young man returning home

Chapter 9 warm strings

Draco, buried in the pile of books, was as quiet as a child.This was the soft thought in Hermione's heart when she watched the long eyelashes of the opposite person cast a gently moving shadow under the dim light countless times.

For example, she would often ask the quiet Slytherin boy on the pile of books at this time: "I don't know what the hell we're doing? Why - developing 'this' potion?"

"You've asked this a million times. Nutria." He tapped her head lightly with his wand.In the lazy voice, there is an inadvertent pampering soft penetration.A short thump that poured into the girl's heart like honey.

Slytherin has long since ceased to be what it once was.Time is as great as a magician, waving his sickle-like arms with his teeth and claws, and after brushing them, the quicksand that slides over his fingertips piles up irreversible grand Huashang in the vague memory.The streamer can't catch up.

"Do you mind saying it again?" she asked.

"I mind very much," he chuckled, and suddenly did that habitual action again—the boy reached out and touched his short platinum-blond hair, and put on a casual smile, "Again, listen carefully, Slytherin didn't An earth-shattering conspiracy, of course, there must be an end that must be achieved by any means - you don't need to know this at the moment. You just need to remember that I will not make it difficult for you to do anything that violates the principles of Gryffindor. Medicine... This is due to a moment of inspiration. I suddenly discovered that black magic and potion can actually be used together—of course, maybe ordinary magic can also be used. For example, I simply used a petrification spell on you, With the use of this potion, it is impossible for Scarhead Potter to use 'Curse Standing' to undo the petrification curse on you, but must be combined with the same potion. Do you understand? Granger, don't underestimate such effects , it can save lives at critical moments. You should know that Malfoy never spends his time on things that are no longer useless."

"That is to say, it can make any simple spell very complicated, can't it? No one will know that the magic spell is actually mixed with the function of the potion."

"Very smart," he praised Miss Gryffindor Know-it-all without hesitation, "I need it, I need this potion urgently, because I suspect..." He stopped here, and the light gray eyes were bright. Mixed with a trace of hesitation.

Hermione naturally and keenly captured this change in Draco. She had guessed countless possibilities, but she had never been able to get close to the correct answer. The 19-year-old Hermione will never know that everything the boy has undertaken on his own is for her.for her.

The young man pretended to be relaxed, and changed his cynical look. He pointed to his head with his wand, and said with a playful smile, "Maybe you have a problem here. This potion is very suitable for treatment..."

A prophecy.

The 19-year-old Slytherin stubbornly used what he thought was the right way to maintain his young love, even if the cobweb-like memories were shattered into powder when he returned, the boy stood emaciated at the other end of time, smiling sadly.Maybe many years later, when she tells this cruel and poignant story to Mrs. Weasley in front of the burning fireplace, the dignified lady will smile and wipe away the hot tears from the corners of her eyes. She still smiles and says, how cruel it is. How much Hermione 19 years later missed the years spent with Slytherin in the Hogwarts library.

so young.Young enough to touch forbidden love without hesitation.Go, fall in love with a Slytherin.

Hermione gently closed the heavy black magic book, rubbed her forehead, and frowned: "These materials are not precious. The ancient black magic inheritance has long been taboo. Perhaps finding out-of-print books will be of great help to us."

"You want to get in touch with the ancient black magic that has been buried in the prehistoric time and has long been carved into wind?" He smiled again, "I have to doubt your intentions, Granger."

"Are you afraid?"

"I'm afraid you'll betray me, I'm afraid you'll use my exposure to black magic to deal with Slytherin," he suddenly changed the subject, and said, "It's so easy. The oldest and most precious magical materials in the wizarding world will never Tucked away in the library at Hogwarts. Remember, a pure-blood family has something to be proud of."

He swung his arm towards Hermione, gesturing for her to hook him. "We can Apparate."

"You can...apparate?"

"No." He answered simply, but suddenly smiled childishly, "I know nutria will."

Hermione hooked his arm carefully, and muttered softly, "How would a Mudblood know where the out-of-print Dark Arts books are kept? They can't even Apparate."

"That's right." Draco shook his arm, lowered his head and smiled slightly: "We have to find the house elf first——of course, if Miss Granger doesn't mind, maybe I can trust Malfoy's flying skills—we can fly Nimbus 2000."

Hermione nodded in agreement.Suddenly there was a rustling sound from behind the rattan-green curtains, and he snapped his fingers. The little elf Nuo stretched his waist, poking out a sharp head, with big eyes shining like sapphires rolling around.

"Nora?" Draco was clearly taken aback.

"Husband, madam let No, Nora follow the young master... No, Nora has always been here..." The elf was a little incoherent, and looked at Hermione timidly with big empty eyes: "G...Miss Granger..." It swallowed its saliva and stopped talking.

"She's always worried about me...Mom, she always thought I would do stupid things," Draco lowered his head, as if talking to himself, "Actually, I used to do a lot of things that worried her." He After a pause, he turned his head to the elf, "Please rest assured that Malfoy knows what he wants."

