Chapter 57: Encounter with the Skateboard Girl
"Mr. Malfoy?" The voice sounded a little unfamiliar to Draco.
As far as I can remember, few people seem to have called him this way.
He turned around and saw a middle-aged woman in her thirties or forties with brown hair in a bun.
She was clearly not a wizard, but her Muggle clothes were not ugly, but elegant and simple.
"It's you. I was wondering if I had seen it wrong." Seeing him turn around, her eyes lit up and she walked towards him quickly, her heart-shaped face with a rosy complexion full of smiles.
"Mrs. Granger!" Draco said in surprise.
"Please, call me Monica. That's what my friends call me." Mrs. Granger winked at him cheerfully, showing her undisguised surprise at this chance encounter.
"Then please call me Draco." Draco was always good at returning the favor and climbing up the ladder.
"Okay, Draco. I haven't had a chance to thank you for the Fluffy Teeth mints you sent us for Christmas. We loved them. But, dear, how did you know we would like these?" She looked at him with a beaming smile.
Draco smiled. "I heard Hermione mention that." He didn't know if it was his imagination, but Mrs. Granger's expression looked even more agreeable.
Having said that, Draco couldn't help but glance behind her, "Where's Hermione? Is she here too?"
"Oh, of course she is. We took advantage of the holiday to come and visit my father. He settled in Bath after retirement - he has rheumatoid arthritis, and the climate and hot springs here are very good for his body..." Mrs. Granger waved her hand, motioning Draco to follow, chatting with him as they walked.
Although he didn't quite understand what "arthritis" was, Draco listened patiently, his eyes fixed on her face, smiling and nodding at her from time to time.
Draco could be a very good listener if he wanted to, a very polite little gentleman, that was undeniable.
Apparently, Mrs. Granger, like all middle-aged ladies in wizarding families, was very much attracted to Draco's style.
After a few steps, they walked back to the square he had just passed. This time, Draco's eyes did not miss the girl.
In the open space on one side of the square, the girl in the white sleeveless T-shirt was staggering on a skateboard.
He found out why he hadn't noticed her before. She didn't have her thick long hair loose today; instead, her hair was tied into a thick bun, swaying playfully in the air.
"There she is, see?" Mrs. Granger smiled at her daughter. "You've come just in time. She wanted to learn skateboarding today, but there was no one to play with her, so she had to do it on her own. I don't think she's made any friends here yet."
"It's okay, I'll keep her company," Draco replied involuntarily. He stared at the girl who was awkwardly studying the skateboard, and a subtle sense of satisfaction passed through his heart - this afternoon, at least, he could spend it without being so bored.
"Great, come play with me! I have to go get something to drink. It's so hot today." Mrs. Granger fanned herself with her hands and said cheerfully, "I'll bring you some chocolate ice cream later, okay?"
Draco smiled and nodded at her. And so, our Mrs. Granger happily walked away down the street, eager to find a genuine English pale ale to relieve her heat, leaving her stubborn daughter, who was struggling with her skateboard, to the "interesting" classmate from Hogwarts that she often mentioned.
After watching Mrs. Granger leave, Draco walked quietly towards the girl.
Hermione was practicing swinging on that unruly Muggle thing she called a skateboard. She raised her foot tentatively and shakily, but quickly put it down again, the board screeching horribly beneath her feet.
She frowned in dissatisfaction and tried again. It made no sense that others could play with it but she couldn't—just the broomstick alone was enough to bother her! Now, this thing that could slide on flat ground and that the kids next door could play with ease, she could at least conquer it, right?
She tried to control the skateboard with confidence, but unexpectedly, a small stone got stuck in the roller of the skateboard, which stopped the skateboard from moving forward and made her lose her balance and lean backward, and she was about to fly towards the steps behind her.
In a flash, before she could even scream, a pair of strong hands supported her steadily from behind.
"Are you trying to murder it?" The boy's teasing voice came from behind her, which made her fear level rise to another level.
This is incredible!
How could his voice appear here? Does he appear every time I'm in danger?
