Disclaimer : Harry Potter and related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Naruto and related characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi. I'm just playing in the sand-box over here.

Rating : I believe will be a T until such time as the dead parts are over. You'll see what I mean.

Author's Note : So… this would be why chapters of Pawprints have been stuck on the backburner. As an explanation, I supposed I should start by saying this fic is inspired by the unfinished Paradoxicality written by Willow-Bee the Cat. While I liked the premise of the story, it was mostly abandoned several years ago and I didn't really liked how they went about it. This promises to have 100% less talking magical/ninja cats somehow smoothing things over, even if that was kind of bada**. I will admit having the two (Hermione and Kakashi) meet in the near-death experience part is his/her/it's idea, but the how and why written here is all my creation.

I am aware the epilogue of Harry Potter has the four of them (Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione) poping kids out like it's nothing immediately after the war, but that's a bit more than I can agree with. For one, I don't like the Harry/Ginny pairing simply because she's a damn fangirl and her behavior at the end of book six was rather disturbing. For two, I have no faith in the Ron/Hermione pairing because they fight way too much and Ron's a bit of a prat. I really don't see either relationship lasting more than a few years, married or not, and so my work will reflect that. As to any children named in the end of book seven, no. Albus Severus alone? Hell no. Again, for one Harry abhorred Snape way too much and way too long to have ever actually agree to name his kid after the man. Great spy, sure. Decent man? Nope, hell didn't freeze over.

Because did everyone forget his hand in Sirius' death? Yes? No?

All Your Base Are Belong To Us

Part One, Chapter One

To one who has lived a full life, death is but the next greatest adventure… or at least, that is how it should be if one wasn't going to be killed well short of a full life.

Hermione Jean Weasley wasn't really looking forward to her next great adventure, she was still rather involved with living out this one. However, it didn't look as if she would have the chance to actually live out her life.

Harry was… probably far enough away, no matter how much time the witch tried to buy for him to somehow rescue her from this latest cluster-fuck. Ron should have been here… but her husband had another episode being a jealous prat and stormed off earlier.

It made her wonder, sometimes, exactly why did she marry him.

Hermione wrenched her attention back to the matter at hand before her mind could wander off down old worries, deftly sorting out the rune arrays she was trying to understand and ignoring the less dangerous ones.

The day was supposed to be a rare day off for the former 'Golden Trio'. Between Lord Harry James Potter's Wizengamot duties, his position as Teddy Lupin's Godfather, husband of one Ginny Potter, and his own Auror work, Harry didn't have a lot of free time to spend. Hermione was nearly just as bad, dogging the faded footsteps of one of their old classmates' aunt, Amelia Bones, in between her own work as a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, being both wife of their other friend Ron and Molly's daughter-in-law.

Yes, the last two were very different things.

Aware the redirecting parts of the rune array was causing her concentration to slip yet again, the witch huffed and refocused. Kneeling on cobblestones wasn't really that great, she could feel the stones press into her kneecaps and a sharp bit of something jabbing her shin. The discomfort helped slightly, though, as any shifting she did pointedly returned her attention to the matter at hand.

This was a very nasty example of how to inflict harm without ever being in the same area using magic. A rune bomb, for all intents and purposes.

Hermione wasn't sure if someone was aping the muggles and the nuclear abilities they had, or if this was just one more aspect of war-mage knowhow that caused the current overdependence on wands to be forced. The old magics were more powerful than what a modern-day wizard could do, more taxing and therefore more effective. On the other hand, it was also much more destructive in the right, or wrong, hands.

One only had to look at what destruction Tom Riddle Jr. had wrought on the magical society to see that.

If this detonated in the middle of Diagon Alley, the death-toll would be enormous. Not only she and her best friend Harry would pay the price, but Teddy was here with Andromeda Tonks. That didn't include the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with her brother-in-law and his store just down the street, all his customers, and everyone else in range of this thing that could end up killed if the formerly bushy-haired witch failed to disarm the damn thing. A few of Harry's fellow Aurors were helping him try clearing up the street, but magic was a frustrating thing sometimes. There were still people flooing into shops that had been hastily closed and Apparating into the street itself.

She could see most of what the bomb had in terms of protection, the surprisingly well-crafted attention deflection she was defeating with sheer mental focus and the proximity trigger that would go off if she tried touching the etched silver covering the worst of the runes. Thankfully the proximity trigger would only go off at human touch, because flipping the plate of silver with a piece of trash hastily transfigured into a stick worked just as well as touching it herself. Underneath it was fairly simple, a rune etched container of some liquid, a pocket watch, and a note.

Hermione warily eyed the container, identifying the liquid as class-B Erumpent Horn Fluid. That much would be more than enough to put a sizable hole in downtown London, no matter what caused it to go off. The pocket watch told her nothing more than what she already knew, that it was just two minutes until noon.

The note, on the other hand, told her she was concentrating on the wrong thing.

She drew a blank for a very long moment, until the underside of the silver shell caught her attention… and the runes carved there.

(ooo000ooo)

Hermione blinked, then blinked again as she blankly stared out into the dark swamp she found herself in.

A large part of her mind was fishing back over the last few moments in her memory. Between her rather embarrassing 'muggle moment', as her husband ever so lovingly referred them to, and trying to understand what had just happened to her that made her end up here.

One thing Hermione had never gotten used to in her life was how most wizards and witches thought when it came to applying magic outside the box. Like any muggle-raised witch, Hermione though the silver plate was a covering and not the bomb itself. Which had turned out to be only half right, if the slowly forming suspicion she was trying not to acknowledge was right.

That also meant that someone had targeted her or someone that thought like her.

