HP North Star's Radiance

Praris's hands were like an octopus, one hand grasping dragon blood, the other phoenix ash, one hand grasping snake venom, and the other... the other hand grasping the Riem cow.

It was like spinning himself around like a top, turning him from one crucible to another.

Half an hour later, all the crucibles were stopped.

Praris sat at the lab table without any regard for his image, like a little wizard who had "saved up his allowance for weeks to buy Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, only to find they tasted like boogers"—utterly dejected.

Alright, Praris suddenly stood up and clenched his fist to encourage himself.

Your friend, the Toad Butcher, is now online!

Eight potion bottles of different colors were lined up in a row, each containing a small bottle of magic potion, with the ingredients for each bottle labeled on it.

Praris was like someone who had been killing fish in Southend for ten years, wielding a toad in one hand and a knife in the other, his movements swift and decisive, without even blinking.

The Dragonblood version's new legs are strong but too short. The Phoenix Gray version's new legs are of suitable length but thin. The Horned Beast version's new legs are robust and long enough, but mutated and twisted. The Loba Worm version's toad has died. The Reem Bull version's toad hasn't grown new legs, but its body is stronger than before its legs were broken.

The only creature with healthy and appropriately long new legs is the toad that drank the snake venom version of the regeneration potion.

Her experiment...was a success?

Praris was somewhat dazed and slumped limply in the chair.

The experiment lasted for three whole months, and Prarese spent almost her entire life going between classes, sleeping, and experiments. She ate whatever was convenient—after all, she'd grown up eating black bread, so there was no way she'd starve now.

Initially, Prarese and Slughorn borrowed a dozen or so longhorn toads, but that was far from enough. Some toads had suffered more than one broken leg, and Prarese even considered targeting their forelimbs.

When reporting on the progress of the experiment, Professor Snape's forehead veins throbbed, and he promised to provide her with more long-horned toads.

To date, a total of 52 longhorn toads have died in the experiments, about four times the expected number.

Other expensive herbs and animal-derived materials were countless, and Professor Snape and her Galleons flowed out like water.

Even more critically, time was of the essence. The longer Prares's experiment dragged on, the greater the pressure on Professor Snape to control the curse.

Prarese had to squeeze out time for experiments, like squeezing toothpaste, between her studies and some necessary social interactions.

While eating, attending classes, and lying in bed, she would devote some of her attention to figuring out exactly where the problem lay in the experiment.

He appears to be clear-headed, but is actually in a daze.

Prarese was never the type of student who took notes; her brain was her notebook.

However, the experiment was accompanied by too many setbacks, repeated doubts about his decision, and countless revisions.

Purposeful potion research is different from ordinary experimental development. Praris develops potions that interest him, and even if he doesn't achieve his goal but unexpectedly discovers potions with other effects, that's still a bonus.

The renewable agent has only one goal, and failure is not an option.

This forced Prarese to find a notebook, which he filled with experimental records and all sorts of ideas.

Every page of the notebook was written in a messy, flowing cursive script, like a comic book by Gao Er.

No one but herself could understand it.

Like an old witch in the eyes of Muggles, she hides herself underground all day, soaking in bubbling potions, where sleep is a luxury, and she also experiences separation from her lover.

The experiment is now largely complete, with only some adjustments needed for its application to real people.

Some emotions suppressed by "serious business" sprouted out like weeds breaking through the soil.

Oh, she and Draco broke up?

Last night, seeing the proud Draco in such an embarrassing situation, Praris didn't hesitate to say that he had invited him.

She had just told Professor Snape that she had nothing to do with Draco.

And she knew perfectly well what good things Draco was doing!

FUCK!

This is terrible! How can her heart beat her reason faster than her mind?

Praris hadn't styled her hair in a long time, letting her long, black hair hang loose. Feeling terrible, she haphazardly fiddled with her hair, her movements rougher than petting a dog.

Alright, what was Professor Snape's book about again?

"The life and death of a sparrow are predetermined by fate. If it's destined for today, it won't be tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then today."

Professor Snape's predetermined day for disciplining his students was either tomorrow or today.

Praris stood up again, washed the potion bottle, and whistled as he divided the potion in the cauldron into three portions.

Fate, oh fate.

Good luck tricks people.

Voldemort kept a basilisk at the school, intending for it to kill people. However, the basilisk's venom became a potion that allowed Dumbledore to break free from his curse.

Even if it's just a sparrow, fate gives it a chance to live, doesn't it?

Chapter 160 Christmas Gifts

During Christmas, the castle corridors are so empty that you can hear echoes.

The calls of snow buntings could be heard intermittently above ground, but underground, only the crackling of torches burning on the walls could be heard.

Three years ago, at a Christmas lunch, Trelawney made a prediction that thirteen diners would die.

