Chapter One

From a small rosewood box played Christmas songs and the kitchen was warm with the sweet smell of a professional bakery fairly accommodating the flour counter-tops and icing on the taps. With the help of a little bit of magic, Hermione was able to make three dozen - slightly lopsided chocolate cakes. It would be good enough for Harry and Ron, she decided. No one was objecting to her helping out Mrs. Weasley with the Christmas pies tomorrow, no matter what the boys said about her cooking during the Horcrux hunt.

Hermione looked at the pile of gifts under her false tree that was lit with multicolored bulbs. The presents adorning Santa and snowmen wrapping paper spilled out into her living room in masses. Most of them were for the Weasley's and so the amount was justified.

"Hermione?"

Hermione wiped her hands on the front of her apron and opened the shutters to peek into the living room. She saw Ginny, her brilliant red hair streaked with drying mud, bits of it coming loose from her boots as she welcomed herself through the door with a handful of envelopes. Making a mental note to wash her floor (again), Hermione turned and finished the red icing on the last cupcake. Only a dozen more to go, and the next would be done in yellow. She would try for gold, but in her defense it was her first time baking with magic. It wasn't quite as easy as Mrs. Weasley made it look.

"How was practice?"

Ginny groaned as she sat at the window. "The good news is that we're going to slaughter Haileybury Hammers. The bad news it that if Maggie keeps throwing fouls then I have give her the cut." She slapped the stack of envelopes on the sill, her nose in the air sniffing the air. "Hand me one."

"These are for Harry and Ron's party."

"No one baked me anything because I got on Holyhead Harpies. Why do they get something because they passed their Auror exams?"

"Because everyone knew you'd make it on the team," Hermione joked.

After the war there was no doubt that Harry and Ron would pass their exams and the training they had to go through. The Minister of Magic Kingsley insisted that they need not to prove themselves after what they had done in defeating Voldemort. However, Hermione pressed that they should not take the easy way out. It caused much argument from Ron, but he still took her strongly worded advice.

"I'm still owed a cupcake," Ginny said fairly.

Hermione paid her no mind and pretended not to see as she leaned over to swipe one. She flipped through bills, adverts and letters from her parents until one caught her eye. There was not an address or a stamp, but on the front was her name in her handwriting. Bumps raised over her skin as a cold washed down her spine.

"Ginny, did you get all these out of the post box?

"'Course."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, opening it carefully and taking out a yellowed parchment. It was in her handwriting, but she didn't remember writing it. Why couldn't she remember writing it? She took out her wand, laying the letter on the table and performed every spell she could think of, but it did not hold dark magic. It was a normal letter.

Ginny swallowed, her mouth outlined in yellow. "Who's it from?"

"Me."

To My Future Self,

My name is Hermione Jean Granger, my birthday is September 19, 1979. My wand is 10¾" vine wood, with a dragon heart-string core. My friendship with Harry and Ron began in the girl's lavatory as they battled a troll on my behalf. My parents are Patrick and Jean and I had chicken pox when I was two, and dad gave me a white teddy bear to make me feel better.

I know this is hard to believe, but this letter and its contents has been kept since the summer of 1996. You must see what there is to see and meet someone important at St. John Parks. Go to the Northern benches and there this letter will make sense.

Your Past

Inside there was a small vial filled with a smokey substance that she recognized instantly. It was memories.