As Headmaster, My Authority Is Unlimited

After exchanging a few more words about Anne's illness, Harry hung Ominis's portrait in the hallway.

The location is very conspicuous; it's placed right next to Walburga.

Of course, Walburga knew this old man Gaunt, not because Gaunt face was full of stories, but because she had been listening to stories of Ominis since she was a child.

She certainly had no objections, and Ominis, who was unaware of Walburga's personality, naturally had no objections either.

"I still need to wish you well, Harry."

Just as Harry finished hanging up Ominis's portrait and was getting ready for bed, Ominis suddenly spoke.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, it's because Miss Malfoy and Miss Grindelwald both found you, and of course, there's Pabbie, the girl I can never forget."

Ominis paused briefly at this point.

"But I think you're going to be quite busy from now on. After all, apart from Pabbie, those two women are no pushovers, especially— Grindelwald."

When Veratia's name was mentioned, Ominis's voice was barely audible.

Harry held up his hand and made a gesture that would be absolutely forbidden in Korea.

"Don't worry, little Germany," Harry said with a chuckle. "You've got him."

Ominis said nothing; he simply gave Harry a meaningful look.

Since Kritcher was sick and not feeling well, Veratia volunteered to be in charge of dinner tonight.

Thank goodness it wasn't Cassandra, Harry thought to himself, otherwise he would have been in real trouble.

"Poor Kritcher— " Hermione's maternal instincts hadn't fully healed, and Kritcher was still on her mind. "They're so pitiful, aren't they? Being exploited by wizards day after day, year after year—and even taking pride in it—."

"Maybe they like it?" Ron said nonchalantly. "More than that, I think we should be discussing Harry's situation—good heavens, I never imagined he was the same Harry Potter from a hundred years ago. When he said that in his first year, we thought he was joking."

"What else?" Hermione, as expected, put aside the matter of the House Elf. "Tell me, if I said I was Rowena Ravenclaw, would you believe me?"

"I believe you." Ron nodded hastily. "Of course I believe you. You're actually more like a Ravenclaw than Gryffindor —and I have no doubt that you're far wiser than Ravenclaw themselves..."

"Do you really think so?" Hermione asked with a smile, genuinely pleased to receive such praise from Ron.

"Of course," Ron nodded. "You're the smartest witch I've ever met; your eyes seem to sparkle—"

Hermione was happy, but she felt that there was something else she hadn't said.

Was it just my imagination? Hermione shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind.

"Oh, right!" Hermione quickly pulled out the small wallet that Veratia had given her a few days ago and took Jack out of it.

Jack looked to be in good spirits and didn't seem to have been locked up for a long time.

After seeing the sunlight, he swayed happily from side to side, like a happy garlic sprout chicken.

"Jack!" Hermione picked Jack up and buried her face in the parrot's chest, taking a deep breath.

Then she put Jack aside and started coughing violently.

"Cough cough cough—I forgot it has a lot of feather dust—" Red Hermione coughed as she said, "This inhalation feels like inhaling a bowl of flour—"

"I told you so." Ron shrugged, picked up the cockatoo from the table, raised his eyebrows, and blew it a kiss.

Unexpectedly, Jack followed suit and blew Ron a kiss.

"Hey, this little rascal!" Ron chuckled and reached out to touch the parrot's beak. "It's teasing me—"

"Oh, he's Australia, not Britain, and doesn't have any of those inappropriate sexual orientations," Hermione quickly said.

However, these words had little effect on Ron, because although he was Britain, his sexual orientation was normal—he liked Hermione and didn't like any other random people.

"You'd better watch what you say," Ron whispered in Hermione's ear. "Headmaster Dumbledore is here, haven't you forgotten? He— um—"

Hermione then remembered that there really was someone in the house who wasn't quite right.

Speaking of which, the Wizarding World isn't exactly open-minded. If this guy, Ladden, were in the Muggle World back then...

