Professor McGonagall was kept incredibly busy for days, chasing evidence of the poltergeist's presence, organising transfiguration classes, as well as keeping her usual headmaster's appointments. She rarely had time for Hermione who had taken to spending the cold days in Hogsmeade. The only thing that pleased Hermione was when she had a visitor very late on New Year's Eve. She had been reading on her bed when there was a familiar scratching at the window. The moment she heard it she leapt to her feet and darted to the window where the cat was sitting, shivering on the sill. Hermione scooped the small animal in her arms and fell back on her bed, laughing as it licked her face excitedly.
"I missed you too, puss." She said.
Daintily the cat stepped off her chest and sat purring beside her. Remembering the gift she had bought in Hogsmeade, Hermione went to her bureau and pulled out a drawer. She took the collar from under a pile of robes and took it to the cat which was watching her curiously.
"I didn't see you before Christmas, but this is your present," she said before fitting it onto her friend. At first the band was a little too big but as soon as the clasp was done up it shrunk to the right size. The colours shimmered and changed in the light like mother of pearl and Hermione admired it as the cat rubbed itself fondly against her arm.
She slept soundly that night, dreaming of a large black animal with a shining collar fighting a huge, eyeless snake.
In the morning the cat had already disappeared, but Hermione didn't mind. In the great hall she ate a small breakfast before going to the library. Madam Pince was still away and the forbidden section was locked off, but she was free to browse the collection of books. There was a small number on ghosts in the magical creature section and she picked out the ones that she hadn't read yet. She wanted to know how to ward them off, or fight them if necessary, but there was almost nothing on the subject. A dark spirit was called a wraith (she knew this already) and they could be dangerous, but exorcisms were extremely controversial because of the moral implications. There might be some books on the subject in the forbidden section, but she wouldn't be able to get a key until the librarian had returned in a few days. Hermione continued to study late into the afternoon without break. She looked at pest spells, defence against the dark arts, household pest control, care of magical creatures, and theories about life after death. Nothing came close to telling her how to get rid of a ghost.
By the time the light was fading from the window overlooking the lake she was tired, hungry and dehydrated but nowhere close to her goal. When she stood up to walk her back ached and her legs tingled with pins and needles. She returned the books to their places and walked slowly from the library. The books had let her down. They were usually so reliable, but today they were a disappointment. If the books were useless then there really wasn't anything she could do. Hermione balled her hands into fists and bit her lip, trying not to get upset. She felt the sting of frustrated tears but refused to let them fall. Calming herself as much as possible, she thought about Minerva. She must know something by now. Imagining her teacher at her desk making plans helped. Relaxing slightly, Hermione began to walk, counting her steps.
She felt composed again as she ascended the first staircase. On the second, she smiled, congratulating herself on reigning in her emotions. Half way up the third flight of stairs there was a jolt and Hermione grabbed the railing in fright. She held on as the staircase slowly swung away from the headmaster's office and towards a dark corridor. There was another shudder as it stopped again, and Hermione hurried to the top before it had a chance to move again. She groaned. From here she'd have to walk a long way around to McGonagall's office. With measured breaths she straightened her back and started the journey. She had to walk towards the muggle studies classroom and turn past the statue of the ugly witch. From there she counted the classrooms she passed until she reached the twelfth door. When she opened it she felt a cold breeze tickle the back of her neck. Hermione shivered.
The door led to another corridor which was usually quite warm but today felt freezing. It was windowless and flickering torches on the walls made the shadows jump and seem to take strange shapes. This hall made her nervous, but it was a short cut and she wanted to get to McGonagall's office as soon as possible. Wrapping her arms around her stomach she hurried through the cold room. A gust of wind ruffled her hair, making the curls dance. She turned to look back at the closed door. Another draft threatened to make the torches go out and Hermione walked backwards. Where was the wind coming from? She turned and began to hurry, too aware of the sound of her shoes on the hard ground. Her hair lifted up off her shoulders and she spun around, staring wildly. Her wand was in her hand and pointed at the shadows, but nothing tangible moved.
"Hermione," The voice was coming from the wall and it was muffled and distant, but it was definitely her name.
She felt the blood rush from her face as her heart beat faster, circulation making her hands and feet tingle. Her breath was shaky and fast, her vision becoming more acute. The voice came again, this time sounding closer.
"Hermione."
