Hermione's family are dentists. You couldn't exactly call their household impoverished, but at the very least, you could certainly call them fabulously wealthy.
There's a saying that goes, "Golden teeth and silver eyes."
Dentistry is quite a profitable trade—especially for dentists as outstanding as the Grangers, whose clinic is always bustling with clients.
A Bentley Arnage like this one is practically just half a year's income for Mr. Granger.
For some reason, Mr. Granger and Ron hit it off particularly well, especially when it came to Ron's dad's flying car—which he found utterly fascinating.
In the eyes of this Mr. Muggle, even a hundred Bentleys couldn't compare to a single flying car.
It's just so coooool.
Along the way, Mr. Granger kept peppering Ron with questions about the flying car, and even asked Ron to talk to Mr. Weasley during the summer to see if he could go visit their house and see that flying car for himself.
Ron naturally agreed right away. Even though it was their first meeting, he honestly liked Mr. Granger a lot.
While they were still on their way, Draco had already returned home.
When Draco stepped through the front door, his face looked rather glum.
"Little Dragon?" his mother, Narcissa, asked with concern. "What's the matter? You've looked so unhappy the whole way—are things not going well at school?"
Draco shook his head, weighed down by his thoughts, his expression saying loud and clear, "Something's on my mind."
"Let's eat first." Narcissa, seeing her son unwilling to talk, gently said, "I had Dobby make your favorite—beef stew with red wine."
"Okay, Mum." Draco gave his mother a smile and followed her into the dining room.
Narcissa sat down to the right of Draco's father, Lucius, while Draco sat opposite his mother.
"Ah, Draco," Lucius said, looking over the Prophet Daily, "congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin."
"You already congratulated me in your letter, Father."
Draco sneaked a glance at his father behind the Prophet Daily and, for whatever reason, suddenly felt a little braver.
"You lied to me—the Sorting doesn't involve fighting a werewolf…"
Draco thought he heard, ever so faintly, his parents both make a "tsk" sound at exactly the same time as soon as he said that.
It was such a subtle noise that you wouldn't catch it unless you were really paying attention.
Could it be they almost burst out laughing?
No way. Absolutely impossible!
"Alright, Little Dragon," Narcissa said, "hurry and eat—your father's been waiting for you a long time."
Draco couldn't shake the feeling that his mum was suppressing laughter, but he had no proof.
All he could do was mutter "oh," and chew through his once-favorite dishes as if they were tasteless wax.
Finally making it to the end of the meal, and waiting till Dobby and the rest of the House-Elves served the tea, Draco sat there with his cup several times on the verge of speaking, but hesitated each time.
"Little Dragon, if there's something on your mind, just tell your father," Narcissa said gently, throwing her husband a warning look as well.
With no choice, Lucius put down his newspaper.
"Well, Father, here's the thing." Draco composed himself and said, "I heard some unpleasant rumors at school…"
Unpleasant rumors?
Lucius's eyes suddenly sharpened. He exchanged a glance with Narcissa. Was there some kind of gossip at school that had reached Little Dragon's ears?
Or was someone using his former Death Eater identity to intimidate Little Dragon?
"What sort of rumors?" Lucius asked.
"It—it's about an ancestor." Draco said carefully, "I wanted to ask—you—is it true that one of our ancestors was friends with a Weasley, and that they fought side by side to suppress the fairy rebellion and destroyed the Fire Ash Snake Faction? I heard…her name was—was Cassandra…"
But hearing that name, Lucius's expression instantly changed.
"Who told you that name!" he demanded harshly.
"A classmate." Draco swallowed. "A friend of Harry Potter's."
"Enough!" Lucius grabbed the Snake-headed Wand and slammed it down. "How could you… How dare you mention that person's name!"
Draco jumped in shock. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction from his father.
Harry Potter?
Why can't I mention this name?
Saint Potter!
"He—he's my classmate," Draco said in a small voice.
Lucius's expression froze for a split-second, then he relaxed a little, his right thumb nervously rubbing the silver snake's head on his wand. He said to Draco, "Oh, you meant Harry Potter. I thought you meant Har… that gentleman."
"That gentleman?" Draco asked, confused. "Wait, was there once another Harry Potter?"
"Yes, yes." Lucius put down the Snake-headed Wand, his voice slightly hoarse.
He picked up the teacup from the table. In a haphazard but not ungraceful way, he took a sip to moisten his throat, then continued, "Just as you suspected—back then there really was a Harry Potter. Did you know? The title 'You-Know-Who' originally didn't refer to the Dark Demon King, but to this man."
"Was he even scarier than the Demon King?" Draco leaned back instinctively, awe-struck.
"Hmm… Much of what happened has been covered up by the fairies, but as you know, our family did indeed once have a Cassandra Malfoy—your grandfather Abraxas's aunt. That would make her my grandaunt and your great-grandaunt, in terms of generations."
Lucius didn't hide any of this from his son; after all, Draco would eventually become patriarch of the Malfoy family, and there was really no difference in telling him sooner or later.
"In fact, I wasn't planning to tell you just yet, but since you already know, I might as well. Back then, she followed that gentleman, and along with him and his friends, foiled the fairies' treacherous plot and suppressed the Fire Ash Snake Faction with thunderous force—but in the end, when that gentleman faced the fairy leader, Lanlock, they perished together, and nobody knows their fate."
"So… he just died?" Draco asked.
"Some people think he's dead, others believe he isn't," Lucius said with a touch of melancholy. "Your great-grandaunt, Cassandra, was an immensely talented witch. According to your great-grandfather, by the time she was your age she could already cast Armor Protection successfully."
"Then why have I never heard of her name?" Draco asked, puzzled. "You'd think that such an outstanding witch from the Malfoy family would be recognized as an honor—yet I've never heard of her, not from Grandpa, not from you, not from anyone."
(Seeking investments, seeking monthly tickets)