Hermione Granger, wake up, what are you thinking about! Are you hallucinating because of the sun?
She criticized herself in her heart and turned her head in confusion. Amidst her pounding heart, she found a pair of light gray eyes.
Draco? It really is him!
There was a small, embarrassed image of her in his smiling pupils. Hermione's mind went blank for a few seconds.
"Or do you want to murder yourself, in a Muggle way?" His thin lips moved, and they were a startling red that made his skin look even whiter.
"That wasn't my intention." Her face flushed. She didn't even bother to wonder why he was there. She struggled to jump off the skateboard, holding her head high with pride. "It was an accident."
Draco helped her down with a half-smile on his face, "When did our top student become a skateboarder? If you want to play a sport that allows you to fly, you might consider Quidditch."
"Draco, you're so annoying!" Hermione heard the mockery in his voice.
She felt a little embarrassed and annoyed at having to show him something she wasn't good at—and in such a shameful way.
She angrily picked up the disobedient skateboard, turned around and sat on the steps beside her, concentrating on studying the unsightly little stone stuck in the skateboard, and refused to pay any attention to him.
"Are you angry?" Draco sat down beside her with dignity and turned to look at her. Her face was red from the scorching sun, and a thin layer of sweat was beading on her forehead. The corners of her mouth were pursed in defiance, appearing very stubborn.
He suddenly felt the sweat on her head was a bit dazzling. Without thinking too much, his hand automatically lifted the duckbill hat on his head and put it on her head. Then, he looked her up and down and said seriously, "It suits you quite well."
Hermione said nothing, but the expression on her face softened considerably.
She finally successfully picked out the stone and was secretly proud of herself; at this moment, she noticed his actions. The duckbill hat cast a shadow on her face, making her look less embarrassed and more refreshed.
She pretended to examine the pebble carefully. She peered up from under her cap, peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He was sizing her up with a faint smile on his face. His platinum hair, perfectly exposed to the sunlight, shone brightly.
"I thought you were going to France for vacation, at least that's what you wrote to me," he said.
He was looking at her with those pale grey eyes—such a beautiful colour. She couldn't keep a straight face because of them, so she simply met his gaze openly, but still said nothing.
"Let me tell you something... You came to Bath to visit your grandfather." Draco said calmly.
"How did you know that?" She finally couldn't hold it in any longer and asked, "Aren't we going to learn divination next school year? You've already taught yourself?"
"Oh, actually, it was Monica who told me. She wanted to go out for a drink and said she would bring back ice cream." Draco glanced in the direction where Mrs. Granger disappeared, with some anticipation in his eyes.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh secretly - few people knew that the arrogant Draco Malfoy had no resistance to things like "sweets".
She wondered when her mother had asked him to change his name. She said, "The trip to France is next month. We're only here for three or five days. What brings you to Bath?"
"I'm here to visit my grandfather," Draco said frankly.
"He lives here too?" Hermione was surprised. She thought the Malfoys all lived in Wiltshire.
"He likes the hot springs here very much. He lives in a sanatorium for wizards." After Draco finished speaking, as expected, he received an interested look from Hermione.
"There's such a place in Bath?" Hermione asked with a curious look in her eyes.
"Of course, just like the Leaky Cauldron in London, they've put up a sleight of hand over the door. To Muggles, the entrance to the nursing home might just look like a broken wall or something." Draco shrugged.
Hermione fiddled with her skateboard and sighed, "I come to Bath every year to visit my grandfather, but I never thought magic would be so close to me."
"If you want, I can take you to see it next time. Let's not talk about this anymore, let's study your skateboard." Draco said. Seeing her tinkering with this Muggle thing, he couldn't help but feel a little eager to try it.
Hermione gave him a skeptical look and handed him the skateboard. Draco took it, examined it for a while, then suddenly put it on the ground, stepped on it, and tried to slide.
"Be careful, this isn't that easy." Hermione stood behind him, a hint of worry in her tone.
"Don't doubt a Malfoy's athletic ability." Draco looked back at her and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and smile.
