She quickly reached out and pried Draco's hand away, her cheeks slightly flushed, and tried to remain calm as she explained:
"I wasn't spacing out; I was mentally processing what you said."
"Digestion?" Draco raised an eyebrow. "Then repeat what I just said about the key points of exertion."
He only meant to tease her, but He didn't expect Hermione to blurt out such a thing.
He repeated every single detail he had just mentioned without missing a single word.
Even the nuances of Draco's tone of voice were perfectly accurate.
Draco was momentarily surprised, then smiled, "Very good, you remember it well."
"However, digestion takes time. It won't do if your mind wanders off halfway through listening to something."
Hermione blushed slightly as he pointed out her secret, but she maintained a serious expression and nodded vigorously.
She dared not meet Draco's gaze again, and hurriedly grabbed a piece of fruit and stuffed it into her mouth to hide the uncontrollable pounding in her heart.
Seeing her so obedient and well-behaved, Draco stopped teasing her and simply picked up the book again, gently tapping a page:
"Let's continue. I'll explain the details of applying force again, but this time you're not allowed to peek at me."
Hermione looked up abruptly, her cheeks flushing even redder. She glared at him, both embarrassed and angry. "Who... who was peeking at you! I wasn't!"
Draco chuckled, no longer exposing her, and continued to explain the key points of the spell in a leisurely manner.
This time, Hermione listened attentively.
But when her gaze fell on his clean-cut profile, his drooping eyelashes, and the slight movement of his lips as he explained earnestly, her thoughts couldn't help but drift away.
Just as she was lost in thought, he suddenly touched her wrist lightly.
Hermione jumped in surprise, quickly regaining her composure. "W-what happened?"
"You're daydreaming again." Draco looked at her helplessly. She didn't let go immediately, but instead gently squeezed her wrist.
" Granger, if you keep going like this, I'm going to spank your hand."
Hermione hurriedly pulled her hand away, buried her face in her book, and said in a muffled voice, "No... I was listening carefully."
No sooner had she finished speaking than Hermione's mother's soft laughter came from outside the door, accompanied by a gentle reminder:
"You two shouldn't study for too long. Take a break, have some tea, and then it'll be time to prepare dinner."
The two froze simultaneously, then exchanged a glance, a blush creeping onto their faces.
--
Before we knew it, it was dinnertime.
The table was filled with the aroma of food. Hermione's father, unusually relaxed, opened a bottle of his treasured wine and poured himself a small glass.
Draco was very considerate and got up to pour Hermione's father a drink.
Hermione's father was finding him increasingly agreeable, and smiled as he clinked glasses with him, "Young man, drink less, just enough to show your appreciation."
"I know, Uncle." Draco nodded obediently, taking only a small sip.
The meal was halfway through, and the atmosphere was quite warm.
Hermione's mother glanced out the window; the night was already as dark as ink, and casually remarked:
"It's completely dark now, and the roads are difficult to walk on at night. Why don't you stay here tonight? There happens to be a spare room at home."
Draco paused slightly, then spoke with a hint of hesitation:
"This... isn't that inconvenient?"
Hermione immediately chimed in softly, "It's alright, the room is very clean, it's very convenient to stay one night."
Draco glanced at her, then at the gentle expressions of the two elders, before nodding slightly. "Then... I'll have to trouble you, Uncle and Aunt."
Hermione's father put down his glass and calmly gave her a word of advice:
"Staying here is no problem, but I need to tell your family first, so they don't worry."
Draco shook his head slightly upon hearing this. "No, Uncle, I've already... told my family I won't be going home tonight."
Hermione's mother smiled knowingly. "Oh, it seems you two had planned this all along."
Hermione blushed deeply, burying her head almost in her rice bowl, and muttered a protest in a low voice, "Mom... please don't talk nonsense..."
Draco, unusually, showed an embarrassed expression, coughed lightly to cover his awkwardness, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
Seeing this, Hermione's mother smiled and defused the situation, picking up the communal cutlery and placing a large, tender piece of pork rib into his bowl:
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you! Eat up, eat more, make yourself at home here, don't be shy."
The slight awkwardness at the dinner table instantly dissipated, transforming into a warm atmosphere of laughter throughout the room.
Hermione's father deliberately put on a stern face and chimed in, "You can stay, but there's one thing I need to make clear beforehand—you're not allowed to bully my daughter."
Draco sat up straight. "Uncle, don't worry, I absolutely won't."
Hermione quietly stuck her foot out from under the table and gently stepped on him.
Draco felt a slight pain on the instep, but dared not utter a sound, only glancing down at it.
The dishes were served one after another, filling the room with their aroma.
Hermione's mother's hands were constantly busy with the serving spoon and fork, adding a piece of tender fish to Hermione one moment and ladling soup for her husband the next.
But most of the good food ended up on Draco's plate without any problems.
Steamed pork ribs, soft and tender potatoes, and freshly cooked greens.
There were also Hermione's favorite roasted chicken wings. Hermione's mother kept piling several pieces onto Draco's plate, almost overflowing it, which was twice the amount on Hermione's plate.
Hermione rummaged through the food on her plate, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, her cheeks unconsciously puffing out.
She put down her fork and protested, feeling wronged, "Mom, I'm your biological daughter..."
There was a moment of silence at the table after he said that.
Immediately afterward, Hermione's father couldn't help but burst out laughing, even the wrinkles around his eyes appeared on his face.
Hermione's mother paused for a moment, her face lighting up with amusement at her daughter's stingy expression.
Draco's lips curled into a slight smile, and he chuckled softly.
Hermione blushed slightly when she saw her family laughing at her, but she still glared at her mother defiantly.
That little temper of his is so cute that you can't bear to tease him.
Hermione's mother smiled and placed the largest chicken wing on her plate.
"Knowing you're their biological child, how could they possibly neglect you?"
" Draco rarely comes all this way, what's wrong with eating more? Besides, he taught you so much today, shouldn't you eat more?"
Hermione, speechless, muttered under her breath, holding the plate, "But you can't treat people differently..."
Despite complaining, he obediently picked up a fork and started gnawing on a chicken wing.
The meal was finished in a lively and cheerful atmosphere.
After the dishes were cleared away, the kitchen light was turned off, leaving only a warm yellow ceiling light in the living room.
Draco and Hermione sat side by side on the sofa, with a lighthearted program playing on the television.
Hermione shrank back into the sofa and turned to chat with Draco.
As they were talking, Hermione suddenly remembered something and asked him, "Do you watch TV at home?"
Draco shook his head. "No, we don't keep those things at home."
Upon hearing this, Hermione's father, who was reading the newspaper next to her, raised his eyelids and paused in his reading.
Hermione's mother, who was knitting a sweater nearby, didn't stop knitting.
Hermione was taken aback, and asked incredulously, "No? Then what do you usually do at night?"
From childhood to adulthood, watching TV in the evenings was a daily routine for her; she never imagined that the entire house wouldn't even have a television.