He'll need at least five years of electroconvulsive therapy to experience a form of chemical castration.

It was the Magical World that saved him!

"What are you talking about?"

Sirius walked over and sat down next to Ron.

He saw Parrot Jack and reached out to touch its beak.

Jack has a very good temperament. In fact, most large parrots have a good temperament; at least they won't be like small species like the Lovebird, which is like a flying plier that bites and attacks people indiscriminately.

Seeing that Jack didn't bite him, Sirius reached out and ruffled the garlic-sprout-shaped feathers on Jack's head.

"This parrot is very beautiful. Is it Jack?" Sirius asked with great interest.

"Yes, we were just talking about it," Ron said, shrugging. "And Hermione also took a jab at the Headmaster."

"No! I didn't! Don't talk nonsense!" Hermione quickly launched into a triple denial, trying to get Ron to shut up and not let his ramblings attract the attention of the Headmaster.

Who knows if Dumbledore will have a bad opinion of her because of this? Everyone knows the Headmaster has a good temper and won't deduct points from students, but Fang Yi gets angry and deducts points from Gryffindor?

Although this is outside the school, Dumbledore, as the Headmaster, has unlimited power.

"It seems you really respect Dumbledore, don't you?" Sirius knew Hermione didn't want to say more.

So, considerately, she didn't press further, but instead asked again, "What does it usually eat? I think we should prepare some food that parrots can eat, instead of letting it eat human food like us—."

"Give him some fruit, seeds, nuts, and the like," Hermione thought for a moment and continued, "You can also feed him some chili peppers, the kind with small red chilies—"

"Parrots can eat chili peppers?" Sirius looked intrigued. "Aren't they afraid of spicy food?"

"Of course not, birds don't have a sense of spiciness," Hermione said, stroking the parrot's garlic sprout feathers.

This is actually a bit of fun fact. The reason humans and most mammals can feel the burning sensation of chili peppers lies in the interaction between taste receptors in the mouth and capsaicin. Capsaicin is the "chemical weapon" that chili peppers use to defend themselves from being eaten by mammals. When it comes into contact with specific receptors on a mammal's tongue, it triggers a series of nerve signals. The brain receives these signals and interprets them as the specific pain sensation of "spicy."

This can cause strong discomfort to the eater, making them hesitant to eat chili peppers.

However, birds' taste system is quite different from that of mammals. Throughout their long evolutionary history, birds have not evolved receptors on their tongues that can specifically bind to capsaicin. This means that when birds peck at chili peppers, capsaicin cannot create a "taste storm" like it does in mammals, and the birds naturally do not experience that burning pain.

"That's really cool," Sirius said with a grin. "So, what would you like to eat for Christmas? I'm working on the Christmas dinner menu, and I can't just leave this to Kritcher— I don't really trust him."

"Would Kritcher really poison us?" Hermione retorted, somewhat displeased with Sirius's suspicions.

That's Kritcher, your Black family home's most loyal House Elf. How can you suspect him like that?

"We certainly won't," Sirius shrugged, "But you might, Hermione."

Hermione was completely taken aback by this answer and asked in surprise, "Why?"

"Because in his eyes—well, that." Sirius said in as gentle a tone as possible, "Actually, most House Elf believe in bloodlines. Perhaps it's something that the Pure-blood families they serve instill in them year after year, but who knows the truth? You just need to know that they don't really appreciate your kindness."

"Sigh." Hermione sighed and nodded helplessly.

She also knew that reforming the mindset of House Elf was a long and arduous task.

"You're a kind girl, Hermione." Sirius nodded in affirmation to Hermione and handed her Jack: "Go do what you want to do, I'll support you."

"Thank you, Sirius!" Hermione smiled happily. To have someone affirm her like this was the greatest help she could receive.

Moreover, this person is an adult wizard.

However, she did not understand Sirius's implied meaning.

It is well known that the Britain are just as good at speaking indirectly as the University of Tokyo.

