HP North Star's Radiance

Before Malfoy could say anything more, the Slytherin door opened, and the wind whistled through the fireplace flames.

Prareas straightened up and looked toward the doorway, where Snape stood, his cloak billowing like a dark cloud as he entered the Slytherin common room.

Chapter 17 Muggle Talia

“I’m glad you didn’t do anything stupid,” Snape said, glancing at her and Malfoy. “You didn’t cause me any trouble.”

“I’m happy about that too,” Praris said, shaking off the cloak covering him. “It’s late, get some rest, and sweet dreams.”

"Hey, wait a minute, I'm here too!"

Malfoy jumped to his feet in a panic, fearing that Praris had forgotten the spell on him. But when he stood up, he realized that the spell had long since been lifted.

Praris gave him a wicked smile: "Mr. Malfoy, I think you can go back to your dormitory to rest on your own. You don't need me to pick you up."

Draco coughed twice, muttering incoherent words as he walked toward the boys' dormitory, busy settling his nowhere-to-go hands and feet.

Staying up late comes at a price. Praris felt dizzy, though not with a headache, but her eyelids were heavy.

She sat at the table as if sleepwalking, mechanically scooping porridge, until Pansy nudged her with her elbow.

“Well done, Prince. Did you see the look on Gryffindor’s face?” Pansy sneered.

Praris took out a handkerchief to wipe the porridge smeared on her face, but Pansy nudged her spoon with her arm, causing the porridge to spill all over her face.

"What's that look on your face?" Praris asked in a low voice.

She was exhausted from riding a broomstick to class during the day, tutoring Marcus at night, and holding down a nimble Malfoy in the middle of the night.

Her health was already poor... You know, the food provided by monasteries often only considers whether the children can survive, not whether they can live well.

Millison chuckled, "Let me tell you. The version circulating now is 1: Potter tried to trick Draco into going out at night with the lie about the dragon. Longbottom overheard Draco's words and tried to stop him. But what happened? The two Gryffindors were caught by Professor Snape on the stairs, and Professor McGonagall even caught Longbottom. Fifty points each!"

Praris blinked slowly.

She wondered, why?

Why didn't Professor Snape catch Potter's dragon?

Yes, it was Prarese who did it; she hinted at Professor Snape's dragon affair.

This is easy to understand; she's a Slytherin. Professor Snape mentored her, from academics to life. Marcus supported her, risking his life to search for her. Malfoy, that annoying guy, revealed her absence, treated her as a strategist, and trusted her words. Millison cared for her safety and stayed by her side... and everyone desperately wanted a victory.

What Slytherin wants, Slytherin gets.

Rubeus created this opportunity; he made a mistake, and the Gryffindors wanted to protect him. Prareus simply took advantage of the opportunity, which is perfectly acceptable.

Even the dragon wasn't discovered!

"Draco, it's a good thing you didn't go," Pansy said, her words muffled, as if she hadn't swallowed anything.

Draco Malfoy looked left and right, his eyes darting around, but ultimately didn't reveal the fact that there really was a dragon: "So Gryffindor lost 150 points?"

"And you'll be put in solitary confinement too!" the Slytherins laughed.

Praris suddenly felt a little nauseous. She put down her spoon and said to Millison, "I'm full, I'm leaving now."

She should be very happy.

She tipped them off, allowing Professor Snape to catch Gryffindor and severely deduct points. She restrained Malfoy, and Slytherin's points remained untouched. She achieved her goal, but the feeling was unsettling.

Praris wandered aimlessly, turning east and west, until he finally reached the end of a corridor.

There's a painting hanging here, depicting two women embracing each other. The figures in the painting don't move—it looks more like a Muggle painting than a wizard's.

Looking at the portrait on the wall, she inexplicably began to guess what Sylvia looked like. Sylvia must be around this age now, right?

When she gave birth to herself, did she have any expectations? Did she just hope that she would be safe and sound, or did she hope that she would become an outstanding person?

In short, he's unlikely to be an informant.

Praris suddenly realized that it was her conscience, which she thought did not exist, that was at work.

She wasn't guilty for telling on them, but because for a moment when she did, she did consider the possibility of them being expelled because of the dragon. And it was because even after considering that possibility, she still told on them.

Draco thought she just wanted to stop him from leaving, fearing he'd lose points in Slytherin, but she did have a moment of malice. Although the worst didn't happen, she did unleash her malice.

Perhaps it wasn't considered tattling in a conventional sense; in a practical sense, she was merely hinting at Gryffindor's nighttime activities, but she knew in her heart what she was thinking.

“I thought only old folks like us appreciated art, I didn’t expect there would be students interested in it.”

Praris was startled at first, then slowly turned around and finally saw the other person's appearance—it was Headmaster Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled kindly, looking at the portrait: "This is a Muggle named Talia, whose neighbor is a witch. Talia's town launched a witch hunt, and although the witch did not harm her, back then, if people did not identify someone as a witch, then she was very likely to be considered a witch."

Praris realized something: "So she..."

"So Talia pointed the finger at her neighbor. She thought, well, her neighbor really is a witch! She hasn't really wronged her! And if she really is a witch, perhaps she won't be afraid of fire. At least she'll be much stronger than an ordinary person, right?" Dumbledore said slowly. "So the neighbor was set on a haystack and burned."

"I think the witch is alright?" Prarese guessed, following Dumbledore's narration.

Dumbledore chuckled: "After a day or two, the witch still hadn't returned, and Talia began to doubt herself. She suspected that she had wronged her neighbor, that she had wrongly harmed someone."

"Does having a neighbor who's a witch mean she deserves to be burned?" Praris couldn't help but frown.

Dumbledore turned to look at her: "Young people are always so eager, so impatient for an answer, but before that, shouldn't we patiently enjoy the beauty of listening to the story?"