Being in the strange Muggle world and experiencing strange Muggle sports made Draco feel inexplicably relaxed, as if the deadly dangers of the wizarding world were far away from him.
Although he still harbored concerns about the Dark Lord, as the Horcruxes were destroyed one after another and the responsibility was shared by Dumbledore, he revived some of the cheerfulness in his character, which was often awakened by Hermione Granger.
In his previous life, he would have found this incredible. But in this life, everything seemed to be changing.
He temporarily forgot about the irreversible potion formula and focused all his attention on this stupid skateboard. She always seemed to have some new way to divert his attention and save him from his boring thoughts.
Therefore, he never hesitated to smile at her, just like now.
The recipient of this smile feels a certain killing power. When a boy who hardly smiles starts smiling at you, and smiling beautifully, any girl will feel embarrassed.
Hermione was no exception. Blushing, she watched him master the basics of skateboarding without any instruction, and then watched him smile smugly as he taught her step by step. Suddenly, she was even a little confused about "which foot to put where."
When Mrs. Granger finished her ale and returned with her ice cream cone in both hands, she saw this scene: her once depressed daughter was wearing a duckbill hat upside down on her head, standing behind the boy like a tomboy, and the two of them were squeezed on a skateboard, trying to slide forward in the square.
The boy with platinum blond hair had a lively expression, completely different from the mature look he had just had. He just laughed and shouted, "Easy swing! Keep your feet still!"
Her daughter put one hand on the boy's shoulder, a happy smile on her face. She smiled at him in a slightly coquettish tone and shouted, "My feet are not moving!"
"You're moving! You're dancing on your skateboard like a clown!" The boy laughed even louder while trying to control the skateboard. He felt helpless towards the girl behind him who had no self-control. "Hold on to me—"
"I'm holding on to it!" Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder nervously, her other hand firmly grasping the clothes around his waist.
They seemed to have found some tricks, but not much, Monica thought.
She yelled at them, "I really hate to bother you, but this ice cream is starting to drip."
The skateboard stopped. He helped her down, held it for her, and walked side by side with her towards Mrs. Granger.
"Hermione, I have to apologize to you. I shouldn't have underestimated you just now. This skateboard is not as easy to control as it looks." Draco said with a glint of joy in his eyes.
"I'm glad you realized that." Her brown eyes were bright from the exercise. "Although, I have to admit, I had some fun."
The boys and girls were always very interested in a new thing, so they ate the huge chocolate ice cream cone that Mrs. Granger had brought and practiced for a while in the sunset.
Even the habitually arrogant young master of the Malfoy family had to admit that skateboarding was very much to his liking - you had to be very dexterous, patient, and courageous to skate well.
"First, don't be afraid of falling," he summarized to Hermione. "Second, be decisive and be decisive when you need to stop."
Hermione was full of confidence and promised him everything. But once she got on the skateboard, she completely forgot her promise and involuntarily hung on him like a sloth. She had never been a big fan of the idea of "falling" and was always reluctant to accept the possibility of falling.
"Do you remember what precautions I just mentioned?" he asked as he skated, his tone somewhat helpless.
"Yes! I am obeying it!" she cried.
Obey the devil! That's not the case at all. However, when the girl's soft body leaned on his back, it was difficult for him to harden his heart towards her.
So Draco could only take her on a skateboarding trip, satisfying his skateboarding addiction. When the skateboard got faster, the wind would hit them, filled with the scent of roses. This was the fragrance of flowers that could be smelled everywhere in the small town of Bath.
The direct sunlight and constant exercise gave their faces a pink hue, just like the sunset in Bath that day, charming and vibrant.
"My dear, Hermione is right, the boy has a very pretty smile." Mrs. Granger looked at them comfortably and said to her husband who came to pick them up.
Afterwards, Draco followed the Grangers to a well-known Spanish restaurant in Bath to eat tapas, because Mr. Granger insisted on treating him well to thank him for helping them communicate with the goblins in Gringotts last time.
This was an exotic meal, with the table filled with exquisite tapas, such as fried cheese balls, olive oil shrimp, truffle mushrooms, squid rings, cured salmon, etc., which were full of Spanish characteristics.
