Life After Death

Written By: LuckyShamrock

Summery: For everyone that has ever dreamed of the impossible. For everyone that has ever wanted to be needed. For everyone that dies, another life is begun.

Timeline: Set after OotP, in the beginning of the trio's sixth year.

Pairings: None as of yet.

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, do you really think I'd be writing this?

Rating: PG-13 for Violence.

AN: Let's start here and let you know that this is an Original Character fan fiction. I don't want to hear any flames about this. If you don't like Original Character's then don't read this. You won't get me to stop writing about an OC by leaving a mean review. Also I'd let you know Other then that, I pretty much have nothing else to say, except for those of you that do enjoy this little story of mine, please leave a review it's nice to know people are reading this.

Also, for those of you reading my other HP fic...I know I should be working on that right now. I really do. But for some reason my muse has left me on that one. I do intend on finishing it sometime, I just need to let my muse kick it into gear.

I had no intention of dying. I mean, I knew it would happen sooner or later it does to everyone. But I had no intention of dying when I was only sixteen. I don't think anyone has the intention to die that young, but I did. It wasn't pleasant, let me tell you. Ever since I was little and I realized that one day, I would die, and I wouldn't be here anymore I've been afraid of it. I suppose everyone is at some point. Just the whole idea of dying, and just blinking out of existence scared me. Let me tell you, it didn't happen that way.

Because I still exist.

I don't think this was supposed to happen, I honestly don't. It did. You see, I was driving home from school one afternoon. I hate driving, but it's either drive or ride the bus home, and I loathed the bus. So driving it was, an old beater of a car that I got from a neighbor for five hundred dollars. I wasn't far from home when it happened, a cat ran out into the middle of the road.

We're told not to jerk the car to the side to avoid hitting an animal, because you could die because of it. Too bad, that I didn't listen when told that. I couldn't hit a cat. I had a cat at home. Sure she was a mean and evil cat that liked to bite my feet and steal the covers, but I had a cat nonetheless. Which is why I couldn't hit the cat that ran out into the road, because that cat was someone's pet.

So it was pretty much thoughtless when my hands jerked the steering wheel to the side. This of course would be the dumbest action of my life. Because my car was so old, and because of such sudden turning, going at the speed I was, the car flipped.

Not once.

Not twice.

Three times it flipped, rolling down the road (I'm pretty sure that if that cat didn't move I killed it, so my death was pretty much for nothing) I might have had a seatbelt on, but that didn't protect me from all the jerking around, the windows breaking, the steering wheel being shoved into my chest.

I had never felt something so painful in all of my life. I mean it too. I thought that getting a knot in my hair and brushing it out was painful, or a paper cut was painful. Nothing compared to the feeling of those few seconds. I didn't know what was going on when the car flipped. It was one of those moments in time where when the world finally slows down, and the car stopped flipping (leaving me upside down) I could only whimper.

There was so much pain! You don't understand how painful it was. Even I can't understand how painful it was. I was screaming, mind you they were muffled screams, because I was choking on my own blood. I knew, I knew I was going to die.

People who had blood bubbling out of their mouths always died in movies, so I was pretty sure I would die. At that moment, with that pain…I wanted to die.

However, I was scared to die. Remember? Scared. I didn't want to blink out of existence, suddenly be alive and well, then the next be dead. My parents would have cops show up at the door to tell them their only daughter died. My funeral would be attended by close family members and friends. But as the wounds healed, they wouldn't remember me. I mean, they'd feel bad, they'd think of me…but I would be in the ground slowly turning to dust, and they would be alive.

I could feel the blood run down my face, down my neck, and make me feel more uncomfortable then I already was. It hurt to breath, and it was hard to breath at that. There were spots in my vision when I blinked. It was then, on the brink of death when I remembered a discussion a few weeks back in my Philosophy class. What happens when you die? Where do you go?

Someone answered surprisingly well for a seventeen year old. She thought that when we died, we went where we thought we would go. In her case when she died she would be going to a tropical island filled with cabana boys with six pack abs that worshipped her.

It was at this point I started a mantra of words in my head, as I started to feel heavy…as if something was pushing down on me. Kind of like when your on the brink of sleep, and your limbs feel as if they can't move.

Go somewhere that I'm needed. Go somewhere that I can have friends (because I was pretty much a loner here). Go somewhere where I feel whole.

That's what I thought. Pretty lame huh? Well, I was on the brink of death! What did you expect? I couldn't really bring myself to visualize some fantastic paradise. I wouldn't want paradise. I'd just want to live. I wanted friends. I mean, I had friends here, well one friend actually named Courtney who is overly active and always trying to get the school-board to let her play football and basketball with the boys. But I wanted friends, that I could just…

Dying is a lot like falling asleep. I could hear the occasional bird chirp in the distance, it was hard to breath. Like breathing with pudding in your throat. It felt uncomfortable. I had long sense started to be numb to the pain. I knew it was there, I felt it, but I just…couldn't do anything about it.

I could hear an oncoming car, the road I was on was pretty out in the middle of nowhere so I was surprised to even hear another car. It was slowing down, so was my beating heart I noticed. It had raced up during the flipping, so much so that I could feel it…I couldn't feel it that well anymore. I tried to breath…

And my eyes closed, and I was dead.

I don't know how long there was nothing. It's hard to explain, but you know how it is when you sleep and don't have any dreams? That's how this felt. There was nothing, and I wasn't aware there was nothing. I wasn't aware that I had suddenly started to fall down something akin to a giant black hole. I wasn't aware that when the hole finally stopped I was in the sky, which was teaming with energy, swirling with different colours that shouldn't be in the sky.

I wasn't aware that I was rapidly falling to the ground, my body still covered in blood, my fall causing onlookers to point up from where they sat around the grounds. Some were reading, some were playing games, others were just out on a beautiful day.

Nor was I aware that I had drawn the attention to a man that was clad in purple robes, and a long white beard that looked as if it could be tucked into his belt. I didn't know that this man was the one that stopped me from dying as I hit the ground. I didn't know that I was being brought into a school of magic which was a castle in Scotland (far away from my native Michigan)

And I didn't know that magic from a medi-witch in the school's hospital wing saved me from dying again.