"Master, master...Madam is caring, caring about master..." The little elf was obedient, pacing back and forth on the window sill, slapping its head hard, showing a frustrated look.However, his feet almost missed the ground, and the little elf sat down on the window sill in some embarrassment.It rubbed its eyes and stretched out its thin arms to Draco: "Master, Nora can take you and Miss Granger back to the manor..."

Draco responded to Hermione's inquiring gaze, and grasped her hand familiarly: "...going to see Jessica by the way? That... stupid bird."

It turned out that Malfoy's fingertips also had temperature.

Thousands of out-of-print magic books are lined up neatly on the well-decorated rosewood bookshelf, and the gold-plated round characters stand on the dragon leather book cover. Every detail fits luxury and refinement, Malfoy-like nobility .Outside the huge arched French windows, pines and cypresses stand upright, and chirping birds sometimes jump up from the low bushes and rush towards the bright sunshine all over the sky.

A luxurious writing desk stands facing the sun.The quills and the dragon book are quietly placed on the spotless marble desk. In the languid sunlight, it seems that the life stretched deliberately is breathing heavily.

Malfoy owns loneliness and harmony in a high-profile and serious way.

Hermione was a little stunned, surprised at another strange and mysterious atmosphere in the magic world, which she had never come into contact with.Magic is compatible, but pure-blood nobles are like independent stick holders, waving in anger, struggling to maintain the world behind them.A traitor who betrays his bloodline cannot be redeemed for his sins.

Andromeda is a different kind, but Malfoy... Malfoy has embedded rebellion into the veins of fate since the day he met the Mudblood.He would too, get up and don't look back.Ren Manor has four seasons in rotation, changing frequently.In the end, with the last trace of sad pride of the pure-blood family, buried in the white snow, to share the dust and dirt.

"Here, so familiar." The little witch stretched out her hand and lightly touched the seal of the Dragon Book seal, and sighed deeply, "I seem to have been here a long, long time ago..." Most magic has a similar taste, and the little witch can master it. It's exactly the same.

Draco's bright eyes suddenly became stiff and cold like whiskey flames enchanted.The corner of the manor's future owner raised his mouth against his will, and said coldly, "Don't dream! Mudblood, this is Malfoy... the manor!"

Hermione froze for a moment, and moved her hands weakly from the beautifully packaged precious book collection, cautiously, like a child who had done something wrong, a little at a loss.

The scene was a little awkward.Hermione was obviously used to Draco's unintentional gentleness these days, so it turned out that his slight sarcasm was enough to make her heart fall into ice.

The pure-blood family has its own reasons to be proud... Draco said this sentence so naturally and plainly, maybe the boy will never know that the little witch cares so much, and even fears that he will involuntarily radiate blood when he says this sentence. Out of pride and calm.

After all, they have different fates.

He stretched out his hand, wanting to gently stroke her long brown hair from behind - to blame him for his momentary slip of the tongue.The slender and beautiful fingers were slightly opened, the family ring on the little finger was shining brightly, before his hand touched her hair, the girl suddenly turned her head alertly!

The four eyes are facing each other. ——Draco withdrew his hand resentfully, a Malfoy-like smile appeared on his pale face, he was clearly gentle and kind.The little witch lowered her head, her face blushing.Draco's pleasant voice sounded softly from the top of his head: "Malfoy is a bastard, isn't he?" He scratched his hair and said with a smile: "Malfoy begs forgiveness. Nutria."

It's a lazy and comfortable afternoon.sunny.All breathing creatures in the manor fell sweetly to sleep.The graceful lady of the pure-blood family stamps her manor with all the imprints that suit her habits. She loves to take a nap, and the gold-rimmed nightgown that reaches the floor is dragged in the lazy sunshine. At noon, she changed from the elegant Miss Black to the noble Mrs. Malfoy.

The owl fluttered restlessly among the treetops, and the piercing sound cut through the dull afternoon air.This made the elf snap his fingers angrily, wanting to put a spell on the stupid bird outside.

"—to see Jessica?" Mrs. Noble's son was holding the little girl's hand and asked her earnestly. "Let's be careful not to make any noise. Mom, Mom is taking a nap." He dragged Hermione's hand, and he made a path avoiding bookshelves, big and small, familiarly.The little witch obediently followed behind him, and there was a slight smile in her bright pupils.

That man was Malfoy.A dangerous Slytherin!Here, here is Malfoy Manor, and every oil painting on the wall will use their snorting expressions to utter a contemptuous monosyllabic word.She is, a Mudblood.A chasm that can never be bridged.She shouldn't be here.

Hermione stopped suddenly, and made an almost inaudible pleading voice: "Your mother...your mother will find me..."

"It's okay. My mother is taking a nap." Draco turned around to comfort her, obviously not aware of the little girl's delicate and sensitive mind. "Her bedroom is on the third floor, turn left to room No. 13, far away."

He smiled and dragged her around the fireplace on one side of the room and out the door.The moment he turned around, there was a sound of kicking, tapping, and cotton mopping on the stairs.

The fire in the fireplace lit up the little witch's face.

The author has something to say: catch a bug. .Dear friends, don't mind, a new chapter will be released tomorrow, happy reading!