Chapter 250: Princess Carry is a Science

After finishing the visit to Mr. Weasley, the two returned to John's home together.

"Mom, Dad, we're back."

After returning home, John's parents were already back.

"Ah, did little Hermione come?"

John's mother was the first to run to the entrance.

Then after seeing Hermione, before Hermione could ask, she ran up and hugged her.

"Auntie missed you so much, little Hermione~"

Hermione was directly hugged into her arms and rubbed.

Although it wasn't the first time, she was still a bit unaccustomed...

After a good struggle, she finally broke free from John's mother's warm embrace, her cheeks slightly red, and a few strands of messy curls sticking to her hair tips.

Like a little cat that had been smoothed too much and was trying hard to find its composure.

"Hi, Auntie, and Uncle."

Hermione took a breath, and then had time to greet John's parents.

John's father smiled kindly and nodded: "Sit down, treat it like your own home, make yourself at home."

After speaking, he looked at his son who was already lying dead beside him, and changed to a stern father's expression.

"Sit properly, sit straight."

?

John looked at his old father incredulously.

No, are you being so double-standard?

John sat up slowly, his back barely sticking to the back of the chair.

Looking at the appearance of the two, Hermione and John's mother looked at each other and laughed.

"Little Hermione, call your parents first to report safety, don't let them worry."

Hermione nodded, came to the landline in John's house, picked up the phone and dialed out.

John sat on the sofa with his old father, staring at each other.

"Hmph."

?

The old father suddenly hummed inexplicably.

John was stunned.

What did I do to you again?

"A whole semester, and you didn't know how to write a letter back."

Alright, the old man had a reason to be angry.

"... Didn't I write later..."

John said stammeringly.

"You wrote less than fifty words, and it was all a one-sided notification, is there any way to write a family letter like that?"

"......" John was speechless.

"Look, look, look at little Hermione, she knows how to write to us, but you, the biological son, are not as good as her."

The old father got angrier as he spoke, directly taking out a letter paper, on which two pages were full of words.

Compared to this, the letter John wrote was simply a work memo.

John was also surprised, knowing that Hermione had written to his parents to report safety for him.

But he didn't expect her to write so much and so seriously.

No, you make me look very unfilial!

Hermione hung up the phone and came back, just in time to hear the old father sighing while holding the letter: "The handwriting is neat, the logic is clear, and she even remembers clearly what tea we like to drink..."

"They say that having a son is only happy on the day of birth and the day of marriage, while having a daughter is only unhappy on the day of birth and the day of marriage, and happy the rest of the time."

"Sure enough, it's true."

"If only I could exchange children with my brother..."

Listening to the old father complaining like a resentful woman, John lowered his head and picked at the sofa seam, and glared at Hermione angrily.

Before, he was a super good child in his old father's heart, and he had never been compared and picked on like this.

But ever since Hermione came to his house, he had become more and more unbearable in his own parents' hearts.

Hermione pursed her lips and smiled throughout.

Then she saw her take out a box of pastries from her luggage and place it gently on the coffee table.

"Uncle, this is a pastry I specifically bought for you and Auntie, it's the flavor you and Auntie like."

John:?

No, when did you buy it?

"Oh my, you came, why bring gifts, you have a heart."

The old father heard Hermione's words, immediately withdrew from the resentment just now, changed to a kind smile, took the pastry box and nodded repeatedly.

John rubbed his eyebrows, this house seemed a bit unsuitable for living...

"Alright, alright, come and eat."

At this time, the old mother finally came out of the kitchen with a plate of hot roast chicken and greeted the few.

"Hermione, sit here—John, stop standing there, go and set the bowls and chopsticks."

John stood up helplessly, Hermione, although she had been smiling, still very diligently helped to set the bowls and chopsticks, serve the salad, and divide the roast chicken into plates.

Still have a bit of conscience...

No! You grabbed all my work, what do I do?

Sure enough, the next second, the old father's loving iron fist landed accurately on the back of John's head.

Night.

The two adults went to bed early.

Only John and Hermione were left in the living room.

Hermione was sitting on the sofa, she had changed into home clothes at this time, with a little less of the square and rigorous academy style on weekdays, and a little more softness and relaxation steamed by hot water.

She was barefoot, her toes unconsciously curling into the carpet fluff, holding a cup of warm honey lemon water in her hands.

Her gaze silently followed John who was wandering around the room.

John was checking the warning spell he left last summer.

It looked quite well preserved, no need to rearrange.

After he finished checking, he returned to the sofa and found Hermione staring at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" John asked strangely.

"Nothing, just remembered the first time I came to your place for Christmas."

Hermione curled her eyebrows and recalled with a smile.

"At that time you weren't as tall as me, didn't expect that only two years have passed, you are taller than me."

"I remember Harry wasn't this tall in the third grade."

John heard this and directly puffed out his chest proudly.

"That's for sure."

Hermione smiled and shook her head, hitting him.

"But you were cuter back then."

"I'm called masculine!" John retorted dissatisfiedly.

This remark made Hermione laugh directly.

"Small arms and small legs, what are you pretending to be an adult for?"

This remark made John anxious.

Who are you looking down on!

John bounced off the sofa, and then in Hermione's panicked gaze, directly picked Hermione up in a princess carry.

Hermione was startled and exclaimed, then hurriedly hugged his neck, her cheeks stained with a thin layer of crimson.

"You, you put me down..."

Facing Hermione's plea for mercy, John deliberately shook her, causing Hermione to let out another light cry.

Her struggle was soft like a little cat kicking its legs.

"Oh—!"

"Stop making trouble~ what if Uncle and Auntie find out..."

Hermione blushed, shrinking in John's arms, saying no with her mouth, but her body was very honest.

Princess carry is a science.

The person being carried is completely weightless and unable to move autonomously in this posture, and must entrust all the weight and safety of the body to the other party.

This forced reliance will instantly raise the trust threshold.

If the person being carried feels at ease, the sense of trust will turn into a sense of intimacy.

But if they feel uncomfortable, the sense of trust will turn into a slap...

In short, please try with caution. ===== CHAPTER 251 =====