Disclaimer: I don't own it, I would have had more portkey adventures.

A/N: This is a companion to 'A Muggleborn Intervention' - but it doesn't need to be read to understand this story. - LQ

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A Minor Portkey Accident

Part I: Is your refrigerator running?

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"Hey Hermione." Harry distraughtly breathed out as he sat down next to her for lunch at the Gryffindor table.

The area was clear for three feet around them; but the focused glares still remained even though many of the other students had gotten over his latest public blunder with the dumping of his girlfriend; if only the newspaper would stop printing the bloody pictures.

He had been so excited to go to charms class; he was sure his paper on the "Misuse of Portkeys" was an O, or at least an E. He received an acceptable with the note that he could rewrite it for a higher score. Last week's fiasco had caused him to be so distracted –his last ending feet were completely illegible. It had been too late to correct before turning it in, so he had hoped for the best.

An extremely insane charms class, a horribly scandalous break up, losing points for kicking a rock wall, and a less than preferred grade on paper he had spent a lot of time on. Not that losing points for kicking one of the walls had been a surprise; even with Voldemort gone, Snape was still a slimy tosser.

The last two weeks officially sucked.

"Urrgghr." Harry wheezed out depressingly as he smacked his forehead on the cool wooden table.

"Harry?"

Hermione questioned as she rubbed his arm, "Is there anything I can do to make this day better?"

"Just distract me from the situation, please. Ya'know– I would love to hear about what happened in charms class to you and Dean; you seem to be closer now. You did stage that whole intervention thing together. Best let Ron know its just friendship." Harry moaned levering his face off the table.

Hermione's sudden body spasm passed unnoticed to the Boy-Who-Triumphed.

Her right eye started to twitch as she answered, "Ron already knows that. It was just a minor portkey accident. You and Lavender came out worse than we did."

"Sure, but the whole class got to see our glorious mishap; we didn't disappear for half the day then refuse to tell the rest of the class what happened."

Hermione groaned massaging her temple; to deny that anything happened would just reaffirm that something did.

"Fine. I suppose the incident started when we all arrived to Professor Flitwick's mysterious class that was held outside…."

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"Students! Find your partner and stand next to one of these muggle... devices." Professsor Flitwick's squeaky voice spoke as they made their way to the empty quiddich field.

"You mean a refrigerator?"

"Professor? Why are we gathering around refrigerators?"

"Because to-TODAY we will be learning how to create portkeys!" Professor Flitwick squeaked out before apply a sonorus charm.

"Now then, your groups have been chosen by power application and precision ratios. Performing it in two parts this way will lessen the strain of your magic cores while also giving you a taste of group castings! Wonderful!" Professor Flitwick was extremely excited to be teaching this class once more.

"But Professor, why are their refrigerators here?" Dean questioned from behind Hermione.

They had been chosen as partners, and in her excitement she had made sure that he was close by. Sometimes her partners would run off; Ron had once said that it was because she happened to 'go into dictionary mode and spew up random facts about whatever the project was to be on'. He got the silent treatment for a week after that.

"Because Mr. Thomas, we need something that is often correlated with 'movement'; it makes it easier you see? You didn't complete the reading for today did you?" Professor Flitwick asked, drooping a bit.

"No, I did. But I fail to see how refrigerators move. I mean, unless there's some weird magical angle about them, they basically stay in one place. Or at least the one at home does." Dean remarked with his face displaying a small degree of confusion.

"Ah! How strange. Many students years ago assured me that refrigerators often ran. Perhaps muggles have changed them since then?" Flitwick questioned, tapping the length of his wand against his other palm.

A titter rose up through the muggleborn and halfblood students raised in muggle households.

As the Professor looked about in confusion, Seamus politely spoke up concealing his laughter, "Yes, professor. Refrigerators do indeed run."

"Ah good! I wouldn't be able to give those students detention if they were attempting to mislead me. As long as it is linked to the idea of movement it is fine. As you know, portkeys made out of muggle vehicles are unreliable because…?"

