[summary] – Regulus/Hermione [Ghost!AU] She had made it a point to know the names and histories of every ghost in the castle, which is why, upon entering the library, she stopped in confusion. Because there he was.

A/N – This is for Myc [Mycroft-mione]. I hope you like it :)

Also, Hermione's in Ravenclaw in this AU. I do mention it, but not until the second section, I think.


30th October, 1991

She had made it a point to know the names and histories of every ghost in the castle, which is why, upon entering the library, she stopped in confusion. Because there he was, wandering through the shelves of books, his fingers trailing through each of the spines. He froze when he caught sight of her, frowning.

"Who are you?" she blurted before she could think of something more polite to say. He tipped his head to the side. "I mean," she started again. "I've never seen you before. And I know all the ghosts– Well, I don't know them, so much as know of them–"

"I find that highly unlikely," he said, watching her passively.

"No, I do!" she insisted. "There's the House ghosts; everyone knows them, obviously. And Myrtle–"

"What about Edgar?" he asked. She nodded enthusiastically.

"He's around the Quidditch Pitch. I'm not overly fond of the sport, myself, but I hear he helps out a lot in practices, and–"

"Edmund Grubb?" he interrupted.

"He died in the Great Hall," she answered instantly. "I missed breakfast everyday last week, 'cause he wouldn't let me in."

"Yeah, he used to do that to me a lot, too," he said, voice sounding distant. "Lord Draben," he said suddenly, his tone changing.

"He's with the ghost carollers, I think," she said. "He was a Cavalier when he was alive."

"Don't you have any friends?" he asked.

"Not really," she said softly. Something like regret passed across his features. She forced a smile onto her face. "I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Sir?"

"Well, I don't know your name," she huffed indignantly.

"Regulus," he said quietly. "Regulus Black."

"Are you related to the Headmaster? Phineas, I think," she asked, stepping towards him.

"Because my surname's Black?"

"Well, I just– I read that Wizarding families are all really connected, like– like you're all technically… related somehow, and–"

"Yes, he was an ancestor of mine," Regulus interrupted. "Least favourite Headmaster of Hogwarts, according to my brother," he said.

"What's your brother's name?" she asked, instantly regretting it. "Or– was… I'm sorry," she muttered.

"He's still alive, as far as I know," he said.

"Oh?" Hermione perked up instantly. "Where is he now? Does he visit?" Regulus laughed. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Even if he could, he wouldn't have visited." Regulus said, a sad smile crossing his features.

"Why? Was he a Squib?" Regulus frowned at that.

"No. He wasn't a Squib." He took a step backwards, partially into the bookshelf.

"No, I'm sorry!" she said, making an aborted gesture towards him. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," he muttered.

"Then please stay." He nodded slowly, drifting towards her.

.oOo.

30th October, 1992

"How come you disappeared for an entire year?" Hermione asked, seated next to Regulus in the library.

"It's Devil's Night," he said with a smirk. She frowned at him. "Okay, so that's not why I'm here," he quickly conceded. "But I can't tell you why I am."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because you don't need to know everything." She opened her mouth, as if to say something. "You really don't," he said. "Sometimes it's better to not know," he muttered.

"Why do you do that?" Hermione asked; if she were standing, she probably wouldn't have been able to restrain herself from childishly stamping her foot.

"Do what?"

"Say one thing, but the way you say it– It's like you're talking about something else." She glared at him, folding her arms across her chest.

"How old are you? Twelve?" he asked instead of answering. She paused for a moment, dropping her hands to her lap and pouting slightly.

"Yes."

"You act a lot older sometimes." She was a little indignant at the 'sometimes'. "And you always sound older," he said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore her now sullen silence. "You should enjoy your childhood while it lasts," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, jumping at the chance for more information. "Is that why you're here? Is something happening?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about," he said. "At least, not now."

"That's ridiculous, and you know it!" she snapped. "If it's something I'm going to need to worry about in the future, it's something I'm going to need to worry about now!" He smirked.

"That's the kind of attitude I'd expect from a Gryffindor."

"Well, I'm not in Gryffindor," she snapped, feeling slightly hurt. "And the other Houses can be brave, too," she said, her voice dropping to a quieter tone.

"I know," he said softly, his eyes taking on that far away look she was quickly becoming familiar with. "Maybe you should know, then," he said, his entire demeanour changing. "Have you heard of Voldemort?"

"Of course I have!" she said. "But– But I thought you weren't supposed to say his name."

