HP North Star's Radiance

Snape fell silent, staring intently at her with a complex expression, but Prarese couldn't analyze it any further.

Her mind was in complete chaos, and she was no longer able to think clearly. She could only rely on instinct to save herself.

She stared intently at Professor Snape, her dark eyes reflecting his stiff face in the dim candlelight.

It felt like an eternity before Professor Snape finally said, "I think you'll know what you're supposed to do. Stay in Diagon Alley, and if I catch you wandering off even once..."

“I swear I won’t!” Praris said urgently.

When Praris walked out of the office, she realized she was covered in sweat, and her hands and feet were sore that she almost collapsed to the ground.

She leaned against the wall, taking deep, rhythmic breaths, trying to calm herself down.

"what."

"Haha."

"Hahaha."

Praris covered her face and squatted on the ground, unable to tell whether she was crying or laughing.

Some Slytherins would say she's arrogant, often using her intelligence to look down on others, while others would say, "That's just how smart people are!"

In fact, she was indeed an arrogant person. She even dared to act in front of the famously talented Snape, trying to gain his sympathy.

The most powerful lie in the world is one that deceives even oneself. In truth, she no longer cared about what she had experienced at the Maria Convent, despite the severe physical harm it caused her. She would never dwell on the tragedy of the past forever.

But only if she herself believes, believes that she is still afraid of all that, still deeply trapped in that pain, still that little girl stumbling through the snowy night, can she only pray for the Lord's mercy.

Only she could deceive herself, and ultimately deceive Snape.

She started planning this as soon as she finished the exam.

Prarese knew Snape would send her back to the convent, but she dared not think about it, as if it wouldn't happen if she didn't think about it.

Prarese once fantasized that she had gained Snape's approval, after all, she had completed all the tasks he required and even received 7 Os and 1 E.

In the end, however, she still had to sacrifice her pride and reveal her predicament in order to gain a shred of his sympathy and obtain her freedom.

Ultimately, Prareas perfectly embodied the role of "Prareas" and achieved his goal.

This battle is too exhausting.

Prareas drifted back to Slytherin like a ghost, lying in bed for the entire afternoon, unable to move.

At the Slytherin table.

"Where is that guy?" Malfoy suddenly asked.

Crabbe was completely bewildered: "Who?"

“Our Miss Wu Xi Ke,” Malfoy said in a sarcastic tone.

Milison rolled his eyes: "Please, she's just genuinely annoyed with you."

Malfoy scoffed, "Oh, Berthel, you haven't lost her again, have you? We'd better hurry and find Marcus to retrieve her!"

Milison finally understood why Praris found Malfoy annoying; who keeps bringing up old grievances every day?

Malfoy is like a housewife who has been married for ten years and still remembers the year her husband forgot to give her Valentine's Day chocolates when they were dating!

Milison didn't bother to say more: "She's not feeling well and is lying in her dorm. Don't worry, no more giants will pop up in the dorm."

Milison packed some bread and returned to the dormitory only to find that Praris was still the same as in the afternoon, without having moved an inch.

Millison asked worriedly, "Play, are you alright? I brought you pound cake and milk, would you like some?"

Praris had just woken up; her head felt heavy and painful, and her face felt a little dry.

The aftereffects were too strong; the acting went a bit overboard. She seemed to have cried, but she had no recollection of it.

“I don’t want to eat anything,” Praris paused, then, worried that Milison might be concerned, “Give me some milk.”

Praris finished his milk and then drifted off to sleep again.

Two days later, the year-end banquet arrived.

Marcus was overjoyed that Potter hadn't participated in the final Quidditch match, and that Ravenclaw had utterly crushed Gryffindor, in addition to a deduction of 150 points.

Currently, Slytherin is far ahead—by a full 180 points more than Gryffindor, who are in last place! Slytherin banners and decorations have already been hung in the Great Hall!

“Slytherin deserves this,” Malfoy said, chin in hand. “Even if Potter had participated, even if Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw, we wouldn’t have lost. Besides, he might not have won. I would say he was just lucky before.”

Pansy agreed, saying, "Draco is right, our victory is inevitable! Prince, can you stop looking like you've lost?"

Praris doesn't care what she says, or rather, she doesn't care about most of what she says. Currently, apart from those who know her identity, no one can harm her.

Did Professor Snape hurt her? Perhaps not. Although she felt nauseous and on the verge of madness during the performance that day, she didn't really want to reveal her past to anyone. It was like peeling off her skin and taking her heart out for people to see.

She was indeed an orphan, and she did have painful and unpleasant memories, but those things were in the past. She could even use those memories to help her escape the convent.

Everything that has happened should, or rather, should, benefit her present.

Suddenly, the auditorium fell silent, and everyone looked in one direction.

It's Harry Potter.

His presence here is like that of a leading actor standing under the spotlight on an opera stage.