For the last few years, there had only been a small increase of muggle-born Aurors in the force. The lingering damage from the Second Wizarding War's second half, the systematic execution of the majority of muggle-born witches and wizards, had prevented anyone from wanting to try their hand at any job in the Ministry of Magic. Hermione had been an exception rather than the norm, much to her own disappointment. Even after fighting for the right to live no matter her circumstance of birth, muggle-borns were still the minority in the Ministry.

Harry had just been telling her that over lunch before they were both called in to help secure the site, and how happy he was to see a handful more applying for the Auror training course.

It was possible not everyone was happy with that same fact as Harry was, and instead wanted the status-quo to remain as is. Purebloods in control of everything, as it had been for centuries before.

Hermione spent another moment thinking, rather brainstorming, what the event would effect and what yet more deaths would mean for her society, and then pushed it away.

Given her surroundings, it may be possible she wouldn't have the opportunity to do anything about it. Best to concentrate on the now and push any lingering resentment of her co-workers calling in old family favors to be promoted ahead of her for later.

Hermione was rather certain she had met her end, and with the benefit of hindsight and the lack of urgency over the situation she fully realized handling things herself had been a terribly bad idea. Her musings over her actions, even if they were her last ones in the living world, was tempered with the realization that she had overestimated her reliable logic in face of the rune array's distractions. The array allowed her to focus on it, but that had also been worked into it's self-defense. Instead of enabling her a good look, it influenced her into acting on her own… without a second pair of eyes to help her or waiting for a damn Curse-Breaker to arrive on scene.

It had encouraged rashness if it couldn't distract. A rather insidious little twist, if the witch was forced to be honest.

Forcing back her bleated realizations over what she had done, something she had experience in from a year spent on the run and stealing to support herself and her boys, Hermione turned her attention to the present so she could afford a break-down later.

She inspected the place she seemed to have arrived in, staunchly ignoring the part of her that whispered about her supposed 'death'. Standing on a rickety wooden walkway stretching through the swampy marshland, only odd because she didn't recall standing up, the witch inspected the mossy trees and the murky water with a detached sense of bemusement.

Harry got King's Cross in his death-defying adventure, she apparently wasn't that straightforward and got a swamp instead.

The Man-Who-Won eventually told her and Ron about that incident one bitter winter night, between Voldemort cursing his own Horcrux out of Harry's head and his surprise return for the last bit of fighting. Meeting Dumbledore and his conversation about Tom Riddle's ultimate fate was something Hermione hadn't envied her brother in all but blood.

However… they had assumed Harry had the misadventure he had because the Killing Curse only took out the Horcrux and not the young man himself.

Hermione didn't have a Horcrux in her head, or attached to her soul, or anything whatever fates in existence would accept in exchange for death-defying in the traditional Potter manner.

Warily keeping an eye on her disturbingly silent and dreary surroundings, the witch bent her formidable brainpower onto figuring out what she and Harry had in common and why she was where she was.

At the time of the Battle for Hogwarts, Harry had… no, that couldn't be it. He had… all three Deathly Hallows?

Not that he physically had the wand, because Voldemort still held it and used it against Harry in that last exchange. Or the stone, because from what he told them he cast that aside in the forest just before walking to his assumed death.

At the time, he only physically held the cloak.

Hermione blinked down at the black water under the warped wooden planks she was standing on, considering that.

About a year or so after the final battle of the war, and after the discussion of what had happened to him that day, Harry had confided in the other two that the Hallows refused to stop following him. Even after casting the Resurrection Stone aside and breaking the Elder Wand, they still appeared on his bedside table with the Invisibility Cloak every morning. Upon discussing it, or more like talking Harry down from a complete freak-out over the 'Master of Death' title, they split the Hallows up. Harry kept the cloak, as it was an heirloom of his family. Ron, of course, picked the unbeatable wand and surprisingly used it to prop open their bedroom window. Hermione claimed the stone, just to remove temptation from Harry to go out like his long dead ancestor who initially held the stone, and used it as a…

She reached under her neckline, picked up the chain she wore, and stared at the little cracked black gem set in a silver pendent for a long moment.

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows gleamed back at her, glowing slightly brighter since the last time she paid attention to it.

Well… as her husband would say… Bloody Hell.

She had never used it, in fact she stubbornly ignored it was there most days. The only reason she had it was to reassure Harry and keep him from abusing the souls of those long dead as he asked her to.

Hermione dropped the necklace, returning her attention to the eerie swamp she was in. Hallow influenced or not, she was no wilting wall-flower who would passively accept what came to her.

She was dead, this wasn't like any other out-of-body experience she ever heard or read about, and one of the Hallows had followed her. The witch sat herself on the worn wooden walkway she found herself on and allowed herself a few moments to wallow in regret, recriminations, and a few why me?

It was after wishing that Harry got Teddy and Andi out of there in time, and before she could start wondering what her in-laws would say about her demise, that Hermione pulled herself together and thought back to what Harry had told her and Ron about his encounter with this event.

A train to go on or deciding to go back was what Harry had faced in the end with Dumbledore. Hermione was facing… a walkway through a swamp. On her own.

Giving her surroundings another hard look, the witch decided she had three choices, and several ways of carrying out any choice. She could follow either end of the wooden path she was on, but since she had appeared facing neither direction it rambled into she didn't know which one was forward or back. She could wait where she was and hope that would take her back, for Harry hadn't said what had taken him back to the clearing in the living realm.

Or she could step off the path, and that held the most promise of losing her way in more ways than one.

