Hermione had decided that death was beautiful. It was as if someone had dropped her into outer space, into cool darkness punctuated by starlight and swirling galaxies. It was an incomplete blackness, making Hermione feel relaxed in her surroundings. Weightless, she floated through the immaterial darkness aimlessly, not able to control where she went and – honestly – not really caring. Hermione knew who she was and what she was, and therefore knew that having transparent skin and floating around in space was abnormal. However, there was something….something hovering at the edges of her consciousness…..a dark something, a something filled with responsibility and melancholy…..so, Hermione ignored it.

She felt off-kilter at times, as if her hands were idol, empty, as if she needed something to hold. A book, her mind supplied. Or, maybe another hand?

Hermione's head hurt. She had no idea where that last thought had come from, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the answer was contained in the inky blackness at the corners of her consciousness. But the blackness was unpleasant, and she didn't like having to deal with unpleasantness. No, she thought forcefully, pushing the dark thoughts away and focusing on her starlit universe. This floating is wonderful.

Hermione had no sense of time in her physical state, so she could not say how long she was floating before she started hearing voices. It started out very quiet, just one word; "Hermione".

My name, she thought. What's saying my name?

In her mind Hermione got the briefest flash of an image; a pair of pale, dry lips mouthing her name, the sound coming out in a wonderful whisper that sent shivers up her spine. This sensation caused Hermione's heart to flutter in her chest, her breathing becoming slightly erratic. Her head tilted – she had felt this way before. Almost painfully pushing away her nonchalant and peaceful state of mind, Hermione listened harder. She was nearly convinced that the word had been an auditory imagining when she heard a second name, said by the same voice: "Ron."

A memory stirred, painful and black, growling in her sub consciousness. I know Ron, she thought, wincing. Ron…

Like a black tidal wave, images crashed painfully against the walls of Hermione's skull.

She saw a freckled, red-headed boy, no older than eleven with dirt on his nose.

She saw the same boy, a little older, bandaged and hugging her in the middle of a brightly lit hallway filled with noise and light.

The boy on a bed, a cast around his leg.

His hair much longer now, the same boy sitting beside her in the stands for an outdoor event.

Casting spells against her in a mirrored room.

Flying on a broom, his face bright, circling the pitch in victory.

The boy – now a young man – standing outside of a tent yelling at her, tears filling her eyes as her very soul was torn apart.

She and the young man standing together in a dark chamber, looking into each other's' eyes, leaning in, lips touching…

The young man shouting again, his face red, but this time she wasn't crying; she had her suitcase in her hand, and was walking out the door.

Ron.

Hermione's mind was reeling from the sudden influx of memories, each one more confusing than the last. Faces and places were blurred out, the only thing clear to her was the red-headed man and herself. Ron, she thought. Not just the red-headed man. This is Ron, my friend. We were….were we at school together? Where are all these memories coming from?

Always needing to know everything, Hermione's brain was shrieking in distress. Blank patches and uncertainties hovered on the edges of her mind, frustrating her to no end. Her consciousness clawed furiously at the hazy memories, trying unsuccessfully to pull images in to fill the voids. The blackness seemed to laugh, the sound echoing eerily around her strangely empty mind.

Amidst her struggles, another word rang clear through the strange laughter and the sounds of her frustration; this one was from a different voice, but Hermione heard the word perfectly.

Luna.

Another set of images bombarded her, filled with flashes of blonde and radishes and converse sneakers that had no place in the wizarding world. Some of the greyed faces and places filled in, Luna Lovegood's beaming smile adding a wonderful light to Hermione's memories. Feeling whiplashed but determined, Hermione organized her new thoughts and allowed the blackness to press in slightly on her consciousness. You want to do it this way? she challenged it. Fine, we'll do it this way.

"Dean."

"Harry."

"Fred."

"Molly."

"Seamus."

"McGonagall."

"Ginny."

"Lavender."

"Neville."

"Slughorn."

Slowly and painstakingly, Hermione's thoughts became detailed; grey, blurry faces were replaced with clear images, full conversations and events came back to her, emotion filling in some of the gaps. By the time the flow of words was slowing down, there was a very small pool of blackness left in the back of Hermione's mind. Snarling and snapping at her, the monster seemed to be filled with unhappiness and discord. Looking down, Hermione noticed that she was no longer so transparent and carefree; instead, her skin was pale and clearly three-dimensional, her arms littered with cuts and bruises. Flashes of pain seared through her mind, but she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. Bracing herself, Hermione was reaching forward to pull the dark thought-creature into the forefront of her mind when suddenly another word came flashing through space, this one causing a veritable hurricane of images, smells, and memories: "Draco".

With this one word, Hermione froze. Blackness pressed in on her like a wave, causing her to bite through her lip and taste coppery blood.

