HP North Star's Radiance

She finally arrived at carriage C, and it was Zabini who pushed open the door—he probably didn't want to be ungentlemanly, but he was already ahead of her.

“Brace! You’ve come!” Slughorn greeted him warmly, then said to Praris behind him, “So you must be Praris Prince!”

“I saw your picture at Miss Stewart’s house,” Slughorn said cheerfully. “She said you are the finest Slytherin in recent years.”

That photo was taken at the Astronomy Tower when Stella was about to graduate.

Praris took a quick look at Slughorn: bald, beer-bellied, white-bearded, wearing a velvet vest and coat with gold buttons.

Slughorn is a Slytherin who enjoys life, values ​​quality of life, and is quite well-off. He is also very active in social circles.

Inside the carriage, besides Prareas, there was Ginny Weasley, who looked bewildered and stood aside; McCormack McLagan, a seventh-year student from Gryffindor; and Marcos Bellby from Ravenclaw.

Praris smiled calmly and said, "Miss Stella always sees the good in others."

Slughorn was like an octopus, chatting with this person one minute and that person the next.

He then eagerly cultivated relationships with everyone present, much like a spider.

The carriage door was opened as they discussed how Belby's uncle was Damocles, the inventor of the wolfsbane medicine.

Slughorn jumped up as if he had a spring in his backside, warmly welcoming Harry and Neville as they entered.

Ironically, Slughorn introduced Prares and Zabini to the two Gryffindors.

"Bress Zabini and Praris Prince, they're in the same grade as you, you should know each other, right?"

Under normal circumstances, it's considered harmonious if Gryffindor and Slytherin don't fight.

Praris and Zabini were focused on their meal, as if they hadn't seen the two of them.

Having just mentioned Belby's uncle, Slughorn continued the conversation, inquiring about Damocles's creation of the wolfsbane potion.

But Belby's father and his uncle had a rather strained relationship, and he couldn't really give a detailed account of it.

Upon seeing this, Slughorn suddenly sneered, losing interest in Belby and turning his attention to Praris.

"And you, Praris?" Slughorn asked. "Was Stuart just as good back in his school days?"

“Oh, yes,” Prares said. “Stella is Slytherin’s only female Quidditch player.”

"It seems you're all quite interested in Quidditch?" Slughorn questioned her.

Prare said frankly, "I'm not very interested in Quidditch. When I met her, she had already stopped playing Quidditch."

Slughorn seemed a little skeptical about her relationship with Stella: "Speaking of which, you were only a junior when she graduated, right? What interesting things did you two usually talk about?"

Slughorn's question is excellent! Praris has never even considered this question—when friends chat, do they even consider what topics to talk about?

She and Stella would occasionally get together, usually in a mindless state, sitting down and starting to ramble on about everything under the sun, each talking past each other, their words completely irrelevant.

Praris nodded: "It's nothing, just a casual get-together. Sometimes we bring Professor Sinister along and chat about our studies and work. Sometimes Marcus comes back to the US and we talk about things abroad."

“Marcus Flint, is that right? You know him?” Slughorn immediately showed some interest. “Come to think of it, Flint used to be a student at Slytherin. Tell me about Flint, I heard he’s been promoted to a starting position in Jamaica…”

Marcus was definitely not cut out for academics, and his playing style during his school days was very aggressive.

But after graduation, the long bench time completely wore down his edges and temper. His aggressive offensive style honed his flying skills, eventually making him a starting chaser.

Prareas didn't want to reveal too much about Marcus's private life.

She had already stated that she wasn't interested in Quidditch. So, she confidently declared that she didn't understand anything about the Jamaican Quidditch team. Then she brushed it off by mentioning Marcus's experiences of traveling abroad on company pay while playing games.

After Prareas, the next person Slughorn questioned was McCragan. His uncle happened to know the new Minister for Magic, which greatly intrigued Slughorn.

Then Neville, and finally Harry.

Slughorn said in an inquisitive tone, "Like that legendary prophetic orb—"

A prophecy ball?

Neither Dumbledore nor Hermione ever revealed this to her.

Prarese squinted at Harry, and Harry, catching Prarese's gaze out of the corner of his eye, immediately lowered his head to avoid her direct look.

Ha! That's really interesting.

Since you're afraid of being possessed by her, why don't you practice your mind control techniques properly?

Finally, as darkness fell, Slughorn had no choice but to let the students go.

Zabini walked ahead of her, saying unhappily, "How ridiculous, the savior? Has Harry Potter become too dissatisfied with the title of savior?"

Praris chuckled. "Arguing with normal people is fine. Arguing with idiots just means you're an idiot too. If you care about this, it means you really believe it—ha, you actually take this kind of empty title to heart."

"Are you mocking me for being stupid?" Zabini glared at her.

Praris shrugged. "If that's what you want to think."

Zabini angrily yanked open the door to the private room, but Praris stopped in front of it and refused to go in.

"What?" Zabini said irritably, "Do you want me to treat you?"

Draco looked out curiously.

Praris glanced at the floor near the entrance to the private room: "Thank you."

After saying that, she slowly strolled inside.

“Praris, Zabini—how are you?” Draco asked curiously. “What does Slughorn want with you?”

