A/N: Not one review. Please, even if you just say 'I like it', it would mean a lot if you left a review.

Anywho, here's part two. Just one more to go after this.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise? It doesn't belong to me.

Part Two

It couldn't have worked out more perfectly, Harry thought, as the last of the Gryffindors (save Ron and Hermione) made their way up to the Dorms. He had sat in the Common Room for hours, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal himself. Harry observed the pair throughout the night, and quickly picked up on their despair. He felt guilty for causing his best friends such pain, which acted to increase his hope that he would in fact be able to reveal himself to them. Harry rose from the armchair he had been lounging in for the previous two hours, and made his way across the room to his friends. He sat down across from the pair, thinking of becoming visible.

"Hey guys," Harry said sheepishly. Neither of them looked up from their work. He wasn't really worried – he really hadn't expected to be successful on his first attempt. Leaning back, Harry closed his eyes and directed all of his focus on becoming visible. A minute or so later, he reopened his eyes and tried speaking again.

"Ron? Hermione?" he said hopefully. A few seconds later, Hermione looked up and stared straight at Harry.

"Hermione! You have no idea –" Harry was cut off as she began speaking.

"Do you hear something, Ron?" she said, turning away from Harry, "I could have sworn I heard someone speaking from over there," she waved her hand in the general direction of Harry. Ron looked up from the parchment he had been checking over, looking first at Hermione, then Harry, and back again.

"No, maybe it was just the wind?" Ron looked sceptical, as the night was perfectly still. "You've been working for hours Hermione, you should go to bed."

"You're probably right. I just…" Hermione took a shaky breath, "It's hard. I keep expecting Harry to walk through the door, or to be sitting across from us. I–" tears began streaming down Hermione's face, and Ron moved to comfort her, whispering things Harry could not hear. Harry's throat felt tight. Wishing more than ever that he were visible, Harry went and sat on Hermione's other side, wrapping a ghostly arm around her shoulders. Hermione shivered at the contact, and Harry felt somewhat comforted that, even though she could not see him, Hermione could at least feel he was there.

As her sobs died down, Hermione gathered her things and, bidding Ron goodnight, went up to the girls' dorms. Harry watched as Ron spent five minutes gathering his thoughts and emotions, before following Hermione's lead and heading to bed. As Ron reached the staircase, Harry spoke a choked 'Goodnight'. Ron stopped walking, his left foot hovering just above the first stair; Harry could scarcely believe his luck. Before his excitement could truly set in, however, Ron seemed to mentally shake himself, and walked up the stairs to bed.

xxxxx

Harry spent that night floating aimlessly around the Castle, devastated that he had not been able to reveal himself to his best friends. As one constantly described as having a hero-complex, Harry was glad it was him who'd died rather than them, but it still hurt. Seeing their pain was horrible, and the fact that he still did not know how he'd actually died wasn't helping either.

After what felt like hours and no time at all, Harry sensed another presence in the corridor he was currently floating along. Looking up, he saw Nearly Headless Nick, and wished he could smack himself in the forehead – how had he not thought to speak with one of the Castle's ghosts? He felt his mood lift slightly at the thought of being able to speak to someone, even if they were dead like him.

"Nick!" Harry said, his voice loud in the silent corridor. He watched as Nick seemingly broke out of his thoughts, then looked up and saw him, Harry, floating in front of him.

"Harry," Nick sounded slightly shocked to see him. "I did not expect to see you here again."

"I didn't expect to have left yet," Harry countered. "Nick, do you know how I died?"

"You don't?" Harry just shook his head silently. "It was the last Quidditch match of the season. You were racing Malfoy to the Snitch, and, well… a Bludger smashed into your head. That, and falling of your broom… there was nothing Madam Pomfrey could do." Harry wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Only he, the boy who defeated Voldemort, could be bested by a Bludger.

"I remember the game, I thought we won. There was a Bludger, but it missed me. I don't remember any point that I could have died!" Harry said with frustration.

"It is rare, though not unheard of, for the mind to ignore death. Those who pass before their time sometimes continue on as if nothing has happened."

"No one can see me though! You can show yourself, why can't I?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I truly don't know," and with that, Nick floated away.

Harry stood in the corridor a while longer, considering what Nick had told him, before resuming his aimless floating.

xxxxx

The next afternoon, Harry could be found laying on his four-poster contemplating his life, or, more appropriately, lack thereof. He thought back to the last time he 'died' and how he had met Dumbledore in King's Cross, who had told him of the choice between going back or 'on'. He also remembered Nick once telling him that he had chosen to become a ghost due to his fear of what was to be found 'on'. With a jolt, Harry realised he had never been faced with this choice.

"Harry? Harry!" Hermione came running into the room.

"Hmmm?" he mumbled, sitting up. Still not completely back from his thoughts, it didn't register with Harry that Hermione was speaking to him, that she could see him.

"Come on, you can do it!" Hermione's voice sounded further away, despite still standing just across the room. Harry was confused, unsure of what exactly Hermione telling him to do. He could hear other voices – far away like Hermione's – even though the room appeared completely empty. Harry attempted to focus on the voices, and found that as they became clearer, the room around him was blurring. Was he moving on? As his world faded to black, Harry wished he could have at least said goodbye to Ron and Hermione this time around.