Hermione's father cleared his throat, glanced towards the kitchen, then lowered his voice and looked at Draco:
"Um... Draco, right?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, Uncle."
"That wine you brought, I've never seen it before. It doesn't seem to be a local brand."
Draco lowered his voice and patiently explained, "This is China liquor; it's among the best-selling items over there."
Hermione, listening nearby, felt both helpless and amused. She gently kicked him and whispered reproachfully:
"You actually brought up the drinks..."
Hermione's father's eyes lit up slightly when he heard "the best wine in China ".
Looking at the solid and sophisticated packaging, it seemed more and more substantial, and even Draco's expression softened considerably, becoming much more pleasing to the eye.
Draco knew perfectly well what was going on.
A few bottles of Moutai are nothing; if they can make my future father-in-law happy, then it's all worth it.
Hermione's father whispered again, "I've heard that China wine is good, and I've bought some before, but the taste wasn't very good. Now that I think about it, I'm afraid I bought fake wine."
"You're not familiar with the brands there, so it's easy to buy the wrong ones," Draco said gently. "If you really like them, I'll bring you a few other brands next time."
Hermione's father was secretly pleased, thinking to himself: This kid is shrewd and knows how to handle things.
However, she maintained the composure of an elder and said calmly, "It's enough that you're here as a guest; bringing so much stuff is too much trouble."
"It's nothing I can do; I'm glad you're happy."
Hermione's father nodded in satisfaction and whispered instructions that were barely audible to the two of them:
"This wine... just don't let Hermione's mother see it. Just put it in a quiet corner, or if you really can't, put it in Hermione's room for now."
Hermione, who had heard everything clearly, blushed and glared at him in a low voice, both angry and amused:
"You two... you actually hid alcohol behind your mother's back!"
Draco coughed lightly and lowered his voice, "Uncle, it's not that it's impossible, it's just that you can't drink while working, it's easy to make mistakes. If Auntie gets angry, I'm afraid I'll get scolded too."
Hermione's dad puffed out his chest and patted it softly, "What are you afraid of? I'll back you up."
Draco looked at him calmly, a hint of obvious suspicion in his eyes.
He had some doubts about whether it was the family's imperial throne or the family's younger brother's throne.
After all, Hermione is like that... it must be partly hereditary...
Hermione's father felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze and asked again, "This wine... isn't cheap, is it?"
Draco blurted out, "My family runs this business. The costs aren't much, but the profit margin is huge."
Hermione gently tugged at his sleeve, whispering a reminder, "Don't tell everyone everything..."
Upon hearing that the cost was "low," Hermione's father breathed a sigh of relief and nodded repeatedly, "That's good, that's good."
For a moment, the atmosphere in the living room was both subtle and harmonious.
Hermione found it hilarious to see the two men, one old and one young, seemingly having reached some secret agreement.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
This person, even when trying to please her parents, manages to be so utterly irresistible.
A short while later, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen, Hermione's mother came out wiping her hands, greeting her with a smile, "Alright, alright, come wash your hands and eat!"
Draco did as he was told and sat down at the table.
Hermione's mother picked up a bowl to serve everyone rice, but he quickly stood up. "Auntie, I can do it myself."
Hermione's mother quickly stopped him. "You're a guest, how can you let yourself do it?"
Draco smiled and said calmly, "It's alright. At home, we always serve ourselves. My parents always say, 'Self-reliance leads to abundance.'"
"Self-reliance leads to abundance."
The Mr. and Mrs. Granger silently repeated it in unison, exchanged a glance, and nodded in agreement.
This child has a strong upbringing and doesn't have the spoiled air of a rich kid.
Thinking of this, Hermione's mother immediately turned to criticize her daughter. "Look at Hermione, the guests have come, and she doesn't even know to help serve the food."
Hermione smiled and said, "Mom, let's go with the flow. If the guests are willing, let's not stop them."
"You're such a smooth talker, just like your dad, always spouting a bunch of grand theories," Hermione's mother said with a smile.
Hermione and her father exchanged a glance and secretly chuckled.
After the meal was served, Hermione's father suddenly slapped his forehead, as if something was missing, and looked at his wife. "We have guests today, and the children are back..."
The meaning was already clear before the words were even finished.
Hermione's mother saw right through his little scheme. "Stop trying to be clever. Drink again tonight."
"Okay." Hermione's father readily agreed, his wish fulfilled.
"Look at you, so hopeless. You've tried to quit for so long, but you still can't break the habit."
"Take it slow, it's not like you can quit just like that," Hermione's dad said with a smile.
Hermione chimed in, "Mom is doing this for your own good."
Hermione's father reached out and gently shook her head. "I know, I know, you little adult, lecturing your father like this."
"Dad, my friend is still here," Hermione whispered a reminder.
"You know we have guests, huh? Don't you even give Dad any face?"
Hermione's mother watched helplessly as the father and daughter began their usual bickering, then turned and placed a slice of pizza on Draco's plate.
Upon seeing this, Hermione immediately muttered under her breath, "Mom, you're biased. Why don't you ever cut any for me?"
"You have hands and feet, do you expect me to feed you?"
"Doesn't this show the close relationship between mother and daughter?" Hermione muttered to herself.
He silently added to himself: Draco has hands and feet too, but they just cut them off for him.
"You're such a grown woman now." Hermione's mother ignored her.
"Don't listen to your mother," Hermione's father said, picking up a piece and handing it to Hermione. "In my eyes, our Hermione will always be a child."
"Thank you, Dad!" Hermione's eyes crinkled with a smile.
"Just keep spoiling her," Hermione's mother sighed.
"This isn't spoiling," Hermione's father said seriously, "This is pampering."
Hermione gave her mother a smug nod, but Hermione mother pretended not to notice.
Draco sat to the side, quietly watching the family's lively and harmonious scene, and sighed inwardly:
Hermione's family has such a wonderful atmosphere; no wonder they raised such an outstanding girl.
But when he looked at the food on the table, he felt a mix of amusement and exasperation.
Roasted potatoes, sandwiches, and pizzas—these are at most considered snacks in the Malfoy family, yet they're also considered main meals.
He silently complained to himself, " Britain food is really indescribable. Back home, this wouldn't even qualify as fast food."
He didn't say a word, just picked up the sandwich and ate it quietly, quickly and without being picky.
The meal was finished quickly.
After finishing his meal, Hermione's father sat down on the sofa and slowly sipped his tea.
Hermione's mother got up to clear the dishes, Draco immediately stood up as well. "Auntie, let me help you."
"No need, no need. There's no reason for guests to wash the dishes. Hermione can help me."
"Mom, I didn't agree." Hermione immediately shrank back.