AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!

Severus hadn't meditated for long on how Ms. Granger would appear. It was hard to deny that she was a woman though. Her bushy hair had been tamed into curls which framed her face. Despite her two sizes too large maroon nightshirt and baggy sweatpants, there was a hint of a woman's figure. Still, what demanded his attention were her wide caramel eyes.

"Harry's right, I've been working too hard."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

With trembling hands, she placed her book onto the table and set her quill on top of it. Then, she stood.

"Ms. Granger!"

She backed towards the hallway.

"Ms. Granger stop!"

She gulped.

"Ms. Granger." He approached her. "I need you to listen to me."

She darted down the hallway into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Severus scowled. Did she really think a spirit couldn't go through a closed door?

She dove under her purple duvet. "I've finally gone mad. I've worked myself half to death and I've gone crazy."

"You have not gone mad."

She threw off the covers and screamed.

"Would you be quiet for once in your life and listen to me?"

"Go away!"

"Not until you listen to me."

"No! You aren't real!"

"I most certainly am real."

"Oh Merlin, if you're real then why are you here?" She gasped. "It's about the book isn't it?"

His frown deepened.

"I'm sorry Rita wrote it. I'm sure it's nothing more than libel, but it's already a best seller. Customers have been lining up to buy it. If I want to stay in business I have to sell it."

"Why would I be haunting you over selling a blasted book?"

"Because you wanted to prevent it from being published, but couldn't do so because you're dead."

"Why would a dead person care about its publication?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you need everyone to know who you really were in order to obtain eternal rest."

She had a point. It would make things easier if he didn't spend his entire eternity answering twenty thousand questions about himself.

"You must need my help for something. Perhaps you want me to put Rita in a bottle."

Now there was an idea.

"I'm sorry. I would do it if I knew where she was and I thought I could get away with it. Still, it doesn't solve your problem. You're going to have to haunt Rita if you want revenge."

"Who said I was here for revenge?"

She was shaking. "Why else would you be here?"

"Because I need to help you."

She stilled before giving him a frown which was as dour as his own. "You think I need to change my life somehow."

"I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"Is this the part you show me the past, present, and then a future where everyone is happier without me?"

"Don't be daft. Those types of hauntings do not occur outside of Christmas."

"Good." She sat up straighter. "I have no interest in seeing everyone cheering over my grave."

"Nobody will be cheering if you die."

"How do you know?"

"Because that isn't how heaven works."

She lowered the sheets, exposing the black satin sheets. "So you made it to heaven?"

"No, not quite," his glow diminished. "I only made it to Purgatory."

"That's awful." She lowered her head. "After everything you've sacrificed you deserve some peace."

"I will have some peace soon enough if you listen to me."

She bit her lower lip.

"It is a long and complicated story, but in short, Dante was correct in asserting there are three levels of the afterlife: heaven, Purgatory, and hell," he began.

"Wait, things are just like The Divine Comedy?"

"Somewhat, only Purgatory has an overcrowding problem. Thus they've had to get…creative with their punishments."

"I thought Purgatory had less to do with punishments and more to do with purgation."

"Trust me, the new process has far more to do with punishment."

"I'm sorry to hear that." There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in her voice, or deception in her eyes.

He snarled. "Don't pity me."

"I don't pity you," she replied. "I just wish the good you've done would finally be acknowledged."

"In other words, you pity me."

"No, I just wish people could see you as a good person who spent his life repenting of some very terrible mistakes."

He looked at her as if she had just announced that she was a Quidditch star.

"I wish you'd been able to make it to heaven." She threw herself back into her pillow. "Assuming you even exist."

"I am as real as you are."

"Or you could be the consequence of me not heating up my TV dinner properly or the stress of the last few weeks. Perhaps I'm having a psychotic break."

Severus loomed over her. "Tell me to lift your pillow."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

She shrugged. "Fine, lift my pillow."

Severus grabbed the pillow from under her. He expected to feel the smooth of the satin. Instead, he felt nothing. Never in his life did he think he'd be nostalgic for the feel of a pillow. Touch was just another thing he'd taken for granted in the land of the living.

"How are you doing that?" She whispered.

"I can life whatever you want me to lift."