She gave a choked sob and the sound of her own moan set her legs running towards the exit. It felt miles away, like the room stretched while she ran, but in just a minute she came barrelling through the door and slammed it shut behind her. Hermione doubled over, her breath heaving with sobs, but she had to keep moving. It was after her, she knew it. Whipping her head around wildly, she tried to remember which way she had to go. She couldn't- panic had overwritten her memory of this place. She beat her head with her fists in frustration and chose left, taking off at a run. Paintings yelled at her to slow down and asking her what was wrong, but she didn't pay them any attention. She was moving so fast that she couldn't tell where in the castle she was. Portraits and doorways whizzed past until she took a sharp corner and found herself falling into a wall. It was a dead end. Breathing laboured, she tried to hear anything above the sound of her heart. There was that voice again. Panicking, she whipped around. A door. There was black, locked door. Casting a fearful glance over her shoulder she pointed her wand and muttered "Alohomora". A mechanism clicked inside the wood and she rushed into the room. It was a classroom she had never seen before, fairly unused with the chairs up and nothing on the walls. After locking the exit behind her, she stumbled around dusty desks to the back of the room where there was another, smaller door. It opened outward, but revealed only a supply closet with a large spider spinning a web between two shelves. She slammed it shut and turned, crouching down behind the teacher's desk.
There wasn't any sound and she hoped that the ghost didn't know where she had gone. It was pointless wishing things, of course. When had wishing ever brought anything good? The temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly and dust rose into the air as if there were a sudden breeze. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. The hand clutching her wand was clammy with perspiration. Magic would be pointless against someone already dead.
"Please, please, please, please," she repeated over and over, "just one bloody year without dark wizards trying to kill me."
"Hermione." The voice sounded more real than it did earlier, closer and more earthly. It was a familiar voice and her eyes snapped open wide in shock when she recognised it. Her wand clattered to the floor as she pulled herself to her feet.
"George?"
"Close, but no cigar." The apparition floated above a desk in the front row, a cheeky half-grin on the opaque, pearlescent face.
For a minute Hermione was speechless, her heart fluttering in her chest. Her emotions swung wildly from anger to relief to joy to sadness to shock.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten me already."
"Fred."
"Hello, Hermione."
She could hear her blood surging in her ears. "It was you. All of it. The… the dungeons and the trophy room…" Shock had stolen her voice and relief brought tears to her eyes.
Fred drifted closer and shrugged. "Well what would expect me to do? Invisible and alone in the castle with Filch."
Hermione staggered slightly and leaned onto the teacher's desk for support. One hand landed on a small brass paperweight. Her astonishment made way for anger again and she flung it as hard as she could at the spectre of her dead friend. Surprised, he tried to dodge it, but wasn't fast enough and it went straight through him, crashing into the far wall.
"What was that for?"
"You complete and utter jerk." She picked up a goblet and threw that. "You twat! You imbecilic, moronic blast-ended newt!" An inkwell followed the goblet and with nothing else on the desk, Hermione picked up the chair and swung that as well. It collided with a desk and broke.
Fred had floated to the corner, backing away from the fiery brunette. She had picked up her wand and was storming over to him.
"Hermione, stop, what are you trying to accomplish?"
"What were you trying to accomplish when you were scaring everyone silly?"
"I was just having some fun with ol' Angus."
"Fun? Everyone thought you were dead!"
"I am dead, Hermione." His smile was gone now and now just looked grey and cheerless.
Her anger dwindled. She stood, staring at the drab outfit he had died in, scars scattered over his face. For a while she was quiet. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I guess I did take it a bit far. I shouldn't have chased you like I did."
"I actually thought you were Voldemort or Bellatrix Lestrange," she admitted.
"Nah, they moved on to worse place. Although, whatever's worse than being stuck at school, I have no idea."
Hermione regarded his returned smile with suspicion. "Why are you still here? Do you have some sort of unfinished business?"
"I'm waiting for George, I suppose," he answered with a shrug. "We came into this world together and we're going out together. Where is everyone else, anyway?"
Hermione took a seat on top of one of the tables and rested her chin on her hands, "Ginny and Luna went home for the holidays and Ron and Harry decided not to finish their last year."
"Trust you to choose to stay in school."
"Look who's talking." They smiled at each other.
"Tell me what everyone's up to."
She took a deep breath. They had a lot to talk about.