"So you have heard of him," he said, looking pleased. "That saves me some explaining."

.oOo.

30th October, 1993

"This is your brother, isn't it?" She slammed the Daily Prophet onto the table – she always thought of it as their table, despite only having met him at it twice – mouthing an apology towards Madam Pince and quietly sitting down. Regulus glanced at the paper, disinterestedly, and lifted a shoulder.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me your brother's a felon?" she hissed, pushing the paper fully into his line of sight. Regulus sighed, following the paper with his eyes.

"I come from a family of questionable morals. What he supposedly did is nothing compared to what some of them have done," he said.

"Nothing? How can you say that? He–" She stopped herself, turning to frown at him. After a pause, she continued. "Supposedly? You think he didn't do it?" Regulus shrugged.

"He was an idiot. He certainly had his faults, but betraying his friends was not one of them," Regulus said.

"So who killed them?" she asked. "Their son goes here, you know."

"Of course I know that," Regulus said indignantly. "I'm dead, not oblivious."

"How did you die? I mean– I can ask that, right? It's not rude, is it?" Her face was slowly turning a bright red that travelled all the way down her neck.

"It is rude," he said. Hermione opened her mouth, ready to apologise, but Regulus spoke before she could. "I drowned," he said. Hermione thought there was probably more to that story, but decided she'd pried enough.

"The school's pretty much on lockdown," she said, turning the conversation back to the original topic. Regulus scoffed. "What? He's still dangerous," she said. "He was actually caught killing one of his friends – Peter, I think his name was – and what he did to those Muggles! He–"

"Pettigrew?" Regulus asked.

"Yeah, I– I think so," Hermione stuttered. Regulus seemed to be thinking, a slight frown furrowed his brow. But thinking about what, Hermione couldn't say.

"Wormtail?" he said slowly.

"I don't know what that means."

"It's just… a name I remember my brother using," he muttered, seemingly lost in thought. "I think he was talking about the Pettigrew boy, but… And someone else, too. He used that name."

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. Regulus started then, as though he'd briefly forgotten she was there.

"Oh, nothing," he said with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure it's nothing. Pettigrew's dead, anyway, so it doesn't matter."

"Oh." Hermione frowned; it was a little annoying, but she supposed he had no reason to include her in whatever he was thinking. "Okay."

"You don't need to worry about Sirius," he said suddenly, as though it had just occurred to him that she might be afraid. "He'll likely be after the Potter boy."

"I thought you said he didn't kill his friends?" Hermione asked. Regulus shrugged again.

"The Sirius I knew wouldn't have betrayed his friends. His family? Yes. In a heartbeat," Regulus said, and Hermione sensed some residual bitterness there. "But, then again, I didn't know him very well. Not at the end."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, placing her hand on top of his where it rested on the table. She was momentarily surprised to feel solid wood, before she remembered what he was. She withdrew her hand quickly.

"No."

"Alright," she conceded. "But if you ever do–"

"Why?" he asked. She frowned in confusion, trying to work out what he meant. "Why do you care?" he clarified.

"That's what friends are for," she said. "And, if you're not my friend, you're the closest I've got to one."

"We're friends?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

"I think of you as a friend," Hermione said. "I have to go now. Curfew." She stood up slowly. "I'll see you again next year?" she asked hopefully. Regulus nodded. She could feel his questioning eyes following her from the room.

.oOo.

30th October, 1994

Hermione looked around the library, disappointed. They had never agreed to meet before, she'd always just assumed…

"Aren't you joining the festivities in the Great Hall?" Regulus asked, stepping through the door behind her. Hermione spun around, heart racing.

"You scared me!" she said, clutching her book to her chest.

"Sorry." He smirked, seeming more amused than apologetic, and Hermione glared at him, her heart rate slowing back to normal. "But why are you here?" he asked. She frowned, hurt.

"To meet you," she said. She had thought it was obvious, but he was looking at her in confusion.

"Why?"

"I told you last time. You're my friend," she said. "I like spending time with you. And you're only here once a year…" She trailed off, hoping he would answer her unasked question. He nodded slowly.

"I've never had a friend before," he said. "Not one who didn't want something from me," he added, sounding almost as if he were remembering something. His expression cleared quickly, and Hermione decided it was time to change the topic.

"I'm sorry about your brother," she said, wincing. It wasn't exactly the lighter conversation she had been hoping for, but it was the first thing that came to her mind.

