As soon as they returned to the villa, Hermione eagerly broke free from Draco's hand and ran inside. Reaching the door, she called out, "Mom, we're back!"
Mrs. Granger, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen, scolding, "You child, you're back already! Why are you shouting like that, as if you're afraid your mother won't hear you...?"
Before she could finish speaking, her gaze fell on Hermione, her words abruptly stopped, her eyes widened, and she almost dropped the heat-resistant gloves in her hand.
She stared at Hermione in amazement, speechless for a long time.
Hermione felt a little embarrassed by her mother's gaze, raised her hand to scratch her cheek, but couldn't help but smile. She then turned around slightly to let her mother see her new hairstyle:
"Mom, it's me."
Mrs. Granger snapped out of her daze, pretending not to recognize her, and looked her up and down:
"Who are you? Our Hermione isn't that pretty. Our Hermione is a bookworm with messy hair, always buried in her books."
Hermione blushed instantly, rushed over and took her mother's arm, gently shaking it, and said sweetly, "Mom! It's me, Hermione. I just got a new haircut."
"Just a new haircut?" Mrs. Granger pinched her cheek.
"This isn't just a haircut, it's like she's a completely different person! She looks so beautiful, my darling daughter has grown up."
Just then, Draco walked in carrying Crookshanks ' cage. "Auntie!"
Mrs. Granger turned to him and greeted him:
" Draco's here! Come in and have a seat. I just baked some cookies; have a taste."
Draco smiled and sat down on the sofa in the living room, placing Crookshanks on the rug beside him.
Hermione grabbed Mrs. Granger's arm and started chattering away in her ear.
"Mom, you have no idea! After I got my hair done and went out, everyone on Hogsmeade Street stared at me! I got an absurd number of double-takes!"
Hermione said, raising her hand to brush some curls from her shoulder, "Several witches surrounded me asking who did my hair, and they all praised my skills."
Mrs. Granger smiled and nodded, gently stroking her hair. "It's truly excellent, very exquisite, and it suits you perfectly."
Hermione's eyes lit up, and she deliberately kept her mother in suspense, shaking her hand and grinning broadly.
"Mom, guess who did this hair job? Was it the head stylist at the salon? Or some famous magical stylist?"
As she spoke, she secretly glanced at Draco sitting on the sofa, a hint of smugness in her eyes.
Draco sat to the side, watching her adorable expression, a smile involuntarily playing on his lips. He picked up his water glass, took a small sip, and quietly waited for her to "reveal the mystery."
Mrs. Granger's curiosity about her daughter was piqued, and she smiled as she gently tapped Hermione's forehead.
His gaze lingered on her hair for a moment, then he said, feigning thought, "Let me guess... it must be the most famous stylist at Hogwarts, right?"
Hermione immediately covered her mouth and chuckled, shaking her head like a little rattle. "No, no~ Guess again!"
"That's... the head barber from that century-old shop in Diagon Alley?" Mrs. Granger continued to guess.
"This craftsmanship is so exquisite, who but a top master could make something this beautiful?" she asked in disbelief.
Hermione laughed even harder, letting go of her mother's hand and turning to point at Draco, who was sitting leisurely on the sofa.
"No, Mom! It was him— Draco cut my hair!"
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Granger froze, looking at Draco in surprise. " Draco? You made this yourself?"
Draco put down his water glass. "It's just a little something I've learned. As long as Hermione likes it, that's all that matters."
Mrs. Granger walked over and examined Hermione's hairstyle again, from the layers and curls to the color, becoming more and more amazed and unable to help but praise it repeatedly:
"My God, that's amazing!"
" Draco, you're so incredibly talented! Not only are you academically gifted, but your styling is even better than the professionals! Hermione looks absolutely stunning today, like a completely different person!"
Hermione blushed slightly at her mother's praise, secretly glancing at Draco, feeling a sweet warmth in her heart. "Actually... it's just... so-so, barely passable."
Hermione did not want to embolden Draco's arrogance.
"Oh? Just now in Hogsmeade, who was it that looked in the mirror over and over again, refusing to let me change it back?" Draco retorted.
Hermione instantly covered her face in embarrassment and hid in a corner of the sofa.
This made Mrs. Granger laugh heartily.
Crookshanks in the corner, lazily raised its eyelids and continued to contentedly remain a quiet, spectator.
Mrs. Granger looked at Draco, increasingly pleased, and chuckled jokingly:
"With such a skill, even if she doesn't inherit the family business after graduation, she can open a hair salon and make a fortune, enough to support Hermione."
Draco immediately nodded in agreement. "Auntie is right, I'm sure I can take good care of Hermione."
"I don't need anyone to support me!" Hermione immediately retorted, blushing, and muttered under her breath, hands on her hips, "I can work and earn my own money, I don't need to rely on you."
Mrs. Granger was amused by her daughter's stubbornness and gently patted her hand.
"Alright, alright, our Hermione is independent and outstanding, but it's also a good thing that someone is willing to love and pamper you."
After saying that, she smiled, stood up, straightened her apron, and walked towards the kitchen. "You guys chat first, I'll go cook, lunch will be ready soon."
With only the two of them left in the living room, Draco took out parchment and a quill, and began to write something while sitting on the table.
Hermione leaned closer curiously.
His eyes widened at first glance; it wasn't a letter at all, but a thick stack of parchment covered in dense writing.
It comes with detailed hair sketches, magic potion recipes, and cutting technique notes.
It's practically a professional styling manual.
Hermione sat quietly beside her, chin in hand, occasionally pointing to a page and exclaiming softly in amazement.
"These wavy curls look amazing... this short hairstyle is so chic..."
As Draco wrote, he listened to her muttering to himself, a faint smile always on his lips. Occasionally, he would pause to explain his design ideas to her.
The aroma of food gradually filled the house, and the sound of the door opening came from the entrance.
Mr. Granger walked in carrying his briefcase and immediately noticed Crookshanks curled up on the carpet. "Whose cat is this?" he asked, puzzled. "What's this in the house?"
"Dad! It's mine!"
Hermione immediately ran over, opened the cage, bent down, picked up Crookshanks, and gently stroked its fur.
"It's all my fault. I was so busy talking that I almost forgot about you, little one."
Crookshanks was held in someone's arms, comfortably squinting his eyes, silently rolling his eyes in his mind:
You only remember me now?
Humans really have no conscience when it comes to love. If it weren't for the cookies, I would have run away from home long ago!
Mr. Granger smiled and put down his bag, his gaze casually shifting to Hermione, before he stopped abruptly.
The voice was familiar, the features were familiar, but the girl in front of him was nothing like the bookworm he remembered.
He stood there, stunned, looking Hermione up and down several times before hesitatingly asking, "... Who are you?"