Her surroundings were oppressively dark in a way, thick tree cover choked out all but the weakest glimmers of light that only seemed to highlight the lack of illumination available. Reeds and a few thick bushes hemmed the waterways as much as their bigger cousins concealed the sky, lending the atmosphere a gloomy kind of ambiance. At odds with the dark surroundings, the wooden planks that made up the walkway she was seated on were bleached and weather beaten.

Given all the fairytales she had read, Hermione was rather tempted to remain on the path. Not just because the swamp in particular looked rather unhospitable, but some races of beings were rather strict on the remaining on clear paths parts. The Fay, in a word, who's realm of responsibility sometimes included the unseen paths of the world this very well may be part of.

Narrowing down the two options to one, because she wasn't going to allow herself to wallow any more if there was the slightest sliver of hope of putting her wrongs to right, gave the witch a hard time. On one hand one direction looked as if more light was just beyond the bend, on the other hand the opposite direction's path looked a bit more stable.

Getting to her feet, and ignoring the creaking of old wood that sounded impossibly loud in the oppressive silence around her, Hermione almost took a step down the darker path before something occurred to her.

Just because it looked stable wasn't necessarily because it was more stable. Additionally, it was darker and it seemed to press into very shadowy areas from what little she could make out beyond the closest moss covered trunks. Somehow the whole effect drew her mind into comparing it with the 'unknown'.

…and wasn't lighter some universal story gimmick to imply safer?

She swung around, giving the other way another look of it's own.

In the distance she could make out smears of purple and green, whether that was light reflecting off the water or some kind of fauna was debatable. More importantly, there was a grey undertone to the darkness over there. Likely a possibility because there was more light over there. However, there was also more moss covering the odd plank from what she could see, and the wood not covered looked to be splintering the farther away it was from her starting position.

This dilemma almost made Hermione growl into the silence. Had this been a storybook, she could have easily drawn clues to what path was safer for the hero or heroine from the word choice the author included.

This wasn't a storybook, and she was drawing a blank on which path would be correct.

Or if there even was a correct path. Life sometimes refused to follow predictable patterns.

ǂAǂ

Hatake Kakashi wished to say he was surprised.

He wasn't, for the record, but he wished anyways.

The being dead and sitting at a campfire well after his last breath of life escaped him was meh. He'd experienced weirder.

Seeing his long dead father sitting at the same campfire, like those long ago camp nights they both used to do well before Kakashi hit and then powered through the Konohagakure shinobi academy… well, still not the weirdest.

The holder of the weirdest thing Kakashi had ever seen was still held by Gai cross-dressing for a day of training, only to end up taking an emergency rescue mission and dragging his self-proclaimed rival along for backup without ever changing. No matter the amount of alcohol he, Genma, and Asuma put away shortly after returning to the village had eliminated the image of a skimpy sundress wearing taijutsu master fighting as usual from their memories.

Getting killed protecting one of the younger generation was okay, sort of. Kakashi might not have given much thought to how he would die, just sometimes wished it to come sooner rather than later. As it was, that death was something he didn't mind at all. The Akimichi heir was a friend of Naruto's, from the watch duty Hound had participated in he knew that, therefore Kakashi was perfectly okay with dying for him.

Getting killed with a nail of all things was a little embarrassing. Especially for a retired ANBU agent, elite jōnin of Konohagakure, and as the last Hatake alive.

Slightly worse than getting killed by a nail was that his father was waiting for him on the other side and drew the story out of him. Sakumo was more than just a little entertained by it, discounting the fact it had ended with his son's death.

Kakashi was only thankful he wasn't sitting around a campfire with Minato-sensei or Obito and being forced to tell them the horrible story of his own death. It was a small mercy, but one he was thankful for anyways.

"…I was wrong."

"Oh?"

The younger rubbed the back of his neck, thinking all those years ago to a very horrible period in their lives. Just before his father committed seppuku. "Back then, when I… I was wrong. You were a great otou-sama, and a shinobi. A great hero, no matter what the village thought of you. It took a very good friend of mine to point it out for me before I realized it."

Sakumo shrugged it off, but the slow curl to his mouth showed he was rather touched by his son's words. "You were young, Kakashi. I forgave you a long time ago."

While it was liberating in a way to hear that from his father, Kakashi hadn't forgiven himself for it. He had a long laundry list of regrets and bitter wishes, even his father couldn't knock that one off with only a few words.

"Tell me how your life went." The elder Hatake insisted after another comfortable moment, in which the two of them basked in the presence of the other. It had been a very long time since they could, and both of them were ninja enough to be greedy about the comfort.

Although he didn't really want to tell his father about his failures through life, Kakashi did as he was told anyways.

From Minato-sensei formally apprenticing him, Kushina-nee taking care of him when the blond future Yondaime couldn't due to the Third Great Shinobi War, to his genin team. Then how it all broke apart, first with Obito's death then Rin's… then that thrice cursed night both the Fourth Hokage and Uzumaki Kushina died. ANBU Kakashi glossed over, because no matter if this was his father before him regulations were strict about who you could tell about any of it. Sakumo seemed to understand, so the younger Hatake then shifted to his few friends and colleges. Gai to Genma, then to Raido and Tenzou, to Asuma and Kurenai. He told the older man the better days of talking on the next Team Seven, of the hate heaped on Naruto and Sakura's fangirl tendencies and before Sasuke became a traitor.

Of a C-ranked escort mission that turned into an A-ranked liberation mission of an oppressed country.

Then he told his father how the beginning of the end started.