"He probably got what he deserved," Regulus said, being careful not to touch her as he moved past her and into the room.

"I thought you said he probably didn't do it?" Hermione asked. "Or you think it's unlikely he did." Regulus shrugged.

"I never really thought about it much," he said. "We lost contact when we were still at school."

"Have– Have you seen him? Since he…" Hermione asked hesitantly. Regulus laughed.

"What? Sirius?" he asked, still amused. "He'd never stick around. Always on to the next great adventure."

"And you don't want to… move on?" She hoped the question wasn't insulting; she'd once asked the Grey Lady why she'd stuck around Hogwarts, and the ghost had convinced the Baron to get Peeves to follow her around the castle for an entire fortnight.

"I still have things to do," he said. "I can't move on until my work is finished."

"Is that an option?" Hermione asked, unable to curb her curiosity. "I heard once someone decided to stay on as a ghost they became one forever."

"It isn't so much a decision," Regulus said slowly. "It's more a subconscious thing. Like… unfinished business."

"And what's your unfinished business?" He smiled slightly, more self-depreciating than anything, and she briefly wondered at what could cause such an expression but he continued on before she could give it much thought.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," he said. "But I can tell you this: You are in a lot more danger than you realise."

"Wha–"

"Do you remember what I told you? A few years ago, now."

"About V–"

"Yes," he interrupted. "Well, there's more to that story."

.oOo.

30th October, 1995

"Someone died, Regulus," she said as soon as she saw him. It had been some time, but she could still feel tears threatening to spill. "He died, and you knew it would happen."

"I didn't know it would happen," he said calmly. It only served to make her angrier.

"Well, you thought it might happen!" she hissed. "And you still didn't do anything."

"I thought there was a possibility," he said, emphasising the last word. "And I did everything I could to prevent it. I can't be everywhere at once, and it is not my job to protect students."

"That's–" she began.

"You know I'm right," he said, making his way over to their table.

"But–"

"I am not a teacher. I don't even live here," he said. "The students are not my responsibility."

"But–"

"If you want to blame anyone, blame your teachers," he said. "Now, are you going to stop accusing me of being responsible for something that was completely out of my control, or should I just leave?" he asked. She let out a large breath, shoulders slumping.

"What is your job?" she asked quietly, eyes downcast. She was still fighting back tears, though they weren't so much out of anger now but fear. "Why do you only come to Hogwarts once a year? Why this specific day?" These were questions she'd been holding in a long time, and he must have known that, but she was too tired to stop herself from asking them anymore.

"My job?" Regulus said quietly; Hermione thought he probably hadn't intended for her to hear. "I can't tell you my job. Not yet."

"When?" she asked.

"When I'm finished," he said. "But, by then you'd likely already have figured it out." He paused for a moment, taking deep, unneeded breaths. "I have an appointment with Professor Dumbledore. Half nine every year, on the thirtieth of October."

"But… Then why are you still here?" Hermione asked, knowing it sounded a lot ruder than she had intended. He smiled, probably realising the same thing – at least, she hoped he realised.

"Nostalgia." He shrugged. "I missed the place."

"Oh," Hermione said, disappointment colouring her tone. "I thought–" she whispered. "Never mind." She shook her head, taking a seat at their table, and pulling a large book from her bag. She had been angry at him since the last task in the Triwizard Tournament, but she'd still thought he might like it. "I found this, and I–"

"I mostly stay to see you now," Regulus said, watching her reflection in the library windows rather than looking directly at her. "You're my only friend, after all." He turned to face her then, and she couldn't keep the wide grin from her face, or the blush from colouring her cheeks. "So," Regulus said, turning to the book. "What's this about?"

"Oh!" Hermione said, happy to be talking about something less serious for a while. "It's one of my favourites." She turned to the first page, the paper yellowed with age. "My mum used to read it to me when I was younger."

.oOo.

30th October, 1996

"Don't come back next year," Regulus said. He looked tense, nervous, and Hermione wanted to ask about that, but first–

"Why?" she asked. "Why would I miss my last year?"

"Because it won't be safe," he said. "Things are getting worse, Hermione, please understand. There's–"

"But I can't miss my N.E.W.T.s," Hermione said. "I've been looking forward to them since O.W.L.s."

"You–" Regulus stuttered, eyes wide and expression completely shocked. "You what?"

"I've been preparing since the end of exams," she said. "And missing them would make everything after O.W.L.s completely pointless." Regulus' mouth had dropped slightly, and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but she carried on regardless. "Not to mention, I'd never get a decent–"

"Are you insane?" he finally asked. "You do realise you could die?"

