Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even a little.

A/N- this is obviously non-canon. I wouldn't advise reading any further if that bothers you. :-)

One year. Three hundred sixty-five empty, horrid days since she took him.

Professor Hermione Granger sat at her desk in the empty Transfiguration classroom, thinking back to the day that ruined her life:

It had been a beautiful afternoon. Birds singing, flowers in bloom, all of that rot. The Battle of Hogwarts Memorial Service was underway on the school grounds, and the Quidditch pitch was packed with staff, students and what seemed like all of wizarding society. "Here to dedicate the Monument to the Lost, I give you Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley." Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stepped to the side of the stage, smiling gently in spite of the somber occasion as the two war heroes approached the podium. Ron was holding Hermione's hand, and it was obvious they had the glow of newly acknowledged love about them.

Hermione looked at the crowd, gathering herself to deliver the speech she had painstakingly written. Ron, of course, would wing it as always. She took a deep breath, ready to begin, and-

"BITCH! He's mine! He's mine!" She and Ron both turned toward the source of the venom, and saw Lavender Brown, her face contorted with rage. Tears were streaming from her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice them. Screaming wordlessly, she raised her wand and pointed it at the source of her jealousy. A stream of ugly red light shot forward.

Ron had moved to shield Hermione and he took the brunt. The redhead crumpled at his lover's feet, and she watched in horror as the life left his eyes. Aurors had subdued Lavender almost as quickly as she acted, but it just wasn't fast enough.

It was determined that Lavender had suffered a psychotic break in response to the stress she endured during the war. The Wizengamot found her not guilty due to Insanity, and she was committed to St. Mungo's indefinitely. When the aurors ran a Priori Incantatem on her wand, they were shocked to discover that it hadn't been a spell at all; it was just focused fury.

Hermione couldn't remember much from the first few weeks after Ron's death, and she preferred it that way. The Weasley family had handled Ron's funeral arrangements, with Hermione semi-functioning in a numb haze. If she hadn't had Harry in her life, well, she didn't think she would have survived. He had been so strong for everyone else. When the funeral was over, Harry took Ginny to an undisclosed location and began working through his grief. No one had heard from him in months.

Hermione received regular owls from Gin, and it sounded like Harry was making slow but steady progress.

She wished she could say the same. Abandoning all pretense of grading parchments, she put her head in her hands and sobbed.

She never saw the blue eyes watching sadly from a corner, or the gray ones peeking around the door.

_DMHG_

Potions Professor Draco Malfoy returned to his chambers, still thinking about the brunette witch. He and Granger weren't friends. More like professional acquaintances. They could be in the same room and remain civil, but he suspected that was due more to her being on autopilot than to any real maturity on either of their parts. He would admit that he did miss arguing with her. For some reason, he'd always loved to see her riled. And there was just something so...wrong about seeing her in such misery.

Not that he cared.

"Sure. Wouldn't be that. Miserable prat - at least be honest with yourself."

Malfoy spun toward the voice with his wand raised, and decided he'd lost his mind.

Ronald Weasley was sitting on his sofa.

Wait, strike that. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious that Weasley was translucent.

"A ghost? You're a bloody ghost and you're haunting me? Brilliant. I'm not even dead, and I'm in Hell." Malfoy moved closer to the apparition, and poked his wand through it.

"Oi! D'you mind? That's damned rude! Of course, what more should I expect from a ferret?" The specter eyed him contemptuously.

"At the moment you're fortunate if I don't begin the proceedings to exorcise you. If you're able to come back, why aren't you hanging around Granger?"

"I did that earlier. And don't think I didn't see you watching her from the door."

That gave Malfoy pause. "I was passing by, and I heard her. It was only decent to check on a fellow professor."

"Merlin. And everyone thought I was thick. Incidentally, the decent thing would have been to go in and offer some kind of comfort."

"And in what world do you honestly think she would welcome comfort from me?" Malfoy laughed bitterly and turned away to pour himself a drink. "You never explained what you're doing in my quarters. Don't think I've forgotten."

The ghost sighed. "I've been watching you for a while now. You seem to 'happen' to be near Hermione quite often." Malfoy made to protest, silencing when Weasley held up a hand. "When I died, it was explained to me why they took me so early. Have you ever heard of the Fates?"

Draco scratched his head. "I think so. Three witches, right?"

"Three goddesses, actually. They're known as the Moirai to the Greeks, and the Parcae in the Roman world. They control our destinies from birth 'til death. Each of us has a thread. A lifeline. My thread, for lack of a better way to explain it, got crossed."

"And they killed you for that? How could you cross your lifeline?" Malfoy was surprised to find he felt a pang of sympathy for the poor bastard.

"By falling in love with 'Mione, and having her love me back like she did. The Fates told me that we weren't the right match. Normally, they let mortals work it out on their own. It passes for entertainment there. In this case, it was too important. They couldn't allow things to get fouled up. A child born of Hermione Granger and her Twin Flame will usher in a new time of light and spiritual ascension for the wizarding world." It was obvious Weasley was trying not to pull a face at this.

Malfoy couldn't find it in himself to mock the ginger. This was so far beyond fucked-up that he didn't know where to begin. "Twin Flame? What do you need me for, then? You want help finding the bloke?"

Ron looked at his feet for a long time. "No, I don't need any help finding him. I know who he is. Before I can go on to my just reward or whatever, I have to assist him in getting together with my former girlfriend. So trust me, Malfoy, you aren't the only one thinking you're in Hell right now."

"The shape she's in, I'd plan on being here a long time, if I were you."

"Then we better both get comfortable, because I won't be leaving you for a while."

The blond gaped at the spirit, then went back and poured himself a double.