete strangers embraced in the street, weeping tears of joy. Rivers of Champizzle (a rare and expensive wizard version of champagne invented by Irving the Inebriated where the fermented bubbles were multi-colored and took the form of mini-fireworks in the bottle) were poured and distributed in every household as the whole of the wizarding world lifted their glasses to toast the ultimate triumph of the Boy Who, Once Again, Lived.

Of all the celebrations that raged across the wizarding world, none was more joyous than the one held at Hogwarts. When Dumbledore, by special permission of the Ministry of Magic, presented Harry with the Order of Merlin First Class during the celebratory feast, the cheers of the student body had been enough to make the ancient walls of the venerable castle tremble. Students, teachers, and even ghosts rejoiced. Peeves swooped through the halls cheering without pulling a single prank. Filch tied a new, scarlet ribbon around Mrs. Norris' neck. The Bloody Baron was actually seen to smile. The castle fairly glittered with smiling faces and radiant joy, and all the painting of angels in the castle congregated in the Great Hall to sing Hallelujah in heavenly harmony.

And at the center of it all, blushing and embarrassed as usual, was Harry Potter, the hero. Ever since he had stumbled back into Hogwarts that morning, bruised and bloody but with a triumphant gleam in his eye and the pieces of Voldemort's wand in his hand, Harry had not been left alone for so much as a second. A constant plague of owls followed him everywhere that he went, bearing messages of congratulations, adulations, and even offers of marriage. The reporters, likewise, descended like a swarm of locusts. None of them were brave enough to defy Dumbledore by breaching Hogwarts, but they sent an unceasing stream of owls begging for Harry's story. One reporter offered Harry anything he had, up to and including the entire contents of his Gringotts vault or his first-born child, in exchange for an exclusive interview. Colin Creevey, with his usual puppy dog devotion to Harry, had appointed himself Harry's personal secretary, and was busy sorting and categorizing all the notes and packages that Harry had received.

Not surprisingly, the common room of the Gryffindor tower was a scene of absolute chaos. The house elves, led by the positively ebullient Dobby, had crammed every flat surface other than the floor with food and drinks of every description. The feast (which lasted for five hours) had ended three hours before, but the Gryffindors were nowhere near finished in their celebrations. After all, the Gryffindors had a double reason to celebrate. Harry's triumph was, of course, enough reason for the house party to end all house parties, but the story of his engagement was enough to turn it from an astonishing victory to a perfect fairy tale.

Yes, Harry Potter was engaged.

It had actually happened months before. Harry had fallen in love with Lavender Brown midway through his sixth year. At that time, the situation with Voldemort seemed to be worsening by the hour, and Harry had been terrified that if any Death Eaters discovered his attachment to Lavender, both she and her family would be in danger. Determined to protect her from the same fate as his parents and his godfather, Harry convinced Lavender to keep their engagement a secret. Only the Gryffindors in their year, whom Harry trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt, knew the truth.

But now that Voldemort was eliminated, it was safe to let the secret out. Lavender had been the one to expose it when she flew into Harry's arms in a perfect transport of pride and joy right after he had received his Order of Merlin. Colin's camera had captured the exact moment where Lavender's lips met Harry's. Industrious lad that he was, he had already taken orders for over fifty copies of the photo from the student body, and was negotiating the picture's release to the Daily Prophet.

The Gryffindors, in grand Gryffindorian tradition, had determined that the situation called for an immediate engagement party. Dobby even managed to smuggle in a few bottles of alcohol for the use of the whole house, and a special bottle of Champizzle from his own possessions, for the sole use of Harry Potter and, as he insisted on referring to Lavender, Harry Potter's Miss. Dobby had given the bottle to Harry with many winks and nudges in between bone-crushing hugs dripping with tears of adoration.

Lavender was in her element. She positively adored the spotlight and as the newly revealed fiancée of the savior of the wizarding world, she knew that she had the admiration and envy of every witch under the age of fifty, and most particularly every witch at Hogwarts. She glowed from all the attention, and never tired of showing the dazzled Gryffindor girls the beautiful diamond ring that Harry had given her. She recounted the story of how he had proposed thirty times in the span of an hour, and looked more than willing to recite it thirty more times, if not more. She looked up every now and then to catch Harry's eye with a brilliant smile, and blow him a kiss. Harry, inevitably, would blush violently and then grin back.