"We went to Spain two years ago. You really have to try the local tapas, they're incredible." Mr. Granger spoke with great interest about food and travel. As he passed the bread basket around, he said to Draco, "Some authentic things you can only eat locally..."
"Oh, don't pay any attention to him, Draco. He's a bit of a tourist," Mrs. Granger said with a smile. "He's always like that, too fascinated by exotic things. I really should tell you about the series of embarrassing things he did in Provence, France last year..."
"That's not a joke!" said Mr. Granger righteously. "That's Provence! My dream place! I love it there!"
"We even bought a small house there and stay there for a few days during the holidays," he turned to Draco and explained with a smile, handing the plate of paella to the boy so that the polite boy could scoop up the scallops and shrimp on it more easily. "It's the only place in the world that makes me happy." At this point, Mr. Granger's face showed a childish smile, showing an endless aftertaste.
"You mean to say you're unhappy now?" Mrs. Granger casually poked a hole in the conversation, ready to tease him.
"It's a life worse than death." He spread his hands exaggeratedly, first amusing himself, then quickly smiled kindly at Draco, "Of course not, I'm very happy now. But I will feel happy there from the bottom of my heart."
Mr. Granger is probably one of those Englishmen who is "fascinated by everything French."
"I think I can understand. I've been there too—" Draco smiled gently. He said to Mr. Granger in an understanding tone, "A lot of people like the south of France."
"Right? You think so too?" Mr. Granger was more interested in talking because of his encouraging words. A relaxed and dreamy expression appeared on his face. "No matter what it is, I love it very much. For example, when the butcher asks me in that pure and rich French, 'Do you want a bull's head?' At this time, you will probably try to answer him in French--" He gestured, imitating the French butcher's frank tone that fascinated him in his half-familiar French.
"Yeah, you say 'yes, yes, two' even though you don't need them at all -" Mrs. Granger said teasingly, imitating his "real French accent".
"I forgot how to say 'no need' in French! Besides, he looked at you so sincerely, as if that bull head was a rare treasure!" Mr. Granger said affectionately, "Monica, you know, I can never refuse sincerity."
This made the other three people at the table laugh.
Hermione couldn't help laughing, and trembling, she said to Draco, "And those local markets, the locals don't go there, but Dad goes there with great enthusiasm..."
"In fact, those are vendors who buy their goods from wholesale markets and prey on tourists..." Mrs. Granger threw up her hands helplessly. Draco noticed that she was still smiling and not really angry. Instead, she showed a little doting attitude towards her willful husband.
"Yes, I buy everything, lots of it. When they see me there, they start sharpening their knives." Mr. Granger waved his hand enthusiastically, with a look of self-righteous pride on his face, and continued to joke with himself, "Four peaches for 400 francs, that's certainly reasonable -"
"And then the next day you went and bought a bag of French apricots for 100 francs—" Mrs. Granger said mercilessly.
"At least the quantity is larger and the total price is cheaper." Mr. Granger touched his nose and said sincerely.
Draco and Hermione looked at each other at the table and couldn't help but laugh secretly.
"Is your family always so lively and cheerful during meals?" Draco couldn't help but whisper to her, "Do you always talk about these light topics?"
"What else?" Hermione said with a smile, "What else can we talk about? Our stomachs are tired enough just from digesting food, and we don't want to burden them with extra thoughts about serious topics."
Draco raised an eyebrow, it was the first time he heard such an argument.
The atmosphere at the Grangers' dinner table was completely different from that at the Malfoys'.
At the Malfoy family's table, you often have to eat with topics about intrigue or power games, and while eating a meal, you also eat a stomach full of strategies and schemes; at the Granger family's table, they seem to prefer to swallow some pleasant topics as side dishes.
For Draco, it was an unprecedented ease. Unlike the Malfoy family's way of eating and talking, which maintained a certain distance, they embodied a relaxed and casual manner and close care for each other.