The Uchiha Massacre and the fallout of that. Of his genin's Chūnin Exams, then of Snake traitors and cursed seals. The Invasion by Sunagakure that was only turned away due to his most scorned genin going toe to toe with another jinchūriki and winning. Then Kakashi told Sakumo how they slowly lost Sasuke to his blind quest of vengeance, their first attempt to bring Sasuke back, and how after waking from getting Tsukuyomi'ed into a coma Jiraiya the Toad Sage claimed his godson's attention then skipped out for two years and how Sakura demanded Tsunade train her when it seemed as if she would be left behind.

Left with no students and little else in barely more than a week of time, of how Kakashi limped back into ANBU for those horrible and lonely two years.

Then of Naruto's homecoming, and finally getting his last two students back.

Kakashi, by then, had been talking for hours so he skipped parts here and there from then on, about the temporary death of the Kazekage after Shukaku's extraction and Akatsuki's appearances in hunting down the jinchūriki. Then Asuma's death, and the effects of that. Sai and Tenzou's, named Yamato for the time, attachment to Team Kakashi, then encountering Orochimaru again and the first time Naruto lost his control over his bijuu. Then how Jiraiya dies, and the truth of Itachi's actions and the mental snap Sasuke went through when he realized he hated the wrong person for years.

Then Pein's invasion of Konoha, and the first of the fighting Kakashi had time to participate in before he was struck down in defense of the Akimichi heir.

The silence that fell between them when Kakashi finished wasn't uncomfortable, like the younger had thought it might become if he told his father of his life. The older Hatake didn't look disappointed or anything as Kakashi's nightmares had insisted the man would be if he knew how much of a failure his only son had become. Sakumo didn't look happy over the twists and turns his life had taken, granted, but not disappointed.

"I've known shinobi who buckled under a fraction of the stress you've been put through, Kakashi." Sakumo reassured him after another moment marveling over his son's drive to survive and live, even if it was only because of a promise to see the future with his dead teammate's eye. "I am proud of you picking up and carrying on, no matter what had happened."

It was a bitter and mostly lonely life, but there were high points as well. Not nearly as many as any father would wish for their only child, but it was his life and therefore the older shinobi was proud of him.

"…I am kind of disappointed I have no grandkids, though."

Kakashi blinked slowly at his father. "You have got to be joking."

Sakumo rubbed the underside of his jaw sheepishly. "No, not really. After your kaa-chan died… grandkids were something I was really hoping for. If I couldn't have more children, then it was up to you to see to it."

Given the younger Hatake was more concerned his father would be disappointed in him for any of the numerous fuck-ups he had a finger in, the fact his only complaint was about Kakashi's eternal bachelor status was a little… irritating. In a good way, the younger shinobi hastened to tack on even if the thought was only in his head. This was his father, and his father had forgiven him so everything else was ignorable.

Mostly.

"There wasn't really a great wealth of options, otou-sama…"

"Nonsense. You're a Hatake, as Jiraiya put it we're a little too pretty for our own good." Sakumo insisted with a lopsided grin, waving away his son's attempt to justify his lack of effort on that end. "And don't even say there weren't offers, because there were plenty offers for an arranged marriage well before you stopped wearing diapers."

Kakashi felt a vein in his temple tick in irritation, and smoothed out the expression he was sure was plastered over his covered face. Thank the kami it was only the two of them sitting around the fire, he didn't want to know what Obito would have done with that kind of information. "Yeah, well… with both your reputation and sensei's hanging over me, then my own once I was actually of age for anything like that, taking a wife or having a family would've been more risk than I wanted to tempt fate with."

"Point…"

"Iwagakure alone would've-"

"I got the point, Shi-kun." Sakumo interrupted, not sharply but with enough disgruntlement his son smirked safely behind his ever present mask.

He accepted his victory with all the grace his strange relationship with Gai had instilled in him and changed the subject. "So now what?"

"Hmm?"

"We're dead, right? Where is kaa-chan, and Minato-sensei? Or Kushina-nee and Jiraiya-sama?"

"Aa… well… about that." The older, because Sakumo lived to be just shy of thirty and Kakashi wasn't quite there yet, Hatake hesitated over that question enough to make his son suspicious.

"Otou-sama?"

"You're not quite dead yet, Kakashi. Close enough to have a near-death experience but not enough to cross over." Waving a hand at their little campfire, then at the dark skies above them, the older shinobi gave a one shoulder shrug. "This is… real in the same way it's not, conversely."

"Are you trying to tell me this is all in my head?" Kakashi was used to disappointment, knew the emotion more than he liked to admit to. Hearing that this wasn't any more real than a genjutsu was bitterly disappointing.

"So what if it's all in your head? That doesn't make it any less real, you know."

It should have been harder to sneak up on two jōnin of Konohagakure, but the woman did just that. Neither shinobi had been talking loudly, but then again there wasn't a whole lot more noise to cover up their conversation either.

It was only after Kakashi gave her an once-over, taking in the odd robes and the way she held herself like a civilian with no great taijutsu training, that he noticed the grass around her feet were making no noise. No footsteps from her boots, no rasp of grass bending and scraping against itself, no annoying twigs snapping.

She, while the younger Hatake was coming to his own realization, gave the two of them a look over of her own before acquiring a small blush and executing a very odd bow. "Oh… forgive me for interrupting. I'm just passing through, continue with your near-death visit."

Kakashi blinked at her blankly as Sakumo quirked a wry smile for her. "I would ask you to explain to my son your comment, miss."

"A-are you sure? You really only have so much time, surely it's best if it comes from you?" She asked instead of heeding the request, glancing between them both.

"I've said what I needed to say." Sakumo reassured her, but his son saw how he considered the young woman standing before them uncertainly. "I don't believe we've met you before, so…?"

