HP North Star's Radiance

China has a long history, and the country's shamans have always been shrouded in mystery.

Wizards are born wizards, but in China, there are other people who are not wizards but can also acquire mystical powers through acquired means—all it takes is comprehension.

The English word "savvy" means "comprehension," "intelligence," and "wit."

This seems to suggest that if you are smart enough, you can possess extraordinary power.

The Chinese sorceress Wenwen Wang, who received them, shook her head repeatedly, indicating that Milison had misunderstood and that comprehension and intelligence were not closely related.

But what exactly is "comprehension"?

Wang couldn't explain it clearly either, let alone provide a detailed explanation. She stated that further explanation might involve their country's secrets.

Upon hearing this, the guide immediately changed the subject and asked about other local customs and traditions.

The requirements for competing in China are far stricter than those in other countries.

Therefore, China rarely acts as the host country; instead, athletes often travel to other countries to compete.

This Quidditch match was a trial run for the Chinese Ministry of Magic after the reform and opening up.

Milison and her teachers underwent rigorous checks before entering the country, and each wizard looked very serious.

But after entering the country, the Chinese shaman became friendly.

After the match, Wang took them to see a house where ancient Chinese people lived, called Yu Yuan. Millison felt that it didn't feel like a place to live, but more like a very large park.

Milison had already distributed her gifts in the car, but Praris was still in Draco's compartment.

Now, Milison handed Praris a pink tin box with patterns of ancient Chinese women.

“Mooncake!” Millison said with a grin. “Wang said this is the best, Xinghualou mooncake!”

After saying that, Milison took out some yogurt sticks and White Rabbit candies and placed them on the tin box.

Millison said happily, "China's food is so delicious! After graduation, the four of us will go to China together."

Shanghainese love sweets, and so does Milison. When Milison arrived in Shanghai, it was like a mouse falling into a rice jar—he was so happy he forgot all about England.

“Sure! We can ask Stella to help us with the registration then.” Praris said, holding the metal box. “That will make it easier to leave the country.”

Wizards traveling abroad through official channels always need to go through the Ministry of Magic; otherwise, international disputes can easily arise. Stella happens to work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so she can be of assistance.

Upon entering the auditorium, Praris didn't even glance at Draco before sitting down directly.

Pansy nudged Praris: "Draco's watching you!"

"Why are you looking at me?" Praris suddenly changed his expression and said coldly, "I'm not the Dark Lord, I don't need his loyalty all the time!"

Pansy was startled and quickly looked around, saying urgently, "Do you know what you're saying? Please, Pray, don't be like Millison!"

Praris sighed and apologized to Pansy, "Panpan, it's my fault—we'll talk about it later! Dumbledore has something to say."

Her heart was like a small boat adrift on the sea, rising and falling with the waves, while thunder and lightning raged overhead.

There are some things she doesn't want to think about, and she forces herself to clear her mind by chatting.

But now she had to calm down, and some suppressed thoughts surfaced again.

Draco once said that he was given a "mission".

He also said that he might not be in school next year and would no longer care about his OWLs and NEWT grades.

He was proud that he had the opportunity to restore his family's former glory.

The last time he mentioned "restoring the family's glory" was when it came to Voldemort's resurrection.

"I bet he's become a Death Eater—"

Harry's voice echoed in her mind.

"You should know you're not even an adult yet!"

Zabini, whom she used to dislike, actually said something that could comfort her at this moment.

Logically, she thought Harry was more likely; emotionally, she preferred to believe Zabini, whom she didn't like as much.

Maybe this is just a small misunderstanding?

Draco isn't even an adult yet! His mother loves him so much, how could she let him become a Death Eater?

Prarese was flustered; she dared not look at Draco, nor did she want to analyze him.

As long as the box remains unopened, she will never know what's inside. As long as she doesn't think, analyze, or ask, she will never know whether Draco has become a Death Eater.

Escape is shameful, but useful.

"Running away from problems will never solve them."

Praris's rationality attempts to awaken her self-deceiving self.

Just then, Dumbledore's voice rang out from the teachers' table: "...Slughorn, a former colleague of mine, is willing to return to his old profession and become the Potions Professor!"

