young man returning home

Chapter 8 Unexpected

A delicate long chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Occasionally, when the wind blows up, the crystal parts make crackling noises, dancing to the rhythmic rhythm like bells in the wind in the quiet and silent reading room.

Hermione looked up at the swaying shadows—there was an elf singing in the rhythm.She rubbed her forehead tiredly. There was a large stack of old and boring black magic books in front of her. The pages of the thread-bound book had been half-turned. The dense Latin letters were like tadpoles, filling her sleepy and red eyes. .

Draco sat across from him, pointed to the ceiling with his wand, and said in a calm tone without any fluctuation, "Can you make that thing stop making strange noises?"

"Silent and silent." Hermione cast a silent spell on the crystal chandelier, and the crisp sound of the crystal slamming like an elf singing disappeared immediately.Slytherins are born with an instinctive aversion to beautiful things.

It was a really weird night.Slytherin and Gryffindor friendship!They are like friends for many years, spending all day in the library looking up information and discussing various difficult problems face to face.It seemed unbelievable to others, like a sweet date where a young couple hid in the reading room to study hard in order to cope with the complicated magic exam.God knows they used to be incompatible!

The room was warm and silent.It was drizzling outside the window.The night at Hogwarts is very mild in the drizzle. The old house, beech forest, and all the beautiful things seem to be under a spell, standing in the drizzle with blurred halos.

There are raindrops constantly hitting the glass window, and pearl-like particles slide down gently against the transparent background, forming a soft and heavy vortex.Hermione looked sideways at the jumping notes on the glass window, and her heart jumped up and down accordingly. She suddenly felt that this tired but warm night was so beautiful.

"It's raining."

"It doesn't matter." He always saves characters like that, and it seems that it is too troublesome to say one more word.The boy buried his head in the thick black magic materials all night, as if there was an important matter waiting for him to complete.This made Hermione very puzzled.The little witch once asked him, why did they have to spend countless days and nights in the library to study the materials from beginning to end to make the potion he wanted?Draco replied, because he had to do something bigger than life.

Something bigger than life?In the concept of Slytherin, there are things worth giving up your life to do?Hermione sneered.

"Don't be surprised, Granger, one day you'll understand...what Malfoy is doing now." That's how he had answered her back then.

At this time, Hermione looked at Draco who was serious and serious, with complicated feelings.She didn't want to hold the large stack of papers sent by the owl many years later, thinking of the rainy nights when she and Draco buried their heads side by side, and the boy on the tower was alone, what kind of mood should it be.

They will pay homage to the green onion and greenness on the Gryffindor tower in front of the deep lake of Hogwarts with sleepless nights and heart-piercing pain.Who will remember the figure of the lonely boy on the tower?Only the Malfoy Manor, which is full of holly trees along the road, has been engraved in the memory of years of deep suffering.Slytherin was happy.

She coughed lightly, and said "thank you" to the young man in front of her with no distractions.Hermione carefully looked at Malfoy's chiseled handsome profile under the crystal chandelier, and waves of broken gold danced on his eyebrows.

The boy didn't even look up: "You're welcome, Granger.——what do you mean?"

"I know it's you—I always knew it," the little witch took a deep breath, "... Luna is missing, Ron is still lying on the hospital bed... there are countless wizards who were killed or injured in the Death Eater attack Counting, but only me, safe and sound, you saved me, right? - with your life... I was thrown out of the auditorium, and when I fell from a high altitude, there was a heavy pad under me to save me One life,—that's you, I know it's you."

"How do you know?" He said calmly.

"The smell on you."

"Oh?"

"You have a special fragrance on you. A...very old cold fragrance..."

"It is indeed very old. It should belong to my mother," the boy finally raised his head from the thick black magic book, "You know, I never use any spices..." He asked her with a smile, "Do you know Andromi?" Da?"

"A... hole?" The little witch was cautious.