"I am Hermione Weasley… err, Granger. I suppose my husband is released from our wedding vows on my death…" The last part was mostly her mumbling to herself, but both shinobi heard it clearly with their trained hearing. Which made how she snuck up on them even more confusing, because Hatakes had very good hearing. "Erm… anyways. As to this… this is what I believe might be called Limbo, it's where the spirits of the dead linger if they have a great enough wish to speak with the living or wait for them to join them in the afterlife. Theoretically it's not someplace one can physically perceive, which is why this is technically happening in your head."

Kakashi blinked at her again, which slowly changed to suspicious. "Your head or mine?"

"Either, both. The technicalities are really rather superficial." Hermione-san shrugged, waving a hand around dismissively. "However, this is the only plane of existence the dead can converse with the living without outside aid. Which means more living visit this one than normal."

There was a long pause before she continued.

"Again, theoretically."

"Prove it."

She blinked at him, as if he had suggested the strangest thing ever. "Think of something you have, that isn't on you at the moment, and want it in your hand."

Feeling rather naive, Kakashi did as she instructed. Thinking of Minato-sensei's hiraishin kunai and wishing he had it again because it was comforting no matter how long it had been since the man was alive.

The heavy weight that suddenly pulled his hand down caused the jōnin to stare at the three-pronged kunai now gripped in his hand.

"Since I have no idea what that is, other than a very sharp if strange knife, that was your mind that affected this place." Hermione-san informed him softly, frowning slightly at his continued silence. "I suppose it also can extend to the place we are in, in one being able to change the setting… but I haven't tested that yet."

"Like how?" Sakumo asked, because Kakashi was a bit too distracted with his sensei's old kunai.

"Like say I wanted… oh, damn!"

Jerking his head up, the younger Hatake blinked at their new surroundings.

It was a very strange castle on a hill, one that looked like Gai and his protégé had used as a target and smashed a few boulders into. There were some parts of it Kakashi wasn't sure how it remained standing, given that from the look of the supports under it should have collapsed long ago.

"Well… that's not…" The young woman coughed quietly. "Gentlemen, what would you say if I said welcome to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"There is no such thing as witchcraft." Kakashi repeated an oft-used ninja-civilian fact in a neutral tone of voice.

"I was afraid of that…"

Sakumo blinked at the marks of some battle that was fought here, then gave their unexpected guest a long look. "Are you suggesting there is?"

"Well… given you're talking to a witch…" Hermione-san trailed off and shrugged uncomfortably. "What do you think?"

ǂYǂ

Day 0

Hermione tersely explained to her two tagalongs about the basic reasons a fight took place here, and what defenses the castle had, then begged them to remain in the ruined Great Hall before running for her favorite place in the castle.

The Hogwarts library was just as it appeared in her memories, a quiet and cluttered place filled with books and tomes of magical applications. The only lack was the absence of Madam Pince, the rather strict librarian. The likelihood there was any kind of tome on what happened after death was so unlikely it was ridiculous, but Hermione was always calmer in the library than anywhere else.

Once alone, the witch found her former favorite spot and slumped into a seat. Spending a decent amount of time running her thoughts through both her actions here and in the clearing before.

Not only had she inadvertently shown two likely muggles the greatest castle of magical learning in the world, but even the briefest of looks would have raised suspicion over how the castle could stand on it's own… much less had she given into her first impulse and changed their surroundings to something less incriminating. Inviting them in had just been the path of least resistance, and hopefully the one where she might remotely extract a promise from whichever one wasn't completely dead to not talk about this.

It wasn't likely it would be believed, but breaches like this put the whole magical society at risk and Hermione was an upstanding citizen… now, at least.

With a wry snort for that thought, Hermione finally got to looking up the afterlife in any and all terms she could think of. While she was sure this wasn't actually Hogwarts castle itself, it was still a library.

She had dismissed the tomes on past lives, as it was shelved on the Divination section of the library, and the thick book on different afterlives of different cultures after skimming the section on Limbo before settling on a rather strange book from the Restricted Section titled Planes of Death and Assorted Realms by one Peter Nacion.

A very strange last name, given the situation. Hermione was rather sure this book wasn't something she'd ever see again.

"Impressive." The older of the two silver haired men, the one that introduced himself as Sakumo, commented as he wandered into the high ceiling room literally packed with shelves and desks.

"Did you have any trouble with the staircase?" She asked instead of letting her irritation with him not remaining in the Great Hall break loose, moving to a table so she wouldn't get a crick in her back from reading standing upright.

"A little, a very… strange thing that was."

"They like to move when you stand on them, especially if you happen to be late for class." Hermione absently informed him, already a few pages into the book's section on Limbo. "The west side one likes to go somewhere different every Friday, as well."

According to the book she was reading, and she tucked away the strange thought wondering if taking advice from a book that was possibly not real was a good idea or not, Limbo was a division of Hell where those souls that passed into it was judged. Not really a Purgatory in type, it was where souls were sorted for the Christian faith's Heaven and Hell.

Which was almost word for word what her other skimmed book had informed her of.

Hermione bit her lip as she turned that over in her head. So possibly this place was just a holding place for souls?

No, this was somewhat like what Harry had told her, Kakashi had summoned that strange knife just like how Harry initially got his clothing. However, the Man-Who-Won also had a guide who knew what was going on in his recently departed loved one… no matter how angry or irritated the old wizard had made Harry, he had still looked up to him.

Well… given the sheer number of people alive at any one time, the number of visitors to this realm or place couldn't be that small. Possibly it was just likely two having a near-death experience at the same moment had never crossed paths before…

…or this possibly wasn't Limbo or whatever Harry had visited before, in and of itself.

