444 Lily Street, Stone District, Manchester, England.
"Mom, I've finished my homework for today and I even reviewed all my lessons. Can I go next door and see Sister Kate?"
A tiny, brown-haired girl came running excitedly out of her room, pestering her mother with the question.
Mrs. Granger helplessly pinched her cute little face. "Hermione, Kate hasn't been home these past few days."
The girl's fluffy brown hair seemed to droop instantly. Hermione pursed her lips in disappointment. "Then… then when will she…"
"Hermione," Mrs. Granger said, gently stroking her hair, "Kate is going to a school that's very far away. Aren't you going to be starting middle school next year, too?"
But even if I wait until next year, I still won't be able to go to school with Sister Kate…
Hermione hung her head, only looking up after a long moment to plead in a small voice, "Mom, if Sister Kate comes back, you have to tell me."
There was still so much she wanted to tell her.
Mrs. Granger smiled gently. "Yes, I'll remember."
After finally managing to comfort her little one and send her back to her room, Mrs. Granger walked to the window with a hint of worry.
Two odd people lived next door to them.
Kate Shafiq, a girl who had suddenly appeared next door in her early childhood with an old butler in tow.
And Rand Jones, a man over seventy who went in and out every day dressed in a classic butler's uniform, claiming to be the girl's steward.
Such a pair was already strange enough, not to mention that Mrs. Granger had almost never seen the young girl leave the house.
The one and only time she had, it was when she was bringing Hermione back from primary school.
It was drizzling that day, and she was carrying a crying Hermione, who was upset about being ostracized by her classmates.
She hadn't planned on stopping as she passed the house with the number 445, but the poor little thing in her arms struggled to be let down, reasoning that she didn't want to be carried home like this.
Mrs. Granger was exasperated. Her child had always been strong-willed; for her to be carried all this way in tears was already a rare sight, let alone letting her father see her like this.
At little Hermione's repeated, insistent demands, Mrs. Granger could only relent. She held the umbrella over her as she set her down, then took a moment to straighten her messy hair.
And so, they were delayed for a little while.
It was because of this that, just as they were about to walk home hand-in-hand, they ran into the little girl who came dashing out of her house into the rain.
She had a pale little face and was soaked to the bone, with rare, silver strands of hair stuck to her cheeks.
Even though it was autumn, she was still wearing summer shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, shivering as if she had just been pulled out of a hole in the ice.
Mrs. Granger was terrified. She nearly mistook the seemingly polite old Mr. Jones for a violent abuser of children.
It was young Hermione who reacted first. She took the initiative to reach out her hand toward the girl.
"Did you get bullied, too?"
The girl stood in the rain, her pitch-black pupils darting warily between Mrs. Granger and Hermione for a long moment. Before she could open her mouth, her entire body was wrapped in a warm coat.
"Poor child, is no one home?" Mrs. Granger held the umbrella and walked up to her, draping the coat over her shoulders. "Come home with me first."
Little Hermione's attention had already been diverted by this child who had suddenly appeared before them. She completely forgot her own experience of crying until her eyes were red just moments ago; instead, her gaze was firmly glued to this exceptionally beautiful older girl.
To be fair, even though she looked somewhat wretched from the rain, the girl before them was still a hundred times more eye-catching than the prettiest girl at their school.
In just the few dozen steps to the house, Hermione's gaze had already shifted from curious scrutiny to adoration.
She liked this pretty big sister!
The girl kept her head down and did not speak, turning a blind eye to Hermione's direct stare.
It wasn't until they reached the door that the dynamic changed. Mr. Granger had already been waiting at the entrance to comfort his own little daughter.
But when he opened the door, what he saw was his daughter looking starry-eyed, and a child with her head bowed so low her face couldn't be seen.
Mrs. Granger immediately stepped forward and whispered a few words in his ear.
"So it's Mr. Jones's granddaughter. Please, come in!" He realized the situation and hurriedly found a pair of children's slippers from the shoe cabinet.
The girl paused for a moment, then chose a pair of adult sandals nearby instead.
"Is there a bathroom? I want to take a bath." She looked up, a hoarse voice rasping from her throat.
The Grangers froze for a second, but little Hermione enthusiastically took the initiative to go over and hold her hand.
The girl instinctively wanted to dodge, but upon contact with Hermione, she hesitated for a split second and allowed herself to be pulled toward the bathroom.
Then, she shut little Hermione out.
Hearing the sound of water running inside, Mrs. Granger hurriedly went over to take her little daughter to the living room to dry her off.
After quite a while, the bathroom door finally opened. The girl, who had been rather wretched just moments before, walked out looking brand new—no one knew where the change of clothes had come from.
"Child, you..."
Mr. Granger wanted to step forward and ask her something, but he was interrupted by the girl.
"You two, thank you for your kindness. I need to go out and handle some business now. I will send a thank-you gift tomorrow."
Such a mature tone coming from a child who was no more than six or seven years old felt incredibly jarring.
Before the Grangers could react, the girl put on her shoes, opened the door again, and rushed out.
Little Hermione urgently tried to go after her to pull her back, but when she opened the door, she found that the figure had already vanished into the wind and rain.
Sure enough, the next day, the old Mr. Jones they had seen before came to their door carrying a large pile of gifts to express his gratitude.
To the Grangers, they had merely let a neighbor girl take a bath in their home and hadn't even exchanged two sentences with her; how could they accept such thanks?
Hermione, on the other hand, had been filled with curiosity about this older sister she had only met once since the moment Kate disappeared.
When Jones came to the door, she ran out of her room enthusiastically and asked him if she could go over to visit again.
Facing such a small child, although Jones was surprised by her initiative, he did not refuse.
From then on, Number 445 became the place Hermione visited most diligently.
Even Mrs. Granger didn't know what kind of common topics her daughter and that eccentric Kate could possibly have.
Until yesterday, when Kate came to their door again. She personally explained that she would be going to a school very far away and told Hermione not to come looking for her anymore.
Mrs. Granger didn't know if this was just an excuse because she had gotten annoyed with her daughter, but...
Looking back at Hermione, who was reading a book in her room feeling depressed, Mrs. Granger had a premonition that her daughter wouldn't give up looking for her that easily.
She had to tell her husband in advance to prepare for their daughter's bad mood after being turned away.
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