"If what you say is true," she said slowly. "Then I wouldn't be any safer at home, would I?"

"But they're actually coming into Hogwarts!" he tried to reason. "You'd be safer at home. Or, better yet, if you went into hiding–"

"I am not doing that," she snapped. "I want to be able to help, and I can't do that if I'm running." An odd expression crossed his face. "What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. It's just… You reminded me of someone, that's all," he said, his tone quiet. He nodded, then. "I know I won't be able to change you're mind. You're far too stubborn for that." She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued speaking before she could get the words out. "And I can't stay long enough today to even begin to try."

"You're leaving now?" Hermione asked, her heart sinking as she was filled with disappointment. He nodded.

"I have to. Things are moving a lot faster now," Regulus said apologetically. "Just– Just promise me that you'll be careful. That you'll stay safe." She nodded, smiling sadly.

"I will. I'll see you next year?" she asked hopefully.

"Of course."

.oOo.

30th October, 1997

He froze when he saw her, staring in shock. His mouth opened, and she thought he might be trying to form words despite clearly not knowing what to say.

"Hello, Regulus." She smiled sadly, watching him from across the room. He took a deep breath, and she could see definite traces of anger clouding his featured.

"You said you'd be careful," he said through gritted teeth. "You promised."

"I know," she said softly. "I'm sorry. It's not like I wanted to– to–"

"To die?" he snapped, stepping closer to her. She'd never seen him so angry before, and it would have frightened her if she hadn't known there was no way he would act upon it.

"Yes," she said. "I didn't want to die."

"But why are you still here?" Regulus asked. His words hurt more than anything else could have – could he physically hurt her now? She didn't think so, but she was still pretty new to this – and she flinched back as if she'd been slapped.

"Don't you know?" Hermione asked. Regulus shook his head.

"Why didn't you move on?" Hermione took a deep breath – she still wasn't used to not needing to breathe, and found herself doing so much more than the other ghosts, but she was getting better.

"Take me with you," she said.

"What?"

"Please. I can be useful, I can–"

"It's dangerous," he interrupted.

"I'm already dead," she snapped. "What more could possibly happen?"

"You don't know what you're asking," he said.

"Please," she whispered. Regulus just shook his head, turned and walked away. "Please?" she called after him. He stopped, and she felt hope building.

"You know I can't," he said calmly, not even turning to face her. She had been wrong before; this was the worst thing he could possibly do to her.

"But what am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"What we all have to do," he said. He turned to face her then, and she wished he hadn't, his expression too blank. "Find a purpose."

.oOo.

30th October, 1998

She wanders the halls aimlessly. There's less to do now the war's over, and she hates herself for missing the excitement – the purpose – it had brought her. She hasn't been back to the library in almost a year, maybe longer; she'd stopped keeping track of the days now.

"You weren't in the library," Regulus says from behind her. She turns slowly.

"I didn't think you would come."

"Why not?" he asks, tipping his head slightly. It's only then that she realises how young he looks – now that she can see him as he looked alive. They appear almost the same age now, and will until they move on. She shrugs.

"You told me to find my purpose," she says, almost an answer but not quite.

"And did you?"

"For a while." They fall into silence then, somehow both conformable in its familiarity and awkward in these new circumstances. "What about you?" Hermione asks. "Did you finish your work?"

"Yes," Regulus says. "I could probably tell you about it now. If you wanted." He pauses for a moment; she's not sure if he's waiting for a response or simply thinking. "I suppose it's not particularly interesting, now, though." She can feel a small smile beginning to turn up the corners of her lips.

"Maybe I should get to decide that?" she asks. He grins widely, nodding. "Do you want to go to the library?"

"I was thinking–" He stops himself, and she prepares herself for the disappointment. He looks nervous, though, and she can't really remember seeing the expression on his face. Then again, a lot of her memories of him are clouded by the last time they met. "I was thinking, maybe we could– could go somewhere else?" he asks, eyes flicking up to meet hers before falling quickly back to the floor. "Outside the castle. Only if you wanted to, of course." He adds the last part hurriedly, and she realises that he's afraid of her reaction. Afraid that she will turn him down.

There's a small, vindictive part of her that wants to, but she knows acting so petty won't help either of them. And she's not sure he'd come back; now that he's finished his work, he may be moving on.

She nods, reaching out towards him, taking his hand for the first time.