Cass, Keep Your Hat On.

What's wrong with you?

When Ron woke up near noon the next day, he noticed Harry's legs were as weak as noodles, and he couldn't help but ask him a question that seemed to have a deep concern.

In the morning, the Weasley family left Black family home, leaving only their youngest son Ron and two Twins who refused to leave.

So Harry wasn't really embarrassed, since not many people saw his awkward situation.

Sirius, on the other hand, saw Harry's legs go weak and playfully whistled.

"Looks like my son has grown up, hasn't he?" he asked with a smile. "How's it going? Any insights or reflections? For example—a few thoughts on becoming an adult?"

"Ahem," Harry coughed twice to cover his embarrassment, "It's nothing really, just food—is there anything to eat? I'm a little hungry."

"Oh, you really should get some nourishment." Sirius winked and left the Living Room, intending to go to the Kitchen to have Kritcher prepare some nutritious food for Harry to help him recover.

Ron was completely confused; he had no idea what the two were talking about in their encrypted conversation.

"What are you talking about?" He looked confused.

"It's nothing." Harry reached out and patted Ron, saying meaningfully, "You'll see in a few years—though I don't think it'll be long."

Ron was left alone to ponder the meaning of those words, while Harry picked up his teacup and walked into the dining room.

Veratia left Black family home this morning, leaving Harry a letter by her bedside.

The gist of it is that Harry should rest well and replenish his nutrition, and she will come over when she has time.

Harry scratched his head, still feeling a bit unsatisfied about last night.

After all, it was a young woman getting married for the first time, and it's only natural that he would become so enamored with it.

He was still thinking about it while eating.

Veratia's waist is so thin...

It is even more breathtaking when viewed from behind.

Yesterday, it was Veratia who took the initiative at the beginning.

However, as a high-attack, low-defense older sister, she completely lost her offensive capabilities after one round of combat with Harry, and was instead completely suppressed by Harry, with the offensive and defensive positions reversed.

"What are you thinking about?"

Sirius came over with the food and placed it in front of Harry.

"That's only natural." He quickly discerned what his son was thinking from his expression, patted him on the shoulder, and continued, "But you're still young—I don't mean mental age, I mean physical age, not really suited for high-intensity activities—you know what I mean."

"Okay, I understand, thank you, Sirius." Harry accepted Sirius's suggestion; after all, his Godfather was a true master of romance.

Sirius patted his godson on the shoulder, giving him space.

That afternoon, Cassandra arrived at the Black family's old house.

The moment she stepped into the house, she felt that something was wrong.

But she couldn't quite put her finger on what was wrong.

At this moment, she had no idea that Veratia had already stolen her home.

When Veratia arrived at Black family home that evening and saw Cassandra, she was clearly disappointed.

snort...

Cassandra is here, so I can't be with Harry tonight...

Harry was disappointed... to some extent; but the biggest problem facing him now was clearly not how to get rid of Cassandra and rekindle his relationship with Veratia, but how to trick Cassandra into joining the fight alongside Veratia.

Isn't that wonderful?

However, to Harry's surprise, Veratia sneaked into his bedroom again in the middle of the night.

"Are you crazy?!" Harry hissed, his pupils constricting as he looked at the beautiful woman straddling him. "Cassandra's right next door! How could you... how could you just sneak in like that..."

"Otherwise what?"

Veratia placed one hand on Harry's chest, gently tossed her head, and tossed her hair to one side. Then she reached out and unbuttoned her suit jacket, revealing a tight white shirt.

"Perhaps..."

After saying this, Veratia, like a swan struck by an arrow, raised her beautiful neck and let out two sweet cries.

Under Harry's shocked gaze, she lowered her head, her face flushed.

"Like this? To make Cass feel involved too?"

Harry hesitated for a long time before finally managing to say, "You really have a fever..."

"That's only for you." Veratia winked seductively at Harry.

Just as she leaned in to press down on him, she heard Harry's last words.