Pavarti raised her hand and answered when the professor nodded in her direction, "because someone might climb in, which is very dangerous."

"Good! Five points to Gryffindor! Now can anyone tell me why the size of the porkey is important?"

"A trick question," Padma spoke up," The size is not important to the number of people going to use it, but to the abilities of the casters. Larger items can contain more unspecified spell power without backfiring. To make small portkeys one must be extremely precise with the amount of, and type of, magic applied."

"A marvelous answer! Take five points as well! Along with the pairs I have chosen based on your academic abilities of applying the correct amount of magic to spells; a portkey will always be able to transport the number of people who are part of the casting spell." Professor Flitwick told the class.

Because he would perform the harder part of the spell casting, each portkey would hold enough of the correct configuration of magic to be able to move three people. It was required that he do the finishing part of the spell as it was considered to be to hazardous for students to perform. Even without performing the final spell, the students would still have an idea of how portkeys work and if a situation particularly disastrous, there would still be a chance of getting out by way of homemade portkey.

The new board of Governors had felt that if more witches and wizard had known the basics of portkeying, whole families would have been spared Voldemort's wrath.

Portkey making was extremely dangerous; the reason why it had been removed from the curriculum was due to the loss of five students who were only recovered five months later in Brazil.

While forming the spells were easy, and the potion to prepare the portkey item could be procured from any Potions Master, the ease of the entire process is what often caused the whole thing to go pear shaped.

Oddly enough, the ministry only allowed the filers of the historical analects department to make portkeys for the Auror Department. Studies performed by the Department of Mysteries showed that, for smaller palm sized portkeys to be made a person needed to be extremely precise with the spell magic and extremely focused as well. Many Aurors wore a password triggered portkey pin on the inside of their robes. If the portkey makers were distracted during the process, the small pin wouldn't be able to deal with the erroneous magic being added in. It was a toss up as to what would occur in those situations.

For here was a task that having an over active imagination could easily have whoever uses your portkey swimming with the fishes at the bottom of a lake.

Needless to say, new safety features had been added to the class. The larger items should hopefully absorb and negate the extra 'distractive' energy, while allowing the students to portkey to the designated area.

"Alright, settle down now! You have each gotten a marble from me correct?" Every student present nodded.

"Good! Now keep it in one of your pockets; it is a personal portkey that will trigger off at six PM, with the destination point being right in front of the main entrance to the castle; as a precaution you see."

Hermione Granger raised her hand, fingering her marble, "Professor, why are these portkeys needed at all? I've never read about any about accidents involving portkey usage."

"Ah, well no one likes to have their mistakes made public. If an international wizard suddenly appeared halfway around the world instead of say... a meeting room, they would hardly want to broadcast a portkey error made by their representing government. With high powered magic comes a higher chance of getting it wrong. Now," Flitwick stated, casting an 'accio' towards the castle where a large bag came shooting out one of the tower windows, "Everyone grab an emergency kit as well, it contains a number of items that you may find useful if you accidently send yourself to Atlantis."

The students who knew where this happened to be flinched. The rest of the class just looked about in confusion.

Hermione tutted and spoke up, "Atlantis was swallowed by the sea and now rests at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean floor somewhere. The merpeople like to move it around."

"Does it also cause splinching?"

Susan Bones clutched at the leg that she had accidently splinched off during her apparition test.

"Not to worry, it's not nearly so deadly as splinching; you just might wind up in a… new and exciting adventure! You all are being the test group because you have experience with defensive charms and are old enough to use them in the case of danger. So I'm sure everything will turn out dandy!"

"Professor, why would we need defense charms?"

"A screw up in this spell casting, or thinking about other places than where you want your portkey to go, could send you somewhere you've never been. Last time this was allowed to be taught some students ended up in Brazil! Another reason why you will be performing this spell in pairs!" Professor Flitwick approached an enlarged circular hoop that was laid out on the ground.

