"Just explain yourself. When Hermione attacked you earlier, why didn't you say it was 'reasonable damage'?"
Hearing this, Hermione's face flushed. "I... I used the force he asked for..." Her voice trailed off.
"Honey... you really should learn massage. You almost dislocated my shoulder blade just now." Draco's tone carried a hint of resentment and sincere advice.
"I'm already being kind enough by giving you a massage! And you're still being picky? Don't be greedy!" Hermione retorted.
These words silenced Draco's teasing remarks.
Before the two could continue their tug-of-war, Trillian seized the opportunity and reminded them with a smile, "Alright, alright, the massage punishment is completely over! Now it's Hermione's turn to tell her embarrassing story!"
She also thoughtfully reminded everyone to stick to the rules Hermione had set, "Remember! No flirting, no involving other people, only talk about your own legitimate embarrassing moments!"
Hermione's composure froze instantly, a subtle sense of destiny welling up inside her. Now she finally understood what it meant for the boomerang to have hit her back. She sighed inwardly.
Hermione, feeling trapped under the gazes of Trillian and Draco, blushed slightly. After a moment of contemplation, she said, "Alright... I'll tell you one. It happened at Muggle school before I received my Hogwarts acceptance letter."
After organizing her thoughts, Hermione slowly began to speak, "I was about nine years old then, in fourth grade. There was a boy in my class named Michael, who was a typical troublemaker who loved to play pranks. One day during recess, when I wasn't looking, he hid my schoolbag on top of the lockers at the back of the classroom. I searched for a long time but couldn't find it, and I almost cried."
"And then?" Trillian asked curiously.
"I found it later. But I didn't tell the teacher, nor did I confront him. I decided to 'get back at' him in my own way." Hermione's expression became somewhat subtle.
"I spent a week observing his daily routine and figuring out his habit of staying in the classroom to clean after school every day. Then one day, I sneaked into the classroom early, replaced all his notebooks with blank new ones, and hid his old notebooks in a corner of the library."
The next day, he was severely criticized by the teacher for not handing in his homework. He was speechless and turned red with anger. I was behind him, secretly laughing my head off.
"Isn't that pretty impressive? You've successfully gotten revenge, so what's embarrassing about it?" Trillian asked, somewhat puzzled.
"The problem is... I got carried away." Hermione's expression became even more subtle, and her voice lowered a few decibels. "That day after school, I was walking home thinking about his embarrassing moment when I missed a step and tumbled down the steps. Many classmates saw me, and I ran home as fast as I could."
"Pfft—" Trillian laughed out loud, "That's pretty embarrassing, won't it be awkward going to school the next day?"
"Yeah!" Hermione sighed helplessly, rubbing her temples. "I didn't dare lift my head in class that day."
"And Michael found out too. He came over specifically to tease me, saying, ' Hermione, so you can wrestle too?'"
"That tone of his voice, I still want to punch him when I think about it."
"Tsk tsk," Trillian said, standing up for Hermione, "That Michael is so mean, rubbing salt into your wounds!"
"Yeah, that's right," Hermione nodded. "I don't know what got into him, he was always picking on me during that time, like watching me make a fool of myself was some kind of great pleasure."
"Is it possible that he actually likes you?" Trillian suggested. "When boys are in school, if they want to talk to a girl they like but don't know what to talk about, they'll use little tricks like 'pulling her braid' or 'lifting her skirt.'"
"Who knows?" Hermione said nonchalantly. "Anyway, I had freckles all over my face back then, I looked awful, who would like me..."
"It's faded now..." she muttered again.
"I don't know, so no one liked you back then?" Trillian asked, puzzled.
"Would you die if you didn't talk?" Hermione rolled her eyes at her.
"Just kidding. Anyway, nobody goes downhill forever—you're pampered by the young master now, aren't you? So many people envy that," Trillian said with a grin.
"... Who cares?"
Hermione remained as stubborn as ever.
"Don't want it? Then you can give it to me! I don't mind the young master's favor at all!" Trillian teased her.
"You're dreaming!" Hermione realized she'd overreacted as soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks flushed, and she quickly added, "..."
"What I mean is... there's no reason to transfer something like this. Besides, did you even ask for his opinion?"
"So, you mean, as long as the young master agrees, that's fine?" Trillian seized on the flaw in her words and pressed on with a grin.
"If he dares to agree, I'll..." Hermione blurted out, but before she could finish, she realized she had overreacted again, and her face burned.
He could only try to cover it up again. "... What I mean is, this kind of thing shouldn't be joked about. What transfer or not, it's not like it's an object."
Seeing Hermione's desperate attempts to make amends, Trillian covered her mouth and chuckled, but she stopped there and didn't tease Hermione any further.
"That's enough for this afternoon. Let's all rest. We'll shower and have dinner later, then change into our formal attire for the farewell ball tonight," Draco concluded.
"One more round! Just one last round!" Hermione was unwilling to give up. She had just lost and felt frustrated, and she wanted to turn the tables and make up for it.
"Honey," Draco whispered in her ear, "If you want a massage, when no one's around, I can give you VIP service, guaranteed to be ten times better than this afternoon's."
Hermione's ears instantly turned pink upon hearing this.
But Draco added, pinpointing Hermione's weakness perfectly. "If you want to hear my embarrassing stories, I can tell them to you alone before bed, and I guarantee they'll be even more explosive than the ones from this afternoon."
Hermione's ears turned bright red, the color even spreading to her cheeks, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. Her resentment was also overshadowed by the ambiguity.
"I'm not playing anymore," Hermione hurriedly pushed Draco away.
Having witnessed the entire exchange between the two, Trillian pouted, feigning grievance, and said, "You two treat me like an outsider, don't you?"
"Didn't I just whisper something to you? What, doesn't that whisper count?" Draco retorted with a smile.
Trillian was speechless. "Fine, fine, even Hermione can outwit the young master, let alone me."
"Then I'll go back and get ready for the dance. You two can keep your lovey-dovey time." Trillian smiled, got up, and left the suite.