A new story for Moonlight Shadows. This is based on if Hermione was killed in the first floor girl's bathroom and nobody came to save her. It would then detail her life as a ghost of Hogwarts throughout the years.


Prologue

"It's Win-gaar-dium Levi-oh-sa. Not Leviosar. She's a nightmare," said the second youngest of the Weasley brood, a redhaired boy with a pale face and freckles as he and a black-haired boy with glasses walked out of the Charms classroom after that day's lesson, all the students looking forward to the Halloween feast that was to be had in the Great Hall that evening. Someone pushed past them, holding her books to her chest, a bowed head of bushy brown hair and disappeared out of sight.

"I think she heard you," said the bespectacled black-haired boy.

"Who cares?" said the redhead. "It's no wonder she hasn't got any friends, being a bossy know-it-all. Come on Harry, let's drop go relax in the Common Room until dinner." As the two boys made their way to the staircase that would take them up the four remaining floors to the seventh-floor corridor, they thought no more about the Charms lesson or about Hermione Granger.

The crying first year who was new to the magical world had just wanted to help the redhaired boy with his pronunciation, which was horrible, she might add. Yet, instead of being thankful for the help she had been trying to give, he had made fun of her and fumed the rest of the lesson. Down two flights of stairs she ran until she reached the first-floor girl's bathroom and hurried inside, tears streaming down her face. Entering one of the stalls she sat on the toilet, her books clutched close to her chest and cried. She had never had any friends at primary school for she preferred books and learning to the rough and tumble games of her peers. Thus, she had been called a bookworm and a know-it-all by her peers. At recess and lunch, she had sat by herself or on the sidelines, watching other children play for nobody wanted to interact with her. Eventually, even her teachers stopped calling on her, as she seemed to always know the answer for everything and they wanted other children to have a chance at answering questions.

When Hermione had discovered she was a witch on her eleventh birthday, she had eagerly accepted the chance to learn something new and potentially make friends yet what she had found on the Hogwarts Express and so far in her month at Hogwarts, was that the magical world had their own prejudices towards people like her from Muggle backgrounds, such as that pompous git, Draco Malfoy. Her teachers seemed to like her, except for the Potions Master but then he didn't seem to like anyone who wasn't a member of Slytherin House.

Hours passed and nobody came to comfort the crying child or notice her absence. Towards the start of dinner two girls that Hermione shared a dorm with, Padma Patil and Lavender Brown, came into the bathroom giggling about some Quidditch star. Hermione rubbed at her eyes as she stood at one of the sinks, washing her hands as her dorm mates came in and looked at her but neither girl said a word. After a few minutes, they left and little did anyone know…that would be the last time Hermione was seen alive.

In the Great Hall as the Halloween feast began, there was nobody to notice that a young student of Gryffindor was missing from the house of the lions. Not even the Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall, noticed the absence of one of her charges. This might be forgiven, there were a lot of students in the Great Hall but it was something that should have been taken into consideration with the holiday and making sure everyone was present to get a good meal full of sweets, pies and a glorious dinner cooked by the house-elves who worked behind the scenes to make the meals and do the cleaning of the school when students and staff alike were in bed.

Yet in the first-floor girl's bathroom, Hermione Granger knew not the happiness of a feast or of sitting with friends for she had neither in her life. The twelve-year-old girl sat in the stall she had occupied, her eyes red rimmed from crying as the night drew on. Her stomach growled and she wondered if she should go down to the Great Hall…were they still having the feast…not hearing the slow footsteps of a mountain troll entering the bathroom she occupied. Might as well clean up before going downstairs, she thought to herself and set her books down on the floor before opening the door and walking out of the bathroom.

Opening the door, she rubbed at her eyes and sniffled once before lifting her head. Something turned to her and she stared with wide eyes at the twelve-foot mountain troll that stood in the girl's bathroom. As he shuffled towards her, dragging the heavy wooden club along the floor, she began to back up into the stall door and ran inside it, cowering with her hands over her ears. A swish of air passed near where she crouched, the sounds of splintering wood and falling stone crashing around her. She let out a scream and crawled out from the ruined bathroom stalls to huddle beneath the sink. Please..someone help me! The troll turned and lifted its club before bringing it down on the sink, catching Hermione's leg and shattering it as she tried to crawl underneath another sink, another scream erupting from the child's throat. As she crawled under the sinks, trying desperately to get to the safety of the hallway to call for help when the sinks before her shattered. Whimpering from fright, Hermione tried to get up, only to be caught in the stomach by a hard blow of the troll's arm and thrown into the wall where her head smacked off the stone before her limp body fell to the floor.

Blood ran down her forehead from where she had been sent into the wall and she lay before the troll in pain and dazed from what had just happened. "He…help," she begged, her voice a dry croak. It hurt for her to speak and she could only let out a horrible scream as the troll's club smashed down on her chest, punching a hole through skin and bone. "H…mo…mom. D…dad. I…I want…," she tried as she lay there gasping for breath. Another crunch of bone and the sound of her skull cracking and she went still, blood pouring from the massive injuries to her broken form.