A young, greasy blonde extending his hand to the scruffy black-haired boy – Harry, Hermione corrected herself.

The same boy calling her a mublood, his hatred obvious in his slate-grey eyes, Hermione feeling the words cut into her like a knife.

Out by Hagrid's hut, Hermione felt rage flood her body as she punched the blonde boy in the face. She smiled as she saw the astonishment and fear in his eyes.

Glares shot across a full classroom as Hermione tried to transfigure Draco's hurtful "Potter Stinks" badge into a bouquet of pink flowers. When she succeeded, Draco turned to glare at her and incinerated the plants with a muttered charm.

Draco wearing a gleaming "Inquisitorial Squad" badge, grinning maliciously at Hermione in particular as the entire DA stood in front of Umbridge and her minions. Hermione raised an eyebrow and intensified her glare, feeling her anger bubbling up within her, wanting to smash her fist into that blonde head again.

Looking as if he'd aged a hundred years, Draco walked into an empty classroom. Hermione followed him, closing the door behind her. He whirled around, his eyes bloodshot, hair lanky, skin paler than usual, and not speaking a word, Hermione pressed a vial of Pepper-Up Potion into the blonde's hand. Draco attempted to muster a sneer, spitting out, "What's this, mudblood?"

Hermione shrugged. "You don't have to take it, Draco," she said. "But it'll help you get through this OWL and survive. I saw how tired you've been all year, and I don't know why. Maybe it's to do with your father being arrested – I don't know, and frankly I don't care. But I don't want to be the only one in Snape's Advanced Potions NEWT class next year, so I'd advise you to take it."

She turned to go, not looking at Draco's reaction or to see whether or not he pocketed the vial. "Granger," he called out, and she stopped, still not turning around. "….don't expect me to thank you."

Hermione smiled, knowing that from a Malfoy that was as close to a thank-you as one was ever likely to get.

The first thing Hermione felt was scorching heat, and she knew that she was back in the Room of Requirement fighting for her life. Flying by a pile of rubble, Hermione saw Draco scrambling to stay above the fiendfyre. His eyes were wide with panic, his skin glistening with sweat. "Hermione!" he called out as she came close. "Please," he said, barely audible over the crackling of the fire. Making a split-second decision, she reached for his hand…but her sweaty fingers and his sweaty fingers couldn't quite grasp one another, and he slipped out of her grip. Her heart seemed to fall from her chest as she watched Draco's eyes go dull, only to widen with shock as Harry swooped by and grabbed the blonde by the waist.

Coming face-to-face with him on the quidditch pitch, battling her mistrust.

Seeing the words on his door.

Tears in his eyes.

The moment where she felt her chest flip when she looked at Draco and knew she had fallen for him.

Horrible thick scars running up and down his arms, wiped away by her tender kisses and tears.

His fingers laced with hers, fitting perfectly together as if they were meant to meet.

Her head on his shoulder.

His smile.

Beautiful grey eyes laced with hurt but overwhelmed with the desire to love.

His smell, a mix of oak and spices and warm summer days trapped inside of his skin.

Whispered promises in the library.

Defeat clouding the beautiful sky-grey eyes, a flash of green light splitting the air.

The feeling of his lips sliding over hers, completing both of them.

Draco.

When Hermione fully regained consciousness, her head was spinning and her heart was beating out of control. I have to get back, she thought, panicked. I can't leave him, I can't I can't I can't I can't….

Panicked, Hermione began flailing her arms to move in the now-oppressive darkness. Sharp pain shot from her collarbone, leg, and head all through her body, but she fought through it. Tears streaked down her now entirely-substantial, bloodied cheeks, but Hermione Granger was not broken that easily. She had a backbone made of steel and a heart made of gold, and in her mind a little bit of blood had never killed anyone. Sending her last shots of energy into every fiber of her being, Hermione pushed herself a fraction of a millimeter through the dense space surrounding her. She had only managed to move a few inches.

Hermione sagged, her small stash of energy fruitlessly wasted. If I had my wand this would be so much easier, she said, trying to keep her thoughts together. Just being in the strange space made her head light, encouraging her just-collected memories to diffract and scatter uselessly. She felt this odd pull to let it all go, send them scattering off into the blackness around her…. No! she said firmly, squeezing her thoughts into a tight ball. I refuse to part with these!

Now it was the darkness around her that formed into a dark, growling creature with glowing white-hot eyes that bored into Hermione's mind. Made out of blackness punctuated by stars, this monster had formed from the very air around her. "Give in, girl," the dark creature hissed, the words echoing in the endless space around her. Hermione's eyes grew wide, her soul chilled to the very core. "Fleshy ones are never meant to stay here," it continued, its voice sounding like breaking china and howling wind. "Become a Transparent once again and you may remain."

