Rose Evans remembers her husband's grandfather. A wrinkled old man with large green eyes that seemed to sparkle. He had an odd name, Yarrow Evans, and always had a tall tale to tell her.

"You know my mother's parents were witches." He said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh?"

"Yes, yes, very powerful witches." Yarrow nodded sagely, "They say magic runs in the blood; magic remembers."

Rose laughed and that was the end of it.

Nearly fifteen years later, when she opens the door to a woman in long black robes and a pointed hat, she wonders if there wasn't something to those tall tales after all.

2

Albus Potter cannot remember where he last had his book. He was sure he set it right down next to him, on the table.

Down the hall, James Potter giggles.

3

The school looks much different now. Neville walks up the steps to the Great Hall and laughs as a new batch of students brush past him, oblivious. There are still holes; he can feel them, even if they are not visible. The school will never be what it was…but maybe that's a good thing.

4

Lavender Brown remembers what it's like to be beautiful. She knows what she would be doing right now, if she wasn't disgusted by her own reflection. She can almost feel the expensive silks, the music, the handsome man on her arm. She can almost hear the whispers of jealous girls and the catcalls from drunken boys.

Lavender Brown remembers what it's like to be beautiful. Sometimes she thinks it would be easier if she didn't.

5

"Do I know you?"

"No."

"Are you sure…you look familiar."

"I am sure."

"Did we go to school together? Hogwarts, class of 1998?"

"Yes."

"Then I know you?"

"No."