This is a work of fanfiction. Names, characters, places, all belong to their authors and are only being borrowed. The only characters I own are Trisha McHoney, her family history and other names she uses, and Albert, Jonathan and Peter are mine. How they are presented though has come from the idea of a TV show called Dead Like Me, which I also don't own. If you haven't seen the show, don't worry, this will fill you in on what you need to know. No original characters from that show is in use here.
All reviews will be responded to personally in e-mails. Enjoy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As you go through your daily routine, most people don't give a first thought at doing something they consider out of their norm. Yet at this moment, Severus Snape was in a grocery store, a muggle, grocery store for milk. Some how Author had talked him into going to pick some up, or was it Molly when she pressed the pounds in his hands? Or it could simply be that he didn't care where he went at the moment, he just wanted out of the house.

Now standing there, in his black pants and black shirt, Severus waited in line, as the cashier seemed to take forever talking with the current customer. The lady ahead of him, curly blond hair tied in a messy bun, was tapping her fingers impatiently and kept glancing at her watch. Gritting his teeth he tried to ignore it, but the tapping kept become more, and more, and more irritating.

'If you don't stop you'll wear a hole through the counter," Severus leaned closer to her as he said this. She stopped tapping and turned to look at him. Good he would have hexed her if she continued. The girl wasn't much to look at, plain. Though when she spoke her voice didn't match the face.

"Sorry, have an appointment I'm trying to keep," She shrugged. Severus simply shrugged back not at all interested. Finally the cashier stopped talking to the current customer and moved onto what the blond had put on the table to buy. She started talking to the guy like she knew him.

"Hey Gary busy day," She asked.

"Yeah, Shaneen," Gary replied. "What I wouldn't give to be out side for just a few minutes today." He gave her the total for her stuff.

'Thanks, se ya," Shaneen reached a hand out to take her money and briefly came in contact with Gary's hand. Severus didn't see anything but he felt that more was going on, and that made him suspicious. Severus watched her walk away and pause at the door looking at her stuff.

"How are you doing today?" Gary asked Severus.

"Fine," he replied in a curt, I don't want to talk to you tone. Hearing a noise above them, Severus looked up but only saw a brief flash. He thought it was a light glimmer or something, then heard a snap. Gary looked up too at this moment, and the light above them fell. Severus jumped out of the way, along with a few startled people, while Gary got the full impact of the crush. The milk was gushing everywhere, being broken and people where rushing over to see what had happened. Severus looked up trying to see if a death eater was around, or if this was purely an accident. The only suspicious thing he saw was Shaneen, who only turned and walked out the door.

Rushing after her, Severus saw her step into an alley. Pulling out his wand, he followed behind. She only stood there, like she was watching something, not moving at all. Putting his wand away, Severus knitted his brow in confusion wondering what could this silly girl be doing? Turning, she gasped when she saw him.

"What are you doing, following me?" She accused.

"No," Severus pulled himself up standing straighter.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Getting away from the crowd," Severus came up with. "You just happen to be in the same spot I was headed for.

"Really," Shaneen crossed her arms. "Well, enjoy, I'm leaving." And she walked right on by him. Shaking his head, Severus silently cursed remembering that Molly still wanted that milk.

An older man sat at a table, looking over some paper work and casually writing down information on post it notes. Written on them was name, location, date and time then ETD. Soon two guys came in laughing and joking with each other, then sat down with the older man.

"Hey there Albert," one guy named Peter greeted. His friend was named Jonathan. "Where's Trish, thought she be here by now."

"Right," Albert replied. "Just like she did when she first became a reaper." Peter and Jonathan rolled their eyes at Albert's sarcasm. "She's screwed up so much when she first started it's a wonder if she'll ever pass."

"How long she been at this?" Jonathan leaned back in his chair. "Longer than you, that I know,"

"Over a hundred years," Albert nodded. "I was told that she put such a fuss over taking souls that she almost vanished. Some how, it finally came onto realization that if she didn't start doing what she was suppose to do, which was releasing souls otherwise they would rot inside the bodies.