"But I don't want to remain!" Hermione said, her voice sounding raw and unused. "I have to get back!"

"Fleshy ones can never return," the creature spat, a cool gust of damp-smelling wind whirling around Hermione's face. "Fleshy ones become Transparents, then fleshy ones disappear. It is the way of thingsssssss."

"Well I don't like the way of things," Hermione said stubbornly, watching as the creature's white eyes narrowed. "I plan on returning to the ones I love, and I will take as long as I bloody have to but I will get there."

The dark creature shrieked, a horrible high-pitched noise that curdled Hermione's blood and caused her to curl in on herself. "Witch is making mistake," the thing hissed. "Did you not like the peace and quiet of my plain? The relaxation? The lack of responsibility?"

Hermione felt her mind straying to her floating sensation, entirely at ease with the world around her, nothing but blissful darkness….No! she thought forcefully, recollecting her scattered thoughts. Glaring at the creature, Hermione set her lips into a frown. "I am going past you," she said darkly, "and I am returning home to see the ones I love."

A strange keening sound filled the space, and it took Hermione a minute to realize that the thing was laughing. "Good luck, witch," the monster laughed. "You shall need it….there is always a price, no matter what."

And with that, the creature once more dissolved into the inky blackness surrounding Hermione. She shuddered, thinking that she was basically swimming through that thing to move. Drawing upon the last of her energy and using all of her determination, Hermione pushed herself forwards and into the darkness.

After a few strokes, however, her new-found energy seemed to disappear. Apparently being dead does not agree with me, Hermione thought bitterly, stretching her still-bleeding limbs. I have to keep going, though! Somehow….

Just then, sound filled the darkness. At first Hermione believed that it was the creature speaking to her once again, back to mock her for her futile attempt, but the voice was wrong….too soft….Hermione listened hard, focusing so as to hear what it was actually saying.

"….I think I love you, Hermione."

An electric tingle zipped up Hermione's spine, and she could feel blood once again flowing down into her fingertips and invigorating her brain. Draco!

Pushing forward, using Draco's voice as an energy source, Hermione kept listening.

"….I cared about you, deeply…."

Her heart fluttering, she gained another few inches.

"….little things that made me realize it…."

-another bit of darkness behind her-

"…you're missing, and I can feel it through my whole soul…."

-a pang of loss and love, as well as another small distance-

"…..soul mate….."

-fireworks in her stomach-

"…..can't go on without her….."

-at least six inches-

"….Hermione Granger, you have to wake up…."

-a spurt of energy resulting in a surprisingly large distance-

"…you promised you wouldn't leave me…."

-had she ever had this much energy?-

"….please come back to me Hermione. I love you."

With a crow of triumph, Hermione launched herself forward, spinning further into space. Her motion slowed, however, and she came to rest just in front of a glowing star. From a distance Hermione had disregarded this as just another feature in this strange amorphous landscape, but up close she could see that it was different; rather than glow the hot-white of the monster's eyes – like the rest of the stars – this one pulsed a distinct silver. This star felt…similar somehow. As if Hermione recognized it from somewhere. Oh, but that's silly! she scoffed. There's no way I'd know any silver stars, I mean honestly….wait a moment…..

Reaching out tentatively, her pulse sounding like a bass drum inside of her ears, Hermione lightly rested a fingertip on top of the star. It was cool to the touch, but she immediately felt a familiar electrical charge shoot through her battered body. A wonderful warm feeling flowed through to Hermione's toes, making her smile as a part of her she didn't really realize was empty filled. "That's my magic," she whispered softly, in awe of the small, glowing sphere. "This…this must be my magical core."

Hermione gingerly cradled the precious light in her cupped palms, admiring the silver star. Suddenly, a nearly transparent hand ghosted over the light. "Pretty," a hollow voice said. "Very pretty."

Hermione's neck snapped up, and she reeled backwards. There, just in front of her, was a barely-visible apparition of Sirius Black. His eyes were haunted, hair matted beyond belief, cheeks sunken in, dead looking. This was just like her nightmares, only there was no veil at the Ministry of Magic separating them. He was right in front of her. "S…Sirius?" Hermione whispered, the word choking her.

Sirius cocked his head. "Is that my name?" he asked softly.

Nodding, Hermione pushed back the feeling of nausea in her chest. "Yes," she affirmed. "Sirius Black."

A flash of something passed behind Black's eyes, and his face grew tense. "Did you know me?" he asked, struggling to get the question out.

Again, Hermione nodded. "Decently well. You were a very good man, Sirius – a tad rambunctious and headstrong at times, but your soul was beautiful. You died too soon, and your…your godson….he misses you."

Hermione reached up to brush a tear away from her eye, but stayed her hand when Sirius' hand came close to her face. He moved as if to dry her tears, but his hand merely passed through her skin and caused Hermione to shudder. Sirius winced. "You…you cry for me?" he asked, his eyes wide and bewildered.

