A suspicious flush crept up Hermione's cheeks. She didn't respond to her mother's teasing, but simply gripped Lia's hand tighter.
The strength of her grip was less about comforting and more about staking a claim of ownership.
"Alright, let's get in the car." Mr. Granger cleared his throat, resuming his role as the head of the family as he led the way to the parking lot.
As she sat inside the spacious Ford, Lia's body tensed up again; this was still an experience she found difficult to adjust to.
This iron box called a "car" was cramped and enclosed, smelling of a mix of leather, plastic, and a strange fragrance. Accompanied by the low rumble of the engine starting, it still made her feel uneasy.
A warm hand covered her fist, which had turned white-knuckled from the strain.
"It's alright, it's safe," Hermione's voice whispered in her ear, carrying a reassuring magic. "It's taking us home."
Lia turned her head and saw Hermione's sincere eyes, which were filled with "trust me." Only then did her tense muscles begin to relax, bit by bit.
She still stayed very close, practically clinging to Hermione. Her long tail peeked out from under the hem of her robes, like a soft, snow-white blanket draped over their overlapping legs.
Mr. Granger's hand on the steering wheel gave an imperceptible tremor.
In the rearview mirror, he could clearly see the girl's silver hair, her pale face, and the lingering wariness in her sky-blue eyes.
And his daughter, Hermione—who had always been independent and even a bit of a "little adult"—was currently holding the girl half-embraced in an unprecedented protective stance, whispering soothing words with a focus and tenderness he had never seen before.
He couldn't help but feel like his own little cabbage was about to root up another little cabbage, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence in their country.
Mrs. Granger sat on the other side. She didn't interrupt the two girls' private conversation, but watched them with a gentle, scrutinizing gaze.
As a mother, she could sense the overflowing, almost tangible love and sense of responsibility coming from her daughter.
She had originally thought her daughter had just kept a particularly clever magical pet that could turn into a human.
But now, it seemed things were far more complicated than she had imagined. From that brief meeting at Christmas to this inseparable behavior, that level of care had transcended mere affection for a pet.
The car drove smoothly into a quiet middle-class neighborhood, finally stopping in front of a two-story house with a beautiful garden.
"We're here," Hermione said, her voice carrying a hint of the lightness of returning home.
Lia followed Hermione into the space she had visited once before. A familiar scent—a mix of books, disinfectant, and a faint floral fragrance—filled her nose. Everything here was orderly: polished floors, neat bookshelves, and warm family photos of The Grangers hanging on the walls.
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