Perhaps Lucius and Narcissa would have cast a critical eye on their table manners – which wasn't to say the Grangers weren't classy; in fact, they were quite well behaved.
Lucius and Narcissa probably couldn't stand their easygoing nature. At the Malfoy family dinner table, children usually didn't have a say—unless their parents asked a question specifically, Draco would answer properly. Even then, Lucius always thought that listening to children's opinions was a waste of time.
But the Grangers weren't like that. During the conversation, not only did they offer their opinions, but they were also willing to listen; they were accustomed to speaking back and forth, with no hierarchical pressure due to age differences, and an atmosphere of equality permeated the entire table.
It was a new experience. Draco had never seen how other families interacted at the dinner table. No wonder they had raised a girl like Hermione, so confident and lively, so brave to speak her mind.
During the pleasant chat between the host and the guests, Draco soon learned more about the Grangers. They were both dentists in the Muggle world - a field that wizards could not understand; Draco could understand that the salary was probably very good, considering that both of them had time to enjoy life and were used to traveling around - this was quite similar to Lucius and Narcissa, the "holiday runaway parents".
"Sometimes, Mom and Dad would chat about politics and social issues, which was quite interesting." Hermione thought for a moment and added to Draco, "I guess they think you're a wizard and might not be interested in current affairs in Muggle society, so they pick up some everyday things to talk to you about."
Draco nodded.
The Grangers were different from the Muggles he had imagined. He had thought that Muggles were all disgusting, like Harry's aunt and uncle—stupid, vulgar, and tasteless. But Hermione's parents were not like that.
Mr. Granger wasn't arrogant. He was a lover of the arts, and could discuss everything from painting and sculpture to opera and photography. Mrs. Granger, on the other hand, was an academic with a deep understanding of languages like Ancient Greek. Draco consulted her on a few grammatical questions, and they suddenly became clear.
"It's really rare for a boy of your age to be interested in studying these things. If you have any questions in the future, feel free to ask me, Hermione. Please write down our home phone number for Draco." Mrs. Granger looked at Draco with a smile.
"Mom, Draco's family is a wizarding family, they don't use telephones." Hermione and Draco looked at each other, and they understood each other and remembered Ron's reckless behavior of calling Harry's uncle's house not long ago.
It is said that Harry's uncle was very angry about this and was even prepared to put Harry in detention.
"It's okay, I can try to install one. Alternatively, I can send an owl to Hermione and ask her to ask you for advice." Draco answered calmly with a perfect smile.
Mrs. Granger smiled with satisfaction. She picked up a paper coaster, took out a pen from her bag, quickly drew a few strokes on it, and handed it to Draco.
She said cheerfully, "Anyway, call Hermione when you have time, and go for a walk around Bath or something. I don't want her to stay at home all day and become a little nerd."
"Mom!" Hermione looked at Mrs. Granger helplessly.
"The number below is the phone number of our residence in Bath. You can call this in the next few days." Mrs. Granger added with a smile.
Now, Hermione looked like a furious cat - she was embarrassed by her mother's kind act of calling Draco.
Draco decided to ignore Hermione's embarrassed expression.
He hadn't expected that the dignified and elegant Mrs. Granger had such a lively personality in private, which was somewhat similar to the character Hermione occasionally revealed; and Mr. Granger, in a sense, that relaxed and easy-going humorous personality was also very likable.
Although they were Muggles, they were very interesting, and he had no objection to interacting with such people.
So he suppressed his laughter, thanked Mrs. Granger solemnly, and put the thin coaster in his pocket.
By the time Draco returned to the suite in the sanatorium, the moon was bright and the wind was clear.
In his previous life, Draco would never have believed that he could get along well with any Muggle family; however, in this life, he was surprised to find that the joyful social activities with the Granger family were not scary, and even made him feel a little happy.
Lying on the soft bed, he rarely thought about the Dark Lord, the Horcruxes or those nightmarish memories. Instead, he was lost in thought, recalling the joy of playing with the Muggle skateboard, the sunset, the rose-scented wind, and the girl who was laughing behind him... until he fell into a deep sleep.