Four Mothers Teach a Son

It must be admitted that Ron is quite reliable in crucial moments.

His suggestion was highly constructive and immediately solved the problem.

When Harry walked out of the house, he saw Miss Farley and Cassandra standing there chatting and laughing, while Sirius stood behind them, gazing at the sky.

When Sirius saw Harry, he was still mouthing, "Do something!"

Harry gave him a reassuring look, then suggested, "Shall we take a walk together?"

"Where are you going?" Cassandra looked up and asked, puzzled.

"Oh." Harry wasn't embarrassed at all; his mind was racing. "How about we take a stroll around Grimmauld Place, Number 12? After all, Miss Farley will be the mistress of this villa in a few days, so she should get to know the surroundings, shouldn't she?"

"That's true." Cassandra nodded, agreeing with Harry. "Speaking of which, I promised Gemma I'd be her bridesmaid, didn't I?"

"Yes," Miss Farley said with a smile, "Ms. Grindelwald has also accepted the invitation, and we hope she can find time to attend the wedding despite her busy schedule."

"She'll definitely make time, won't she?" Harry said. "After all, you've been her Minister's Assistant for so long; it's only fair that she attends your wedding."

With Harry's deliberate guidance, they bypassed Sirius's room and walked forward. Suddenly, Harry remembered Phineas.

Although it was a bit inappropriate to bring him up at this time, Harry was going to great lengths to distract them.

"Phineas has been absolutely ecstatic lately," Harry said with a grin. "I've never seen him so happy. Before the holidays, I'd occasionally go to the Headmaster's Office, and I even saw Phineas humming little tunes sometimes."

"That's terrifying." Sirius shuddered. He couldn't quite imagine what his grandfather would look like humming a tune.

From as far back as he could remember, Phineas always had a sour face. He had heard before he started school that although his grandfather was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he was not popular at Hogwarts.

But then again, it was the wedding of the only surviving grandson, which meant that the Black family was about to have an heir, so how could Phineas not be happy?

The Black family bloodline will never be extinguished!

Miss Farley and Cassandra walked ahead, with Harry and Sirius following behind. Watching the two girls chatting and laughing, Sirius squeezed out the words he had been holding back for a long time.

"How did things go?"

"Ron's got a good idea," Harry said. "But don't forget, the poster on your bedside table is of the Quidditch team, not something else, remember?"

"Huh?" Sirius was taken aback. "Why is it Quidditch poster?"

"Since you can't tear down that wall, Ron came up with an idea: get some Quidditch posters and cover them up with Permanent Sticking Charm so we can hide the female Muggle," Harry said quickly.

Sirius's eyes lit up.

"How come I didn't think of such a good idea?" He patted Harry on the shoulder. "If you ask me, Ron does have some wisdom after all."

"What are you talking about? What good idea?" Miss Farley suddenly turned around and asked.

"Oh, we were talking about the wedding surprise," Harry said quickly. "The surprise certainly can't be told to you now."

"Really?" Miss Farley looked at Harry suspiciously, then at Sirius, feeling that the two of them were acting mysteriously and were up to no good.

But since it was a surprise at the wedding, Miss Farley didn't want to ask any further questions; she'd find out in a few days anyway.

After spending half a day wandering around Black family home, and receiving Ron's coded message that "everything is done," they finally returned to Sirius's bedroom.

"Let's go in and take a look," Sirius said, clearing his throat.

They pushed open the door and entered. The people inside had already left, but before leaving, they made sure to have Kritcher clean the room thoroughly.

Sirius first looked at the headboard where the poster used to be, only to find that the Muggle girls were gone, replaced by a Seeker making a Wronski Feint and diving sharply downwards.

"It's obvious you really like Quidditch." Miss Farley had also noticed the posters.

"I was planning to clean them up," Sirius said somewhat awkwardly, "But you know, I was going through puberty back then, and I was pretty rebellious. I covered the walls with Quidditch posters—and even used Permanent Sticking Charm, so it's probably impossible to get them off now."

"It's alright," Miss Farley said with a smile. "We can just re-panel some wainscoting on this wall and cover up these posters, right? I saw a really nice set of wainscoting at a Muggle store earlier; if you have time tomorrow, we can go see it together."

"That's a good suggestion," Sirius immediately chimed in. "Speaking of which, this room really does need a renovation—oh well, it's all my fault, I've been so busy lately—I'll have Kritcher handle it."

After all, he is the Minister for Magic, and it's normal for him to be busy with many things. Miss Farley is now his secretary and knows that he is not lying, so she doesn't think anything of it.

"After all, work is the most important thing, Padfoot," Phally said naturally, calling Sirius by his nickname.

Oh, Padfoot.

Harry and Cassandra exchanged a glance and smiled knowingly.

It seems the Godfather and his new godmother have this little bit of fun. "Alright, I think we should head out now."

Harry coughed and noticed that his Godfather's eyes were practically drooling over Miss Farley.

My eyes are practically glued to them.

Not being a third wheel is one of his lifelong principles.

After leaving the room, Harry and Cassandra returned to the Living Room.

Ron, who had been waiting in the Living Room, immediately stood up and asked with great gossip, "So? I mean—did Miss Farley notice anything amiss?"

"No, not at all," Harry shrugged. "Don't worry, you've done a great job. She hasn't noticed anything amiss—at least not yet."

"And then what?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"We'll see what happens later," Harry said with a smile. "Miss Farley has decided to renovate the house and put up some wainscoting on the walls—after all, you know how awkward it is to be surrounded by Quidditch posters."

It was indeed awkward. Ron and the others were too young to understand, but Harry absolutely forbade him to have any in-depth conversations with Cassandra and the others, especially when there were other people watching, even if it was just a poster.