Harry's hand instinctively grasped the locket that hung around his neck. It had been a Christmas present Hermione had given him the year before. The small gold oval was engraved with the image of a lion and held inside it a pair of reversible sketches. One set showed his mother and his father, as they looked in photographs that Harry had of their last year at Hogwarts. If pressed on, though, the hidden latch flipped the sketches over, revealing sketches of Harry and Lavender. For over a year, Harry had kept the locket on him at all times. Although he arranged the images so that they would show his parents, he had always taken comfort in knowing that even if his love for Lavender had to be hidden, it was always close to his heart. Tonight, for the first time, he was wearing the locket with the images of himself and Lavender facing the front.

Harry was happier now that they were with only Gryffindors. The scene in the Great Hall had been overwhelming and Harry had never been fond of being the center of attention. In the familiarity of the Gryffindor common room, Harry could finally allow himself to relax. He reveled in the new-found luxury of being able to stare at Lavender as much as he wanted without worrying about anyone getting suspicious, and drank the dozens of bottles of butterbeer that his friends pushed on him while they slapped him on the back and told him that they always knew that he could do it.

He felt sore and tired and overly full and slightly drunk and absolutely wonderful. He was surrounded by people that he cared about, who cared about him and who he could love as much as he wanted without worrying that his affections would be used against him. The shadow that had hung over his head and influenced his every decision for the past seventeen years was finally eradicated. It felt marvelous to be so free.

A soft smile played over his lips as he scanned the crowd. There were bursts of bright red hair all over the room. Fred and George gotten Ron to give them the Gryffindor password, and had used the secret tunnel from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts to sneak all the Weasley brothers in for the party. Even Percy had removed the stick up his arse to join in the celebration. Ever since Harry's fifth year, when Percy had sided with the ministry instead of his family, his relationship with Harry had been tense, even when he came back to his family, apologizing, a year later. Now, finally, the last remnants of tension seemed to have faded away. His voice, inevitably, had been pompous when he congratulated Harry and Lavender on their engagement and wished them "conjugal happiness" in their future together, but his smile had been warm and sincere and he had actually hugged Harry, whispering in his ear a small apology for having ever doubting him. The very last bits of Harry's old resentment had melted away, and he had hugged Percy back.

At the moment, all the Weasley siblings seemed happily occupied. Fred and George had rigged up a music system and were busy playing DJs to the noisy crowd. Charlie had gathered a crowd of wide-eyed first years around him as he dazzled them with dragon tales. Bill was dancing with Ginny while Percy held what looked to be a fairly serious conversation with Neville Longbottom. Ginny and Neville had been dating for a little over a year, and Neville looked positively terrified. Harry hid a smirk as he imagined the inquisition Percy was putting Neville through as he decided whether the bashful boy was good enough to date his baby sister. Meanwhile, Ron had smuggled in Luna, and the two of them were busy snogging in a darkened corner. Harry grinned as he saw them all so happy. The Weasleys had been his family ever since that first day at King's Cross station when he asked Mrs. Weasley for directions. Knowing that his triumph made them so happy made his own happiness all the greater.

Instinctively, his eyes sought out the other person who had been there for him since the beginning. Hermione might not have been his friend from day one, but even before Halloween of his first year, he had known that she was someone he could count on, no matter what. It was impossible for him to forget his first encounter with her. She took one look at him, and fixed his glasses. And in all the years that he had known her, she had always found a way to step in and fix his problems. Always. He never could have defeated Voldemort without her. Hell, he never could have *survived* so long without her. A slight frown passed over his face as he remembered that he hadn't had a real chance to talk to Hermione since he had gotten back to Hogwarts earlier that day. As he scanned the crowd for her, he mentally resolved to pull her aside once he found her, give her a hug, and thank her for all that she had done for him.

