So this is my first Harry Potter fanfic I've every written so I'm extremely nervous. I've read all the books and seen all the movies but my memory isn't the best. If I mess up please don't destroy me. I got this idea after spending four hours reading Bellamione fics... It's interesting at the very least.

Review if you wish

~EvilKingMacabre

PS I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING BUT THE WEIRD PLOT LINE.

Chapter 1: Awakening

Few words were spoken but they conveyed more than any speech could. "Hermione Granger, a woman like no other. Her intelligence couldn't be surpassed and her bravery never to be forgotten." There were no audible sounds coming from the observers of the funeral. It was a silent sob. Ron and Harry were the most affected while Minerva shed a tear or three. The pain in their chests was great and heavy. Hermione was actually gone. Harry had watched her fight courageously against a Death Eater but it wasn't enough. He could tell at the time Hermione was exhausted. She fought so strongly but fell victim to bad reflexes and the killing curse.

The air was light and there was a white illumination to the room. It was plain but had a door that looked ancient and decrepit. Hermione had no figment of where she was. The last thing she remembered was experiencing all feeling escape her body at once. All the warmth of her body just disappeared. Her last vision was of a blurred person and a green light. What had happened to her she wondered. Her feet moved forward towards the door. Then the room seemed to lengthen itself — moving away from her. Next a maze of mirrors appeared. There was a realization then when she had no reflection. Her astonishment controlled her. She was frozen in place for what seemed to be eternity though truly was a few seconds. Hermione reached out to touch the mirror but her hand passed right through it. Her brain pieced things together quickly. It was clear to her that the green light she saw was her killer's magic.

"I was hit with the killing curse," she mumbled to no one. It wouldn't sink in to her however how much this would hurt emotionally. For now she was numb of everything.

Through maze of mirrors she went with the door continuously moving away from her. Her temper was getting worse and sure enough she cracked. She wanted out of this blank space. She wished herself to be at the other side of the door. With a flash of light she appeared on the main staircase of Hogwarts, the place she died. Being a ghost she moved herself effortlessly to the to the courtyard. She tried to leave the grounds, but she was stopped. She walked past the bridge but then found herself standing back in front of the castle doors.

Hermione was quick to understand she was stuck of the grounds of Hogwarts. She recalled reading that some ghosts become trapped to a location because of the need of closure, but what was there for her to finish? What confused her more than anything was how she was alone. There seemed to be no other students who died during the battle roaming around. It was only Hermione. Was she stuck in some plane of existence unknown to anyone? The possibilities boggled her mind. There was a sadness that accompanied that confusion. She was dead and alone never to see Ron or Harry again.

The witch turned around a walked through the grand doors. When she reached the other side she shuttered from the unpleasant warmth that jolted through her suddenly. It was as if a heat was spilled all throughout her spirit. McGonagall has walked right through her. When she did it was like an energy in the room sent chills down both of them. The logic Hermione knew was failing her. How could she feel if she had no body!

"This is mad…"

Hermione had been wondering the castle for days exploring. She had nothing else to do. Her exploration discovered a room that seemed untouched for a long time. It was close to the library which made her want to read but alas she couldn't pick up objects. That was her next objective. Hermione knew somehow she could do it and so she tried countless times to pick up a vase. It took nearly two hours before she could pick it up. Her concentration however was growing thin. Once the vase was in her hand, seconds later, it was in pieces on the floor.

There were many grunts and sharp inhales of frustration coming from Hermione. Her mind filled with self-doubt. More importantly her mind kept asking "why." She was always taught the afterlife was happy — joyful — but she guessed now that was only if you went to heaven. Another question of "what" entered the thoughts. What did she do wrong to trap her in the broken castle. An uneasy feeling filled her spirit. She felt like she was being watched when there wasn't another soul or paintings in the room. Nothing felt right but Hermione wearily knew that would become her new normal.