Praris looked up in astonishment.

This means...

The auditorium suddenly became as noisy as a Quidditch match, with everyone talking at once about it.

"What courses will Professor Snape teach?" Pansy asked, seemingly knowing the answer but actually disbelieving her own guess.

As if in response to Pansy's question, Dumbledore announced loudly, "Meanwhile, Professor Snape will be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"

Prareus immediately looked at Professor Snape, who showed no excitement whatsoever, but instead lazily raised his hand with an air of self-righteousness.

“Plares! Did you hear that?!” Millison patted Plaares’ arm excitedly. “Professor Snape has become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor… uh, aren’t you happy?”

Prareus forced a smile: "Happy—how could I not be happy for Professor Snape?"

Everything spiraled out of control, like a landslide.

Winnie is being hunted, Draco is suspected of becoming a Death Eater, and Professor Snape has become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—a position widely considered cursed.

Prareas clearly saw that Dumbledore's fingers, which were pressed against the table, were a charcoal-black color.

What could possibly hurt Dumbledore?

Just a month ago, the Dumbledore she saw was healthy and had no such strange injuries!

When she left Gringotts, she was convinced that everything was going in a good direction.

Ms. Priscilla and Winnie survived, though their health had declined considerably. She and Dumbledore then destroyed the tiara and the cup, a fact Voldemort likely had no idea of.

But now?

Pansy patted Praris on the shoulder: "I think you're thinking about something, but I have to call you now."

Praris was pulled out of her own world and stared blankly at Pansy: "What's wrong?"

Panci nodded and gestured to Praris with his eyes: "Look!"

Draco stood with his arms crossed, his face expressionless, among the new Slytherin students. The light shone down on Draco's head, casting a shadow below his brow.

Even though he was standing and Praris was sitting, he kept his head down and his eyes fixed on Praris.

Every part of Draco's body seemed to say – he was "unhappy".

Normally, Praris would indeed be generous in coaxing him.

But now? Praris isn't in the mood for that.

She stood up and walked quickly toward Draco.

The new students immediately moved forward, causing Draco to move relatively from the middle of the group to the end of the line.

Praris reached out and patted him on the back: "Let's go, don't waste time."

Draco's gaze shifted from her to her arm.

After about two or three seconds, he snorted and said, "Isn't it you who's wasting time?"

Praris casually remarked, "Isn't it because you're here?"

Draco bit his lip, revealing a barely perceptible smile: "Of course."

After speaking, Draco cleared his throat and told the students to follow him.

Praris didn't do anything along the way; Draco took care of everything.

Guiding new students is indeed a task that a prefect can easily accomplish—so what role does Prarese play here?

A mascot? Praris was completely baffled.

After breakfast the next morning, it was time for the sixth-grade students to choose their courses.

At this point, the college dean will check the student's OWLs to determine if the student is eligible to enter the advanced class, and then select courses according to the student's wishes.

Professor Snape seemed to have known his grades all along, only asking about her course preferences: "Potions, Herbalism, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Praris nodded: "Yes."

"No divination or ancient scripture?" Snape asked.

Ah, that's a subject her mother excels at.

Prareas had assumed that Professor Snape's attitude towards Sylvia was nothing more than undisguised disgust! He never expected that Snape would remember Sylvia's special talent.

“If you ask,” Prarese said, “of course.”

Snape said coldly, "There is no such requirement—Miss, your schedule."

Prarese glanced at them; they were still the five courses she had chosen herself.

“Sir!” Prarese whispered as Snape passed by her, “May I ask you some questions this morning?”

Snape did not answer and continued to the next student.

After selecting his courses, Prarese went straight to Draco and snatched the timetable from his hand.

Draco, hands behind his back, chin held high, and smiled lazily at her: "What? Want to see if we've chosen the same course?"

Praris crouched down, leaned closer to him, and pointed to the contents of the timetable: "Why are there so few courses?"

Draco grinned and said, "Concerned about me?"

After saying that, he reached out to touch Praris's hair.

Praris pulled his hand down without hesitation: "Listen, Draco, I'm talking to you about serious matters."