Draco emerged from the dressing room, dressed in a crisp, casual outfit; his platinum blonde hair was still slightly damp.
Hermione had already turned around, intending to walk towards the restaurant first, but as soon as she moved her foot, her wrist was gently pulled, and the next second she fell into a warm and firm embrace.
Draco naturally wrapped his arms around her waist, gently pulling her close and holding her firmly in his embrace.
"How are you? Do you smell good now?"
"Ugh!" The sudden hug made Hermione stiffen, a strange tingling sensation shooting up her spine, making her weak and unable to resist snuggling against Draco.
"What... what are you going to do now..." She buried herself in Draco's arms, her voice filled with a lingering fear and a hint of weakness from the sudden intimacy.
As she spoke, she subconsciously sniffed lightly, and the slightly strong perfume scent from before had indeed completely disappeared.
"I'm asking you a question," Draco said, clearly feeling the girl in his arms go limp and snuggle against him obediently. His smile deepened, and he unconsciously tightened his arms around her, supporting her steadily, afraid that her legs might give way and she would really slip down.
"Does it smell good or not?" he pressed again.
Hermione blushed even more at the close proximity of his breath, and could only shyly confess, "... It smells... good."
After saying that, she seemed to relax completely, her body went even softer, and her hands, which had been hanging in mid-air, gripped Draco's hem.
"Just a hug and you're already this weak?" Draco teased her with a smile, looking at her obedient and submissive appearance. His warm breath brushed against her sensitive earlobe.
"What's going on, Granger?"
The warm breath felt like a tiny electric current, Hermione shuddered again. She tried to turn her head away, but Draco held her tightly in his arms, leaving her nowhere to escape. She could only stubbornly argue:
"Isn't it because you suddenly scared me..."
Before she could finish speaking, her waist suddenly tightened. Before she could react, Draco bent down, slipped his arms under her knees, and with a little effort, lifted her up in his arms.
"Ah--!" Hermione gasped in surprise at being suddenly thrown into the air; she could only wrap her arms around Draco's neck.
Her fingers gripped Draco's collar tightly, and she pressed herself against him, afraid of falling. When she realized how intimate their position was, her face turned bright red.
"You, you, you..." Hermione stammered, struggling to get down. "Put me down! What kind of behavior is this! What if people in the hallway see us!"
Draco carried her, walking steadily towards the door, looking down at Hermione's blushing face.
"Don't you like it this way?" he asked deliberately.
Hermione's body stiffened abruptly at these words.
"I... I like it..." she said shyly but very honestly, but then quickly added, "But this is the outside corridor! Someone could come out at any time!"
"What's going on outside?" Draco, showing no sign of letting up. "And your legs are so weak you can't walk on your own."
"It's all because you scared me like that! Otherwise, why would my legs go weak!" Hermione was almost furious at being blamed.
"If I don't scare you, how can I succeed so easily?"
Draco grinned smugly.
"You... how could you be so mean..." Hermione accused.
"Bad?" Draco countered.
"So, do you like bad people or good people?"
I don't like anything!
"Really? But someone just said they liked it..."
"I just... I just can't be bothered to argue with you. If you keep acting like this, I'm really leaving."
"Alright, alright, I was being silly," Draco replied with a laugh. "I wanted to hug my Miss Granger, okay?"
"Keep your voice down!" Hermione said, afraid that others would hear.
"Okay, is that quiet enough?"
"Okay--is that quiet enough?" Draco deliberately leaned down, his warm breath gently brushing against her ear.
The scent brushed against her ear, and Hermione felt a shiver run through her body again. Her legs went weak, and she snuggled closer to him, whimpering:
"... You bad guy!"
As you walk down the ornate corridor leading to the main restaurant, you can see the restaurant lights and diners in the distance.
Upon catching a glimpse of that scene, Hermione panicked even more.
Being carried by him in an empty hallway was one thing, but being carried like that into a restaurant where there might be other customers, or even waiters, was simply... she couldn't even imagine the scene!
"Quick, put me down!" She struggled, gently patting Draco's shoulder, her voice urgent and pleading. "We're at the restaurant! If someone sees us, we're doomed! Hurry!"
"Why are you so shy all the time!" Even though he said that, Draco still did as he was told and gently put her down.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, Hermione felt her legs were still a little weak, but her sense of shame made her stand up straight immediately, and she even took a small step to the side to create some distance.
Then she hurriedly straightened her clothes and tidied her hair, afraid that someone would notice something was wrong.
"Let's go." Draco looked at her adorable appearance, suppressing a smile, and gentlemanly bent his arm slightly towards her.
Hermione glanced at him quickly, then looked in the direction of the restaurant, hesitated for a moment, and then took his arm.
Feeling the slight strength in his arms, Draco smiled and led her into the restaurant with a relaxed gait.
The restaurant was dimly lit by flickering candlelight, and the melodious sound of a violin filled the air as waiters moved about silently.
Sit down by the window.
The two could see the shimmering sea outside.
However, as the waiters lifted the lids of the plates one by one, Hermione couldn't help but blink as she looked at the exquisite dishes in front of her.
The long dining table was covered with a snow-white tablecloth and set with silver candlesticks, crystal glasses, and a set of exquisite porcelain.
However, in the center of each white porcelain plate, the food was pitifully sparse: two slices of fish as thin as cicada wings, three asparagus tips carefully arranged in the shape of flowers; a steak no bigger than a baby's fist, drizzled with black sauce, and garnished with carrots carved into roses—more than the meat itself...
"Such a grand display, yet the food is pitifully little; it's more like a performance of dining than a meal."
Hermione sat down, glanced at the table, picked up the knife, then put it down again, unable to resist offering a sharp, low-pitched critique.
"It's tradition, Miss Granger!" Draco sat down opposite him, gracefully laying out his napkin, adopting an air of superiority.
He then explained with a smile,
"The wealthy and aristocrats value style, atmosphere, and ritual, not simply... filling their stomachs."
"Style can't put food on the table," Hermione said pragmatically, picking up her fork and spearing the thin, translucent slice of fish.