Draco giggled like a child: "Indeed... it's a hole, a restless hole in the tapestry of the Black family," the young boy smiled brightly, and the image of a little witch was reflected in his beautiful light gray eyes like a deep lake .He breathed lightly: "Andromeda also uses this kind of incense,—you should know. The ladies of the Black family all prefer this kind of smell, which makes them more mysterious and noble."

Andromeda, the taboo of the pure-blood family, Tonks' brave and rebellious mother.Hermione knew her, of course, and had a good relationship with her.A gentle and elegant lady.For a forbidden love, she became the daughter who was removed from the Black family tree, and Black kept a secret of rebellion.How could Hermione at that time foresee the future of Muggles and pure-blood taboos in her body? Only the heavy snow in front of Andromeda's hut 19 years later accompanied the other protagonist of the story, who was alone all night.

The beautiful girls in the elegant gowns of the Black family are stunners.A coveted stunner in the world of pure-blood nobles.Bella was like this, Andromeda was like this, and so was his mother, the former third lady of the Black family, and now Mrs. Malfoy, who was dressed in noble clothes.When he mentioned his mother, his face was filled with eager happiness, and his eyes would inadvertently show an enviable jumping excitement—although it was fleeting.

Hermione didn't understand why the always proud Slytherin would be willing to tell her this, about his pureblood family, his, mother.Draco was a little incoherent: "She's a nice woman, you...you should probably meet her."

Hermione was taken aback by the suddenness of Malfoy, who was always cautious.The little witch quickly calmed down—Draco was so beautiful tonight.Without Slytherin's sharpness and indifference, without the proud and arrogant sarcasm, he is more like an ordinary and beautiful Muggle boy. When talking about his beloved mother, he has a touch of excitement and happiness that cannot be concealed.

The rain is getting heavier.Qingyu Xiaoxiao is brewing in the heaven and earth into a monstrous event that cannot be avoided.It's like their outrageous rebellion at the age of 19 when they knew they couldn't do anything but didn't look back.

Little Malfoy slowly raised his hand in the backlight in response to the unseen deep-seated longings that passed through the years. His little girl was sitting opposite him, with the shyness of a bewildered and hesitant little girl. looked at him with eyes,--or at the hand he held out to her.

The moment Malfoy's slender, slender fingers touched her long brown hair, the little witch flinched instinctively.He was also slightly taken aback, his fingers froze on the slightly shining light spot on the tip of his hair like a dragonfly splashing water.It was just that moment—a brief moment in the blink of an eye, and Draco's hands covered her long hair nimbly again, and gently pinned the falling strands behind her ears delicately.Hermione was shocked by this action, it was Draco!His gentle face, his gentle movements, like every scene in a silent film, kept reappearing in her pale memory.Frame by frame, strange but familiar.

Terribly familiar.

It was as if this action had been repeated countless times before, giving Malfoy an overly extravagant gentleness.Countless times.

He suddenly withdrew his hand, mechanically closed the thick black art research materials in front of him, and then slowly got up: "It's getting late. Girl, you should go back to Gryffindor's tower." His tall figure Standing in front of Hermione, a lonely black shadow in the soft light of the crystal chandelier.

The dark green curtains were torn up by the leaking wind.The rustling sound is like the empty sigh of a prison, hidden behind the strong wind.There, the low cry was deliberately suppressed timidly and cowardly.

"Who?!" The wand has been raised, and the core of the wand is facing the shadow cast by the dark green curtain!

He was always so alert and quick-witted, and before Hermione could react, potential enemies had nowhere to hide under the Avada Kedavra curse that Malfoy could blurt out at any time.Slytherins know no mercy.

"Master...it's No, No, Nora, it's Nora..." The little elf came out from behind the curtain tremblingly wiping his nose and tears, "Nora is bad! Nora is bad! It's all Nora's fault! Young master, it's raining heavily..." It kept patting its broad forehead, cowering in front of its master.