"Don't take off your shirt, put your glasses on!"

Cassandra felt as if she had a nightmare, a very long nightmare.

In her dream, she was shocked to discover that Harry had been completely taken advantage of by that wicked woman.

What's most outrageous is that while they were being affectionate, they were also giving him a defiant look.

She was woken up by anger, and when she woke up, her flat chest was still heaving violently.

This is just too much...

She glanced out the window; it was the middle of the night.

perhaps...

Is that woman in Harry's bedroom?

Cassandra felt increasingly uneasy and knew she should do something.

So she threw off the covers, slipped on her slippers, and went to the door.

Then, she tiptoed to Harry's door and pressed her ear against it...

Wait, what's that sound?!

She angrily pushed open the door and saw the very scene she had just dreamed about.

Especially when the two of them turned their heads together and gave her a defiant smile...

This was unacceptable to Cassandra.

She woke up in a huff.

She glanced out the window; it was the middle of the night.

wrong?

Cassandra scratched her head. Why was it still a dream?

This time she learned her lesson and even pinched her own arm.

ah...

It hurts!

After confirming it wasn't a dream, she threw off the covers, slipped on her slippers, and walked to the door.

Then, she tiptoed to Harry's door and pressed her ear against it...

Um...

It's very quiet.

It seems this time it's not a dream.

However... something feels off.

Cassandra pushed the door open suspiciously, just a crack, enough for her to see through.

Harry was fast asleep in bed, even snoring.

Seeing this, Cassandra finally breathed a sigh of relief.

oops...

It seems that what you think about during the day manifests in your dreams at night. He was so worried about that woman seizing the initiative that he had this dream!

With that thought in mind, she returned to her room, put on her Slytherin- style snake-green nightcap, and drifted off to sleep contentedly.

The next morning, as Cassandra sat in the dining room, she saw Sirius give her a sighing look.

"What's wrong, Godfather?" Cassandra asked casually.

"It's nothing," Sirius said tight-lipped. "Eating less salad in the morning isn't good for your health."

He was referring to the leafy green vegetables on Cassandra's plate.

"Oh right, you didn't take off your hat." Sirius pointed to Cassandra's head again.

She then realized that she hadn't taken off her nightcap.

Just as Harry walked into the dining room, Mr. Weasley and Percy arrived at Black family home.

"It's urgent, Sirius." Mr. Weasley waved the Daily Prophet in his hand. "Look, the Daily Prophet is spouting nonsense again—"

Veratia, already seated in the dining room, said to Mr. Weasley, "Could you please bring me the newspaper? I'd like to see what it says..."

They all went into the Black family home's spacious Kitchen, Kitchen was large enough for them to chat. Hermione made Sirius a strong cup of tea, while Sirius insisted on adding a little Ogden whiskey.

Mr. Weasley came over and handed the newspaper to Veratia.

Veratia glanced at the newspaper, while Cassandra stood up and peered over Veratia's shoulder to see what was written on the paper.

"I knew it would be like this," Veratia couldn't help but laugh. "The Ministry of Magic is in a panic... the criminals haven't been caught... the law is lax... the Dark Wizard are at large... bringing shame to the country... who wrote this? Ah... naturally, it was her... Rita Skeeter."

Don't tell me, you really shouldn't tell me.

Rita Skeeter's report is quite to Veratia's liking.

This was exactly what she wanted, an opportunity to strike at her enemies— Barty Crouch and the British Minister for British Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"That woman is deliberately going against the Ministry of Magic!" Percy said angrily. "Last week she said we should have focused all our efforts on eradicating vampires, but instead we were nitpicking about the thickness of the cauldron, wasting time! Doesn't Section Twelve of the ' Half-Human Non-Wizard Treatment Act' specifically state—"

"Have some mercy, Percy," Fred said, yawning, "And stop talking."

"Mr. Weasley was mentioned." Veratia suddenly looked up at Mr. Weasley as she read the end of the Daily Prophet article.