The slight frown grew deeper when he couldn't spot her. Harry had a trained seeker's eye, and never had any difficulty finding someone in a crowd, especially Hermione. After all their years of friendship, he knew her so well that even if he couldn't see her face or her trademark bushy hair, he'd recognize the way she stood, or the way she moved, or even the way she gestured when she spoke. He'd never had any difficulty spotting her before, not even in the packed Gryffindor stands during a Quidditch match. It bothered him when he couldn't find her right away. It bothered him even more when he came to inevitable conclusion that he wasn't able to find her because she wasn't there. A brief bolt of panic shot through at the thought that she might be missing before he forced himself to relax. Voldemort was gone, and he would never have to worry about someone snatching his friends just to hurt or bait him ever again. Despite that, however, it still bothered him that Hermione wasn't there. Where on earth could she be?

Noticing that Ron and Luna had, thankfully, come up for air, Harry shouldered his way over to his friend.

"Have you seen Hermione?" he asked.

Ron looked around, bewildered. "Isn't she here?" Despite his worry, Harry had to hide a grin at Ron's question. There had been a time at the beginning of sixth year when Ron could tell him at any moment exactly where Hermione was within a radius of half a meter. Ron had decided that he was in love with their bookish best friend, and nearly drove the girl crazy following her around all the time and begging her to go out with him. It was funny to think about it now (especially since Ron turned bright red whenever anyone mentioned it) but at the time, it had looked as if the famous Gryffindor Trio had been on the verge of dissolution.

Hermione had flatly refused to go out with Ron, saying that she didn't care for him in that way and that she wouldn't jeopardize their friendship by trying to turn it into something that didn't stand a chance of working. When he didn't give up and stubbornly refused to listen to her logical, carefully detailed explanations, she simply stopped speaking to him, saying that until he was capable of seeing reason and talking sense, she had no interest in anything that he had to say. Harry had spent a few uncomfortable months stuck in the middle of it before Ron finally gave up. Although the three remained friends, the tension didn't completely drain away until Ron got together with Luna. After that, their friendship had returned to its former strength.

"I don't see her anywhere," Harry answered.

"I think I saw her duck out about twenty minutes ago," Luna volunteered with a dreamy expression on her face as she cuddled closer to Ron.

"Why would she want to leave the party?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Luna raised a single eyebrow. "She didn't say, but that's probably because I didn't ask. No one did." There was nothing accusatory in her tone, but Harry seemed to hear something of a reproach in the way she had phrased it. Harry found himself wondering, as he often did around Luna, if there was actually something she knew that the rest of them didn't, or if she just gave off that impression.

Shaking off that thought, Harry returned his focus to the problem at hand: finding Hermione. Once he gave it some thought, he realized that tracking her down would be fairly easy to do. He rummaged around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for. The old piece of parchment looked even more battered than it had when Harry had received it from the Weasley twins four years before, but it was still just as effective when he tapped it with his wand, reciting "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Instantly, the detailed map of Hogwarts flashed onto the page, complete with the tiny dots of the people in the castle. Practically everyone was in clumps, obviously showing the parties that were raging over the castle. In contrast, the dot that read Hermione Granger was alone and seemed to be walking through a part of the castle that the Marauder's Map had labeled "Deserted rooms; very dull."

Harry lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak to Ron, but Ron smiled and cut him off. "It's okay; I know what you're going to say. Go track her down and make sure she's alright. I'll cover for you if anyone is looking for you."

"Thanks, mate," Harry replied with a grateful smile. Even though he knew it was no longer truly necessary, Harry still felt that same paranoid need to be certain that his friends were safe at all times. Ron understood that.

"Better take your dad's cloak, so you won't get mobbed in the hallways," Ron suggested with a wink. "Anyone sees you out there and you'll just get dragged into another party."

With a nod, Harry slipped over to the dormitories, grabbing his father's invisibility cloak out of his trunk. He headed back to the common room portrait hole with the cloak and the map firmly clasped in his hands. Over the heads of the crowd he caught Ron's eye, flashed him a smile, and then wrapped the invisibility cloak around himself. As he escaped through the portrait hole, he cast a quiet lumos spell, and followed the path on the map that would lead him to Hermione.