Who knows if Dumbledore might have any negative opinions about her because of this? We all know the headmaster has a good temper and won't deduct points from students, but what if he gets furious? What if points are deducted from Gryffindor?
Don't be fooled by the fact that we're off campus; Dumbledore, as the headmaster, has unlimited power.
"It seems you really respect Dumbledore, don't you?" Little Sirius knew Hermione didn't want to say much, so he considerately didn't press further and instead asked again, "So what does it usually eat? I think I should prepare some food suitable for parrots rather than letting them eat human food with us..."
"Some fruits, as well as seeds and nuts." Hermione thought for a moment and continued: "You can also feed it some peppers, the small, spicy ones."
"Can parrots eat peppers?" Little Sirius showed interest, "Aren't they afraid of the spice?"
"Of course not, birds don't have a sense of spice." Hermione stroked the parrot's garlic chive feathers as she spoke.
In fact, this qualifies as hot knowledge. Humans and most mammals can feel the burning sensation brought by peppers because of the interaction between taste receptors in the mouth and capsaicin. Capsaicin is a "chemical weapon" used by peppers to deter mammals from munching on them. When it contacts specific receptors on a mammal's tongue, it triggers a series of nerve signals, which the brain interprets as the special sensation of "heat," causing the eater severe discomfort and turning them away from peppers.
However, the taste systems of birds are vastly different from those of mammals. Over the long course of evolution, birds did not evolve receptors on their tongues that specifically bind with capsaicin. This means that when birds peck at peppers, capsaicin cannot incite the "taste storm" within them as with mammals, so birds naturally do not experience the burning pain.
"That's really cool." Little Sirius chuckled, "So what do you want to eat for Christmas? I'm preparing the menu for the Christmas dinner. We can't let Kreacher do it all—I don't quite trust him."
"Could Kreacher really poison us?" Hermione retorted, slightly irritated by Little Sirius's suspicions.
That's Kreacher, the most loyal house-elf of the Black family, how could you suspect him like that?
"We definitely wouldn't," Little Sirius shrugged, "but you can't be so sure, Hermione."
Hermione didn't expect such a response and asked in shock, "Why?"
"Because in his eyes, you are... well, that." Little Sirius tried to speak as gently as possible: "Actually, most house-elves have bloodline theory, perhaps instilled year after year by the pure-blood families they served, but who knows the truth? You just need to know, they don't really appreciate you."
"Alas." Hermione sighed and nodded helplessly.
She also knew that reforming the thoughts of house-elves was a long-term endeavor.
"You're a kind girl, Hermione." Little Sirius nodded affirmingly at Hermione, passing Jack to her: "Go do what you want to do, I'll support you."
"Thank you, Little Sirius!" Hermione said happily, having someone affirm her was her biggest support.
Especially when that someone is an adult wizard.
However, she didn't quite understand the hidden meaning in Little Sirius's words.
As we all know, the English people's way of speaking indirectly is at least comparable to Dongda.
In some cases, they even surpass it.
Just at this moment, Harry poked his head in from outside.
"Dinner is ready," he said, "Vivi's meal is already prepared—I strongly recommend you come and try it, she really makes delicious food..."
"Poor German," Little Sirius muttered sarcastically, "What delicious food could they have? It's nothing more than pork knuckle and sausages..."
"But that's still better than British cuisine," Ron assuredly said, "At least we won't see lifeless salted fish or moldy cheese on the table."
"Even for us English, we absolutely wouldn't normally eat those things!" Hermione corrected, "At least my family doesn't usually eat them! Ron!"
"Then what does your family eat?" Ron asked curiously.
Hermione hemmed and hawed for a while and finally squeezed out, "French cuisine."
Upon hearing Hermione's words, Little Sirius slapped his thigh and laughed heartily.
"Yes, yes, Hermione." Little Sirius laughed, "Besides French cuisine, occasionally we eat some Italian dishes; it's always better than British food, isn't it? Especially the meals cooked by my mother, known as the worst in the world."
Ron shuddered as he recalled the scene when he first saw Walburga's portrait, nodding with some lingering fear: "You're right, Little Sirius—indeed."
As expected by Little Sirius, the table indeed had roasted pork knuckle and sausages.
But this was just one of the many lavish dishes on the table; most were authentic Old Vienna delicacies, very genuine.
"Looks like you're quite a competent house-elf." Cassandra craned her neck to look at the food on the table, nodding in satisfaction and praised Vivi: "Hmm—it's indeed quite okay."
"Thank you for the compliment, but even if I'm a house-elf, I'm a house-elf of the Potter family."
Vivi said with a radiant smile, turning back to rub cheeks with Harry.
Originally thinking she had gained something, Cassandra suddenly felt dissatisfied. How could... how could one be so shameless!?
And with so many people around! You're openly being so intimate with Potter!
As the man of the house, Little Sirius took the main seat.
Everyone else took their seats according to Western dining etiquette.
Western dining etiquette is equally complex, with a distinct division between guest and host positions.
But in the eyes of some from later generations who fawn over the West, Western dining etiquette is considered an elegant heritage, while Dongda's dining etiquette is seen as dross.
A bit of a sight.
Little Sirius took out two bottles of long-cherished wine from the family cellar, and had Kreacher pour it for everyone.
Of course, Hermione and Ron, the two children, were not allowed to drink wine.
"You know? In Italy, even children are allowed to have a little wine with meals."
Dumbledore chuckled as he picked up the decanter and poured Ron a little wine.
He didn't forget Hermione and also poured her a little.
"But don't drink too much, today's occasion is quite special—isn't it?"
After putting away the decanter, Dumbledore winked at Hermione and Ron.
Ron was delighted; his parents never let him drink wine at home.
But now, it's the headmaster's permission.
"Wizard Vintage," Little Sirius swirled his wine glass, admiring the legs of the wine in the glass, "The family always hesitated to drink it—now the situation is different, I am the head of the family, the sole heir of the Black family."
"I allowed it! I allowed it!" Walburga's voice came from outside.
This situation must be allowed, it's not meant for others, it's for Harry Potter, Miss Grindelwald, and Miss Malfoy to drink.
Entirely not wasting it.
"Even as the heir, don't spend money recklessly, Little Sirius." Dumbledore advised seriously, "I remember you bought Harry a Fire Crossbow Arrow, didn't you? That's not what a responsible patriarch should do; you ought to mature."
However, Little Sirius carelessly responded, "Just a Fire Crossbow Arrow, as long as Harry likes it—unlike some people, who profess to like… hmm, but actually stay quite stingy and mean, right, Headmaster?"
Suddenly, a 'krack' sound came from in front of Snape, drawing everyone's attention. They saw Snape expressionlessly pull a knife from the plate and table.
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