"This is where you will be attempting to portkey to, one member from each group will lay the trigger spell on the object and another will be over here applying the location spell. Together you will then touch the primed muggle devices to discharge both spells into it. You should then be portkeyed over to this circle. Good? Now on to the spells! Any volunteers to go first?" Professor Flitwick clapped his hands and looked about the group of students.

When no one stepped forward, the small professor decided to get the group that would most likely cause the most problems out of the way.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, how about you give this a go? Mr. Weasley, come join me in the circle."

Ron and Neville looked at each other queasily.

Ron walked as slow as possible to the professor; it was obvious he was not interested in being part of the guinea pig test team.

"Now boys, you want to incant the spells one right after another in quick succession, or as close as possible; the longer the time in between the spells, the more magic specks fling out when you set and use the portkey." Professor Flitwick stated using his teaching voice.

"Mr. Longbottom, you are to say the incantation "Adsum" –a way of saying 'I am here'– while touching the charged item. Mr. Weasley will incant "Me Non" - or 'make me there– when Mr. Longbottom is done. Now remember Mr. Weasley; point your wand at the ground. Then a quick finish by me, and you are all prepped to go! Both of you will get to use you portkey, and hopefully, you will end up here!" The professor stated excitedly, pointing at the circle he was standing in.

Ron had turned the color of the ocean on an overcast murky day. Hermione just hoped he made it to the correct area; anything that came off in transit could probably be reattached.

Neville seemed quite happy to be the one to start the incantation.

When Ron finally reached his position and waved back, Neville raised a slightly shaking wand to the food storage device and stated clearly, "Adsum!"

Ron, hearing Neville do his incantation pointed the wand at his feet, "Me –"

"NO! Not at your feet! At the ground or you will portkey on top of yourself!"

Ron angled his wand a few more degrees and finished with "Non!"

After saying his incantation, Ron moved back to Neville and their shared food storage device. Each touched the tip of their wand to an index finger. Fingers now pulsing a steady light, both boys eyed each other before poking the refrigerator.

The refrigerator flashed gold, and a shattering noise could be heard originating from within it. The outer encasing of light had fragmented off and shooting out in a circle around it, harmlessly passing through students. Unbeknownst to Hermione and Dean, who had chosen the nearest refrigerator, a small fragment of encapsulated magic struck the bottom edge of their soon-to-be-portkey, leaving a small yellowed crater in the magic aura surrounding it.

"Now boys! It's time to test out your portkey! I will finish the priming spell and then you shall give it a go!"

The small professor waddled over waving his wand and muttering a few final words that they all had read up on. The professor had wanted a portion of the essay they had turned in that morning to be on them. The students waited as he finished his ending spell quietly, as this one was more complicated and could cause some rather horrible effects if not preformed right. Ron and Neville were both sure that they'd rather end up on land than down in the sea.

Gesturing at the boys, he bade them to touch their creation. Everyone else darted back.

Ron grabbed a handle and Neville touched a side; both looked rather green as the object between them started to spin taking them along with. Their creation sprang upwards with them in tow, a couple thousand feet into the air before coming back down where Ron had laid the ending point.

"YEOWCH! It landed on my foot!" Ron shouted after they had come down. Neville found himself tossed a couple of feet away, as was custom for him. Rolling in the grass, he stood up quickly and went to Ron's side in hopes of aiding his fallen comrade.

Professor Flitwick raised his wand and maneuvered the refrigerator off the red head. Ron sighed in relief while moving his foot closer into his body. Professor Flitwick went over and poked it with his wand.

Ron exhaled slowly when the professor pronounced it to be only a little bit bruised. Muttering about 'shrimp teachers' and 'bloody food things', Ron limped back over to the other students with Neville's help.

Hermione incanted a quick pain leeching charm as Professor Flitwick looked on in pride. He expected this class to be dependent on themselves, after all, some of their group had spent the last year doing just that.

"Now then, who's next?"

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Hermione found this to be a fascinating class, so she raised her hand and pushed Dean forward. Stumbling, Dean tripped on an upraised patch of grass that Harry had made by face planting into the ground during yesterday's quidditch practice.

