Hello, old friend.

Don't you remember me? Well, eight long years of staying in the attic and dust might explain things.

I am Pansy Malfoy, twenty five years old, wife of Draco Malfoy, and mother of Lucinda and Alexander.

So I've read through these pages rich with memories, and haven't shown them to my family ever since. I will know when the time is right; when the pieces of my past are ready to be exposed to others.

Eight years. Eight, long, fantastic years. How I long to return to that enchanted school that my children would be soon attending.

Draco has been a loyal, supportive husband. His sweetness from our teenage years has not faded a bit. Our Pureblood family has been well-balanced and we've been living in perfect harmony.

Lucinda, our six year old daughter, was the brains. Alexander, one year older, on the other hand, was the brawn. They both were attractive in physical appearance and learned from their mistakes. The perfect children – or at least they qualified for that title.

Lucinda had her fathers' hair and my eyes, as for Alexander had the opposite. We were blessed with our young and the fact that the family name would last for quite some time.

After finishing our seventh year, we've decided to settle things once and for all. Did I mention that Lucinda was betrothed to the son of Daphne Greengrass, Nicholas?

Or, maybe I should say Daphne Bletchley, for that would be correct.

It seems that Miles had seen through Daphne's rough edges and fallen into her sweet core; marrying her the day after school ended.

Millicent wasn't married yet, but she was dating the one and only Theodore at the moment. There was a series of Happily Ever Afters, indeed.

Now, Draco was now a loyal Death Eater and spent his day following the Dark Lord. I, in contrast, didn't have a current career and remained home, taking care of the children and our mansion.

But all has been said. Enough has been uncovered, and I am to leave this in the hands of my own daughter. I believe the last few pages should be in her use. As for now, I think my family should lay their eyes on the words I have preserved.

Until then,

Yours truly,

Pansy Malfoy

August

Mother had recommended this book to me. Thinking it was a story book, I've read every single word of my mothers' past experiences. She told me that it would be a good thing if I was to learn from them.

I am Lucinda, eleven years old, and I am on the Hogwarts Express. This was the start of a series of amazing school years, or so my parents had said. After that they started kissing. I don't like seeing my parents kissing.

Anyways, back to the present.

I sat alone in my compartment, not even bothering to ask anyone to join me. My brother already had friends here and was in Slytherin. My family was excited about this years' Sorting Ceremony. I promised myself, and my family, that I would be put in Slytherin no matter what. If that promise was broken, I didn't know what I would do.

But that wasn't my main problem. After finding out that Nicholas would be attending the school, I was disgusted.

Nicholas and I have known each other ever since we were nine. And such a prat he was! I didn't know if he got that from his mother or his father, but I'm leaning more towards Mrs. Bletchley.

Well, he was a Pureblood, just like me, so that toned down my complaining a bit. But still. I definitely wasn't for him, and he would never be a good husband like my father was to my mother.

LATER

So I am now in the Slytherin Common Room, yes, I was sorted into Slytherin. My brother and his friends were very proud. The happiness didn't last very long, because afterwards Nicholas sat next to me on the table.

Oh, and on the train – just right when I stopped writing, Nicholas had arrived and sat opposite of me. I asked him why he thought it was okay for him to sit here.

"Well, we're getting married, right? We should get know each other more."

Surprisingly I felt my cheeks turn red after he spoke, and apparently he noticed too.

"You're blushing."

For the rest of the ride I've been trying to throw insults at him, but I was never successful. He was far too good with comebacks and I found myself rather impressed.

I don't know what drove Mrs. Bletchley mad when my parents had agreed for me to be betrothed to him. There was a huge difference in loving someone and being in love with someone. Well, let's say I loved Nicholas – not because I was in love with him, because I had to.

He's been hanging around me too long, following me everywhere I went (the Girl's Bathroom was probably the only safety region for me). I don't have any real friends yet, but I do hang out with my brother and his friends. They're pretty nice, and I love my brother. He looks after me and thinks about my needs.

NEXT DAY

In-between classes I've noticed Nicholas following me. So I guess I would call him my friend, although this one girl in my Potions class teases me on how I'm dating him. Well, I would've thought people would think I was his girlfriend because I "loved" him.

Nicholas was snobby overall, but there were rare occasions when he was as sweet as can be. He helped me with my homework although I didn't need it, and I discovered myself coming up with incorrect answers on purpose just so he could correct them.

And he was good at flying. He wasn't in the House Team, but during flying lessons he topped the rest of the class; I'm sure he would be a great addition to the team. He even saved me from a terribly high fall once.

Oh, alright. So maybe I am in love with him. A little.

The end

(So that's it. I had a really fun time working on Reminiscences, and I hope you liked reading it. This isn't the end of the road for me, though - I will be writing more fics! Thank you so much for your time in reading, and I hope to hear from you soon!)

-Roanne