Smiling wanly, Hermione nodded. "You were a good friend to all of us Sirius."

It was just then that Sirius appeared to notice the light in her hands. His eyes grew even wider. "You are leaving, shining girl?" he asked her.

"If I can," Hermione said, looking down at the silver star.

Just then, an ear-splitting scream filled the black space, causing both Sirius and Hermione to start. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," Sirius muttered, his face going even paler (if that was possible). "You've made the Guardian upset," he whispered. "No one leaves. That's the rule."

Hermione placed her hand above Sirius' transparent shoulder, causing the spirit to look up at her in surprise. "Come with me, Sirius," she said, smiling. "Come back with me to Hogwarts."

The word had some sort of meaning to the spirit, but Sirius dolefully shook his head. "You are a fleshy one," he said. "I am a Transparent. I cannot go." Hermione tried to interject, but Sirius placed his finger just over her lips. "Thank you for telling me my name, shining girl."

Hermione let another few tears slip from her eyes, her smile sad but still in place. "We all love you Sirius," she said softly. "Harry most of all. Please don't forget."

Sirius nodded forcefully, a familiar determination in his brown eyes. Another earth-shattering roar split the space, and this time the Guardian materialized just in front of Sirius and Hermione. "You cannot leave, witch!" he shrieked, white-hot eyes narrowed and burning.

"Well I am!" Hermione shouted back, cradling her aura carefully. "So sod off, you nasty bugger!"

The Sirius ghost seemed to smile, despite the fact that he was trembling in fear before his master. It was then that the Guardian appeared to notice Black. "Step aside, Transparent," he hissed, "It is not your place to interfere in these affairssssss."

"I am not just Transparent," Sirius said firmly, looking up into his master's burning eyes. It was obvious to Hermione that he was afraid, but the simple act of defiance caused the Guardian to start.

"….excuse me?" he spat.

"I. Am. Not. Just. Transparent." Sirius said firmly, gaining more confidence. "My name is Sirius Black. I am a godfather and a friend, and this dark prison will no longer hold me!"

The Guardian shrieked again, the sound nearly deafening Hermione and causing Sirius to stumble backwards through space. "YOU DARE!" the monster shouted, his voice echoing impossibly. "YOU DARE GO AGAINST YOUR MASTER?!"

"Master no longer," Sirius snarled, and he lunged at the mass of endless darkness.

"Sirius, no!" Hermione shouted.

Rather than struggle or protest, Sirius just looked back and smiled as the Guardian suspended him in midair. "Use your light, shining girl," he said. "Use your light. Go home."

And with that, the guardian dropped Sirius into a gaping black hole that must have been the monster's excuse for a mouth, and Hermione felt like she was going to be sick. Keeping her head as best as she could, compartmentalizing the grief for another time, Hermione looked at the light in her hands. "Apparate, please, apparate," she chanted, watching her aura glow. "C'mon, silver soul, show me you're good for something! APPARATE TO HOGWARTS GODDAMN YOU!"

Hermione felt a familiar nausea coming on, and just about whooped for joy. However, her exhilaration had come too soon; a star-speckled, black hand closed around a part of her aura, dampening the light. The other half kept glowing steadfastly, however, and soon the hand disappeared with a prolonged howl. To Hermione's dismay, the part of her aura that the Guardian had touched remained black during apparition, and the entire orb shortly disappeared as her vision was flooded with black.

Hermione was no longer floating, her head pressed against something soft and warm, another warmth hovering around her hip. She could feel light puffs of air rustle against her hair, and the familiar smell of oak and spices filled her nose. "Draco," she murmured, knowing her voice was barely audible, knowing that it wouldn't have been understandable.

The warmth around her stiffened. "Her….Hermione?" an excited, emotional whisper replied. "Hermione, are you awake?"

To reply, Hermione used all of her available energy to slowly open her eyes. She was met with a truly beautiful sight; blonde hair, pale skin, dry, thin lips, and a pair of grey eyes that were fill to the brim with love, tears, and happiness. "Oh, Hermione," he exhaled, his lips curving into a gorgeous smile.

If she could have, Hermione would have smiled too. However, after one has nearly died and come back to life, one is rightfully rather exhausted, and all of Hermione's muscles screamed for rest. Instead, she contented herself with a happy blink and the feeling of Draco's lips against her forehead before she fell asleep.

She was home.

A/N: Alrighty, we're approaching the end of our story folks! All's not done yet, but I'd estimate no more than three chapters should follow this one. Maybe four. I won't be able to write for a while, so please don't look for an update until after January 14th. Please R&R, the muse loves it!

Happy new year, everyone! All the best for 2013! May it be a very Potter year. ~sneakyslytherin