Title: Tourniquet

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary:

Hermione Jane Granger was dead. That didn't explain, however, why her soul was

Stuck at Malfoy Manor…

Chapter One:

Six Feet Under

Wild, marvelous, dangerous, and intelligent could be a few words to describe the late Hermione Granger. It was a real shame that Hermione had to die; she was the most brilliant witch since Rowena Ravenclaw herself! Well, in the Daily Prophet's opinion.

She had been missing for approximately twelve days until a stray dog had found her body, which surprisingly, had not decayed. She had a peaceful expression. The Aurors had offered one piece of comfort to the remaining Weaslys and Harry; she had a quick and painless execution. Days of mental awareness still could not soften the blow when they were called in to identify if it was really Hermione Jane Granger.

There wasn't a doubt.

At first there was denial. That could not be Hermione lying on a bed dead. She had survived the Hogwarts Siege, the War, the Persecution of Muggle Borns, the resurrection of Tom Riddle, and the final Battle just too die by a simple unknown spell. They had her remains cremated the following week.

Harry was furious, and then depression sunk in. Not even the news that Ginny was expecting a child, their child, could haul him out. Ron was cold, distant. He and Hermione were supposed to have married in late November. Only two months away. Ginny seemed unaffected, but Harry had heard her sob late at night.

But this didn't quite explain why Hermione's ghost was seemingly stuck with no way out at Malfoy Manor.

People say that when you die there is a white bright light that takes you to heaven or a red light that takes you to Hell.

That was a load of Bullshit.

Hermione didn't even know how she died. There was the sensation of being cold and warm, sad and happy, and then she found herself in a dark place. She didn't have her wand and worse of all she was alone. The darkness clawed at her soul and there was laugher, laughter at her fears.

Hermione was terrified. There was no Harry or Ron to come to her rescue, there was no one to help her. So she sat down on what she supposed was the floor and covered her ears humming loudly she tried to ignore the laughter. Laughter turned to shrieks and shrieks turned into silence.

She almost preferred the laughter. Then something searched through her memories, observing her defining moments and those when she was cowardly. It searched her most precious moments and those she wanted to erase.

Finally Hermione found herself in what she dubbed 'Heaven.' It had large buildings that duplicated those of the 1990's. She thought that everyone saw what she saw. Instead of libraries, Hermione's heaven consisted of Quidditch goalposts and museums. There were people that strolled around mindlessly. It wasn't until much later that Hermione realized that these people say there own heavens and that was what caused them to look mindless, she probably looked the same way to them.

Her life wasn't as simple A couple of days after entering Heaven Hermione learned how to watch those that were still alive as people were lead to believe it wasn't easy to kill Voldemort. People often envisioned that Harry had just snuck up on the long dead bastard and screamed Avada Kedrava.

Avada Kedrava…

It was what magicians used to do an amazing trick. It meant so little in the Muggle World; it was just a magic word, just a little insignificant word. Yet in the Wizarding World it meant a death sentence. She had killed thousand out of millions, hundreds out of thousands. And in those times she had made loads of enemies.

She watched helplessly as the Aurors confirmed her small family's worst fear. She was dead. She watched as Ron, red-faced demanded to see the body and she watched as Ginny, one week along, collapsed as she recognized the charm bracelet on her left wrist.

Hermione did all she could, she watched.

Hermione watched as thousands came to her cremating ceremony, some truly sympathetic and other like in any place where hypocritical bastards. Thy moaned and cried over the fact that she was dead but Hermione would've betted her next life that those tears were achieved by a simple non verbal spell.

Harry's lip curled in disgust on Earth's, Hermione snarled in heaven.

Stupid, idiotic, lying, back-stabbing, hypocritical, insensitive, sons of impregnated bitches, Hermione didn't need their sympathy when she was alive it'd be more than useless when she was dead.

Hermione had kept count of how long she had been dead which was approximately thirteen days. Hu-freaking-rah...

Hermione missed the days when she, Harry, and Ron would simply lie on her couch and remember the hilarious incidents in their lives. Harry would talk about using magic against Dudley and Ron would talk about embarrassing moments his siblings had made him pass.

"Once when Mum was giving Fred and George 'the talk' they told it all to me and then I started screaming the word Sex at the top of my lungs and since we used to have a parrot named Doc it started repeating the word and my Mum got red. Then there was the time when they tried to get me into an Unbreakable Vow…"

Hermione would try to summon their images but they always got fainter and fainter. She could only see their faces clear on Earth. One day two spirits who she had named dumb and dumber were joking that they would pass to the 'real' world that day. So in the end they dared each other to try it. A wormhole was created which was left opened.