"We are here to release the souls of people just before, preferably, or shortly after death, so that they can pass, then once we meet our quota, which, up there," Albert pointed above himself. "Has some notes on, then we get to pass. I have been doing this for over fifty years now. I think Trish is the oldest one of us here."

"Well I think that's enough talk about, Trish! Hi! How are you?" The girl from the grocery store gave Peter an odd look as she sat down.

"What are you talking about?" Trish asked.

"You," Jonathan shrugged. "You died when you were a senior right?"

"Just before," Trish said.

"So Peter, Jon," Albert interrupted, handing them two post it notes.

"I had her sister last week," Jonathan stated.

"Where's mine?" Trish brushed back her dark auburn hair. It fell just past her shoulders.

"I've got a project for you," Albert crossed his arms then raised an eyebrow at Peter and Jonathan who leaned in to listen. "That I need to explain to Trish alone." Albert finished looking at them.

"Sorry mate," The guy stood up and left.

"Okay I took the soul of the grocer, Gary," Trish protested. "Even though he was sorta my friend."

"Good girl," Albert commented. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Trish just looked at him. "In all the years that you have been a reaper what have you learned, or been told?"

"Don't get personally involved in the souls of the people you take," Trish said. "If we try to alter their death it can have sever consequences, and do not tell people about ourselves, or it could cause a worldwide panic."

"Very good, so it seems that you are learning," Albert commented. "I have a different assignment for you. You will go back to a special school, as a senior. At this school much is going on and while you will be there as a reaper, you will also be a protector."

"Wait a second," Trish stood up. "I tried to protect people at first and I got chewed out, in trouble and yelled at. You just had me state that we shouldn't interfere!"

"Well this one is different," Albert sighed. "There's a school you will go to who are for children who are witches and wizards. " Trish's mouth dropped open as she slowly sat down. "There's one wizard Voldermort who can take over more than the world if he succeeds, he can take over us."

"He would tell us what souls to take?" Trish asked.

"More like leave them in the body to rot," Albert replied. :The soul will still see all that is going on around them, but won't be able to react. The only comfort is that they can't feel what is happening to their body." Albert then filled Trish in on the story of Harry Potter and explained about the classes and the school she would be attending. Trish listened with half an ear until Albert stood up catching her attention.

"You'll receive these by owl post," Albert held up a blank post it note. "On days you don't, go along school as normal, as you can. I enrolled you under your real name, Trisha McHoney. Tomorrow I'll pick you up, you'll meet Hagrid who teaches Care of Magical Creatures. He'll take you shopping for supplies. He has been told that you are a transfer, you are from America and discreetly the school will pay for basic supplies. Anything else you want, you'll have to pay for."

"That's fine," Trish nodded. "Are you going shopping with us?"

"No, just dropping you off," Albert said. "See you in the morning." Trish nodded and left soon after Albert did, going to her apartment. Inside she reached into her upper sleeve and pulled out her wand. Then she laughed, not able to help it, laughed at the irony of it all. She would be returning to the school that she never got to compete all those years ago. Even now she still remembers the first time she had to leave her family to go to the school. They had sailed to America before Trish was born, only for Trish to sail back.

"Mom, why must I go back to London for school?" A younger Trish asked her mother. Father was at work and said his goodbyes the night before.

"This is the best school around," Her mother said. "You'll live in London until you graduate. We'll talk by owl post, which will go way with the ships."

"Yes mother," Trish shook the image away. She never saw her parents again. She never got to go home. Putting her wand on her nightstand, she changed and crawled under the covers. In the morning Trish was woken up by an owl.

