This shot certainly made Jack laugh; it flew crookedly over the net and landed in a very shallow area of the court.
The worst part is that it's a half-height ball.
So, is this a penalty or not...?
Considering Hermione's inexperienced and earnest expression, Jack gentlemanly refrained from attempting the spike.
With a slightly stronger forehand, she slammed the ball into Hermione's open space, in her forehand corner.
Seeing that the opponent was letting her go, Hermione immediately started chasing. She understood the ball's trajectory and knew which corner to run to, but her starting speed and stride were too limited. By the time she reached the position,
The ball bounced twice after hitting the ground, and she could only manage a forehand scoop. The ball flew high back, but went out of bounds.
"15-0," Jack announced mildly.
This ball frustrated Hermione, especially since Jack had let her win, making her feel even more aggrieved.
No problem, Hermione is the kind of person who gets stronger with setbacks. She walked back to the baseline and prepared for her second serve.
The following match was practically a carbon copy of the first point.
Hermione's serves were consistently weak and lacked threat, while Jack's returns remained consistently friendly, mostly returning to her side with low speed and weak spin.
Even so, Hermione was struggling. Her mind was like a high-speed computer, constantly analyzing Jack's position, possible return routes, and the tactics she should use, but her body couldn't keep up with her brain's commands.
The difference in strength and explosiveness between men and women was also evident at this moment. Even without using Jack full strength, Jack's return shot had more weight than Hermione's, requiring Hermione to exert more force to hit the ball back.
After just a few rounds, she was panting, with fine beads of sweat on her forehead and nose, and her cheeks were flushed from the exercise and her anxiety.
But she just wouldn't admit defeat.
Each time she lost a point, she would purse her lips, her eyes becoming even more stubborn, before walking back to her seat to prepare for the next point.
They even tried some advanced tactics, such as seeing Jack positioned far back and wanting to drop a small ball. The idea was good, but the execution was terrible, and the ball didn't even clear the net.
30:0.
"40:0." Jack's score was steadily rising. He didn't have to work hard; he just steadily returned the ball to Hermione's court and waited for her to make a mistake so he could score.
Go Hermione!
"It's okay, take your time!"
"Good shot! That was a great shot!"
The others on the sidelines were cheering Hermione on.
It was mainly those ladies who noticed Hermione was fighting very hard but was indeed struggling, and they all kindly encouraged her.
Draco remained silent, simply sitting there, chin in hand, watching with great interest as Hermione's cheeks flushed and her breathing quickened, yet she stubbornly kept her eyes fixed on the ball, watching her clumsy yet skillful runs and swings.
This version of Hermione is much more vivid and adorable than the usual calm, rational, and all-knowing Miss Know-It-All.
Especially that kind of competitive spirit,
Draco's smile never faded.
Finally, the match ended after Hermione's net went wide again.
"Have fun, Hermione!" Jack smiled warmly, walked to the net, and extended his hand to praise her, "You played with great ideas, you'll definitely be amazing with more practice!"
"Thank you," Hermione said, panting as she walked to the net and shook hands with Jack, sweat dampening a few stray strands of hair on her forehead.
"You played better!" she reciprocated with a compliment. Although she lost, she tried her best to maintain a polite smile, but everyone could hear the resentment and frustration in her tone.
After exchanging compliments with Jack, Hermione walked back to the sidelines, where Draco stood up with water and a towel and went to greet her.
"You must be exhausted?" Draco smiled and handed her the water, then took out a towel and naturally wiped her sweat.
But Hermione dodged his hand, grabbed a towel and roughly wiped her face and neck, then tilted her head back and gulped down several mouthfuls of water, annoyed, "I know I didn't do well! I don't need you to remind me!"
"I didn't say you played badly. I thought you played with a lot of ideas and a lot of momentum." Draco couldn't help but laugh.
"Hmph!" Hermione said, "He's just stronger and faster than me! If I practiced more, I'd definitely..."
"You can definitely beat him?" Draco replied, his smile becoming even more pronounced.
These words left Hermione speechless. She had just experienced firsthand the gap between theory and practice, as well as the stark difference in physical abilities. But she would never admit defeat verbally. She said:
"At least we won't lose so badly!"
"Yes, yes, our Hermione is the best!"
"I just wasn't feeling well today. I wasn't familiar with the venue, the racket wasn't working right, the sunlight was too bright, and the sea breeze interfered with my judgment..."
Draco solemnly listed the objective reasons, until he saw Hermione about to glare at him again, then he changed the subject, "I'll 'teach' you properly later, and I guarantee you'll win, how about it?"
"I don't care! I already know how!" Hermione felt a little guilty saying that, but she couldn't lose in terms of momentum.
Those mistakes must have been due to insufficient warm-up, ill-fitting clothes, or the opponent being taller and stronger, which gave them an advantage...
In short, it's not a technical problem on her part!
"Oh--? Really?" Draco's lips curled up. "So our Miss Know-It-All has already figured it out on her own? Looks like all my 'personal guidance' earlier was unnecessary?"
"Now that you know how, you'd better watch carefully when I perform later." Draco picked up the racket, twirled it casually in his hand, and then walked towards the court.
"I'll watch carefully," Hermione said provocatively. "After all, I can't bear to miss seeing you get beaten up."
"You underestimate your husband like that?" Draco paused, turned around, and his expression was priceless.
"Who told you not to teach properly!" Hermione accused. "You knew it just now..." She didn't dare say that she knew how to take advantage.
Instead, she chose to gloss over the matter, but her blushing cheeks and evasive eyes said it all.
"You didn't teach me properly at all! Your explanations of the movements were unclear, and... and..." Hermione's cheeks burned even more as she recalled those "personal instructions," and her voice lowered.
But then she raised her hand defiantly, "Anyway, it's your fault for not teaching me properly! Otherwise, how could I have..." She trailed off again.
You can't just say you're naturally uncoordinated.
"Oh, I see." Draco pretended to think for a moment, "So it's because the coach didn't teach us properly!"
Although she felt a little guilty under their gaze, Hermione forced herself to nod vigorously to increase the credibility of her words.
"Alright," Draco said, "Since the students have some doubts about the coach's abilities... then I'll show you."
"Is it the coach who isn't teaching properly, or is it some smart student who isn't learning properly!" Draco turned his back to Hermione and towards the court, exuding the aura of a master of the court.