A/N: Hey! Thanks to those who've reviewed!

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A LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN

By Rage

Chapter Two: Flashback

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Summer was nearly ending. Day by day the wind got colder and colder, and fall was slowly approaching. Draco Malfoy sat alone in the gloomy library, skimming through a dusty old book. His parents were out and he was the only one in the Manor aside from the house elves.

It was almost three in the afternoon and the young man was bored. He had already had his afternoon tea and he didn't feel like riding his Nimbus 2001 today. He considered spending the whole afternoon at Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, but his father forbid him to leave the house. Fearful of what the consequences might be if he didn't obey, he stayed put and followed his father.

There was absolutely nothing to do inside the Manor. Draco had read almost every single book in the library and he most certainly ate too much food already. If he wasn't careful, he would turn into a very fat bookworm.

So, Draco walked around the house, opening every single door. He went to the basement, the garden, the kitchen, the front yard, the master's bedroom, his bedroom, the bathroom, the library… and yet, he still was bored. "Stupid day," he muttered under his breath.

He was already on the very top floor and he was walking through the very last hall of the Manor. There were only three doors in the hall and Draco had walked inside the first two doors, meaning, one door was left.

"Well, here goes." Draco reached for the knob, turned it and opened the door slowly. A staircase going up was revealed and Draco squinted his eyes. It was dark and quite chilly inside and Draco took out his wand. "Lumos," he muttered, and instantly, the tip of his wand was lit.

Draco took a deep breath and climbed up the stairs. Why haven't I ever been in this room? He wondered, looking around. He finally reached the top of the stairs and he coughed.

"What the—" He looked around the small room. Old useless things and antiques were placed everywhere and everything was covered with a thick coat of dust. Tons of boxes were overflowing with stuff and Draco made a face. "So this is our attic," he said to himself, kneeling beside one of the boxes. He opened it and coughed once again. Once the dust was cleared, he leaned to get a closer look. "Wow…"

Inside the box were old clothes that looked like they were from the 18th century, some books, parchment, old antiques, and a lot of other things. Draco took out everything and snorted. "They're like from the theatre," he laughed.

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Hours passed and Draco opened each and every box. Finally, he had reached the very last one. He had noticed that it was the lightest and the smallest, and it was the only one tied with thick string. "What's this?" Draco picked it up and untied it. The string fell to the floor and Draco opened the package.

Inside were several letters. Draco took one and read it.

To my dearest Draco—Draco gasped. "What?" He read the greeting once again and saw his name written neatly on the parchment. He shook his head. "Just a coincidence, that's all."

He continued.

To my dearest Draco,

When was the last time since I've seen thee? Ah—yes. Just last night. I cannot believe that I miss thee already! Is that how much I love thee? Do thou lovest me too? Of course. I should not doubt my love.

When shall I meet thee? Tonight again? Let me know immediately.

I love you.

No name was written at the bottom. Draco blinked and reread the letter. A question was forming in his head. Was this letter meant for him? It felt very familiar…

"Master Draco?"

His thoughts were raided. He turned around and there stood one of their house elves. "What is it?" he asked, pocketing all the letters.

"Supper is ready, Master Draco."

"Oh." Draco nodded. "I'll be down there in a minute."

The house elf bowed and disappeared. Draco looked around for one last time and finally proceeded downstairs.

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"Hermione dear?"

Hermione looked up from her book and saw her mother standing in the doorway. "Yes, mum?" she said politely.

"I want to give you something." Her mother sat down beside her and smiled.

"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously.

The older woman reached for something in her pocket. It was a small box and she handed it to Hermione. "Open it," she said quietly.

Hermione nodded and opened it carefully. When she saw what was inside, she gasped. "Mother…" She was speechless.

It was a silver ring, with a sapphire stud. It was simply beautiful. "Why are you giving it to me?" she asked hoarsely, still amazed.

"It's a family heirloom, dear." Her mother explained, as Hermione put on the ring. "We give it to every girl in the family when they're sixteen."

"But I'm only fifteen."

"But you're turning sixteen in September, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded. She looked at the ring and smiled. "Thank you, mum."

Her mother smiled back and kissed her on the forehead. "Now, dinner will be ready in a few minutes, 'kay?"

Hermione nodded. Her mother smiled and finally left the room. When she was alone, Hermione sighed and stared at the ring. It was simple, beautiful, elegant… and…

Familiar?

She felt like she had seen this ring before and she somehow felt like it was already hers before. "Strange…" she thought. However, she brushed the thought away when her mother called her name.

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Author's Note: How'd you like it? Good? Bad?

Good, bad. Bad, good.

Rude, nice. Nice, rude.

All I ask is you review

Give me one, or maybe two

What matters to me is your review

And if you do, I will thank you.

I will appreciate it very much

Even if you're a British Dutch (?)

So review several times

And if you do, I'll give you dimes.

He he… hope you liked that poem! Hard to make, I must say…

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