"Oh, the Daily Prophet," Trish sat up rubbing her eyes. "Don't leave yet, Baylis." Trish pulled a piece of parchment from the nightstand, but wrote with a regular pen. She was letting the subscriber know she needed her subscription changed to the school address. Tying the note to Baylis leg, she gave the owl an affectionate pat, who nipped at her fingers then flew out the window. She had been receiving the Daily Prophet for a long time, keeping track of the wizarding world. The subscriber was nice enough to let her pay muggle money as long as she included a few extra notes, so they would go in to exchange it. She knew all about what they said about Harry Potter, though she found that some stuff Rita wrote hard to believe, and she knew about Voldermort and that he had risen.

A glance at the clock got Trish jumping out of bed. She tossed the Daily Prophet in the closet, with the other ones, and showered. Once she was dry and dressed, her wand was slipped into it's arm case, there was a knocking.

"Trish let me in." It was Albert.

"Just a moment," Trish flipped out her wand, she was still standing by the bathroom. "Alohomora!" Trish whispered unlocking the front door. "Come in," she called slipping her wand back in place, as Albert walked in.

"Need a few more minutes?" Albert gestured to Trish's hair, which was still wet.

"Yeah, hold on." Trish went back in and turned on the fan for cover noise. Charming her hair dry, Trish took a moment to look at herself. When she was alive her hair was red, curly and dainty features. When she died and became a reaper, her appearance change to blond hair, still curly, and her features changed to make people not care to take a second look at her.

"Trish come on you sleeping in there?" Albert banged on the door, making Trish jump.

"I'm ready," Trish called turning off the fan. Going out the bathroom, she stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a bagel.

"One more thing I want to tell you," Albert said. "For the time being, you won't have to worry about loosing past memories. Not that you should have to worry about that, but it is in place, some how just in case." Trish simply nodded. As a reaper, if you tried to get in contact with your family or friends from your actual life, you would loose your memories of pieces of you life. The more your try to contact them, the more you loose. She tried to see some of her old friends from school, and it didn't go too well. They nearly hexed her. Locking the front door as they left, Albert dropped Trish off between a book store and a record store. Albert pointed to a place a called the Leaky Caldron, in between the two.

"Muggles, non magic people," Albert explained. "Can't see this place, or the school for that matter. Being who we are, I suppose is enough of an enchantment so we can see all these magic places. Hagrid should be along shortly." Albert left and Trish looked inside the small pub. She smiled remembering when it was simply called The Caldron. Wonder when it changed?

"Ello there, yeh must be Trisha." Turning, Trish found herself looking just above some one's waist. Tilting her head back she saw a curly beard that attached to a friendly face.

"You must be Hagrid, and please call me Trish," she said taking a step back. He seemed friendly, but a little intimidating. Even though Trish was, in a sense undead, she could still feel pain. If hurt, she heals faster, but still feels the pain. Obviously she can't be killed.

"All right, Trish," Hagrid said a smile evident on his face. "Well let's go get yeh school supplies, got yeh list right 'ere. Bein a transfer it's been altered for yeh."

"Can I see it please?" Trish was curious to how much things had changed. Hagrid handed the list over.

Hogworts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy
uniform
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (Dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastening)
5. One dress robe
Please note that all students clothes should carry name tags

It went on then to list all needed supplies and equipment. The only thing Trish noted that has changed really was they were wearing pointed hats again. That was done away with for a time being, to help protect from any witch hunts. Mostly muggles were accused in those things anyway. Not one that Trish knew of ever got a real witch or wizard.

Hagrid led Trish through The Leaky Caldron, to a brick wall, where he tapped it several times. It then opened revealing Diagon Alley. Trish's eyes widened seeing how it had changed so much in the years she had been gone. Her favorite store, Zanies Zelouerious Zweets was gone, replaced by Flourish and Blotts and many others had changed. There were still a few that Trish recognized. The broom shop was still in the same place and Ollivanders: Makers of fime wands since 382 B.C. Established in 1886, was still there.

"Can we go in there, Hagrid?" Trish couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. A feeling of euphoria was coming over her and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

"Right, Dumbledor said yeh be needin a new wand," Hagrid nodded.

"Did they tell you what happened to it?" Trish didn't want to get another one, still having her old one.

