His mother was the last person he wanted showing up in Spain at the moment. Well, maybe not last — that award probably went to Mr. Yaxley, followed by someone in law enforcement ready to arrest him for something — but she was certainly up there.

"No," he said, trying for both firm and gentle. He wanted to convey that it wasn't a matter of debate, without coming across like he was angry with her for bringing it up (what did it matter what she planned, anyway? He supposed his family's exclusion might save her a handful of galleons when it came to paying for dinner plates no one would use). "They don't — hm. Aprovar?" he guessed. He didn't know the word for approve (but his guess ended up being close enough she could likely follow his meaning). "Of me," he hastened to add. "I'm sure they would approve of you."

They hadn't approved of him running Mrs. Yaxley, at any rate; he could only imagine they wouldn't approve of him willfully ruining another innocent young lady.

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