Disclaimer: the wonderfull world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and so do her characters, and for the fates the idea comes from Dennis L. McKiernan's Once Upon a Winter's Night.


It was cold, miserable sort of day. Rain pelted the ground and anyone who had left his or her umbrella in the dormitory. It was the kind of day most people spent curled up with a good book in front of a fire. However, this day happened to be the final Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, so all of the students had gathered at the stadium to watch the showdown.

In the rain the bystanders could only make out the players by what color of robes they were wearing. Even Colin Creevey, who had taken over for Lee Jordan as the announcer, was having trouble today, which was saying something since he usually had trouble anyway, but today he was definitely at his worst. The game was pretty much a stalemate between the two teams, Gryffindor trailing by a single goal.

"And it's Caroline Attwater with the Quaffle, and she's heading toward the goal, look out," Colin cried, clasping his hands over his eyes as a bludger headed straight for the sixth year chaser. He was possibly the worst announcer that Hogwarts had ever seen, but he was best of the few people who applied for the job.

This time, however, Colin didn't have to not worry about Caroline.

She dodged the ball. "Heads up Gin," she said, passing the ball to her fellow chaser, Ginny Weasley. Ginny had only flown a few feet when she heard the collective gasp from the stands ... that could mean only one thing, that Harry was going for the snitch. Thank God she thought to herself, finally this game was almost over. The moment that she had stopped, the Slytherin beaters had wasted no time in hitting both bludgers her way.

"Ginny, look out," Leah Daniels shouted at the youngest Weasley. Ginny looked just in time to dodge, however she could not dodge and hold on to the Quaffle at the same time, so she was forced to drop the ball. There was no time for either Leah or Cara to retrieve the ball, because Harry Potter had caught the Golden Snitch, and the game was over.

Colin was shouting Gryffindor's victory to the stands, while both teams landed on the pitch. The teams shook hands to show they had some sportsmanship in them, or because if they didn't, then Madame Hooch would have their hides, and then took off for the locker rooms.

"Ginny, who would be the worst person for you to marry?" Cara asked, magically drying her honey colored hair. This was part of Caroline's usual after quidditch game routine. The girl dreamed of a being a reporter and consequently interviewed her friends at each and every opportunity. This was the usual topic after a Quidditch game; who would you want, not want, or could only dream of marrying when you grew up.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she pulled her sweater over her head. "Easy, Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret," she finished smiling.

"Interesting answer, I believe it's changed since the last time you answered the question," Leah commented, shouldering her bag while waiting for the other two to finish up so they could leave for the castle.

"So, why Draco?" Cara continued, which was unusual for her since the questions typically stopped with 'who is it'. Cara and Ginny finished stuffing their quidditch robes into their bags and followed Leah out of the room.

"I dunno," Ginny shrugged. "Could be the fact that he's evil, heartless, and many believe that he is also soulless," Ginny replied matter-of-factly.

"Coming from a weasel like you, I should be insulted," Draco smirked, coming out of the Slytherin locker room. He didn't wait for an answer, he moved past the little group, his two bodyguards, a.k.a. Crabe and Goyle, following him.

Ginny turned a very deep shade of red. One day she thought, he won't embarrass me like that. And that would only happen once he left school which, thank God, was this year.

"Come on, Gin," Leah said placing an arm protectively around her friend, "let's see what kind of a party they have waiting for us back in the common room."

* * * *

"Well, Ms. Weasley, you are quite the character aren't you?" Tyche mused to herself as she lay on the ground of her half-sister's cave, watching the river time. Clotho, her old half-sister, sat at her spinning wheel, taking the mists from the river and winding them into thread.

"Tyche, what are you doing?" the fate asked her. Clotho did not like looking after her sister, even if it was a necessity. She had work to do and so did her sisters who were on down the stream working on time. Each one of them had a certain task they performed. Lachesis would weave her thread into fabric and Atropos would cut the fabric. They were known to the mortal world as fates. Their half-sister, Tyche, was only a fate by association. The gods had given her power over luck, fortune, and mischief. So the girl was needed when weaving others' fate. The sisters rarely let her do anything, though, since the girl's last fiasco. She had been bored and decided to meddle in the lives of two peopl, Helen of Troy and Paris. The three fates had caused a war in order to put time back on track. Since that incident Tyche had not been allowed to weave time.