It felt really weird; Harry doesn't have any penchant for exposing privacy.

"That's good." Ron breathed a sigh of relief for Sirius.

Around 4 p. m., Veratia finally arrived at the Black family home, albeit late.

She didn't bring Ms. Rosier with her; she came alone.

Harry was already waiting at the door before Veratia arrived. As soon as Veratia got off the carriage, Harry rushed forward and hugged Veratia.

"Long time no see, darling," he said.

"Long time no see." Veratia smiled and ruffled Harry's hair. "How have you been? Have you missed me?"

"Of course I'd like to." Harry's hand, as if on auto-aiming, instinctively wrapped around Veratia's slender waist. "I was just thinking, if you're not busy, I'd like to come see you in Vienna every weekend—."

"Of course." Veratia ruffled Harry's hair again, and then walked into the house with him.

Every time he sees Veratia, Walburga greets Veratia loudly, his voice strong and full of energy.

Veratia, mindful of Harry and Sirius's feelings, greeted Walburga warmly, which made Walburga even more proud.

At dinner time, Sirius and Miss Farley finally returned to the old house. They had just decided on a whim to go to the shop they had mentioned before.

Sirius was full of praise for Miss Farley's taste, repeatedly exclaiming how excellent the wall panels were.

"He's finished," Draco whispered to Harry. "Look at my uncle now, he's clearly been ensnared by a woman—"

Harry glanced at Draco, thinking to himself, "Don't be so arrogant now, kid. You'll get caught up in this later."

He noticed something was off a couple of days ago; Draco's gaze towards Ginny was a bit strange.

Unfortunately, he never had any evidence, otherwise he would definitely have used this incident to make fun of Draco.

After dinner, Veratia and the other three sat together, seemingly having some kind of private meeting.

Harry wanted to join in, but the four of them glared at him and stopped him.

He found a seat as close as possible to the other side, and strained his ears to listen to what they were saying.

Unfortunately, he couldn't hear very well because of the distance. He could only hear that Anne seemed to be reporting something to Veratia. Harry could clearly notice that they would occasionally look up at him while they were talking.

Something's wrong, nine out of ten things are wrong—

Harry's intuition told him that they seemed to be talking about something dangerous.

Sure enough, that evening, the four girls gathered together in Harry's room.

Veratia sat in the middle on the right, her face serious; Cassandra sat on the other side, her face cold; on either side were Pabbie and Anne, but even the usually carefree Pabbie was solemn at this moment.

The four of them sitting together look like a multi-court trial; someone who didn't know better might mistake it for the courtroom of the Roman Senate.

"What's wrong? What's going on here?" Harry asked somewhat guiltily.

"I seem to have heard that some people have been enjoying the admiration and pursuit of other women all this time?" Cassandra spoke first, but her sarcastic tone made Harry feel that the room had become a bit more sinister.

"Really? Such a thing happens?" Harry retorted righteously. "That's absolutely indecent!"

"We're talking about you, Harry!" Pabbie said sternly. "Don't make a scene, don't interrupt! Come sit here!"

Harry walked over somewhat helplessly and sat down opposite the four of them.

"But you can't really blame Harry for this." Veratia picked up her glass, took a small sip of milk, and looked up to say, "After all, Harry is so outstanding. We can't stop others from liking him, can we?"

Harry felt himself sweating profusely.

"But he seems to be enjoying it," Cassandra added, turning to look at Anne. "Anne, what do you think?"

"I can't say," Anne said, crossing her arms and giving Harry a cold laugh.

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

The case is solved! The spy was here all along!

Who would have thought? Anne, who always appeared gentle and quiet, was actually an undercover agent for the other three women! An undercover agent hiding beside him to monitor him!

It hurts, it hurts so much!

I trusted you so much, Anne!

"I admit I was wrong." Harry sighed, raising his hands in surrender, "but I swear, I really didn't have any feelings for them—"

"Really?" Cassandra asked, narrowing her eyes.

Harry looked utterly reverent.

"I swear," he said solemnly.

"Heh." Pabbie sneered, "Then we'll see how sincere you are—sisters, let's go!"

After saying that, the four girls stood up together and slowly walked towards Harry.

"What—what are you trying to do?!"

Harry stared in horror at the four women closing in on him, swallowing hard.

"What are you going to do?" Veratia reached out and pinched Harry's chin, scoffing, "I'm going to teach you a lesson, of course!"

====

The next morning, Harry didn't even feel tired.

The Philosopher's Stone was so powerful that even the four of them combined were no match for him. At first, the four of them could fight Harry to a standstill, but Harry, empowered by the Philosopher's Stone, seemed like a perpetual motion machine.

The ringleader Veratia, had completely given in; it was the first time Harry had ever seen Veratia cry.

He stretched and felt refreshed, but when he got out of bed, he found that the floor under the bed was piled with gifts.

It seemed that everyone he knew gave him gifts, including the swarms of admirers at Hogwarts.

Of course, there was also Mrs. Weasley's new sweater—and it wasn't just him; when he went out, he found everyone wearing a new sweater, except for Phoebe (Mrs. Weasley seemed unwilling to waste one on herself) and Mrs. Weasley herself.

Mrs. Weasley wore a brand-new witch's hat, its deep blue color like the night sky sparkling with tiny Diamond, and a dazzling gold necklace.

"Fred and George gave it to me! Isn't it beautiful?" she kept showing it off to others.

"We're getting more and more grateful to you, Mom. Now we wash our own socks," George said, tossing the words with a flourish. "Of course, we know that baby Ronnie still needs Mom to wash his socks—"