Zabini, still seething with anger, said coldly, "He's just trying to curry favor with those who are related to the powerful and wealthy. It's a pity that his wishes haven't come true much."

Draco kept asking questions of the other invited guests, while Praris idly played with his fingers.

“Pansy just came by,” Draco suddenly said. “Aren’t you going to see her?”

Without looking up, Praris replied, "Wait a moment."

Zabini coldly observed the two of them speaking in hushed tones, and said with a hint of malice, "Speaking of which, Slughorn also asked about Flint. Prince, I didn't expect that you two are quite close, are you? Flint has graduated, and you two are still in contact privately."

Draco immediately looked at Praris and said unhappily, "You and Marcus have met again?"

“Otherwise?” Praris said calmly. “He just graduated, he didn’t break off our friendship.”

“But you—but he—” Draco tried to say something in frustration, but couldn’t get the words out.

“What’s wrong with that?” Praris blinked and looked at Draco. “Stella has already called him here, should I ask him to leave?”

Draco was stunned. There was a third person?

He turned to Zabini, abruptly changing the subject: "My father used to be very favored by him... I guess Slughorn probably doesn't know I'm on the train too, otherwise he should..."

“I think he probably won’t invite you,” Zabini said bluntly. “He asked me about Nott. After learning that Nott’s father had been arrested… Nott wasn’t invited, was he? I don’t think he’s very interested in Death Eaters.”

Draco looked a little angry and embarrassed. He tried to save face, saying, "Who cares what he's interested in? He's just a stupid old man... I might not even be at Hogwarts next year! What does it matter whether he likes me or not?"

Praris stopped what she was doing, turned to look at him, and said in an icy tone, "What did you say?"

Draco moved his lips, swallowed, and his tone surprisingly excited: "Nothing! I mean, who knows, I might do something else that's more meaningful and important, right?"

Praris narrowed his eyes, looked him up and down, and said coldly, "What are you planning to do—make it clear, I'm not someone to be fooled."

“Praris! What are you worried about?” Draco said urgently. “I told you, there are some things I can’t tell you, but they might just bring my family back to its former glory.”

Draco added, "Only students care about getting the twelve Os... The Dark Lord only cares about how others serve him and achieve great things..."

Zabini seemed to find it amusing, and scoffed, "Draco, what do you think you can do? You're not even an adult yet!"

Draco was about to retort when Praris suddenly stood up: "We're almost at school, I'm going back to find Pansy."

“You’ve angered her,” Zabini said to Draco with schadenfreude.

Praris opened the car door, but then paused.

She turned to Zabini and said, "Stop stirring things up! If you think it's a shame you didn't get to taste Miss Weasley's Bat Charm—I can imitate a similar one and let you have a taste."

After saying that, she slammed the door shut.

Praris turned and walked forward, his expression perfectly calm.

Her lips didn't move, but she made a sound: "That's not very polite, Potter."

Harry, hidden beneath the invisibility cloak, was taken aback.

Harry wondered, "When did she find out about this place?"

Harry whispered, "Did you hear what he said? I bet he's become a Death Eater—"

"Shut up!" Praris hissed. "You dare get in this cramped carriage? What am I supposed to do if Draco finds out? Beat you up for him?"

"How did you find out?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"What do you care how I found out?" Praris said coldly. "Get back to your Gryffindor carriage—there won't be a next time."

Harry took two steps away, then caught up with her again: "Thank you! It was my fault last semester! Thank you and Winnie for saving Sirius."

Praris walked away without looking back: "Please don't give us another chance to thank you! If you insist on thanking us, then at least learn your lesson!"

Harry finally left, and Praris also came to Pansy and the others' carriage.

"Plai!" Pansy hurriedly shoved the robe into Lai Lai's hands. "Quickly change your clothes! The train is about to arrive at the station!"

Chapter 145 Sixth Grade Course Selection

Milison walked at the front, her steps as light as a cheerful little bird.

In fact, she was taller and stronger than before, with much more defined muscles in her arms, and her exposed skin was tanned to an even dark brown.

—She is more like a strong female eagle than a little bird.

“These past two months, we’ve been to Italy, Egypt, Argentina, and China!” Milison kept talking. “At first, I was a junior assistant following my teacher around. Around the time of the Argentina event, I started…”

Daphne asked, "I've heard that Chinese wizards are different from British wizards?"

“It’s different in Egypt,” Milison said, speaking off the cuff. “In Egypt, shamans are called priests, and they believe that magical power comes from the gods. So, they have to perform a ritual before the competition!”

“As for China… the competition is being held in Shanghai.” Milison scratched his head. “Chinese wizards are quite unique; they practice swordplay on the lawn before dawn every day.”

"Sword dancing?" Praris asked curiously. "A duel so early in the morning?"

Milison shook his head: "No, they combine swordsmanship with dance; one person can wield a sword. It's also a way for them to exercise."

She said, "Chinese wizards believe that one cannot lose their fighting ability even without a wand. Otherwise, they will be bullied by other factions."

Therefore, being struck by a disarming spell does not signify the end of the battle in the eyes of Chinese shamans, but rather the beginning of hand-to-hand combat.