" Hermione, you're really enjoying yourself like this..." Trillian said while massaging vigorously.
"Of course, winners deserve winners," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, a smile already playing on her lips.
After a ten-minute massage, Trillian stretched her sore fingers, returned to her seat, and, after gathering her thoughts, began to recount what she considered to be her most embarrassing moment.
"That was not long after I started in this line of work... Back then, I was young and impetuous. I took on a job where the target was to break into a wealthy man's villa vault and steal an antique pocket watch that was supposedly priceless. I spent three days scouting the location, knew the route by heart, and had a thorough understanding of the security system. I was confident that I had no chance of success."
"That night, I bypassed all the security guards, cracked the infrared alarm, and opened the vault door—it went incredibly smoothly."
"Then I saw the pocket watch, displayed right in the center of the shelf, bathed in beautiful lighting. I walked over, carefully picked it up, and was about to leave..."
At this point, Trillian paused for a moment:
"It turned out that there was an extremely thin, transparent fishing line attached to the bottom of that shabby display stand. When I took out my pocket watch, the fishing line snapped, triggering a pink glittering mechanism that I hadn't noticed when I was scouting the area."
"The entire vault was instantly engulfed in pink glitter, I was soaked from head to toe, and the alarm went off."
"Later, with my fluorescent pink hair and face covered in sequins, I was chased by more than a dozen security guards for three blocks."
"I managed to escape in the end, but that pink glitter powder... it was waterproof! It took me a week to scrub it all off! I didn't dare to see anyone for a whole week."
"Is this funny?" Draco asked Hermione.
"Not funny!"
"I was clearly talking about something embarrassing! Who asked you to judge whether it was funny or not? The point is, it's embarrassing, okay? What's with your expressions!" Trilli looked at the two of them speechlessly.
"That's true." Draco acknowledged, "It is indeed quite embarrassing. Fluorescent hair, being chased for three blocks, from that perspective, you did a great job."
Are you praising me or insulting me?
"Now that my wife's here, I'll honor my bet." Draco cracked his knuckles, a mischievous grin on his face, preparing to give Hermione a massage.
Hermione awkwardly turned around, her back to Draco. Draco chuckled and placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders.
At first, Hermione's body was a little tense, and she wasn't quite used to receiving such intimate services in front of Trillian.
But Draco's methods were indeed quite sophisticated.
With just the right amount of pressure, his fingers gently pressed along the lines of her shoulders and neck, while his thumb lightly circled the acupoints on the inside of her shoulder blades, gradually increasing the pressure with a soothing rhythm.
As Draco moved, Hermione was surprised to find that the soreness in her body was slowly dissipating, and a warm, tingling, relaxing sensation spread along her spine. This made her unconsciously slow her breathing, her shoulders slump down, and her neck tilt forward, giving Draco more space.
Noticing Hermione relax, Draco chuckled to himself. This was a basic massage he'd redeemed from the system; how could it not be effective?
After massaging the inside of her shoulders, Draco used his knuckles to gently press along both sides of her spine from top to bottom.
"Mmm..." The sound escaped from Hermione's tightly pursed lips.
After making the sound, Hermione's cheeks instantly turned bright red, and she covered her mouth with both hands, just in time to meet Trillian's wide-eyed stare.
"Wow—" Trillian exclaimed in surprise, "Young Master, your massage skills are amazing! Even Hermione exclaimed!"
Hermione's face flushed even more. She forced a serious expression, using a stern tone to mask her embarrassment. "I just happened to have a slightly sore shoulder, and he pressed on my pressure points! It's a normal physiological reaction!"
"It varies from person to person, maybe my wife especially likes my massages," Draco added smugly.
"Young Master, could you give me a massage later? My shoulders are so sore!" Trillian said with a hint of expectation in her eyes.
"No!" Hermione blurted out, forgetting her earlier embarrassment, she emphasized righteously, "You're both losers, this doesn't fit the rules of punishment!"
"Wow, you're so possessive! You even want to monopolize a massage?" Trillian couldn't help but complain.
Hermione blushed even more after Trillian had hit the nail on the head, but she remained firm. "Rules are rules!"
"Alright~ I know someone wants to enjoy the young master's favoritism."
Hermione didn't respond in rebuttal; the corners of her mouth subtly turned up, her expression already acknowledging that this favoritism belonged solely to her.
After the massage, it was time to share embarrassing stories.
Draco returned to his original position, and Hermione and Trillian both looked at him, one with curiosity and the other wanting to see a good show.
"Hmm..." Draco cleared his throat, "It was probably a few years ago. I just ran into my wife in Diagon Alley, and for a while, I kept having dreams about her..."
Hearing this, Hermione still didn't realize the seriousness of the problem; she just thought he was about to make up some outrageous story again.
Draco continued, "In the dream, there was a very tall tower, and at the top of the tower was a room filled with roses."
"The room contained a crystal bed, and lying on it lay a Sleeping Beauty princess. The princess's hair was brown..."
"Stop!" Trillian interrupted, "No need for description, I know, this princess template is just copied from Hermione, right?"
Upon hearing this, Hermione's relaxed expression froze, and a faint blush crept across her face.
Draco smiled and continued recounting the dream:
"It is said that Sleeping Beauty has become a vegetable for some unknown reason. The king was so worried that his hair turned white, and he posted a notice saying, 'Whoever can revive the princess will marry her to me.'"
"It sounds a bit cliché, fairy tales all follow this formula," Trillian commented. "But I'm quite curious, young master, how did you manage to rehabilitate the vegetative princess?"
"Don't interrupt." Draco glanced at her.
"Okay, okay, you can continue, I won't say anything." With that, Trillian made a zipping motion near her mouth.
"When I saw her, I thought, 'Wow, the princess is so beautiful and charming, of course I have to give it a try. What if it works out? That would be like getting a wife for free, a sure-fire deal.'"
Hermione pretended to tidy up the cards on the table, which weren't actually messy.
"So I stepped forward and, using my superb massage skills, carefully massaged the princess from head to toe."
"When it was about ninety percent complete—" Draco paused deliberately at this point.
"I heard the princess let out a very soft moan. It was so quiet, but I heard it clearly. I just didn't know if it was from pleasure or..."