In some aspects and at certain times, it is even superior.

Just then, Harry suddenly poked his head in from outside.

"Let's get ready to eat," he said. "Veratia's cooking is ready—I highly recommend you come and try it, she's a really good cook—..."

"Poor Germany," Sirius muttered sarcastically. "What good food could they possibly have? Nothing more than pork knuckles and sausages—"

"But it's still better than Britain food," Ron said confidently. "At least we won't see dead, mushy fish or moldy cheese on the table."

"Even we Britain would never normally eat this kind of thing!" Hermione corrected, "At least not in my family, Ron!"

"So what do you eat at home?" Ron asked curiously.

Hermione stammered for a long time before finally managing to blurt out, "French cuisine."

Upon hearing Hermione's words, Sirius slapped his thigh and burst into laughter.

"Yes, yes, Hermione," Sirius laughed. "Besides French food, we sometimes have Italy food too. Anyway, it's always better than Britain food, isn't it? Especially my mother's cooking."

It's arguably the worst-tasting food in the world.

Ron recalled the scene when he first saw the portrait of Walburga, shuddered, and nodded with lingering fear, saying, "You're right, Sirius— that's exactly it."

Just as Sirius had predicted, there were indeed roasted pork knuckles and sausages on the table.

However, this was just one of many dishes on the table; the majority of the food was authentic Vienna cuisine, very traditional.

"Looks like you're a decent House Elf after all." Cassandra looked at the food on the table, nodding in satisfaction as she praised Veratia: "Hmm, not bad at all."

"Thank you for the compliment, but even if I am House Elf, I am still House Elf of the Potter Family."

Veratia said with a bright smile, then turned around and kissed Harry on the cheek.

Cassandra initially felt she had gotten a good deal, suddenly felt it wasn't so great anymore. How could someone be so shameless!

There are so many people here! And you're openly being so intimate with Potter!

As the male head of the household, Sirius sat in the main seat.

The remaining people also took their seats in accordance with Western dining etiquette.

In fact, Western dining etiquette is also quite complex, with clear distinctions between the guest seat and the host seat.

However, in the eyes of some idiots in later generations who fawn over foreign things, Western dining etiquette is an elegant tradition, while the dining etiquette of the University of Tokyo is dross.

We've met a bit.

Sirius took two bottles of his treasured wine from his cellar and had Kritcher pour them into everyone's glasses.

Of course, Hermione and Ron were not allowed to drink alcohol.

Did you know that in Italy, even children are allowed to have a little alcohol with their meals?

Dumbledore chuckled and picked up the decanter, pouring a little wine for the eager Ron.

He didn't forget Hermione either, and poured Hermione some as well.

"But don't drink too much, today's a special day—isn't it?"

After putting the wine dispenser away, Dumbledore winked at Hermione and Ron.

Ron was overjoyed, as his parents had always forbidden him from drinking alcohol at home.

"But now it's 'Wizard's Vintage' approved by the Headmaster," Sirius, swirling his glass and admiring the wine clinging to the sides. "My family used to be reluctant to drink it—but things are different now. Now I'm the head of the family, the sole heir of the Black family home."

"I grant permission! I grant permission!" came Walburga's voice from outside.

She had to allow it in this situation; it wasn't for anyone else to drink, it was for Harry Potter, Miss Grindelwald, and Miss Malfoy.

It's not wasting anything at all.

"Even if you become the heir, don't waste money, Sirius," Dumbledore said earnestly. "I remember you bought Harry a Firebolt, didn't you? That's not something a proper head of the family should do. You need to be more mature."

However, Sirius nonchalantly replied, "It's just a Firebolt. As long as Harry likes it, that's all that matters."

Unlike some people who say they like it—well, but are actually always stingy and mean, right, Headmaster?

Suddenly, a "crack" sound came from in front of Snape. Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw Snape expressionlessly pulling a knife from the plate and table.

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