Thirty five

"Oh, my God. Harold?" Hermione said with a gasp. She couldn't believe she was seeing her cousin from her mother's side.

He left the country for greener pastures and he said he wasn't sure he was returning but seeing him back was a bolt from the blue.

Madame Sharon walked toward him, still looking like she was seeing a ghost. She furrowed her brows as she got closer to him and stopped dead in her tracks. "Harold, is this really you?"

Harold gave them an enigmatic grin and answered. "Flesh and blood, aunt. I decided Melrovia should be my home."

"Your home?" Madame Sharon asked in incredulity and scoffed. "Well, in this home, we're currently walking on pins and needles."

Harold frowned and fully entered inside with his traveling bag. "Whoa, what a welcome!" He grumbled and stopped in front of Hermione with a smile on his face. "So how are you?"

Hermione shook her head with a pouty expression. "Not fine. You came back at the wrong time."

Harold was officially confused. He turned to look a
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