"Ah! Ms. Granger and Mr. Thomas! I trust that the two of you remember the incantations? Start when ready!"

Hermione and Dean executed their ends well.

Ready to use the portkey, the entire class watched as they engaged it; enjoying the sight of them spinning upwards into the sky. Nervous as well, knowing that any group pairing could be next. Hermione and Dean spun up into the clouds. The class watched for a sign of them descending through the fluffy overcast weather.

Waited.

And waited.

The professor eyed the clouds that they had disappeared in, while shading his eyes.

No sign of the two best students in his class.

Letting out a breath he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Oh Bugger."

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"SPPWAARRGGLLL!" Hermione gurgled as she attempted to reach the surface of the disgusting liquid that she had been thrown in when the portkey short circuited.

Reaching the surface she splashed through the viscous green fluid, attempting to wipe her eyes clear.

"HERMIONE! Over Here!" Dean shouted from the edge of the giant vat like pool that she had landed in. Even with the gunk in her eyes she could see that she had not landed in any natural pool.

"Dean?" Hermione sputtered back, heading towards the voice of her classmate.

She hadn't been able to remove the gunk from her eyes and it stung a bit when she had tried to open them anyway. She wished she had practiced swimming a bit more during the summers before Voldemort had become a major drain on her life. He was worth fighting of course; many of her friends had survived his attempt to take over the school.

But when one was dropped from over 9000 feet in the air, into some kind of stinking water, it would rattle anyone. Hermione was lucky that one could apply 'Arresto Momentum' to oneself when falling through the atmosphere. She had blacked out on impact with the water; luckily she had fallen through the hole in the roof made by the spinning refrigerator. Dean must have been lucky as well, though she had no idea how he had avoided the stuff she was swimming in. Overall she felt no worse than she had when she had fallen off the roof into a snowdrift when she was nine.

That was the last time her father had attempted to engage her in recreational activities involving heights. The next year her father had to staple the lights up all alone.

"Hermione! Don't breathe in any more of that stuff and keep swimming this way!" Dean shouted cupping his hands around his mouth in a panicked voice.

"Dean help!" Hermione shouted back.

She could tell she was getting closer to him but it was a bit hard to tell over the whirling of what she assumed were fans in the background.

"You've got twenty feet to go! They won't let me jump in," He responded.

Now that she had her bearings of where he seemed to be, it was easier going.

"Dean you're a wizard! Summon me!" She shouted.

It was frustrating, but even she sometimes forgot she was a wizard. It was rare though. Really, really, rare.

She huffed.

"Okay! Accio Hermione!"

She felt herself sliding in the direction she had been swimming in. This seemed kind of neat. she wondered if wizards had a theme park or game where people were summoned through water. It might be kind of fun to try at the school lake , if the giant squid and merpeople didn't mind.

'Rrriiipppppp'

And her school blouse under her robes that Dean had apparently been dragging her by, ripped off her torso causing her to squeak. Clutching herself to save her modesty, she buttoned her outer robes closed.

Sigh. That could have turned out worse, she thought. Accidently unbalancing, her head dunked under the vile fluid, some of which slipped into her mouth.

Nasty.

"SORRY Hermione! I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" Dean bellowed. Hermione could imagine that his face probably was slightly red. 'Thank Merlin I wasn't partnered with Finnigan.'

She was close enough now that she could tell Dean wasn't alone. Face turning red at the thought of others seeing her shirt go flying though the air, she yelped when she was smacked on the head with a rope.

Blindly grabbing on, she was pulled to the edge of the container while she kicked to aid her rescuers.

A soft towel met her face, while hands reached out and pulled her over the edge. She wondered where Dean had found a bunch of children.

"Yous okay Miss?" A voice asked, somewhere around her knee.

"'ve been better," Hermione answered voice muffled by the hand towel she was using to get most of the gunk off.