"You even mentioned Dad?" Ron looked up abruptly, his tone concerned.

"No names were mentioned," Veratia said, pushing up her gold-rimmed glasses. "Listen to this: The wizards were panicked, holding their breath by the edge of the woods, waiting for news, hoping to receive comfort from the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, they were greatly disappointed."

"Shortly after the Dark Mark appeared, a Ministry of Magic officials appeared and declared that no one was harmed, but declined to provide further details. Whether his words were enough to quell the rumors that several bodies were being carried out of the woods an hour later remains to be seen."

"Oh, my God," Weasley said angrily, slamming his hand on the table. "No one was hurt. What am I supposed to say? Rumors of bodies being carried out of the woods... Well, now that she's written this, it's sure to spread like wildfire."

He sighed deeply.

"I feel I need to clarify this matter. If things continue like this, the British wizarding world will truly become a laughing stock in the international community—"

"I should go with you, Dad," Percy said proudly. "Mr. Crouch will certainly need everyone in their places, and I can personally deliver my crucible report to him..."

"You don't have to be so attentive, you wonderful Weatherby," the Twins said in unison, rolling their eyes.

Upon hearing the Twins ' words, Percy felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

It should be said that the nickname Weatherby will likely stay with him for life—unless the Twins suddenly pass away one day, he will not be able to escape this nickname.

"What should we do?" Mr. Weasley asked. "If I remember correctly, Ms. Skeeter and you—"

At this point, Mr. Weasley tried to organize his thoughts. "I'm on good terms with you, Sirius —so, do you think it would be feasible for her to clarify things in the newspaper?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Sirius said regretfully, "As you know, the Daily Prophet never yields to anyone."

Upon hearing Sirius's words, Mr. Weasley also sighed.

That's not wrong. If the Daily Prophet could change its tune just because of a few words from the Ministry of Magic, then it wouldn't be the Daily Prophet.

"What should we do now?" Percy asked anxiously, scratching his head.

"If you ask me," Hermione suddenly said, "If we want to cover up a news story, we can cover it up with an even bigger one..."

She knew, of course, that Ms. Skeeter had been recruited by Veratia.

But Hermione has changed quite a bit; in her view, Veratia is clearly closer to her now.

As for the Minister for Magic?

I know him, but does he know me?

"An even bigger news?"

Percy's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, even bigger news—think about what could it be?" Hermione said. "This is Muggle news and politics. I think politics is all interconnected. Maybe in politics, Muggle are no less capable than anyone else."

"Can't we just deny it directly, or clarify it directly?" Percy asked, clicking his Delia.

"Even I know that." Hermione rolled her eyes and held up one finger. "The First Law of Political Science —only officially denied information is credible."

"What are we going to do then?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Are we just going to let these rumors fester?"

"So, Hermione just recommended that you find a bigger news story to cover up the problems with this World Cup." Veratia crossed her arms, placed her hands on the table, and tilted her head back slightly, resting it against Cassandra's chest.

"For example?" Percy asked eagerly.

"For example..." Veratia held up one finger. "For example, news about Voldemort —first, you claim that Voldemort is about to be resurrected; second, you present compelling evidence that Voldemort will not be resurrected, clarifying this rumor—finally, news about the World Cup will be drawn to this rumor..."

Percy thought for a moment and then rejected the suggestion, saying vehemently, "That's definitely not going to work!"

"Perhaps..." Veratia said again, "For example... the Minister for Magic's private scandals? That would be a good way to divert attention."

"That's even more impossible." Mr. Weasley rolled his eyes. "Fudge is more concerned with protecting his own reputation than with achieving any political accomplishments. He'll run away at the first sign of trouble."

"Then... what other options are there?" Percy was genuinely anxious.

Seeing his anxious look, Veratia revealed a devilish smile.

"There is a way—it's not that there isn't, but it might... make you very sad."

(End of this chapter)