Albus Dumbledore could've just used the more slang term for being between, as in being held in limbo, and not the actual place named Limbo.

"By Morgana…"

"What?"

"Wrong book." Hermione responded instead of saying the phrases she had once scolded her husband for saying, shutting the heavy tome and leaving it where it was as she thought some more on the issue.

Possibly there might be something if she could find a book on near-death experiences?

An errant movement scraped her necklace against her collarbone, reminding the witch that there were a few more pieces to this puzzle than could be possibly written about.

"Hermione-san?"

"Err… what?"

Sakumo, for all that he was some strange person Hermione had met wandering the edge of the swamp she had found herself in on her death, looked slightly concerned. "Do you know what is going on? I had expected maybe a few hours with my son, and yet it has been much longer than that."

"I have a suspicion… but this shouldn't be possible." Her own words made the witch snort at herself. "Then again… what is possible and what is not is rather flexible when it comes to… never mind. Yes, Mr. Hatake. I have some idea."

"Mr.?"

"It means the same thing as your suffix –san." She reassured him, stalking to another set of shelving to investigate her next lead. "I highly doubt, due to our clothing and how it differs alone, that we speak the same language. If I recall correctly, social suffixes are things that occur in the Far East cultures… and therefore, since I am rather certain I am not talking in a language I have not yet learned, we are more than likely speaking different languages."

The older man, and he did look older than her even if it seemed to be more general wear and tear of a muggle's stressful life than the slow ageing of the magical society, nodded shortly as he took that suggestion in. "Which would be why I can't read any of this."

"More than likely… though Kakashi may actually be able to effect that somewhat… where is he?" Hermione turned to Sakumo as the question occurred to her, since this was a possibly semi-sentient castle no matter what realm it was present in.

"Exploring." He reassured her cheerfully as if that wasn't directly against what she had asked them both to do. "He's always been a restless one."

"Well, then… I dearly hope the suits of armor aren't patrolling for any non-students. Or that any of the castle's other defenses are activated, though I'm more than certain they have been deactivated in this version of it." She informed him archly, a little nettled by the flouting of her request. Then again, they had just as little reason to trust her as she had to trust them.

Which would make getting them out of this mess, whatever it was caused by, more than a little tricky.

"Something wrong?"

"Other than the fact I am mostly sure of, that we shouldn't have been able to meet? No, of course not."

Sakumo didn't even twitch at her sarcastic quip. "So what does that mean for us?"

"Something has gone wrong." The witch informed him as if it was possibly news to either. "I am uncertain if this is because of you two, or me… or…"

"Or?"

"Possibly something much more… ancient and otherworldly."

The Deathly Hallows… they weren't exactly tools of mortal make. An Invisibility Cloak such as the one the Potter family held should have only lasted decades if it had been made by purely human efforts, and yet it was an heirloom of unimaginable age. Same with the Resurrection Stone, as it's powers of calling the souls of the dead to the user wasn't something that was possible outside the banned arts of Necromancy. Even then, to summon something that had gone on before carried with it a hefty price and corrupted the final product no matter how careful one was. The Elder Wand… Hermione preferred it's current use to speculating what it could otherwise do.

The damage Grindelwald and Riddle did alone searching for it was example enough, much less that Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand was mended by the Death Stick… when according to any wand lore known that shouldn't have been possible.

"Do you know what it may be?"

"Possibly."

The man arched a silver eyebrow at her. "Will you inform me of what?"

Will she? Hermione bit her lip, fixing the man with a searching stare.

Messing up once was bad enough, would she actually risk the hundreds of years the magical world had hidden itself from everyone just to free the three of them from whatever they were stuck in? On the possibility it may or may not help them escape?

It was rather easy to answer that, she had to only think of little Teddy and Victoire.

"No, I do not trust you nearly as much as I should for such a thing."

Sakumo didn't look surprised, in fact he still didn't even twitch, just gave her a level look.

Hermione still felt like she should justify herself, simply because he was someone to talk to and he was older. "My society has been hidden for centuries, for both good and bad reasons. I will not discard that so easily just to save myself, much less two others I do not know nor trust not to use what you learn of me against me and mine."

"Blind obedience must have it's uses."

That stung her a bit, no matter how wrong he was about her. The witch snorted in response and turned away from him to find herself another book. "I've committed treason before, only I and the others I was with did it to save thousands whose only crime was the circumstance of their birth. Do not judge me, Mr Hatake, for you do not know of what you speak. Three lives against the hundreds that may fall if I speak? We do not compare."

(ooo000ooo)

Sakumo found his son watching the deathtrap staircases, probably trying to find a pattern to the movements.

Neither shinobi really tried that hard after the civilian woman had left them in the room without a ceiling, both had merely scaled the walls after getting over the fact the stairs moved freely and without an obvious pattern.

"Well?"

"You might just have to befriend her just enough to loosen her tongue."

Kakashi gave his father a flat look. "Didn't you say not to antagonize her? What did you do?"

"I may have implied she was being blind and stubborn." Sakumo informed him blandly. "Turns out she isn't, if what she spoke of was true."

The younger shinobi gestured to the damaged parts of the strange castle around them. "This didn't clue you in she might be more dangerous than most?"

"She might have only been here for the cleanup."

"It wouldn't have shown this kind of damage, then. Not if it was taken from her mind and made real." Kakashi refuted, standing straight up. Or more like horizontally, due to the fact his ninja sandals were planted on the wall next to an odd painting of an empty room. "This is more like if she fought here… then couldn't go back due to either circumstances or events pulling her away. If she was just one of many fighters she would have stayed to fix it up a little, otou-sama, it's only key personnel that get pulled away before such things are finished."

