Hermione climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Her legs ached from running to and from classes. She had a full schedule and the only thing she was looking forward to now was the soft mattress of her four poster bed. She pushed the door to the dormitory open and was relieved to see that it was empty. Her dorm mates must still be up and about. It would seem fitting seeing as it was only half past ten. She changed into her pajamas and laid down. Her mattress cradled her spine and her sheets enveloped her in a warm cocoon. She closed her eyes and awaited for the moment when reality morphed into subconscious.

It never came. She lay there for what seemed to be twenty minutes. Sleep was obviously taking its sweet time. She sat up and decided to read a book while she waited. She crawled to the edge of her bed and reached down to her book bag on the floor. She shifted through its contents and she produced the notorious leather bound journal. She could hear the faint sound of giggling and footsteps on the dormitory stairs. She drew the curtains around her bed sunk back into the mattress.

"Lumos," she whispered and climbed under the blankets.

She flipped to her entry and her heart rate quickened. Tom had replied.

Hermione, you sure do ask a lot of questions. A lot of the right questions, I might add. My name is Tom, as I have already stated. I am seventeen years old. I died years ago. This was my journal. Why is it blank? you might be asking. I bewitched it Hermione. You see, the things this book has contained in its pages are so secret and so dear to me, that if any other living being were to read it, well… let's just say I wouldn't be too happy about that.

I occupy myself with this journal. You see, I'm a bit..stuck. I'm not a part of the world of the living, nor have I truly moved on. I'm in a bit of a gray area. It's not the most interesting place, in fact it's rather lonely. That's why I'm contacting you Miss Granger. I haven't had anyone to talk to in decades. I miss it.

I can understand if you're frightened. I would be too, and I'm not one for superstition. If you decide to dispose of this journal, there will be no hard feelings. If you are interested in continuing our correspondence, you need not do anything more than write.

-Tom

Hermione bit her lower lip. She hadn't heard of such a thing before. She always assumed that ghosts either moved on to whatever awaited mortals after death, or they roamed about as vaporous silhouettes of their former selves. She decided to do more research on the topic tomorrow.

She nearly groaned. Tomorrow was no good. It was going to be another hectic day. This weekend then, she decided. She turned her attention back to the journal. But what to do with this?

On one hand she was undeniably curious now. She wanted to know more about this Tom character. She wanted to know why he wasn't moving on. She wanted to know about his life. He said he hadn't had anyone to talk to in decades. This implied that he had been dead for quite some time. She found herself wondering about what his life was like. She didn't even notice sleep overcoming her.

She stood in front of a dusty book shop on an almost deserted city street. She tried to examine the store from the outside, but the windows were coated in a coat of filth. She could see a figure moving around inside. She pushed the door open and a small bell above it sang.

Hermione realized the figure was that of a boy around her age. He had dark curly hair that bounced about his head as he turned to face her. His eyes were shallow gray ponds. His full lips pulled into a smile. Hermione found her eyes drifting over his distinct jawline and she could almost make out the shadow of his collarbones beneath the slightly opened collar of his button down white shirt.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was a fluid tenor. Her eyes widened. Was this-

"Tom?" she asked.

"How'd you guess?" he asked burying his hands in his pockets and closing the distance between them.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. It was rather uncharacteristic of her. She usually wasn't one for ogling over handsome boys. Somehow she couldn't control herself.

"What am I doing here?" she looked around, "Where exactly is here?"

"This? Oh it's just a little family run place. It probably doesn't exist in your time. It's a shame, really. I came here every day just to walk down the isles. It was like an adventure. Each time I would discover something new," as he spoke he began to drift down one of the nearby isles. Hermione followed him closely. It was strange, sometimes she felt the same when she was at the library.

She would often wander aimlessly and browse the titles, sometimes she'd run her fingers down the spines of the books just to see how they felt. In front of her Tom reached out with one slender hand and traced the rows of books as he walked down the isle.

"Do you enjoy the smell of particularly old books?" he asked, pulling a particularly fat tome from the shelf. He opened it and sniffed. Hermione joined him. The smell of musty paper greeted her nostrils. It was so vivid, as if she was actually standing there with the ghostly boy. She could feel him next to her, she could smell the books. The dream wasn't shifting erratically like most dreams do. It was focused and clear. She reached out for a copy of Pride and Prejudice. She could feel the weight of the book in her hands. She could feel the soft rush of wind as she flipped through the pages.

Everything was so real.

She looked back at Tom whose attention was now focused solely on her. She was even more confused.

"You're rather curious," he said quietly.

"How so?" she responded.

"You don't say much. I enjoy that. You don't need to ask unnecessary amounts of unnecessary questions. You simply observe," he answered.

The setting began to blur and contort. Hermione shook her head slightly trying to focus herself. It didn't help. The bookstore began to disappear. She looked up into Tom's eyes. They were soft, gray, and glittering. It was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.

Yeah. I'm being a little less than straightforward right now. If you're confused or wondering what's happening. Don't worry, that's the point!

Thank you for such a positive response to my fic. I really appreciate all of you