HP North Star's Radiance

The fireplace flames crackled and flickered, as if tormenting her heart.

Prarese knew that Porter's decision was most likely wrong. She also knew that her inability to stop Porter was undeniably due to her soft heart and incompetence.

But she couldn't stand on high and completely deny Porter's choice.

Waiting is a form of torture, like being slowly cut with a dull knife.

This is true for her now, and it was also true for Potter back then.

From the first grade, Prarese had said that the fate of the savior was extremely unfair to Potter.

People always treat Potter as a savior, demanding perfection from him in everything, but forget that he was still just an ordinary, hot-blooded young boy.

Because he was a kind, brave, and ordinary person, it was natural that he couldn't bear to stay idly at Hogwarts, waiting for news from Sirius.

She was able to trust Dumbledore and wait for news of Winnie and Priscilla at Hogwarts because she knew enough, and also because she had learned to suppress herself over the years.

But Harry Potter was different, even the complete opposite. As Potter's Occlumency instructor, Prarese knew perfectly well that Potter was honest with his own heart and with all his emotions.

This was not recklessness or stupidity, but rather his way of confronting Voldemort, which also points to his choice at this moment.

Some people stand openly in the light, while others can only emit a little starlight for themselves in the darkness. This is the difference between her and Potter.

After Professor Snape left for the second time, Prass felt uneasy, as if something was about to happen and she was to stay there and wait.

Reason told her she should leave, or she would attract the attention of the Slytherins; emotion told her she had to wait for an answer.

Prareas did indeed hope to hear news of Professor Snape, good news about the Potters... or news of their deaths.

But now he has to leave, for the sake of a longer-term plan—regardless of whether Porter will ultimately return alive.

She slowly stood up and staggered toward the Slytherin common room in the darkness.

Perhaps, as Potter said, it was because it didn't concern her that she was able to remain rational.

Praris walked in the hazy moonlight, one foot in the moonlight and the other in the shadow, just like the past ten years or so that she was neither kind nor malicious enough.

……

Its daybreak.

Last night, Pansy, Draco, and other members of the task force were taken to the school clinic for treatment.

There are only three girls in the dormitory now.

Daphne and Millison, completely unaware of what was going on, were chattering away about what they were planning to do during the summer vacation.

Daphne was putting on her boots when she said sullenly, "My parents said that the situation outside doesn't look good, so they want me and Leah to stay home and study, not to wander around or stand out."

Some Slytherins have a special talent for self-preservation.

The headband automatically wrapped around Millison's head into a high half-up ponytail, while her own hands were busy tying a tie.

Milison glanced at the mirror and said cheerfully, "I'll probably be traveling all over the world this summer, and I'll bring you gifts then."

The British wizarding world is in turmoil, but the wizarding world is not limited to Britain.

Even if British wizards fought tooth and nail, it didn't stop wizards from other countries from continuing their lives and entertainment.

Praris whispered, "Daphne, don't be sad, I don't have anything else to go to either. I'm waiting for your letter complaining about Leah—will you get it within two weeks?"

"That's too conservative." Daphne sneered. "You'll receive it after a week's vacation."

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the students knew nothing and were chattering about their exam results and summer vacation plans.

Although Hogwarts has its share of troubles every year, the castle has indeed protected everyone and, to some extent, buffered the ups and downs of the outside world.

Around noon, the two-way mirror flashed again, but instead of Hermione, Harry Potter's face appeared on the other side.

“I think…you already know.” Harry lowered his head, avoiding Praris’s eyes.

“I don’t know, Potter!” Praris said coldly. “How interesting, do I have the right to know about your DA affairs?”

“I’m sorry, and I’m also very grateful to you.” Harry’s face was almost completely off the mirror. “Hermione is still not awake, but Mr. Brown’s medicine will wake her up tonight—I know it’s yours.”

"What do you mean?" Praris's face instantly darkened. "Wonderney was there last night too? You saw her? Is she alright? Is she still alive—?"

Lovers in the world are always alike, Prarese asked almost the same question Harry asked last night.

“She’s like Sirius… I mean, she’s still alive.” Harry’s voice trailed off.

Praris said coldly, "Just living, right?"

If Winnie is alright, Harry's answer should be "she's alright," not just "she's alive."

“Dumbledore said that Kingsley and Lupin took her and Sirius to St. Mungo’s,” Harry said. “They won’t be able to leave the hospital anytime soon…”

Harry told Praris everything that had happened the night before, including part of his conversation with Dumbledore, but he didn't mention anything about the prophecy.

Throughout the entire encounter, he dared not look directly into Praris's eyes. He was unsure if he could block her Legilimency, even though there was a mirror between them.

How could he possibly bring this up?

