I own nothing which belongs to J.. The definition has come from new school dictionary 2nd edition Collins, Glasgow,2002,(pg567) check that referencing won't my research project teacher be happy.

I want to try to write something every day and seeing how my big fics I haven't done that I'll start small. I hope you enjoy.

Nostalgia- a feeling of affection for the past, and sadness that things have changed.

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It may not have been perfect, well it was far from perfect, but it was her life. As Harry Potter's best friend and a Muggle born she was in danger since she turned 11. In those times especially the last few years of school she was constantly running, trying to survive. She learnt about herself and magic and she found her true friends. You couldn't trust anyone then so the people who you did trust where valuable you didn't spread every little detail about yourself, you was protected.

Voldermort was killed and the world started healing. People tried to move on but they couldn't. Especially herself, she wondered if it was a terrible thing for her to miss the past, when the threat of being murdered was constantly there and a madman was trying to kill her best friend. She didn't miss that part, but she missed her friends, even if they are still alive today there is no time anymore, people are getting married, working, we don't huddle together to keep alive. Every moment then was precious even if it was horrible, like when Sirius died, but everything was important. She felt needed. The most important thing she does now is to give house elf's rights but they don't want them, they don't want to change. She wished everyday that she didn't have to change, that her world didn't change.

The happy moments where so numerous so alike now that they blurred together but the ones from then, stood out, they made her smile. The picture of her wedding, sites behind the one of the DA, which was one of her happiest times.

She was going to change this; she was once the brightest witch of their generation but now she's just another history figure, boring and old. Since her husband died her life was over, she wished she could go back and see him, be with him. Running after horcruxes and fighting with him. Drinking is her only refuge, when she's that drunk there is no past and no future and the present is soon forgotten if she can drink enough. Her old time turner hung loosely around her neck.

Time. That always changed. Constantly moving and running like she used to. The time turner still spun, rotating and rotating until the turns where years not hours. Maybe it was the alcohol, but her life was playing backwards, memories flashing before her eyes, Ron's death, her children, her job, graduation, her Hogwarts letter, birthdays and accidents. This hadn't happened before, she always drunk and always wore the time turner.

Everything slowed down and turned to black, indistinct noises floated around her, her sadness was lifted like a veil. Her muddy chocolate eyes open, her memories faded into long forgotten dreams, as a woman kissed her forehead. The past floated away and was replaced with a future, pictures of school, a boyfriend, marriage zoomed through her imagination, maybe change wasn't so bad, if there was no past to remind you.

"Let's call her Hermione."