A Place in Your Soul

Summary: For ordinary humans, afterlife was a relatively simple matter; you went there, existed there for your allotted time and then had your spirit particles recycled, much like the makeup of the physical body is recycled after death. For witches and wizards, however, things weren't quite that simple.

Additional notes: This story follows the post-death stories of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville. It mostly takes place in the inner world of their respective wielder and it will therefore likely take a while to realize whose zanpakuto each of them are. This is especially true as I opted for zanpakuto whose spirits are not shown in canon. In other words, they are zanpakuto that we likely know little about.

Chapter One: In Which Hermione Dies and is Reborn

For ordinary humans the afterlife was a relatively simple matter; it was well known among the dead that you ended up a place called Soul Society, in the larger section of it named the Rukongai. There, most lived out their afterlife in relative peace. The only interruption to this peace was the appearance of another type of human soul, the kind that had not been able to move on in peace and thus become a greedy, voracious monster known as a hollow.

Otherwise, the main differences between life and the afterlife was the lack of technology and the fact that they didn't need to eat. At least, for most people in rukongai this was the undisputed truth. There were in fact a group of people that needed to eat, and they often went on to become the protectors and peacekeepers of the afterlife; they were the people with special spiritual strength, the only ones capable of fighting the hollows successfully and the ones who helped with the passing – they were the shinigami; past, present and future.

What most people in rukongai either didn't know or else didn't particularly care for was the shinigami were joined with an invisible partner, unique to each shinigami. This partner served as their weapon, as the medium and amplifier for their power and, in some cases, as the advisor and/or friend with the most intimate knowledge of the shinigami.

But where did these zanpakuto come from then? Well, I have only told you what happens to the unremarkable, ordinary human, haven't I? And for there to be something called "ordinary humans" there has to be a kind of human that isn't included in that group. These not-so-ordinary humans called themselves "magical". This really referred to them having been born with a special kind of energy, one that allowed them to do incredible things in life and one that had also sealed their fate after they died.

The passing for a witch or wizard, unlike the passing of an ordinary soul, required no help from shinigami. They also weren't in danger of turning into hollows if they lingered, but that is a subject for another time. So, instead of waiting for the guardians of the afterlife to appear, the power inside the witch or wizard would take hold and send them over all on its own. The problem with this was that, while the power undoubtedly kept all the spirit particles together, the specific makeup could change drastically. Another hazard of this method was that the spirit arriving in the afterlife was in such an unstable state that it couldn't remain as an independent being. Thus the spirit had to latch onto another soul, one that could house it properly without getting hurt and form a symbiotic co-existence…

…-

Hermione was the first one of them to die. At the age of 49 she came down with a chronic disease. Thankfully it was rare (she was one of 14 or 15 known cases in Brittan), but that also meant that there had been no cure. All that could be done was treat the symptoms to the best of their abilities, which was just barely enough to lead a somewhat normal life.

She finally passed away two years after getting the diagnosis and the funeral was rather spectacular. Hermione was loved by many, respected by several more and known by most of magical Brittan – not least of her campaigns to bring equal rights to werewolves, house-elves and several other groups. Her hard work had brought about several changes in the law during the few years she had been active and a lot of fine things were said about her. Had she been present to hear them, she would have undoubtedly have been touched by both what was said and the sincerity with which it was said.

Unfortunately for her, however, she had had no real fear of death and been pulled from the mortal world barely a second after she died. Then a lot of things had happened so quickly that she was barely aware of them happening and certainly didn't have time to properly register that they had happened until it was all over.

What had happened was, of course, that her magic had pulled her through the non-space between the human world and the afterlife. In passing through the separating non-material her apparent shape had been dissolved and the particles that formed her soul had been held together by only her magic. Because her magic was too busy holding her together it couldn't control when or where she ended up – heck, there wasn't really any guarantee that they really arrived on the other side; they might just get thrown back out in the human world. But no matter where she had ended up her magic alone hadn't been able to put her back together properly and so she had latched on to the closest soul that had been strong enough to help her.