How could he let others know that he had to choose between being a murderer and dying—or that he had no other choice?

Praris sighed, tilting his head back.

Winnie is back; she should be happy. But she never expected that Winnie would only be able to receive treatment at St. Mungo's.

“Dumbledore—” Prarees sighed, “No one is omniscient or omnipotent, Harry. I know you can’t hate him, and I can’t blame him any more.”

Dumbledore believed he bore responsibility for the events at the Department of Mysteries, including the injuries to so many Order of the Phoenix members and the near-death experiences of Winnie and Sirius. Would things have been different if he and Harry had been more honest with each other?

But Dumbledore also had his own selfish motives. He wanted to do all of this himself and deal with the Horcruxes, rather than pushing the responsibility onto a child.

He couldn't see Harry as a savior, and therefore everything should be placed on Harry. Just as he accepted the crown from Prader, but never asked her to continue searching for Horcruxes.

Human nature is complex; young people and older people have different ideas. Dumbledore would rather pamper himself than pamper Harry too much.

But Harry felt he couldn't do anything, and Dumbledore didn't trust him.

In this whole affair, almost everyone made mistakes. Dumbledore kept many things from Harry, Snape and Harry had disagreements, Sirius Black and Kreacher had conflicts, Kreacher was wavering, and Prader was powerless to help…

When facing Dumbledore, Harry almost wanted to blame anyone, even Prarees, who had repeatedly tried to persuade him.

But after he calmed down, he realized that everyone has flaws, but the biggest flaw was himself.

There was a long, long silence between them.

"Mr. Malfoy is in charge of this?" Praris asked, perking up.

Harry nodded: "You should know that Malfoy is no good person; he's our enemy..."

“Thank you,” Praris said calmly. “He is your enemy, not mine.”

Anyone can criticize Draco, but Praris can't.

Draco gave her his whole heart and unreserved love, and even though he didn't say it aloud, Pras's mind and heart told her all of this.

Perhaps this love is fragile, lacking the tempering and harsh blows of reality, but there is no denying that he loves her, and she needs his love.

Prarese and Harry exchanged a few words briefly before Prarese put away the two-way mirror and headed towards the Slytherin common room.

She knew that Draco might need her now.

Even though, in her opinion, her words of comfort seemed somewhat insincere.

Chapter 137 End of Fifth Grade

In the main hall of the Slytherin common room, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting opposite Draco, talking.

Draco was holding something in his hand and shifting his posture from time to time, looking somewhat anxious.

There was no doubt that he already knew what had happened at the Bureau of Mysteries, even if it hadn't made the news yet.

Praris walked over to him and asked softly, "Are you feeling better?"

Logically, Praris's knowledge should have stopped at taking the entire action team to the school clinic yesterday evening. Therefore, this was the only way she could express her concern.

“Of course.” Draco barely suppressed his emotions and said in his usual tone, “Do you really think those Gryffindors can do anything to me?”

Crabbe and Gore exchanged a glance and then made an excuse to leave.

“You’re not happy,” Praris said bluntly.

Draco said slowly, "Didn't I just say? I'm perfectly fine."

“Then you should learn how to lie,” Praris mimicked his tone. “Do you think I don’t know you?”

If Draco truly didn't care about it, he wouldn't be clutching the bottle of Felix Felicis—he was praying for his father's good fortune.

Draco suddenly sat up straight and looked at Praris with a serious expression: "Praris, I have a question for you."

Praris blinked. "Ask away."

Draco took a deep breath and said, "If... I mean, if. If my family—"

His questioning came to an abrupt halt, like a videotape on television suddenly being paused.

Praris tilted his head, as if wondering why he had suddenly stopped.

"It's nothing." The words were already on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back down.

Previously, he felt he deserved to be the center of attention. Despite the obstacles Porter always presented in his life, it was only natural that Prader liked himself.

After the Triwizard Tournament, the Dark Lord has returned, and his family will regain the glory his father spoke of!

But now? His father has been defeated, failing to complete the task demanded by the Dark Lord, and is likely already sent to Azkaban…

He couldn't help but recall what Prares had told him: "Draco, Mr. Malfoy must give more, must be more useful than others."

An anxiety that had never plagued him before nearly made him ask a ridiculous question.

He was even wondering if his family would fall from grace because of this.

He was even wondering if Praris would leave him because of this.

—It's as if Prares has never cared about his family background.

it is ridiculous!

He muttered to himself with a hint of self-deprecation, "What am I thinking... Of course not..."

“Whatever you want to say, whatever you encounter,” Praris placed his hand on the hand that was tightly gripping Felix Felicis, “you can come to me anytime you need—just like before.”

Draco's gaze fell on their clasped hands.