'It's a chance,' Hermione thought, 'to see my friends.'

So she passed through the wormhole which closed in a second after she had passed through.

Draco Lucien Malfoy was now nineteen. Young, attractive and filthy rich, what else could a man possibly want?

'A freaking family' he though grimly. Sure he had his whores here and there, but only the money mattered to them. Gold diggers plus a Malfoy equals disaster. Yet Draco didn't mind, he wasn't about to go without shagging for forty days and forty nights.

Running his long fingers through his hair he sat down and drank a cup of fire whisky. It had been a stressful week for him. The house elves constantly broke timeless Malfoy artifacts. Blaise Zabini, his partner was expecting his first born, and his Mother had died.

Fan-fucking-tastic…

Blaise's daughter was due at any moment. Ginny Weasly was the mother, how… ironic was the only word he could find that fit their situation. Since they had accidentally met at the café where she worked he had been obsessed over the she weasel. Even Draco had to admit she wasn't bad looking.

CRASH

Damn, stupid, clumsy, ingrate house elf.

"Missy is most sorry master! Should I iron my ears, bang my head against the wall?"

The house elf named Missy had one main reason to be scared. She had broken Narcissa's favorite crystal black cat. After her death Draco had warned the house elves that of they broke a single artifact that belonged to his Mother a fate worse than death would descend upon them. Unlucky for Missy that had happened to be the first anniversary gift Lucious had given his deceased wife.

The house elf was lucky he was also dead but Draco punished his elves more severely than any other pureblood family.

"Do you know what is going to happen now you little ingrate?"

Draco's voiced was laced with venom and Missy shrunk back. Her master's temper ran short, especially where his Mother was concerned. He took a menacing step toward the frightened house elf and grabbed her by her long ears. "I'm not going to kill, no; I'm going to do so much worse that you'll be hoping that you were never born."

"Not Missy's fault. Missy is a good house elf, yes she is. My whole family ha' been servin' the Malfoys. Please Dragon has mercy on little Missy. Not her fault, she was cleaning when suddenly the cat shattered in Missy's hand. The dead play with the elves magic. There is a dead one in this house Master, not Missy's fault. She was cleaning as she always had Mater!"

Draco was curious at this revelation. The house elf had said that the dead messed up the elves magic. Perhaps it was his Mother or some other person with the Malfoy name. No one else would dare roam the manor, dead or alive.

Or maybe it was Voldemort back from the dead hoping to decapitate him. Ever since he had deserted the Death Eater's for the Order the remaining Death Eaters that claimed they had turned over a new leaf had resented him. While they were being tried for crimes Draco was living a life of luxury. Nott especially hated him since it was Draco who had proved that Theodore's father had killed Professor McGonagall.

"Missy, you will iron your ears for thirty minutes then hang yourself from the tip of your toes using nails from the Gran Ceiling, then another house elf will carefully carve out your finger and put you on boiling hot water for thirty minute then you will be placed in the garden o be buried alive. After that you will continue with your chores which are to be done in ten minutes after that if not you will a worse fate. I have been lenient because you have revealed useful information. I want more on how the dead play with your filthy kind's magic."

Amazingly Missy had finished everything. Malfoy was extremely displeased he would've loved to harm that stupid elf further but the information she had given him was intriguing.

"So, you are telling me that there is a spirit in this manor that is not of the Malfoy Family?"

"Yes, Master, the spirit clashes with our daily chores trying to make its presence known because it does not know this place."

"And all Malfoys know at least one room in this blasted house."

"Master had read my thoughts."

"Missy, I want you to find out this spirit and take it out of my home now."

"Yes, Master."

Curios, he thought, very curious. Who would enter Malfoy Manor, who would fool all its magic defenses? Magic defenses that even the dead could not breech?

Who indeed?

The next day Missy told him that it was indeed a female, she had died recently, but the spirit was elusive.

"She has a purpose here Master Draco; it is unwise to force her out. She was a powerful witch when she was alive. Very powerful… but she is not of the Malfoy family that much is certain. She is muggle born and-"

"Hermione Granger… what is your purpose here?"

The furniture rattled and Draco smirked.

"I thought you were invincible, who did you in?"

The air became dense and Missy began to cough. A loud shrill scream pierced the air and Draco continued to stand the smirk growing wider and wider. Finally, the late Hermione appeared dressed in casual blue jeans and a white turtleneck. There was a large hole where her heart was supposed to be, Draco's smirk faltered a bit but it still remained Missy's face turned a deep green.

"That is where you come in Draco Malfoy."