"Because you've... grown up. People taller than you can see you just by looking down."
Draco bluntly stated that his eyes were fixed on something because he wouldn't be able to see it for the next second.
Sure enough, Hermione's face turned bright red instantly, and she clutched her chest. "Pervert! You always stare at places like this, don't you?!"
Draco, with an air of self-righteousness, reached out and gently pulled her closer to him, displaying a strong possessiveness:
"She'll be my wife sooner or later anyway, so it's fine for me to keep an eye on her, but it's absolutely unacceptable for others to see her!"
Hermione glared at him for several seconds, but in the end, she couldn't resist his tense yet domineering demeanor. She muttered "domineering devil" under her breath and obediently took her clothes back to the dressing room.
A few minutes later, she came out again.
She changed into a light blue, thin, round-neck, short-sleeved ice silk top; the cut was neat and fitted, giving her a clean and gentle look.
The skirt was still that white midi skirt, but it looked more demure and appealed to Draco even more.
Draco looked at her, his eyes lit up again, and he couldn't help but smile, finally nodding in satisfaction.
That's more like it.
Before Hermione could react, he leaned down slightly and quickly kissed her soft cheek.
Hermione froze for a moment, then raised her hand and pretended to wipe her cheek in disgust, her face burning red. She whispered a reproachful complaint:
"You're such a jerk..."
But while she complained, her face already wore an undisguised smile and smugness.
Draco looked at her adorable, contradictory expression and smiled as he took her hand.
"Let's go, if we dawdle any longer, our parents will get impatient."
The Mr. and Mrs. Granger wore gentle and comfortable Muggle casual suits, while Lucius and Narcissa wore understated yet sophisticated Britain -style formal wear.
The four people standing together are harmonious and eye-catching, and it's immediately clear that they are two close families.
Upon arriving in Paris, Draco winked at Hermione, and the two told their parents in unison that they wanted to explore the city on their own, deliberately leaving some alone time for their four elders.
The four adults exchanged a smile, having already seen through the two children's little scheme, but none of them called them out. They simply smiled and nodded, letting them disappear hand in hand around the street corner.
The Paris sun shone gently and brightly, and their sweet journey officially began.
The first thing Draco did was walk into a vintage camera shop and buy a small, exquisite film camera.
"I want to capture the most beautiful moments of my wife."
Hermione, clutching the camera, was speechless with sweetness.
They first had a picnic in the Champ de Mars. Hermione had just laid out the tablecloth when Draco quietly cast a Nonverbal Spell.
With a flick of the finger, the juice, macarons, and sandwiches in the food basket floated peacefully onto the tablecloth.
"You're using magic recklessly again!" Hermione's eyes lit up.
"Just for convenience," Draco said nonchalantly.
As she sat down, he cast a Breeze Charm, lightly blowing the stray hairs from her forehead behind her ears, keeping them cool and tidy.
Draco, holding the camera, crouched down to find the right angle, and snapped a soft click of the shutter.
In the photo, Hermione sits on the lawn with the Eiffel Tower behind her, sunlight falling on her hair, and she smiles brightly and cleanly.
Hermione leaned closer to look, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Not bad at all."
"Of course, they don't even look at who took the picture!"
He beckoned to a passing local photographer, handed him a few euros, and said it bluntly:
"Make our photos look good, and we'll pay you more."
The photographer shook his head. "Sorry, I have something to do, it's not convenient."
Draco remained unfazed, took out a few more euros, and quietly handed them over.
The photographer frowned and said sternly, "What kind of person do you take me for? I have principles."
Draco didn't speak, but quietly took out another stack of euros and gently placed it on top.
The photographer looked at the thickness, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, his previous composure vanishing instantly.
His attitude did a complete 180-degree turn; he immediately brought the camera up to his face, looking incredibly professional.
"... Please stand still! Don't worry! I'll make sure you two look even better in the photos than in your wedding photos!"
The photographer immediately became professional, directing the two to stand side by side and look at each other with smiles.
He quickly adjusted the angle, instructing the two to move closer, smile more naturally, and look at each other.
With a few clicks of the shutter, the final photo showed sunshine, grass, an iron tower, and young boys and girls—sweet like a still from a movie.
Draco was satisfied and handed over the full amount of money he had promised, without shortchanging the other party.
The photographer, holding the money, smiled so broadly his eyes narrowed into slits, bowing repeatedly. "Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir! I wish you and this young lady a long and happy marriage!"
Hermione blushed as she listened, while Draco smiled smugly and casually put his arm around her shoulder.
As they ascended the tower at dusk, Hermione instinctively clenched her fists, her fingers tightening, as soon as the elevator started to rise.
Draco glanced down at her, then subtly curled his fingers and uttered a silent Steadying Charm.
The elevator, which had been swaying slightly, instantly became as stable as if it were glued to the ground, without even the slightest bump.
Several tourists who were already a little nervous suddenly paused, looked at each other, and were full of doubt.
"Huh, why did it suddenly stop shaking?"
"It was shaking just now, is this elevator really that sturdy?"
Draco pretended not to hear, and naturally put his arm around Hermione's shoulder, whispering in her ear, "Don't be afraid, I'm here."
Upon reaching the top of the tower, the wind suddenly picked up, whipping people's hair into the air.
Hermione had just raised her hand to cover her bangs when she noticed the wind had suddenly become extremely gentle, only lightly brushing her cheeks.
A few passersby nearby, who were being buffeted by the wind, looked on in bewilderment. "Why is the wind only targeting us?"
"I'm getting so windy here, but it's like there's no wind at all over there?"
Draco smiled slightly and quietly cast a small Wind-Blocking Charm, enveloping Hermione in a gentle breeze.
As night fell, the entire Eiffel Tower suddenly lit up, flashing for five minutes precisely on the hour, with golden light raining down like a galaxy.
Hermione looked up, her eyes shining. While she was lost in thought, Draco flicked his finger very lightly.
A soft, shimmering Glimmer Charm fell into her hair, merging with the light of the Winky Tower, like a shower of stars.
A little girl next to me, who was taking pictures with her phone, suddenly exclaimed, "Wow! Look, why is that person's hair glowing? Is it a special effect?"
Her friend came over and looked, and was also confused. "I don't know, why isn't it showing up in my photos?"
Ignoring the astonishment of those around him, Draco steadily held up his camera, aimed it at Hermione's gentle and radiant smile, and gently pressed the shutter.
This photograph, taken under the starlight and the lights of the Eiffel Tower, was later carefully tucked into Hermione's most beloved diary. When opened, it reveals the gentle beauty of all of Paris.
In Place du Tertre, a street performer plays the guitar, Draco secretly uses Melodious Charm to make the music even more gentle and beautiful.
Hermione leaned on his shoulder listening to music, and he looked down and quickly snapped a picture of her quiet profile.