"What if I do not want you to lift something?"

"Then I cannot do so."

"Why?"

"I do not know, but it is one of the rule I must abide by in order to complete my mission."

She took the pillow from him. "What would that mission be?"

"I need to help you find a sense of eudaimonia."

She cocked her head. "You want me to learn more about Ancient Greek philosophy?"

"Oh thank Merlin you are somewhat aware of what eudaimonia is," he replied. "I thought I'd have to spend all night explaining it to you."

"Of course I know what it is. I took four philosophy classes at university."

"I took five."

"You did?"

"Yes, I needed the credits."

"Oh."

"That being said, you are in desperate need of eudaimonia, and I need to help you find it so I can move onto heaven and avoid a century in Purgatory."

"So you aren't in Purgatory, but you aren't quite in heaven?"

"And here I thought the title of 'brightest witch of her age' was in jeopardy."

She glared at him. "I understand perfectly well what is going on."

"Great," he answered. "Now you need to tell me what you think will give you a sense of eudaimonia so I can go about helping you obtain it."

She grinned and put the pillow down. "I know exactly what will bring me eudaimonia."

"What?"

She lay down and threw the blankets over her head. "Sleep."

His glow became red.

"It's obvious that I feel guilty about profiting off of your death and I have been working too hard lately. My mind is playing tricks upon me. After some sleep I will feel refreshed and ready to face my issues head on."

Severus picked the pillow up from under her head. She grabbed it and returned it to its place.

"Now do you believe I'm real?"

"I believe my magic is misfiring."

"You are quite healthy, your magic is perfectly fine, and talking to a spirit."

"I am overtired and spending too much time meditating upon death and my old professors."

"What is it going to take to convince you that I am real?"

Hermione smirked. "You let me go to sleep."

"Not until you tell me what will help you find eudaimonia."

"I just told you: sleep is going to give me eudaimonia."

"We both know that sleep is only a temporary pleasure which has little to do with an overall sense of one's well-being."

"There is a hierarchy of needs, the bottom of which is physical. Unless I get some sleep I won't be able to meet any of my other needs."

"You can sleep as much as you want once I enter into paradise."

"How long do you have until you need to go to heaven?"

"I do not know. Since eudaimonia takes time to develop I'd imagine the afterlife is willing to accommodate a reasonable time frame."

"Yes," she yawned. "You can wait until tomorrow."

Severus snarled and grabbed the sheets. No matter how hard he tried to grip them, his hands went right through them.

She smirked. "I knew you were just an illusion."

He grabbed her pillow and threw it across the room. Eyes aflame, she pulled out her wand and snapped, "accio pillow."

The pillow went through him. "Stop being a stubborn child and listen to what I'm saying!"

"You need to go now!" Hermione grabbed her pillow.

"Not until you tell me what you need to have an overall sense of well-being, and say something other than sleep!"

"I need," Hermione scratched the bed. "I need time to think this through."

"What is there to think through? I am real and ready to aid in your quest for eudaimonia. Tell me how to give it to you so we can move on with our lives, or in my case, afterlife."

"First of all, I'm not on a quest for anything. Second of all, if you really are a spirit, you can meet me in my office at noon tomorrow."

"I can only appear in your house."

"Why?"

"The rules demand it."

"Who makes the rules?"

"The Trinity."

"The Trinity?"

"Yes. They are somewhat different than one would expect, but they seem to be the ones in charge."

Hermione's face lost what little color it had. "They're real then?"

"Yes."

She took a shaky breath. "I knew I should've paid more attention in Sunday school."

"The impression I've gotten from the afterlife is that reading Dante is more conducive to understanding what is going on than listening to some priest every Sunday."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"In the meantime, how do I prove I exist?"

Hermione scratched the sheets. "Come into my bedroom at eight tomorrow night."

"Fine."

"Also, be ready to bring Harry some closure. If you can see me…."

"Actually you will need to be alone."

"Why?"

"Because you are the only one who will be able to see me."

"Let me guess, the rules."

"Yes."

"Fine," she replied. "Be in my bedroom at eight tomorrow night. We can talk then about eudaimonia then."

"Very well."

With that he vanished, leaving a fatigued and baffled Hermione in his wake.