She had meticulously planned every step, she had kept a close eye on Draco to prevent him from cheating, and Trillian was clearly a terrible teammate... yet in the end, she still lost? Lost to the team she had always thought was the least likely to turn the tide?
Seeing Hermione's bewildered expression, Draco laughed out loud, "Didn't expect that, did you, honey? You thought Trillian was protecting me, and you were on guard against me the whole time, but she managed to escape."
"Actually, I didn't expect it either." Trillian scratched the back of her head and chuckled sheepishly. "The young master's tactic was for me to desperately block you and create opportunities for him. I wasn't even thinking about winning. I didn't expect to win so easily."
As she spoke, she turned to Draco.
"Although I won in the end, I feel that I was still within your calculations, young master..."
Hermione also looked at Draco, her eyes filled with confusion.
"At least you have some self-awareness." Draco smiled faintly, then explained the strategic thinking behind their game to the two of them.
"That's a deception. Before the game, we said we'd protect me and let me go first, which was a deliberate misdirection to make Hermione focus all her attention on me and guard against me playing a card to finish the game."
"Your mindless card-playing and blocking throughout the game, seemingly supporting me, was actually creating chaos and disrupting her rhythm and mindset. The best time to steal the victory was when all her attention was focused on me and she completely ignored you."
"Young Master, you are truly amazing... Every step you've calculated is flawless," Trillian exclaimed after hearing this analysis.
However, she changed the subject, a sly smile appearing on her face, "To be honest, I actually prefer your massage, young master."
"Then next time you'll be the host, take the lead in a game, and if you win, you'll get a massage from me," Draco teased with a smile.
"No, no, no!" Trillian still had some self-awareness.
"If I were the landlord, I'd become a sitting duck. You and Hermione could each take me down, and I wouldn't even know how I died. Not only would I not get the reward, but I'd also be punished. That would be such a loss!"
After the jokes, Draco's expression turned serious, and he turned to Hermione, who was still in shock, and reminded her, "Honey, a bet's a bet. When are you planning to carry out the punishment?"
Hermione snapped out of her daze. Though frustrated, she remembered her word. She suppressed the slight annoyance in her eyes and replied, "Understood."
As she spoke, she came up behind Trillian, placed her hands on her shoulders, and began to knead them somewhat awkwardly. Trillian, mimicking Draco's tone, pointed and gestured.
"Ouch, Hermione, you're too rough! Be gentle... Yes, yes, right there... Hmm... A little more pressure... Left, left... Right too... Go down a bit..."
Hermione did as she was told, but her face grew increasingly dark. She, a witch, was being forced to massage this little thief, and being bossed around like a servant...
With her eyes closed, Trillian enjoyed this rare pampering, her smile almost reaching her ears. She couldn't help but think to herself: This win was absolutely worth it!
After giving Trillian a massage, Hermione shook her slightly sore wrists. Before she could even catch her breath, Trillian pointed at Draco and said with a grin, "The young master is still waiting."
Draco had a smug look on his face, as if he were waiting to be served. Hermione took a deep breath and switched places with Draco.
Hermione began to knead, but after massaging Trillian for ten minutes straight, her fingers and wrists were already a bit tired, so her strength was noticeably weaker, and her technique became somewhat unpredictable.
This prompted Draco to complain, "Honey, your massage is so perfunctory... Is this a massage or just a tickle? You were quite firm when you massaged Trillian, why are you cutting corners with me?"
These words ignited Hermione's temper. She was already a little tired, and hearing him say that made her even angrier.
Okay, you think it's too light?
The next second, she immediately started her retaliatory massage. A benevolent smile appeared on her face as she tightened her grip, her fingers like iron clamps, pinching the muscles on Draco's shoulders.
"Ugh--!!" Draco let out a muffled groan, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Wife, control the pressure..."
Hermione remained silent, only continuing to exert her strength with a cold smile.
This is hardly a massage; it's more like torture!
Filled with resentment, she pinched him relentlessly, targeting Draco's most sore acupoints and muscle knots.
"Honey, okay... okay! Go easy on me!" Draco winced as Hermione pinched him, trying to get her to ease up.
"Gently what? Didn't you complain that I'm not strong enough?" Hermione gritted her teeth, her movements becoming even more forceful.
She deliberately ground her thumb into his taut muscles, watching his shoulders tremble with pain.
Hermione felt a surge of vengeful pleasure.
Draco's expression swirled between pain and pleasure, while he uttered a series of unintelligible sounds.
He would sometimes gasp, sometimes exhale deeply, and occasionally let out a few suppressed groans.
"Here... yes, yes... right here... um... gently, gently... ouch!... okay, like this... don't stop..." Draco writhed on the ground, experiencing both pain and pleasure.
Trillian, standing to the side, couldn't help but cover her mouth and chuckle. It was the first time she had ever seen the young master display such a wide range of expressions.
Ten minutes later, Hermione finally let go, shook her aching and numb fingers, snorted, and stepped aside.
Draco, on the other hand, endured a long and arduous period of torture.
After a few seconds, Draco's fingers gathered a faint blue glow, which he then touched to Hermione's wrist from a distance.
The blue light flowed like water, spreading along her arm and bringing a comfortable warmth wherever it passed, as if countless tiny hands were gently kneading her aching muscles.
Hermione was startled. The warm current flowed from her fingertips all the way to her shoulders, sweeping away the soreness from massaging the two of them. She stretched her fingers and moved her wrists.
"How are you, honey? Are you feeling better?"
"It's alright..." Hermione instinctively wanted to nod, but she stopped herself abruptly, turned her face away, and said indifferently, "Who asked you to make the decision on your own? There was nothing wrong to begin with."
"Young Master, you're still so biased," Trillian said, rolling her eyes. "When I was massaging you, you didn't even cast a relief spell on me. My hands are sore too, don't you care?"
Draco chuckled, "It's different. Hermione just gave us both a massage, and I even asked her to apply more pressure, so she naturally expended much more energy than you. Casting a spell on her is reasonable compensation."