"It got lost in shipment, what's I heard," Hagrid said. Trish took a breath glad that it wasn't mentioned that it was broken.

"Oh well I found it," Trish took it out to show Hagrid. "I just wanted to see how different the store over here would be."

"That's quite all right," Hagrid smiled. "Let's take a look, keep forgetting that you're from America." Trish felt herself warming up to Hagrid as they entered the shop. When Trish first saw this shop, It had several hundred wands, spread out on shelves, not much dust in the place. Now she could see how it's expanded and the dust that had accumulated. The owner, Trish assumed, was experimenting wands with a first year. The child sent wands every where and Trish covered her mouth in a laugh. She had set half the wands on fire her first try. Collecting all of the necessary equipment, she saw many of the people she would be going to school with.

"Hagrid, would it be all right, if I went to see if I could afford a broom?" Trish use to have a vault at Gringotts, but the key was gone and she didn't know if it was ever claimed or not.

"Sure, in fact you can meet a few of your fellow students," Hagrid said, but his face wasn't a happy one. Looking inside the shop, Trish looked at the newest model.

"Who are you?" Trish turned to a blond who was talking to her. "I never seen you around here before."

"Nor would you, for I've only just arrived a little while ago." Trish had already devised a story keeping it close to hers though changing the boat to a plane and such. Turning away, Trish had no desire to get to know this student, she felt some one grab her arm.

"Don't walk away while I'm talking to you, don't you know who you are talking to?"

"It seems to me, you are doing most of the talking, and I don't care to know who you are," Trish yanked her arm away from his grip. That would leave a bruise, which would fade in less than twenty four hours.

"Malfoy leave her alone," Hagrid stepped in. "If you must know she is a transfer from America, and that's why she doesn't know you or anyone around here."

"Are you a pureblood then?" Malfoy asked. Malfoy, she's heard of him, or rather his father most likely.

"What ever my history is shouldn't matter, but yes, if you must know," Trish replied. "I am Trisha McHoney, but my friends call me Trish."

"Well Trish, I am Draco Malfoy." He introduced himself. "So what do you know about Hogworts?"

"That it's a school, separated into four houses," Trish gave a general history of Hogworts, leaving not much for Draco to comment on, at least about the school.

"Do you know who, Harry Potter is?"

"Never met him," Trish shrugged, this seemed to amuse Draco even more. "Well, I'll let you come to your conclusions about him, just be careful, he tends to be very unpredictable. See you at school." As he left Trish shook her head.

"Hagrid, you know who he was right?" Hagrid nodded. "A little warning next time please." Hagrid laughed a little but nodded.

"How much?" Trish was pointing at a broom on display.

"That would be a hundred galleons, miss," The shop keeper replied. Trish nearly choked. Looking into her pocket she saw she had only a few notes.

"I think I'll have to pass on a broom, thanks," Trish turned ready to walk out.

"We do have a few on discount if you like," The shop keeper mentioned.

"Yeah, let's take a look," Hagrid answered.

"But I don't have enough money," But Hagrid shushed her.

"Consider it a present," Hagrid said. He bought her a cleansweep, but Trish was thrilled none the less.

"Thank you Hagrid!" Trish hugged him then a thought crossed her mind, please don't let Hagrid be one of the people who is going to die.

"Hagrid, picking up on young woman." Trish let go of Hagrid only to come face to face with a group of red heads.

"Ello Ron, Ginny," He nodded at the parents of the two. "This is Trish, she'll be going to Hogworts this year." Introductions were presented and many questions about muggle living in the US was brought up by Ron's dad. Those she wasn't too ready for.

"Uh, well," Trish stammered.

"Dad, lay off, she's got enough to deal with transferring to a new school." Ron interrupted.

"Right sorry," His dad replied. "Well see you around." Since Trish was finished with her shopping, Hagrid took her out of Diagon alley. They hailed a cab and put her stuff into the trunk. Trish was going to thank Hagrid when he thrusted something in her hands.