“Talia was filled with fear and deep unease and guilt, which tormented her and caused her to fall seriously ill.” Dumbledore took a deep breath. “Talia’s daughter, knowing the truth about her mother’s illness, came to the witch’s door and left a letter apologizing on behalf of her mother, hoping that if the witch were alive, she would come back and spare Talia.”

Praris shook his head. It wasn't that the witch wouldn't let Talia go, but rather that Talia wasn't willing to let him go.

“At her daughter’s urging, the witch did return to the town. But Talia was already dying, and although the witch didn’t mind, Talia was overwhelmed by guilt and died,” Dumbledore said. “But she was smiling as she died, holding her daughter, which is the scene depicted in this painting.”

"Is this your teaching to me?" Praris asked without hesitation. "Do you think I am Talia?"

“No, child,” Dumbledore said, taking off his glasses and wiping them with his sleeve. “I hear the unease in your heart. Why is that?”

Prareas pondered for a moment: "Everyone is doing what they think is right, but the right thing doesn't necessarily come from the right idea."

Prareas looked at Talia and asked Dumbledore, "Just because a witch is alive doesn't mean Talia hasn't made mistakes. In fact, I don't think Talia should have done what she did. But Talia is a Muggle, and Muggles are afraid of wizards. Perhaps Talia's actions were appropriate for her circumstances, but that doesn't mean she hasn't made mistakes, or that she hasn't had wrong ideas."

“Everyone has dark thoughts in their heart, more or less,” Dumbledore’s eyes softened. “I made some mistakes when I was young, more serious than Talia’s.”

"Your witch..."

Dumbledore sighed. "But Prarese, how bad a person do you think I am?"

“I think you are respected by almost all wizards,” Praris said.

Dumbledore laughed heartily: "I'm afraid I'll become complacent."

“My child,” Dumbledore said with a smile, “our past choices are not important, well, sometimes they are, but we shouldn’t drown in the past. What matters is the kind of person you choose to become in the future.”

"Similarly, having a heart of gold is important, but equally important is how we choose to act in reality."

Prarese left, still pondering Dumbledore's stories.

Dumbledore looked up at "Talia" and sighed deeply.

Isn't this world amazing? That wasn't what he originally intended to say, but Prarese felt guilty first, which forced Dumbledore to change his plans.

Prareas is unlike any Slytherin of recent years, nor like Snape or Sylvia—of course, Sylvia is not a Slytherin.

She is contradictory, complex, mature yet naive, intelligent yet self-imposed limitations.

------

Harry is not feeling well lately, or rather, no one can feel good after losing 150 points.

Like a prophet, Snape appeared precisely on the stairs of the Gryffindor Tower, while Harry completely forgot about the Invisibility Cloak on the Astronomy Tower.

Everything was over; he bet the Gryffindors hated him.

Even worse, he's going to be put in solitary confinement by Filch! God knows what Filch will do to him!

Just then, Hedwig flapped her wings and landed, leaving behind a small package.

Harry couldn't think of anyone who would send him something at this time. Could it be that someone finally couldn't stand him anymore and was sending him pranks?

You don't need to know who they are:

Clearly, I did something I can't forgive myself for. This is my way of making it up to you so I can sleep peacefully.

Chapter 18 Dreamcatcher

Harry was extremely confused, but he hated so many people that he couldn't immediately identify who it was.

He carefully opened the box, fearing it might be a prank by one of his classmates.

You should know that now, besides the Slytherin who already disliked him and the Slytherin who he disliked, the students from the other three houses also disliked him.

Even if given the chance, Harry would still choose to help Hagrid. But he can't help but imagine that if he could do it all over again, he would definitely remember to bring the Invisibility Cloak.

Some people already disliked him, so that dislike eventually became insignificant. But many others had been kind to him, even supporting him and cheering for his arrival. Their sudden dislike was not so easily accepted by Harry.

Harry finally opened the box, inside which was a circular, net-like object made of branches, with various animal feathers hanging around it.

He couldn't tell what it was, so he didn't dare to be careless and took the box to Hermione.

Hermione knew, of course, that it was a dreamcatcher, but this dreamcatcher was quite unusual: "It's a very standard Indian dreamcatcher. Its feathers are from magical creatures, and I can recognize one of the feathers as a bird-snake. I think hanging it up will bring you good dreams."

Harry found it incredible: "I don't think any person I hate would do this for me; most of them would wish I were dead right now."

“Perhaps you don’t hate him,” Hermione said. “Everyone has a different moral standard. What is a heinous crime in the eyes of a good person may be nothing to a bad person.”

“But the letter didn’t seem to convey much remorse from the sender,” Harry still couldn’t understand.

Hermione asked, somewhat helplessly, "So, will you accept it?"

Harry looked down at the mysterious gift: "Okay, I accept."

Harry said he accepted it, but he never actually hung up the dreamcatcher.

Indians, magical creature feathers, capable of filtering out bad dreams—even after spending time in the magical world, he hadn't believed in such things.

Ron laughed: "I think this kind of thing would appear in a weird magazine like The Quibbler. I mean, I've never heard of anything that helps with dreams, otherwise my mother would have hung dreamcatchers all over every room in our house."

But since Praris had already sent out the apology gift, she didn't care whether the other party accepted it or not, since it was a one-sided apology from her.

The branch of the dreamcatcher was something she had picked up at the edge of the Forbidden Forest; mistletoe was wrapped around it. The feathers were traded with Professor Kettleburn; she had given him her only book of poetry in exchange.

Birdsnakes are descendants of the feathered serpent god in Native American mythology. Most people only care about their silvery eggshells, but Prarese knows that their feathers are perfect for making dreamcatchers.

Thankfully, the bad times are finally over, in every sense of the word.