After running upstairs, Hermione locked her bedroom door behind her.
Only then did she feel safe enough to open the letter Harry had sent her.
The overly sentimental words inside made the young girl's heart race with excitement.
As she read through Harry's message, each detail seemed to play out vividly in her mind.
But as she kept reading, Hermione's expression subtly changed. She gently furrowed her cute brows and muttered thoughtfully,
"Cho Chang… who's that…?"
You really can't underestimate a woman's intuition.
Even though Harry had only mentioned Cho a couple of times—her name appearing just once—Hermione instinctively felt something was off.
There was no logical reason. She just knew.
"Hmph…" Hermione pouted, clearly displeased, suspicion written all over her face.
If Harry knew what was going through Hermione's head at this moment, he'd be sweating bullets from guilt alone.
…
England.
Wiltshire.
Malfoy Manor.
This was the residence of the Malfoy family.
The Malfoys were an ancient line of pure-blooded wizards who openly scorned Muggle-borns and half-bloods. Their arrogance had reached a point of pathology.
Of course, their pride was backed by power.
For one, they were related to many other pure-blood families—those were their connections.
Then there was the wealth—centuries of accumulation had left them with mountains of Galleons.
More importantly, the Malfoys were politically savvy and deeply involved in government.
Over the years, they had produced numerous high-ranking Ministry officials and even Ministers of Magic—honor and status came naturally to them.
So really, they had every reason to be proud.
Even though a failed investment decades ago had left a stain on their reputation in the wizarding world, the fact that the family still stood tall proved just how powerful they were.
After Voldemort's disappearance, many of his former Death Eaters were either killed, imprisoned in Azkaban, or driven into hiding like sewer rats, afraid to show their faces.
But the Malfoys? They survived openly and proudly.
Lucius Malfoy, the current head of the family, was even a member of the Wizengamot.
No matter how you looked at it, this was a powerful family—cunning and calculating.
Although to others, it might seem like they were just skilled at switching sides.
…
The manor was enormous, encircled by a bronze fence.
Walking from the main gate to the understated, luxurious mansion took about ten minutes.
The path was flanked by manicured lawns and precisely trimmed plants arranged symmetrically.
You could even spot rare purebred stallions galloping across the grass—each worth a fortune.
Merlin once said, "A courtyard can never raise a horse fit to ride a thousand miles."
Clearly, he'd never visited Malfoy Manor.
…
At that moment, a servant opened the gates to welcome the arriving guests.
It was a family of three.
The parents were poised and elegant—clearly aristocrats with impeccable upbringing.
But what really drew attention was the little girl walking between them.
She had delicate, graceful features, with large, clear eyes that sparkled with curiosity as she took in her surroundings.
Her golden curls shimmered in the sunlight. Her long eyelashes fluttered like fans, enough to make anyone swoon.
And when she smiled, two adorable dimples appeared on her cheeks—utterly enchanting.
She was the kind of little angel even a Dementor wouldn't dare harm.
Suddenly, the girl spotted a shrub pruned into the shape of a galloping horse and ran toward it in excitement.
Her parents exchanged fond, indulgent glances but didn't stop her.
"Lucius invited us here… What could he possibly want? Our families haven't spoken in years," the elegant woman said.
From her tone, it was clear she didn't hold Lucius Malfoy in high regard.
"With his pride, he wouldn't have reached out unless it was important," the man replied. "He must have a real agenda."
The woman thought for a moment, then gasped, "He's aiming for the Minister of Magic position!"
"Exactly. Looks like he's already set his sights on the next term. Quite the strategist."
"Twenty years ago, they chose to follow him, and we remained neutral. Our father even cut ties with Lucius's father. Why should we help them now?" she said angrily.
The man smiled slightly. "That may be true, but we still share some blood. Family ties don't just vanish.
If our two families join forces, we both stand to gain—especially in political influence at the Ministry."
"But their reputation is terrible."
"That's exactly why they reached out to the Greengrass family," he replied.
The woman paused, then suddenly panicked.
"Narcissa mentioned in her letter that we should bring our daughter too. Don't tell me they—"
"They likely intend exactly that."
"I do not agree to this!" she shook her head firmly.
"Our daughter is far too kind-hearted. The Malfoys treat Muggles like insects—there's no way she'd fit in."
The man nodded. "We'll set that aside for now. The Malfoys likely just want to tie our families together, politically."
While they spoke, the three had arrived at the mansion's grand entrance.
The woman waved. "Sweetheart, don't forget what I taught you about manners. Go ahead."
She straightened the little girl's collar.
"Okay," the girl nodded sweetly.
Ding...
Ding...
The doorbell rang.
"I'm coming," a young voice called from inside.
The door opened.
The little girl looked up at the boy who had opened it and smiled gently.
She stepped back with her right foot, bent her knees slightly, lifted the sides of her dress, and gave a graceful little curtsy.
In a crisp, bright voice, she said:
"Hello, big brother. My name is Astoria Greengrass.
You can call me Nia."
Her smile bloomed like a flower.
.
.
.
⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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