After running upstairs, Hermione locked her bedroom door behind her.
Only then did she feel safe enough to open the letter Harry had mailed her.
The overly mushy words inside made the girl's heart flutter.
As she read Harry's letter, every scene he described played vividly in her mind's eye.
But as she kept reading, Hermione's expression subtly shifted. She gently furrowed her adorable brows and murmured to herself,
"Zhang Qiu… who's that…?"
They say a woman's intuition is scary—and it's true.
Harry had only mentioned Zhang Qiu in passing, with her name appearing just once.
But Hermione had a gut feeling something was off. No evidence. Just a hunch.
"Hmph…" Hermione pouted, clearly dissatisfied. Her expression was laced with suspicion.
If Harry could see what she was thinking right now, he'd be drenched in cold sweat from sheer guilt.
…
England, Wiltshire.
Malfoy Manor.
The ancestral home of the Malfoy family.
The Malfoys were an old and powerful pure-blood wizarding family.
They looked down on Muggle-borns and half-bloods, their arrogance bordering on pathological.
But that arrogance came with backing.
First off, they were related to many other pure-blood families—that was influence.
Then there was wealth—centuries of accumulation had left them swimming in Galleons.
Most crucially, the Malfoys had long been deeply involved in politics and had sharp political instincts.
Their lineage had produced numerous Ministry officials, even Ministers of Magic. They held status and prestige in spades.
In short, they had every reason to be proud.
Years ago, they suffered a major setback due to a failed investment, earning them considerable criticism in the wizarding world.
But the fact that they were still standing proved just how formidable the family was.
After Voldemort's downfall, most Death Eaters were killed, imprisoned in Azkaban, or forced into hiding like rats.
But the Malfoys?
They remained, living openly and with their heads held high.
Lucius Malfoy, the current head of the family, was still a member of the Wizengamot.
No matter how you sliced it, they were powerful and cunning.
Of course, others might just say they were opportunists.
…
The estate was vast, surrounded by a bronze fence.
Walking from the front gate to the elegant, understated manor took ten full minutes.
On both sides were lush green lawns and meticulously trimmed topiaries laid out symmetrically.
Purebred horses—rare and worth a fortune—galloped freely across the grass.
Merlin once said: "A courtyard can't raise a horse fit for a thousand miles."
Clearly, he'd never seen Malfoy Manor.
…
At that moment, a servant opened the gate to welcome the arriving guests.
It was a family of three.
The parents exuded grace and poise—clearly aristocrats, well-versed in etiquette.
But all eyes were drawn to the little girl walking between them.
She was delicate and radiant, her large, pure eyes filled with wonder as she took in her surroundings.
Golden curls shimmered in the sunlight. Her long eyelashes fluttered like tiny fans, enough to enchant anyone.
And when she smiled, two soft dimples appeared on her cheeks.
She was the kind of child even a Dementor would hesitate to harm.
Suddenly, the girl spotted a shrub pruned into the shape of a galloping horse and ran over excitedly.
Her parents looked on fondly, making no move to stop her.
"Lucius invited us here… I wonder what he's up to. It's been years since our families last spoke," the elegant woman said coldly, clearly not fond of Lucius.
"With his pride, he wouldn't break the silence unless he had a compelling reason," the man replied. "He must be after something."
The woman frowned in realization. "He's aiming for the Minister of Magic position!"
"Exactly. He's already scheming for the next term. What a strategist."
"Twenty years ago, they chose to follow him. We remained neutral. Our father cut ties with Lucius's family—so why should we help them now?" she snapped.
The man gave a faint smile. "That's true, but we still share blood. Family ties don't vanish overnight.
Besides, an alliance would benefit us too—especially in the Ministry."
"But the Malfoys have a terrible reputation."
"Which is why they want to align with the Greengrass family."
The woman fell silent for a moment, then suddenly gasped.
"Narcissa said in her letter we should bring our daughter along… they're not thinking of—?!"
"That's exactly what they're thinking."
"I don't agree to this!" she said, shaking her head.
"Our daughter is far too kindhearted. The Malfoys treat Muggles like insects. It's completely inappropriate."
The man nodded. "We'll ignore that for now. They're likely just trying to tie our families together politically."
As they spoke, the trio arrived at the front steps of the manor.
The woman knelt down and adjusted the girl's collar.
"Sweetheart, don't forget what I taught you about manners. Go on."
"Okay," the girl nodded sweetly.
Ding…
Ding…
The doorbell rang.
"I'm coming!" a boy's voice called from inside.
The door opened.
The little girl looked up at the boy, then smiled like a blossoming flower.
She stepped back with her right foot, bent her knees slightly, lifted the sides of her dress, and gave a graceful curtsy.
In a soft, melodic voice, she said:
"Hello, big brother. I'm Astoria Greengrass.
You can call me Nia."
Her smile sparkled like sunlight.
.
.
.
⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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