Three years later, around the same time, Prares developed a limb regeneration agent.

The strange thing about fate is that people see destiny as a cry from an empty valley. Years later, when they revisit the same place, they can faintly hear the cry from the past.

Praris, carrying a small basket for gathering herbs, pushed open the door to the potions office.

What must be, must be.

What's meant to come will come.

Praris pushed open the wooden door to his office and said with a grin, "Merry Christmas, sir!"

After saying that, she held up the basket and said cheerfully, "Your Christmas present."

Professor Snape's office is perhaps the least Christmassy place in all of Hogwarts.

He was like a bat hiding in a dark cave, refusing the sunlight, only spreading his dark wings at night.

Prarese placed the basket on Professor Snape's desk and strolled over to find his own chair by the cupboard.

"Miss, the best gift you can give me is to stop spying on my storeroom..."

In the early stages of the experiment, Snape was not alert and let her wander around the storeroom like a supermarket.

Towards the end of the experiment, Snape's patience was nearing its limit.

Think about it, what did Praris take?

Dragon blood, powdered horns of horned beasts, venom sacs of lobotomus... those were all Snape's private treasures!

As Snape spoke, he casually waved his wand, and the cloth covering the basket was lifted, revealing a vial inside that glowed with an evil blackish-green light.

Praris blinked her large eyes and said in a low voice, "Sir, as you wish."

Snape narrowed his eyes, abruptly stood up, strode to the storeroom, and quickly found a suitable live test subject. He cleaned the equipment, amputated the subject's limbs, and then administered the potion.

Throughout the entire experiment, Snape didn't utter a single word, focusing all his attention on the potion.

This is simply a magnificent miracle created by a magic potion!

After being given the potion, the severed limbs grew at an astonishing rate, like bamboo shoots sprouting from the soil after rain, growing segment by segment upwards.

The newly grown limbs are still quite tender, feeling as smooth as a baby's skin, and the bones are also quite soft.

Prareas explained to Professor Snape, "If it's a toad, it only takes a few hours to recover some strength. But if it's a human, the recovery time will be many times longer."

How long can a toad's legs be?

How long is a human arm?

Expecting human manpower to recover as quickly as a horned toad—Plares suggests dreaming instead; anything is possible in dreams.

Snape's expression changed rapidly, and he finally nodded heavily: "Very good, very good."

Snape was stingy with his praise, but Prares's research was different—it would surely go down in history.

The importance of limb regeneration potions in potion research is self-evident, and their impact is astonishing, yet she accomplished it in just three months.

Dumbledore had many concerns about this plan. Was he really that eager to die? Maybe half.

But the more realistic reason is that developing a potion to regenerate severed limbs is extremely difficult! Dumbledore found it hard to believe that such a young student could successfully develop a potion to regenerate severed limbs in such a short time.

Think about it, if this were really that easy, a limb regeneration drug would have been developed long ago, and future generations would only need to follow the clues. What would be there to worry about?

"What materials were used?" Snape asked briefly.

Praris blinked, carefully averted his gaze, and replied in a voice barely above a whisper, "It's snake venom."

Snape frowned and asked again, "What? Are the house-elves on strike at Hogwarts today?!"

The kitchen was where house-elves were cooking, and Snape was essentially yelling at her, "Haven't you eaten? Why are you so quiet!"

“Sir, the basilisk’s venom,” Praris said.

No wonder no one had ever developed a potion to regenerate severed limbs before. Who else but the despicable Helbo and the descendants of Slytherin could possess a basilisk?

There may be other materials that can replace the effects of basilisk venom, but such research will have to wait until Praris has time.

Now, dealing with the curse on Dumbledore is the top priority.

Snape paused for a second, then quickly recovered and sneered, "Ah, the famous Harry Potter is here to save the world again?"

“No, sir.” Praris shook his head. “This is what I earned through my labor…you know, from some teaching activities last year.”

Snape looked puzzled. "Really? I heard from Slughorn that Potter has some talent in Potions... Miss, do you have any thoughts on this?"

“Ah, I’ve already defeated him, sir,” Praris said with a smile. “It doesn’t matter.”

People always challenge those who are stronger than themselves; what's there to care about losing?

As long as Harry remains Prasris's defeated opponent, it doesn't matter to Prasris who he copies—unless Harry copies Professor Snape and her own work.

Snape raised an eyebrow and asked softly, "That's not important? Then you want to talk to me about something important...like Draco."

Praris really wanted to go back to the moment before and shut up the person who had said the previous sentence.

“Uh…” Praris stammered, “I’m not lying to you, sir. Draco and I have nothing to do with each other now, it’s just… we can’t just watch him get locked up by Filch, can we?”