"This is your ticket, Kings Cross, platform 9 and ¾." Hagrid told her.

"Thank you," Trish said and climbed into the cab. Waving bye, the cab drove to her apartment and helped her carry her stuff in. Tipping him, she went about getting paper work ready for her apartment. First she called all the utilities and power and phone, suspending the accounts and getting payments ready to be sent in, so she'd have a zero balance. Thankfully they were understanding worked with Trish. Next was securing the apartment so that way she'd have a place to live when she came back. Calling the manager, she told him the time she'd be gone and told him she would drop money for rent, for the time, in his mail box. This meant digging into her savings which rent and the bills took it all. Dropping the rent off, she went back up and despite the heat, lit a fire in her fireplace and started to burn the past few months of the Daily Prophet. This was something she normally saved for Christmas but Trish didn't want to risk someone finding out about it.

A little while later, Trish was seating but done, with that task. The last one she had to do was get rid of all the perishables. She made several sandwiches, poured milk in disposable glasses, and threw the sandwiches in a plastic bag, save three, and charmed the milk not to spill, and put them in a bag. Next she went to the street and handed out the food to homeless people until it was all gone. Now it was dark, and Trish had to be at Kings Cross in the morning. The walk home was dull, some one tried to mug, Trish but she hexed him away, and continued in her way. She died when she was seventeen, legal age to do magic, which is probably why she never got a notice about doing underage magic or such.

The hardest part of the morning was getting everything to the station. Trish got up early to magically carry her trunks down and wait for the cab. The door to her apartment and windows were warded so that no muggle could get in short of a bomb explosion. At Kings Cross, Trish loaded her stuff onto a trolly and sat down to wait a few minutes before getting onto the platform for the train. Staring at the tracks, Trish remembered the day she died. It was one of her most vivid memories.

"Be careful," A voice warned. "They just cleaned so it's slippery out today." Trish nodded and followed the muggles making her way to platform 9 and ¾.  

"Excuse me, do you have the time," A man asked Trish. She pointed to a clock on the wall. He thanked her and briefly touched her shoulder before leaving. Just before reaching the platform, a small boy had slipped falling onto the tracks, passing the wooden barrier. An adult could not fit through, but Trish was still a small person and took a moment to slip in. Wriggling through, she jumped down to the tracks, took a moment not to slip and picked up the small child who was crying. Passing him up to the outstretched arms, the sound of a train coming was heard. It sent Trish's heart thundering.

"Grab my hand miss," An outstretched hand was just out of her reach, so Trish jump trying to grab it. She missed and slipped on the tracks, hitting her head. The ground was rumbling now and she saw things in a daze. People were screaming, she couldn't move. Then a train came into view, as Trish was laid across the tracks, that's where the memory ended.

"I think I died of a heart attack before the train hit," She mumbled to herself.

"What?" Trish opened her eyes looking up to a guy that was wearing glasses. He had a trolly with a white owl, then a familiar face popped into view.

"Trish, good timing, you got here early like us," Ron answered. "Harry this is Trish, she's a transfer student from America."

"Hello Trish," Ron's mother Molly greeted and instructed Author to take her trolly. "The boys insisted they could get to the train on their own but I had to drop them off. You remember Ginny don't you?"

"Yes, sorry hi," Trish got up and touched Molly's outstretched hand. "I was thinking out loud of a scary movie." Trish said to Harry. "The setting was a train station, and she got hurt in the movie."

"Which one?" Harry asked.

"I don't remember the name," Trish looked away.

"I forgot to ask, what year will you be," Ron was walking on one side, Harry on the other.

"Seventh," Trish answered.

"Same as us," Harry commented. "Here we are, Ron will go first, then you and I'll follow after Ginny." Trish nodded and took her trolly from Author after thanking him. She watched Ron go first, then followed shortly after. Hogworts Express sat there, in it's steaming glory and Trish stared for a moment. The out side train hasn't changed a bit.