The elder eyed his son, shrugging that off with a sigh. "Well… anyways. She may know what is keeping us here, she confirmed that much before ignoring me."

"We could-"

"Do you know what kind of damage a witch can do, Kakashi?" Sakumo interrupted before he could even suggest interrogation. "I do not, nor do I know if we can defend against such a creature in enough time to remain mostly unscathed. Until we have more information, that's probably not a good idea."

Hesitating merely made his father hammer the other points home as if it was only a matter of fact.

"We may need her to help us escape this strange situation, since Hermione-san seems to have some idea on how to fix this… but I highly doubt she needs us to do it. If we frighten her off… she may just leave us stuck here."

There was a long moment of silence as he accepted that assessment.

"So… go make a new friend, Shi-kun!" Sakumo patted his son's head cheerfully, eyeing the staircases behind him. "I believe in you."

(ooo000ooo)

Day 1

"It's been over twenty-four hours, Hermione-san."

"Is it your turn to question me then?"

Kakashi hesitated, still a decent way away from the table she had set herself up at. "I was actually asking if you knew where to get something to eat."

"That may not be a good idea." Hermione frowned slightly at some of the books she had already poured through and dismissed from her growing collection of 'to be read'. "A few stories involving the realms of the dead include a warning not to eat food here, as swallowing seeds of a certain fruit may trap one here. A year for every seed, to be specific. Are you actually hungry, or are you asking from habit?"

"Habit. Do you know what seeds we should avoid?"

"Sweet pomegranate seeds, from the story. Though I don't know what they look like." Hermione though it through again, and even took another look at the book that held the story of Persephone and Hades. "It makes no mention of anything else… but that may just be because the first option tried to tether a living someone in the realm of the dead worked."

"That's… disturbing."

"The young lady trapped would agree with you on that… except she eventually ended up married to the Lord of the Underworld, the one who trapped her."

"And that's even more disturbing." Kakashi informed her blandly. "Is it alright to sleep?"

"I do not believe we may need to. At all." Hermione informed him slowly, as the distraction was pulling her from her supposed 'research mode' Harry and Ron liked to complain about. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't even tired yet. Given she spent a few hours wandering the edges and the only walkway of a forest and a swamp respectively, she should have been somewhat exhausted well before meeting him and his dead dad. "Though there are dormitories if you would like to try."

"Where?"

The witch thought about the four house dormitories, and the methods of gaining entrance that may or may not work. "Well… there's the two towers, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers, as well as the Slytherin Dungeons and Hufflepuff's Den. I don't actually know how to get into the badger's burrow, and the lion's den might be defunct due to the picture guardians not being here… so either the snake pit or the raven's roost."

He gave her a one-eyed flat look, which made her wonder if she should mention Mad-Eye and his magical eye prosthetic to him… but that was part of the reason the magical society had hidden themselves. Shoving that thought to one side, and what the man himself would think of her recent blunders, Hermione informed him of the Hogwarts School Houses, what they supposedly stood for, and a bit of their Founders.

It was while she was explaining the true Slytherins to watch out for, the ones that were never sorted with the rest of the snakes, that the library door opened with a bang.

Hermione's books nearly toppled off their piles and onto her… but Kakashi flinched and whirled around to confront whoever it was that threw the doors open.

Alastor 'Mad-Eye Moody' scowled at the both of them, especially at the witch gaping at him. "You sure took your time picking someone, Granger."

The witch gaped at the dead wizard currently scowling at her, but blurted something out before the strange man she was with could do anything about their abrupt guest. "Mad-Eye, who stole and wore your eye for almost a full year?"

The man snorted, but whether out of disgust or irritation was up in the air. "Bartemius Crouch Jr. Who injured us both a year after that, lassie?"

"Antonin Dolohov."

The wizard gave her a look with the one eye not currently spinning around like a top, then growled at what seemed to be nothing. "You going to come out and stop lurking around, old man?"

Sakumo slid out of absolutely nothing, and had it been at any other time Hermione might have questioned him and his appearing act… but Alastor's appearance was just a hair more important. "Why now? What changed?"

"You thought of what I would think of your situation, not just what I've previously said or thought." The gruff old Auror informed her sharply. "Not sure if I should smack you one for dragging me into this mess or be honored you thought of me for advice, Granger."

(ooo000ooo)

Day 2

Kakashi wasn't sure if he should be horrified at the sudden appearance of the old warrior or alarmed with his ragged features.

He was rather amused at his father's disgruntlement with the man's almost free spinning eye, which managed to pick him out nearly effortlessly.

'Mad-Eye', as Hermione called him, was apparently the guide for the young witch just like Sakumo was for him, his late arrival was only because she hadn't thought of wanting someone's advice until she had been talking to Kakashi about the school's inner workings.

His belated arrival did mean he had some idea of what was going on, and how to fix it. However, their conversation was rather stilted given they were discussing something neither wanted either shinobi to know about. It made their conversation rather awkward to try following along, to say the least. They had only recently either given it up as a bad job or finally got the point across to each other, and now both were bent over the research the woman had been doing for almost a full day before his appearance.

"Wrong society, Granger. What made you think of Greek legends?"

"They were the only ones to have stories of heroes venturing into Hell or Hades or the Underworld and get out without being dead." The witch defended her choice of topics rather sharply, still scowling at the grizzled old man. "It was the first ones I thought of, and given I'm sure both Kakashi and I would like to go back and continue our lives it was a good bet."

The man had a peg-leg, which made Kakashi cringe slightly to hear thumping around as he moved. He was somewhat sure the old warrior knew it, that eye was even creepier than a Hyūga's Byakugan, and was moving around just to make him flinch slightly.