Removing the towel from her face and blinking her eyes blearily, she looked about the area they had landed in. It looked like a factory of some kind; large open vats of greenish fluid, the stuff that was beginning to cake on her legs and robes. There was a hole in the ceiling, circular shaped. Hermione assumed that was where they had blasted through with the portkey.

Looking down, she gasped in surprise, "Oh! House elves!"

"Yes, Miss?" four house elves squeaked at once.

"Do you think you can spell this gunk off me?" She asked looking from one bulbous pair of eyes to another.

"Oh noes Miss. Yous covered in fermented Malaclaw venom! Magicing it off might remove yous clothes as well." One stated as the other three started twisting their ear to discipline themselves.

Hermione groaned. Of course she would land in Malaclaw venom, which explained Dean ripping her blouse off. She was not looking forward to the rest of her week.

Placing a hand over her eyes as she tried to think back of what they had learned about Mackled Malaclaws, while Dean attempted to stop the squealing house elves from hurting themselves.

Dressed in cleaning rags they dodged every attempt he made at catching them and removing their hands from the ears they were twisting.

Ah! It was towards the end of third year when they thought that Buckbeak was going to be executed.

Ironically, it had been one of Hagrid's tamer classes. He was quite worried about the hippogriff.

Mackled Malaclaws were foot long gray land lobsters that were covered in green spots. Eating them would give a person a terrible fever. Malfoy had dared Crabbe to eat one. Crabbe turned green, literally, and fainted on the spot afterwards.

The problem that Hermione now found herself in revolved around a peculiar trait of the arthropod's venom.

Venom entering the body caused the person to be unlucky for a week.

"Hermione, help I can't get them to stop!" Dean said frantically, running about in a circle.

If Hermione hadn't known better, she would have assumed the house elves were doing it on purpose.

Grabbing one as it dodged Dean's attempt to halt its self inflicted pain, she raised it above the ground. It was holding the ripped form of her favorite school blouse. She was quite upset about that; it was a gift from Fleur.

"Is there any way that I could get that shirt clean without using magic?" Hermione questioned the being, hoping to distract it.

"Missy, could lick it off. Missy could do it very well!" The tiny elf stated as she started to lick the shirt.

Hermione almost dropped the elf out of shear bewilderment. Taking the ruined shirt from the elf she stared at it in contemplation. She hoped the elves at Hogwarts didn't come up with the same ideas when clothes need special care.

'I can see it now, all of Malfoy's clothes would have tags that say house elf tongue wash only.'

The small elf was still attempting to mouth her shirt.

"No! That's okay, its poison remember?" Hermione spoke hastily in an attempt to persuade the being! from mouth washing her clothes.

"House elves don't get bad luck! We's always happy!"

'Except when you're bashing your head in.' Hermione concluded in her head.

Coughing, Hermione decided to change the subject.

"Could you tell me where we are?"

"Yous in Latrans' factory. Yous needs to get out. He's a bad man!" The house elf went back to hurting itself.

The other elves spoke in hushed whispers about the bad man.

Concerned, Hermione asked, "Does he hurt you? You don't need to take it you know."

They are beings! after all. And they almost always seemed to be victims.

Her righteous quest to support the house elf kind rose within her once more. It had been yet another thing put on hold by Voldemort.

"NO! Can't say…cheater…gambler…er can't no no no!" The house elf shrieked attempting to punch itself in the head.

Hermione was on this new mystery like a niffler on gold. Knowing Harry for a significant portion of life would do that to a person. At least this one didn't involve Basilisks.

"Hermione come quick! Where the bloody hell are we?" Dean shrieked nearby.

Hermione turned to him and walked over to the window he was at. He had given up chasing the house elves about. Hermione went over and peered out the window.

It would have been completely dark if it weren't for the billions of lights glowing outside the window.

"Where are we?" She shrieked, looking wide eyed at the shorter beings.

"Latrans' Factory, Miss."

"Where is Latrans' Factory?"

"Las Vegas, Nevada Sir!" A different house elf chirped as Dean turned and slid down the brick wall.

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To be continued in Part II: What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas...For a Few Years at Least.