"Trish look out," Trish failed to get out of the way and Ginny in turn ran into her, knocking Trish's trolly over. Ron rushed over getting the girls and stuff out of the way so Harry didn't run over them.

"Your arm," Ginny grabbed Trish's left arm which had a deep gash.

"Just a scratch," Trish pulled her arm back covering it. "It'll be fine, really." This was said through gritted teeth. Harry came through, a little alarmed at finding Trish's things spread all over and helped her reload the trolly. Leaving them to be loaded the four climbed in to get a compartment. Sitting by the window, Trish watched Harry and Ron talk about Qudditch while Ginny looked at Trish.

"You play Quidditch?" Ginny asked.

"A little," Trish replied. I used to be a chaser but I think I'd rather be a beater now."

"Ron's a keeper," Ginny said. The boys look up from hearing Ron's name.

"You talking about me?" Ron asked.

"No about your good twin," Ginny shot back. Ron made a face and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"We were talking about Quidditch and how I used to be a chaser," Trish replied.

"You play?" The boys lightened up.

"Used to," About a hundred years ago, Trish finished in thought. After questioning Trish about Quidditch, the unavoidable question came out.

"Why are you're parents sending you to school here?" Harry asked.

"Because they decided that they prefer that I go here, and just came to that conclusion." Trish replied.

"So are they waiting for you back in America?" Ginny asked.

"No, they're dead."

"But I thought you just said that they sent you here," Harry questioned. Trish realized her blunder.

"They decided before they died," Trish said looking out the window. "And I didn't want to stay in America anymore."

"My parents died when I was a year old," Harry said. "And my Godfather died two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Trish said. This was going to be hard on her, she started to realize. Not only was she sent her to make sure the souls of these children were released, but it could be the very souls of the children that she was talking to right now. Even though she looked their age, when thinking of them as a group it was easier for her to think of them as children.

"Trish, I want you to meet Hermione," Ginny pulled the girl from her thoughts. "She's the head girl and is in out house Gryffindor." Trish let the boys and Ginny take turns telling Hermione about herself.

"Welcome," Hermione said shaking Trish's hand. "I just came by to say hello, I have to meet with the prefects and head boy."

"Who is the head boy, Hermione?" Ron asked. "Mathew Dengus, Ravenclaw."

"At least it wasn't Malfoy," Harry sighed. "He would look for any excuse to get us in trouble."

"I met him while shopping," Trish said. "He was really snooty."

"I bet, if you aren't a pureblood and in Slytherin," Ron said. "He can be…"

"I can be what weasel?" They turned to see Draco standing in the door way. Let me get your name on a post it, please, thought Trish. "I see you're already cuddling up to Potty." A sneer crossed Draco's face. "But with your face who else would want to be friends with you." Harry, Ron and Ginny jumped up all at once but Trish was faster. Pushing Draco back he rested against the wall feeling as if he was looking death in the face.

"Scared of me Malfoy?" Trish whispered. Her friends behind her went silent. "Feel like I can make you loose your soul?" Draco made a sneer come to his face, and pushed Trish back.

"You couldn't make me loose anything," Draco pushed Trish again and she pushed back. It became a small standing wrestling match, until Draco pulled a leg out from under Trish making her slam into the wall. She sat there trying to catch her breath as Draco stared at her in the face. He was scared of her and didn't know why, making him angry.

"Malfoy let her go," Harry was next to her with Ron, who had their wands out. Slamming his hands against the wall behind Trish, Draco left leaving Trish there, a hammering in her heart.

"Trish are you okay?" Ginny was pulling on her arm, to bring her back in the compartment. Several students were looking out to see what was going on.

"He's only sore that he didn't make Head Boy," Laughed Ron.

"I'm fine," Trish had to try not to laugh. He was scared of her and couldn't understand why. She was loving that feeling, then felt her body run cold. What if she's not sorted into the same house she was in last time? The same house as Ron, Harry and Ginny. What if she's changed enough to be put into Slytherin?"