Hermione understood at once that it was the house-elf of the Malfoy family who was looking for a master to return home.Draco was always with her lately.

"Don't be afraid, it's an elf." He retracted his wand and looked back at her with concern.

"Ah! Miss Granger!" Nora the elf cried out in surprise when she saw Hermione, "Miss Granger is here too! Nora is so happy! Master..."

Hermione was a little surprised, she didn't seem to know this elf named Nora, but Nora seemed to know her very well.But after thinking about it, house elves often help in the kitchen at Hogwarts, and I have devoted a lot of energy to the activities of liberating house elves, so it is not surprising that elves know themselves unilaterally.

"Okay! Nora!" Draco interrupted it, glanced at the pattering rain outside the window, and murmured: "It's raining heavily..." He turned his head and asked the elf again: "Will you come here?" What are you doing here?"

"Bad Nora! Nora is bad!" It started to hit its head again and again, "Master, go back quickly... That stupid bald bird is standing in the rain and refuses to leave, it is waiting for the master to go back in the rain... ...Master?" The little elf looked at its master with begging eyes.

"Jessica?" he asked hastily.Suddenly, he glanced at Hermione with a complicated look.

"Yeah." The elf nodded fiercely, "Jessica's bald bird, the last feather is almost washed away by the heavy rain!" Nora's big empty eyes kept rolling down big tears, It looked at Hermione with begging eyes that were no different from Draco, begging her: "Miss Granger, go and see Jessica, will you?"

Hermione was very surprised, she didn't even figure out what Jessica was, but the elf begged her in such a deep and sincere tone.

Before she could respond, Draco interrupted the elf coldly: "Shut up! Nora!" Cold and decisive.There was a layer of hoarfrost in the light gray eyes.

"Jessica?" Hermione asked.She deliberately shrugged her shoulders, trying to ease the atmosphere, and said with a smile, "It's like a little girl's name."

The corners of Draco's lips curved slightly: "It's an owl I... used to raise, her name is Jessica."

"It's not a tasteful name." The little witch blinked mischievously.

Draco smiled meaningfully: "The person who chose this name was not a person of taste."

His smile is so pretty.Without Malfoy's acerbity, Black's nobility is written all over his face.He is so beautiful.

Her heart skipped a beat.

That was the beginning of the story that was not thrilling, although the process was earth-shattering.He gave her the heartbeat of a girl, gave her Malfoy, his only love.

Hermione didn't know how important the owl named Jessica would be in the subsequent episodes of the story. Nineteen years later, Mrs. Weasley's memory was obliterated by the flood of letters.

It is the messenger without complaint.

"The lush foliage of the honeysuckle in Malfoy Manor was drenched in a torrential rain that rang like pearls. Jessica lived in a cabin at the top of the holly tree. On mornings with owls, pancakes and sweet milk under crystal chandeliers on sandalwood On the long solid table, it looks like the morning of the busy Muggle world. I miss those days that are busy, full, and still reconciled with the dampness of the rainy season..." Wishing for beauty like a choir boy, He opened his lips and teeth, and every syllable was like poetry.

Draco finally got out of the ecstasy of the self-reported memory, and he fixed his eyes on the little witch's red face again: "Jessica is not used to being alone in the empty manor, I have to go back—it's raining so hard. Hermione—Hermione, maybe one day you'd like to come to Malfoy Manor and see that owl in the holly—"

Hermione watched his back blurred in the mist, and the boy came to the end of the rain.

The author has something to say: Dear, I am one of the few readers. I want to add an announcement. Xiaoxie is very busy recently. The update frequency of this article will basically be maintained at three times a week. There are still manuscripts, but I am afraid The follow-up does not continue, and I dare not update it daily for the time being.Dear friends, don't worry, keep chasing with peace of mind, I can continue the daily update after I finish the work at hand!And as long as it is my article, what I can guarantee is that I will never abandon the pit!Do not worry!