Draco looked directly into her eyes and slowly uttered the person's name. "It's Harry!"
" Harry?!" Hermione's voice suddenly rose in surprise. She hurriedly covered her mouth and whispered, "Just because he's the ' The Boy Who Lived ' who defeated Voldemort?"
"That's right, but not entirely." Draco raised his hand and unleashed a soft silver light, the Muffliato Charm silently enveloping the two of them.
Cutting off external noise, Draco continued, "It's actually a Prophecy, saying that the one who can defeat Voldemort will be born at the end of July."
Hermione's breathing quickened. " Harry's birthday... is at the end of July?"
"Yes!" Draco nodded and chuckled.
"But that's not clear enough!" Hermione immediately frowned, her logical instincts kicking in instantly.
" The Wizarding World is so vast; Harry is certainly not the only child born at the end of July. How can you be sure it's him based on just this?"
"My girl is indeed clever," Draco praised, saying.
" The Prophecy also has a crucial constraint—one must be born into a family that has resisted Voldemort three times."
" Harry's parents, James and Lily, refused Voldemort's recruitment three times and even participated in the fight against Death Eaters on several occasions, which perfectly fits this requirement."
Hermione's brows slowly relaxed, and the confusion in her eyes gradually gave way to clarity.
She lowered her head and pondered for a moment, then looked up with a resolute gaze. She said:
"That explains everything! Professor Dumbledore wasn't just giving Quidditch a simple reminder; he wanted to personally train him so he could truly fight Voldemort, right?"
"That's right," Draco affirmed.
"So how come you're eligible for the tryouts now? Were you born at the end of July too?" Hermione suddenly turned her gaze and seized on the flaw in her statement, pressing for an answer.
" Miss Granger, this is..." Draco paused, then said with a mischievous grin, "Want to know my birthday?"
Hermione choked instantly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. Her gaze drifted to the fireplace beside her, and she stubbornly retorted, "Who wants to know! I clearly wanted to ask Quidditch..."
Draco feigned disappointment, lowering his eyes and sighing, "Okay, I'm sad. Even my girlfriend doesn't want to know my birthday. I've lost all interest in sharing it."
Hermione immediately became anxious upon hearing this. "... Who doesn't want to? Just say it, I'm listening."
Draco looked up at her, noticing her tense little face but unable to hide her eagerness, and teased her deliberately, "What if you don't want to talk anymore?"
Hermione gently shook Draco's hand, pleading softly, " Draco... stop it, tell me."
Seeing that he didn't move, Hermione, her face flushed, added, "I really want to know."
Draco was momentarily stunned by the sight of that soft, endearing appearance.
He had never seen Hermione like this before. Was it because of him that Hermione had changed?
She shed her usual serious and assertive demeanor, Draco just stared at her, completely smitten.
Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable under Draco, her cheeks burning red, and she quickly withdrew her hand to cover her face.
Her voice muffled by her palm, too embarrassed to be seen, she muttered with a hint of annoyance, "What are you looking at... Don't look! Fine, don't tell me then, I don't care!"
"Tell me, tell me, how can I not tell you?" Draco quickly reached out and pressed her down as she tried to get up, his tone filled with barely suppressed laughter.
"My birthday is June 5th, 1980." Draco said, gently stroking her flushed cheek, adding...
"As for Miss Granger, your birthday is September 19, 1979, isn't it? I remember it perfectly."
These words instantly made Hermione forget her embarrassment and anger. She lowered her hands from her face and asked in surprise, "How did you know? I never told you!"
Draco grinned smugly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing casually against her burning earlobe.
"How could I not know it's my wife's birthday?"
Seeing her cheeks flush even more, Draco deliberately leaned closer, saying with a sly expectation:
"So, Miss Granger, shouldn't you also keep my birthday firmly in mind?"
Hermione's eyelashes fluttered slightly as she avoided Draco's gaze. "Who... who's your wife?"
Unconsciously, the syllables "June 5, 1980" kept repeating in my mind.
Hermione nudged Draco's arm and said, "How come you're even younger than me? You're actually the little brother."
"Isn't it good for an older man to date a younger woman? Miss Granger should be secretly thrilled to have a young and handsome boyfriend like me," Draco said, grasping her fingers.
Hermione pretended to be angry and said, "Who's the old cow! You're the old cow!"
Draco coaxed her, "Yes, yes, it's my fault. Miss Granger isn't an old cow, she's a charming little calf."
"You're so unprofessional! What 'Little Cow'? It sounds awful." Hermione reached out and pinched Draco's waist again.
Draco quickly grabbed her hand, looking aggrieved, and said, "What should I call you? Baby? Sweetheart? Or just call me wife?"
Hermione's face instantly turned bright red, and she quickly reached out to cover Draco's mouth.
His eyes darted nervously left and right, like a thief caught in the act.
She lowered her voice and said to Draco, "Don't call her that! It's too mushy, it'll be embarrassing if someone hears us... Just call her Hermione, or Miss Granger, that's fine."
Draco chuckled softly through her palm, his breath tickling her hand.
Hermione quickly withdrew her hand.
Draco then added, " Miss Granger is too aloof, and Hermione is too ordinary; neither of them feels truly special."
She glared at Draco and said, "So what if it's ordinary? Don't be picky! Just don't call it anything weird."
Hermione quickly changed the subject, putting on a serious expression, and said, "I remember your birthday is June 5th, 1980. Now you should tell me, why were you the one who went to Quidditch tryouts to Seeker?"
Seeing her little scheme, Draco said, "I don't think you were really trying to remember my birthday; you've been thinking about this the whole time."
Hermione tilted her little face up, stiffened her neck, and waved her little fist in front of Draco's face, saying, "So what if it is? I remember your birthday! If you bring up anything else, your sister will beat you up, so tell me!"
Draco squeezed her soft little fist, stopped his antics, and said:
"That's because Harry hasn't had a chance to showcase his Quidditch talent yet."
Hermione was taken aback by my words, her little fist slipping from my palm as she frowned and asked, puzzled:
"How did Dumbledore Headmaster Dumbledore know that Harry had a talent for Quidditch?"
" Granger is so stupid. Is it because of love? They say love makes you stupid, and it seems to be true..." Draco said disdainfully.