A/N: Curse my luck, the dice rolled: Cedric Diggory + 19 years later...

But you know what? I'm glad they did, or I never would have come up with this. And I might actually continue it, having never played around with the Twilight fandom before!

No one had returned to the graveyard that had seen Voldemort reborn, not since a hasty cleanup of the desolate place by a team of aurors. That, in retrospect, had been a mistake. After the liberal amount of dark magic that had flooded the quaint little muggle graveyard; potions, blood and forbidden rituals and residual curses soaking the earth, unforeseen incidents were bound to happen.

It started a couple of years after the war with that terribly tacky statue of Death cosplaying as the reaper who wandered off down to the local pub for a pint. Thankfully, by then, more muggleborns were working in the Ministry and the cover up had been easy. No obliviations necessary.

"They're just shooting a movie. Yeah, mad makeup skills! Couldn't agree more, mate. Here, have another pint. It's on the house!"

To be fair, everyone thought it had been a prank, muggle-baiting at worse. In bad taste, sure, but pretty harmless in the end, so no inquiry had been opened.

The next incidents had been blamed solely on muggles. It was only fires and strange lights after all. The muggles blamed aliens all on their own and the Ministry of Magic was fine with that and ignored the subsequent reports. They were piling up somewhere in between the muggle-liaison office and the MLE department, year after year, gathering dust, towering higher and higher until one day, nineteen years after the end of the war, Unspeakable Hermione Granger stumbled on her way out from Harry's office, bumped into the dusty files and was buried under. Harry laughed, the ungrateful berk, so Hermione conjured bluebell-flame-birds to harass him for the rest of the day in retaliation.

"What the hell is all this?" she muttered as she started gathering the files.

She had intended to simply file them back where they belonged, but she became increasingly worried as she read the contents, and shrunk the lot to fit in her pocket so she could peruse everything down in her office.

One week later, Hermione was standing on the path leading to the graveyard Harry had told her about once, what seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago, she supposed, almost twenty years, and most everyone she knew had settled down with job and family. She sighed. She had her career at least, which is exactly why she was here.

Something was wrong with this graveyard. They should have sent an Unspeakable ages ago, and she had been flabbergasted when she discovered everyone had just swept these incidents under the carpet instead.

"Irresponsible fools," she muttered, trudging on with her wand held out.

Everything was quiet, mist clinging on to the branches of the trees lining the path and swirling around the headstones when she approached the graveyard. The site was old, falling to pieces as nature reclaimed its rights, but it was beautiful in a way.

She found the place Voldemort's resurrection ritual had taken place easily enough. The place reeked of dark magic, but it was concentrated in one perfect circular patch of darkened earth. As round as a cauldron, she supposed. Hermione tried everything she could think of to understand this anomaly, but had to give up after several hours of complete and utter failure.

She resolved to wait instead. With the amount of sightings that had been reported from here, something was bound to happen sooner or later. She conjured a sofa and took out a book in the meanwhile, glancing around every now and then, until she noticed mist gathering in an unnatural way over the anomaly. It took on the shape of a snowman, but seemed unable to hold its form. Hermione rolled her eyes. If she had come all the way out here because of a bothersome poltergeist stuck in between, she was going to exorcise the ectoplasm out of it. Poking her wand at the amassed mist, she infused it with a burst of magic, then looked on with mild annoyance as the shape did become more and more human.

"Finally," it muttered back.

Hermione recoiled, because despite the years, she knew that voice, she knew that face…

"Cedric?" she squeaked.

"Ah. Hermione. Should have known it would be you. Although I have to admit I am a bit disappointed in Harry." Cedric glanced around. "He's not here?"

Hermione shook her head. This… thing, whatever he really was, didn't make any sense. He looked like Cedric Diggory, a little older maybe, had his voice, but talked with a sardonic edge to it that hadn't been there before. She took a step back, passing through her mind everything she had read about demons and possessions.

"Wait!" Maybe-Cedric pleaded. "Don't go. I've been trying to get into contact with someone here for so long."

Trying to appeal to her curiosity and desire to help, as any smart demon would. She took another step back when the creature's hand shot out to stop her and suddenly, it was as if the world flipped upside down, like a pancake, and she landed on her arse in a very sunny but familiar graveyard. She glanced down at her arm where a very solid hand still held on, bruising her skin. Cedric let go, a horrified expression on his stupidly perfect face, babbling a string of apologies she couldn't make head nor tails of.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, used as she was to deal with idiots.

"What have you done?" she huffed.

"Pulled you back with me?"

"And where is this?"

"It's like home, only it's not?"

"And I suppose there isn't a way back?"

"Well…"

"Other than haunting an old graveyard."

Cedric shook his head.

"Not that I know of. But maybe you can find a way?"

Hermione snorted.

"I'm smart, I'm not a miracle-dispenser." She sighed. "Fine. I'll try. Not like I have a choice anyway. But can you tell me something?"

Cedric nodded eagerly, probably relieved she wasn't hexing his arse sideways.

"Why the hell are you sparkling?"

Cedric grinned in answer, his teeth a bit too sharp, his canines a bit too pointy.

"Oh, bugger," she muttered, cursing her luck.