Draco raised an eyebrow, amused by her expression, and replied, "Reading and handling things will pass."
Hermione immediately became interested upon hearing this, and leaned closer to patiently explain the uses of television.
Which channel broadcasts the news, which channel shows stories, when are there any good movies or TV shows, how to change the channel, and how to adjust the volume.
She spoke earnestly and enthusiastically, like a little teacher, afraid that he wouldn't understand.
Draco listened quietly, his gaze falling on her face, gentler than any scene on television.
Hermione's parents remained seated, Hermione father looking down as he slowly flipped through the newspaper, page by page.
Hermione's mother's knitting needles moved back and forth, the ball of yarn rolling quietly beside the sofa.
The two didn't interrupt or move closer, but simply listened to the two children talking softly.
As they were talking, Hermione casually picked up the remote and switched to a lighthearted comedy.
The lively atmosphere in the room made the atmosphere even more relaxed.
She moved closer to the edge of the sofa, making more room for Draco, and whispered, "See, this is more interesting than just sitting there reading."
Draco lowered his eyes and smiled, "You're the one who loves to hide away and read..."
Hermione was taken aback, her cheeks immediately burning. "Don't talk nonsense! I was studying, not just sitting around aimlessly!"
Hermione's father, who was sipping his tea, smiled when he heard Hermione's words.
Then he quickly composed himself, pretending to be engrossed in reading the newspaper, but his ears perked up even more.
Hermione's mother paused for a moment, knitting, then lowered her head and smiled.
Hermione became increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze, shrank further into the sofa, and pretended to be engrossed in watching TV.
Just as Draco was about to start a conversation, he suddenly noticed a tiny bit of yarn stuck to the end of her hair.
Without thinking, he reached out to pick it for her.
The moment their hands touched her hair, they both paused simultaneously.
The air seemed to have been paused.
Draco suddenly realized that Hermione's parents were still sitting right next to him!
His hand froze in mid-air, still clutching the loose thread in his hand.
Neither advancing nor retreating was an option, and my entire body tensed up instantly.
That gentleness from just now instantly turned into awkwardness.
Hermione froze on the sofa, too afraid to move.
The living room was quiet.
The TV was still on, but no one listened to a word it said.
Hermione's father's newspaper hovered in mid-air, his eyes downcast, pretending not to see anything, though the corners of his mouth began to twitch upwards again.
Hermione's mother paused in her knitting, then continued to smile with her eyes downcast, not exposing her mistake, treating herself as a mere decoration.
Draco coughed lightly, quickly withdrew his hand, and quietly tucked the small piece of yarn into his palm.
Then, with a serious expression, she looked away and, like Hermione, pretended to watch TV, sitting up even straighter than she would in class.
Hermione kept her head down, her heart pounding so hard she felt like it was going to jump out of her chest, not daring to even glance at her parents.
The two sat quietly, neither of them speaking.
I sat for a while longer, and the night grew deeper, the streetlights outside the window casting a gentle glow.
Hermione's father put down his newspaper, cleared his throat, and stood up, saying, "It's getting late, don't stay up too late."
Hermione's mother got up, put away the yarn, and smiled at Draco, saying:
"I cleaned the room during the day, and the sheets and blankets are all fresh. Hot water is always available, so please feel free to stay."
Draco quickly stood up and nodded to the two of them, "Thank you for your help, Uncle and Aunt."
Hermione stood up as well, stealing a glance at him before quickly looking down and whispering, "I... I'll show you the room?"
"Okay," Draco replied quickly.
The two walked towards the guest room one after the other, their backs neither too close nor too far apart.
Hermione's parents stood in the living room, watching their figures disappear at the end of the corridor, and smiled at each other.
After the two children walked into the hallway one after the other, only Hermione's parents remained in the living room.
The warm yellow light fell on the sofa, and the television was still playing softly.
Hermione's dad neatly folded the newspaper, placed it on the corner of the coffee table, and leaned back on the sofa, finally relaxing.
"The day turned out much better than I expected."
Hermione's mother was still fiddling with the yarn in her hands, the stitches fine and even.
"That's right. I was worried that the kids would get along awkwardly together, but I didn't expect... they get along quite well."
" Draco is a truly well-behaved boy." Hermione's father nodded, expressing his high regard for Draco. "He's tactful in his words and actions, and he's patient when teaching Hermione spells."
"She's smart and sensible." Hermione's mother smiled and looked up towards the corridor.
"Look at how he treats our Hermione, always giving in to her and spoiling her, never saying a harsh word to her."
" Hermione's temper is such that no one can usually out-argue her, but she's all soft and cuddly in front of him."
Mentioning his daughter, Hermione's father couldn't help but smile, "This girl is different today too."
"Normally at home, he's always reading, but today he's willing to quietly learn from others, and he even speaks up for them. Even his jealousy is childish."
"She's fallen for him," Hermione's mother said gently, revealing the truth. "Our girl is thoughtful and stubborn; it's not easy for her to find someone who's willing to treat her seriously."
Hermione's father was silent for a moment, then gave a soft "hmm," his voice deepening slightly.
"As long as he's genuinely good to Hermione, nothing else matters. Judging from what I've seen today, this kid... seems reliable!"
"I think so too." Hermione's mother put away the ball of yarn and got up to turn off the light.
"It's getting late, let the children get some rest! We'll just relax and watch over them."
The two exchanged a smile and said nothing more.
The living room lights were gently turned off, leaving only a small nightlight in the hallway.
The guest room was dimly lit, and the small tables and chairs were all kept clean and tidy, exuding a comforting warmth.
Hermione felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. She lightly scratched at the door frame with her fingers, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke softly:
"I... I'll sit with you for a while, I can't sleep anyway."
A hint of a smile immediately appeared in Draco's eyes, and he nodded slightly, saying, "Okay."
Hermione sat upright in the chair by the bed, and the two chatted casually, not about schoolwork or magic, but about everyday trivia.
As they talked, they ended up reminiscing about their childhood.
She said that when she was little, she always clung to her books and wouldn't let go, no matter how her parents tried to persuade her.
Draco rarely mentioned that the manor was always quiet, there was never such a lively dinner, and no family members would fight over fruit or bicker.
Hermione listened attentively and said, "Then you can come often in the future."
As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she had been too blunt, her cheeks instantly burning, and she hurriedly lowered her head.
Draco looked at her flushed profile and replied, "Okay."
After a moment of silence, he slowly began to speak, recounting his feelings throughout the day:
"Honestly, I've never seen anything like it. The house was bustling with activity, the aroma of food filled the air, people were talking, and the lights were warm..."
"There are no unnecessary rules, no tense atmosphere. Sitting down makes me feel comfortable, staying here makes me feel at ease. Your family's life is truly wonderful."
Hermione listened, slowly raising her head, a glimmer of light in her eyes.
She hadn't expected Draco to say something like that, and she was worried that he might look down on her...
I'm completely relieved now.
The night outside the window was quiet, but the lights were bright in the room upstairs. Two young people sat facing each other, chatting about this and that.