"I was just watching time fly by," Tyche replied, sitting up to look at her sister. She was pretty and the youngest of all the "real" fates, with her golden hair and wrinkle free skin. Unlike Lachesis or Atropos, Tyche was the middle of the sisters; her hair was beginning to grey and wrinkles had formed around her eyes. Atropos was what mortals would have called a hag, her hair was completely grey, and her skin was wrinkled.

"Well, make yourself useful; take these spools down to Lachesis."

"Alright," the girl replied, taking the spools her sister held out. She left the cave and continued down the river time. Images of life sometimes appeared in the mist of the river but Tyche had no time to gaze at the poor mortals. She reached Lachesis' cave and found the woman on her hands and knees reaching under her loom.

"Lachesis?"

"Ouch," Lachesis cried as she hit her head on the wooden beams. Crawling out from under the loom, she stood up, "Oh Tyche, it's just you, what are you doing here?"

"Clotho sent me with these," she replied, holding out the thread. Lachesis was her favorite sister, unlike Clotho, Lachesis seemed to genuinely like her. Atropos was always too busy even to care about her.

"Thank-you dear, would you mind crawling under the loom to retrieve my shuttle? I seemed to have dropped it?" the fate asked, taking the spools which Tyche offered. She walked over to a far wall of her cave where she kept all of the thread that Clotho sent her. There were many spools and the grey haired fate searched for a spot where she could place the new ones.

"Sure," Tyche answered dropping to her hands and knees to reach under the loom and retrieve the lost shuttle. Her sister was still busy looking for a place to put her thread so the young girl took the time to sit at the magnificent loom. She saw that Lachesis needed to add more thread to the pattern. There was only a small amount left to weave the pattern with. Without thinking twice Tyche reached out and broke the yarn, placing the tiny strand in her pocket.

"Lachesis, where are you in time?" the girl asked politely, still gazing at the fabric.

"Oh about thirteen years into the mortal future," the women replied, finally finding a place to put the spools. Tyche looked at the tapestry, it told of a family and her smile grew as she read on. It was the future for the girl she had watched at Clotho's. She was married to the very man she said would never marry. Tyche was suddenly struck by a mischievous idea.

"Lachesis, you're out of thread," she called helpfully, but her real meaning was to keep her busy so that she could sneak down the cave and change time.

Without waiting for the woman to return, Tyche rose from the loom and started into the darkness which led to Atropos' cave. The tapestry of time followed this path as well. In the darkness her only light was the slight glow of the cloth. Tyche walked on until she came to what was the present in mortal time. She bent down and finding the spot, she began to undo the fine rows of time and weave back into the pattern her own ideas.

"Oh thank-you dear." Lachesis returned to her loom to find the youngest fate gone and then she called out to her. When there was no answer she assumed that Tyche had gone back to Clotho. She shrugged and sat back down at her loom

* * * *

The party in Gryffindor had ended around midnight, and even then it was only due to the fact that Professor McGonagall had put her foot down, dictating that they should all have been in bed hours ago and sent them all to bed. Ginny pulled out her pajamas and while changing, Lavender walked into the room.

"Hey Ginny this is for you," the girl said laying the envelope on her bed.

"Thanks Lav," Ginny replied, securing her hair with a curls tie. The older girl departed leaving Ginny alone in the dormitory. Shoving back the covers, Ginny crawled into her small four poster bed and grabbed the letter. Its curling script swam before her eyes. Deciding to read whatever it was in the morning, she placed the letter on the night stand. She fell back against her pillows and fell asleep.

It was storming, a large bolt of lighting streaked across the sky followed by thunder, which woke Ginny Weasley from her slumber. Something didn't seem quite right. Her bed seemed to be softer, maybe it was just lack of sleep, but then she felt something on her abdomen. Ginny looked down to see a hand. More importantly ... that hand did not belong to her body. Craning her neck she looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of blond hair before the body and the hand attached to it rolled over.