She was stable now. The little soul had given her stability, yes, but the price had been high. She was trapped here, she knew. This place, the inner world of another soul, was where she was forced to live out her afterlife. She would never get to meet her parents, her husband, her children or her friends. She was all alone in here and the only person she would meet was the little soul she was attached to.

It was a heavy realization, that she would most likely never see anyone she knew again. She realised that silent tears were making their way down her cheeks and tried to wipe them away, but it was no use. In the end, the pain of it all became too much and she broke down in sobs. She cried until she had no tears left and afterwards she was so tired that she could hardly remain conscious. She gave in to the demands of her spirit-body and drifted away into sleep. Surely, by the time she woke up, she would be in a better mental shape to deal with the adjustment to this new life.

Hermione woke up to a still rather dark world. It wasn't the shape-less absolute darkness of a new-born anymore, but still mostly dark and shapeless. A tiny light shone from a lantern that hung above her. The lantern was in a traditional Japanese style; a small, round thing clad in thin paper. It was a plain yellow colour, she noticed, no decorations or anything of the sort.

In the light of the tiny lantern she began to explore what little of her new home she could. Most hadn't formed yet, as her gracious host was so small still. From what she could tell, she was situated on something that seemed suspiciously like a wooden bridge. The wood underneath her was plain and easy to feel and see, as were the plain wooden railing on either side of her. She couldn't see either end of the bridge, but she suspected that that was because there was nothing at either end yet. It would come, eventually, but for now this was it.

She reached out a hand to see if she could feel what was under the bridge, but stopped at the sight of her hand. Her hand didn't look like she remembered it. She knew her magic hadn't been able to hold her together properly, but surely it should have been able to make her at least look somewhat like she used to. But apparently that wasn't the case.

Her fingers were considerably longer than she remembered; longer and thinner. She thought it looked like it was a different colour too, but it was hard to tell in the yellow light from the lantern. The nails were completely gone and replaced with something that looked like sharp scales or claws. They were dark, so dark that she felt fairly certain that they were black.

This discovery prompted her to try and get a better look at the rest of her appearance. She couldn't see very well and she had no mirror to help her, but it looked like she had a human or humanoid shape. That was good. She was dressed in what looked (and felt) like a bathing suit, something that could be some kind of wide trousers, but could also have been a long, wide skirt and something that kind of reminded of a jacket or a coat. The material was thinner, though; soft and light. The arms only came down to about her elbows, leaving her forearms bare, and hung open to reveal the bathing suit-like garment she wore underneath. The bathing suit was dark, while the trousers/skirt-thing and coat-thing were light in colour.

Her feet were bare and looked more or less human. The nails had changed the same way that they had on her hands, but that was the most obvious difference. Well, that and the colour.

She felt for her hair, to try and determine how that could have changed. It seemed to have become suddenly tame overnight and lay in a fashion similar to how she had worn it at the yule ball all those years ago. That was about as much as she could determine without a mirror and better light though, and she would have to wait for those until her host grew up a bit.

Having satisfied her curiosity with her appearance for now, she turned back to her original task. She reached out once more to see if there was water under the bridge. As it were, there was definitely water under it. She couldn't see it among the black, but she could feel it. It was cool and still and deep. She just knew somehow that it was deep, much deeper than she could determine with just the hand she had lowered into the dark water.

Was this… Was this the result of her tears, her crying, earlier? The thought came unbidden, but it didn't feel entirely unlikely. She had cried so much and so long and there had truly been nothing here when she came. It wasn't that far-fetched that her tears had become the vast waters on which there was only a single, short bridge so far.

Sighing she made herself comfortable on the bridge. She couldn't do much else before her world became a little bigger. She barely noticed that she had left that one arm hanging off the bridge and that her hand was still in the water. Instead she listened to the silence. No, it wasn't quite silent. There was a sound, a faint steady sound. It sounded like… It was a heart beating. She almost smiled to herself. She would live her afterlife to the sound of another's heartbeat. She absently wondered if she always would. She hoped so; it was a sound she didn't mind at all.