The Slytherins fell silent for a moment, then resumed their loud discussion about the legends surrounding Potter.

“It’s so enviable, he’s a legend just standing there,” Milison remarked.

Chapter 20 Year-End Banquet

"Borsd, have you lost your mind?!" Malfoy said with a look of disgust. "You actually praised Potter! If those Gryffindors heard that, they'd laugh themselves to death!"

Daphne smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear: "Dumbledore is here."

Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore has arrived. He announced the scores of the four houses, a full 178 points higher than Gryffindor's lowest score.

The Slytherins cheered, as if the gloom of the semester had vanished.

Gore clapped excitedly, Malfoy banged his wine glass on the table, Daphne and Pansy hugged each other, Farley and Marcus gave each other a high five... even Praris and Milison held hands tightly.

"Looks like this year wasn't too bad," said a tall, thin boy diagonally across from Praris.

Noticing Prarese's confusion, Milison whispered in her ear, "That's Theodore Nott, a loner who's on good terms with Malfoy."

Compared to Slytherin's jubilation, the other three houses, especially Gryffindor, were in a very different state of mind.

Crabbe said to Malfoy, "I guarantee that guy is looking at you with hatred."

Malfoy laughed dismissively: "Oh? Is that so? Should I be honored to receive the attention of the savior?"

“That sounds like something Prince would say,” Marcus couldn’t help but glance at him.

The savior is obviously Harry Potter.

Praris, who was called out, waved his hand dismissively with his other hand.

However, Dumbledore did not finish his sentence, nor did he offer any further words of congratulations.

He then changed the subject: "However, several recent events cannot be excluded from this calculation."

Goyle and Malfoy both stopped what they were doing, though the wine glass was still in Malfoy's hand. Daphne released her grip on Pansy, and Farley and Marcus exchanged a glance. Millison, however, gripped Praris's hand even tighter.

What they all had in common was that the smiles on their faces had vanished.

Obviously, no one would be naive enough to think that Dumbledore's next words wouldn't affect Slytherin's honor.

The next few minutes were undoubtedly a nightmare for Slytherins.

In the first minute, Weasley scored fifty points for a nonsensical game of chess.

In the third minute, Granger scored fifty points for her logical reasoning.

In the fifth minute, Porter scored sixty points, thanks to his exceptional courage.

At this moment, every Slytherin was on edge, and Prareas could feel Millison about to break her hand.

They were only twenty points away from Gryffindor.

Milison's eyes reddened: "That's it, right? I don't think there'll be any more, right? All three of them have finished!"

Praris wanted to say no, after all, the banner was already up, wasn't it? To overturn the Slytherin number one ranking at this point would be too hurtful to the students!

But Prarese saw Dumbledore's expression and knew that this man wouldn't stop there.

This is absurd!

If he wanted Gryffindor to come in first place, he could have added it to the Gryffindor hourglass before all the decorations were set up, but instead he chose to slap Slytherin in the face when they were at their happiest.

Oh, or rather, to pump them up when Gryffindor is at its lowest point!

It's as if he's saying that he'll add back every single one of the 150 points that Prares reported and deducted, or even give more.

Prarese only hated herself for being so good at reading people's thoughts. This made her suffer more than those around her.

Sure enough, Dumbledore added twenty points to Longbottom's score, which just made Gryffindor two points ahead of Slytherin.

The cheers from Gryffindor nearly lifted the ceiling, while the Slytherins were so pale they could have blended in with ghosts.

In contrast to Gryffindor, the Slytherins were deathly silent, and even after returning to the common room, they couldn't utter a single word.

Marcus patted Farley on the shoulder; the girl had been crying the whole way.

He stood in the middle of the crowd, raised his hands, and exclaimed, "Everyone!"

All the Slytherins looked at Marcus, who cleared his throat: "Thank you all for your hard work this year. Whether you've worked hard to get extra points in class or fought your hardest in Quidditch, you are all the pride of the Slytherin badge."

"This year, as a prefect, I didn't do a good enough job. If I had won that Quidditch match, perhaps Slytherin could have won. I'm sorry everyone."

Stella scoffed: "Marcus, we're only two points apart. Don't take yourself too seriously. This has nothing to do with your wins or losses."

“Yes, you don’t blame me. In that case, no one needs to blame themselves.” Marcus took his partner Farley’s hand and raised it. “Slytherin will never be defeated by a single victory or defeat!”

Farley wiped his face with one hand and shouted, "We will win!"

Before long, the Slytherins dispersed, and they no longer seemed as dejected as they had been at the beginning.

But Malfoy still harbored resentment.

"See! See! Even if you get points deducted for stopping me from leaving, that old man can still add twenty points to Longbottom's score! He even adds points to Longbottom's score!"

Malfoy has been raging for half an hour now; I never realized he could keep up with his insults so long!