"Your best bet would've been Celtic or old Scottish folklore… but even then."

"I know. I don't supposed you were given any advice about it?"

"Never happened before… you weren't supposed to be a keeper of it. That boy of yours was supposed to guard them."

"Harry asked me to, it was the only reason I accepted."

Mad-Eye accepted that with a half sneer, shrugging off the fact Hermione had used to defend her possession of whatever it was.

"I don't suppose we can now learn about whatever it is screwing up with the normal order of things?" Sakumo asked deceptively lightly.

Kakashi would like to know as well, he had a battle for his home to get back to and would like to do that well before he started forgetting some detail or another that would make his fellow ninja suspicious of him. T&I wasn't the best place to be sitting around, especially not if someone wanted to be sure Kakashi was who he said he was.

"No. I don't trust you." Mad-Eye told him just as bluntly as he seemed to always be, which made Hermione sigh and roll her eyes.

"Mad-Eye, you don't trust anyone. If we need to wait until you do trust them we'll be here until the end of time."

"He doesn't trust you?" The younger Hatake asked of the witch.

"Nope. I'm the lesser of three evils." She returned dryly, snagging a different tome to bury her nose in.

Since his father had set himself up to be the one to draw suspicion, Kakashi turned his attention to helping her. What they were looking for was a bit beyond them, but comparing old legends of heroes escaping the realms of the dead was something to occupy him until they finally did find some way out of this mess.

…or someone actually started talking.

In the meantime, Sakumo started an argument with Mad-Eye over what the two shinobi had a right to know. It was something both Kakashi and Hermione only listened to with half an ear, he was probably better at following along than she was given her non-reaction to a few of the barbs his father threw out. It wasn't until Sakumo brought up the events on pause in the living world did the witch actually drag her attention back to the matter at hand.

"That's how it should have gone." Mad-Eye countered, eerily calm in the face of the elder Hatake's irritated question. "Had things gone on as normal, both Granger and your boy there would have returned to where they were. That's not going to happen now."

"What!" Hermione yelped, almost dropping the books she tended to be rather protective of. "What do you mean?"

"You brought an eldritch token into this." The old warrior snapped, unapologetic and surly. "You didn't really think this was going to be as simple as finding a spell or ritual to correct it, did you?"

"Well… yes." She returned just as bluntly as him, planting her hands on the table between them all. "Token or not, I assumed I'd give it up and we'd go back to what we were doing."

"Not possible anymore." He informed them all blandly. "No, instead we're going to have to do this a slight bit differently."

"How different?" Kakashi asked lazily, but nearing the edge of his patience with all of it. It was one thing to be able to see his father, an entire different thing to be trapped somewhere with the man if he had the option to finish out his life.

"Think backwards."

(ooo000ooo)

"Mad-Eye, you must be joking." Hermione slowly told the paranoid old wizard slowly. He really couldn't be suggesting what she thought he was.

The legendary old Auror didn't even blink the only eye he could at her tone, which was probably a slight bit patronizing to be honest. "I do not joke, Granger."

"That's illegal. Besides, humans have only ever managed a day at the most and the rules-"

"Don't apply." Alastor barked instead of allowing her to finish. "That's man-made methods, not what we're dealing with. And I'd thank you not to suggest I was telling you to break the laws I upheld most of my damn life!"

"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Sakumo interjected calmly, glancing between the two of them.

"Time travel." Hermione informed him shortly, still glaring at the old wizard.

Kakashi twitched, in a very strange manner if the witch was pressed, then he marked his place with a finger like she tended to do when interrupted and leaned forward. "Time travel?"

"Granger is the guardian of one of Death's so-called boons." Mad-Eye spilled the beans they had been tiptoeing around rather easily, bland and gruff as if commenting on the weather. "That threw a spanner into the works the moment she had her own near-death experience, because the ones that come across the damn things are usually killed either by or for them. She wasn't, and therein lies our problem."

"Fine. So a day, maybe just a few hours?" Hermione gritted out, her experiences with a time-turner in her third year of Hogwarts reminding her of all the ways it could have gone wrong. "Then we can all pretend this never happened?"

"The pretty piece of rock is more powerful than that, Granger, and you know it."

"Bad things happen to those that mess with time, Mad-Eye."

"We're not the ones messing about." He returned sharply. "That rock is."

Sakumo interrupted before they really got going. "How much?"

"Possibly two decades or so."

Both Hatakes went still, even as Hermione made an inarticulate sound of irritation. "Time is not that flexible, Alastor!"

"Says who?"

She snapped her teeth shut, glaring at the wizard. "Says every study ever done on time itself."

"Which was done by wizards and the odd muggle. Neither of which can pull off the power to truly rearrange time and space." Alastor told her blandly. "Just ask the High Queen Mab."

"If I ever wanted to be killed or enslaved by a wrong word choice, I would surely ask the Queen of the Fay that question about her power."

"How do we do that?" Kakashi interjected before Mad-Eye could respond to her sarcastic retort. "Not the question thing, the time travel."

"Do you really want to be a child again?" Hermione asked of him, slightly surprised and a little confused.

"I'm pretty sure I can think of something to do."

"I have no wish to repeat my schooling. Or to muck about with time." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at all three of them. "If it's that or be dead I think we should remain dead."

"Good thing that's not possible then." Stumping to a chair, Alastor gave her a sneered smirk. "You both are technically not dead, therefore you're not allowed to remain here forever. I know what you worry over, Granger. And you're right, it could have all been a lot worse than it ended up being. But it could have been better, and if you have the opportunity to ensure it and don't have the luxury of ignoring that then you should by all means try."