Hermione's family were dentists, and although they were not exactly poor, they were certainly wealthy.
There's a saying: "Golden teeth, silver eyes."
Dentistry was a very lucrative profession, especially for exceptional dentists like the Grangers, who were always in high demand.
A Bentley Arnage like theirs was equivalent to half of Mr. Granger's annual income.
For some reason, Mr. Granger and Ron got along very well, particularly regarding Ron's father's flying car.
In the Muggle's opinion, not even a hundred Bentleys could compare to a flying car.
It was incredibly cool!
During the journey, Mr. Granger kept asking Ron about the flying car, even suggesting he ask Mr. Weasley if he could visit their house during the summer to see it.
Ron agreed readily; despite it being their first meeting, he genuinely liked Mr. Granger.
Meanwhile, Draco had already returned home.
He entered through the door with a completely dejected expression.
"Little Dragon?" his mother, Narcissa, asked worriedly. "What's wrong? You were so glum on the way here. Did you have a bad day at school?"
Draco shook his head, his face clearly showing that something was bothering him.
"Let's eat first," Narcissa said gently, noticing her son's reluctance to speak. "I asked Dobby to make your favorite beef stew with red wine."
"All right, Mother," Draco said, smiling at her as he followed her to the dining room.
Narcissa sat to the right of Draco's father, Lucius, and Draco sat across from his mother.
"Ah, Draco," Lucius said, reading the Daily Prophet, "congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin."
"You already congratulated me in your letter, Father," Draco said, peeking at him from behind the newspaper, his courage suddenly swelling.
"You lied to me! The Sorting Ceremony doesn't require us to fight werewolves…"
Draco thought he heard his parents mutter a faint "te!" when he finished speaking. It was such a soft sound that it was almost inaudible unless one listened carefully.
Could they be about to burst into laughter?
Impossible, absolutely impossible!
"All right, Little Dragon," Narcissa said, "eat quickly. Your father has been waiting for you for quite some time."
Draco had the sense that his mother was holding back laughter, though he had no proof.
He could only mutter "oh" and eat the dishes he normally loved, though they tasted bland to him.
Finally, after finishing the meal, when Dobby and the other house-elves brought him tea, Draco held the cup, hesitating several times, wanting to speak but restraining himself.
"Little Dragon, just tell your father what's happening," Narcissa said gently, casting a warning glance at her husband.
Lucius, feeling helpless, set the newspaper aside.
"All right, Father," Draco began, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I heard some troubling rumors at school…"
Troubling rumors?
Lucius's eyes narrowed. He and Narcissa exchanged a glance. Had some gossip at school reached their son? Or was someone using his family's past as Death Eaters to manipulate him?
"What rumors?" Lucius asked.
"They're about an ancestor," Draco said cautiously. "I wanted to ask if we had an ancestor who was friends with a Weasley, and that they fought side by side, suppressing a goblin rebellion and defeating the Ash Serpent Party? I heard… her name was… Cassandra…"
Upon hearing the name, Lucius's expression changed drastically.
"Who told you that name?" he demanded sharply.
"It's a classmate," Draco said, swallowing hard. "He's friends with Harry Potter."
"Silence!" Lucius grabbed his serpent-headed cane and struck it on the floor. "How… how dare you mention that person's name!"
Draco jumped, not expecting his father's reaction to be so strong.
Harry Potter?
Why could that name not be mentioned?
"He… he's my classmate," Draco whispered.
Lucius's expression froze for a moment. He let out a faint sigh of relief, rubbing the silver serpent head of his cane vigorously with his thumb, and said to Draco, "So you're talking about Harry Potter. I thought you meant… that gentleman."
"That gentleman?" Draco asked, confused. "Was there a Harry Potter before?"
"Yes, yes," Lucius set the cane down, his voice slightly hoarse.
He picked up a cup of tea from the table, took a few sips in a messy yet elegant manner to moisten his throat, and continued, "As you might imagine, there really was a Harry Potter at that time. The title 'Mysterious Man' wasn't originally used for the Dark Lord, but for this person."
"Was he even more fearsome than the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, leaning forward with a look of deep respect.
"Well… the goblins covered the secrets, but as you know, there truly was a 'Cassandra Malfoy' in our family, your grandfather Abraxas's aunt. By family relation, she would be my great-aunt and your great-great-grandmother."
Lucius did not hide anything from his son; after all, Draco would be the future head of the Malfoy family, so telling him sooner or later wouldn't make much difference.
"Actually, I shouldn't be telling you this now, but since you know, there's no harm in telling you—back then, she stood alongside him, thwarting goblin rebellions with him and his friends, and suppressing the Fire Serpent Party with swift, decisive actions—but that gentleman ultimately perished along with the goblin leader, Lanlock, and no one knows their whereabouts."
"So… he just died like that?" Draco asked.
"Some believe he died, others believe he did not," Lucius said with a touch of melancholy. "Your great-aunt Cassandra was an extraordinarily talented witch. Your great-grandfather said that at her age, she could successfully conjure protective armors."
"Then why have I never heard of her?" Draco asked, intrigued. "Logically, the Malfoy family producing such an exceptional witch should be a point of pride, so why has no one ever mentioned her—not grandfather, not you?"
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