HP North Star's Radiance

Ron likes her?

If Ron had invited her and said those words before the Triwizard Tournament ball, Hermione might have been overjoyed. But Hermione was only angry now, very, very angry, to the point that she had calmed down.

She touched her forehead, looked at Ron, and said in an unusually calm tone, "No, Ron, I don't regret it. Even if Viktor and I couldn't stay together, I would never regret it."

Hermione and Krum are in a cross-cultural relationship. They have an age and geographical gap, but Hermione never feels that there is too much distance between her and Krum.

Krum kept saying he hoped Hermione would "think things through," but letters kept arriving. The former was rational, the latter emotional.

Krum is more mature than Hermione, but he sometimes displays a pessimistic outlook. He feels that Hermione only admires certain traits in him, traits that are also found in Hermione's peers, not necessarily in him.

"Then why did you write me so many letters?" Hermione replied quickly. "If you don't trust me, why did you write to me at all? You two-faced bastard!"

In his reply, Krum wrote: "Hermione, forgive me for having feelings for you that I shouldn't have."

"I told myself that I just hoped you could be happy while you still liked me... although I don't know if that's really true."

When Hermione received the letter, she twirled around happily like a cheerful little bird.

Regardless of whether this relationship ends well or badly, Hermione still feels it was worthwhile. Viktor hadn't spoken this much in years, yet he gave all his speaking quota to Hermione.

Hermione believes that as long as both of them cherish this relationship, there is nothing to regret.

“The relationship between wizards and witches is more than just love,” Hermione said, emphasizing each word. “Ron, in my eyes, you and Harry are the same. You are both my good friends—nothing more.”

Hermione took a deep breath and continued, "I'm glad you know you're wrong, but you don't seem to really know where you went wrong."

"Courage is not recklessness, nor is it impulsiveness, nor is it making decisions casually. Whether it is friendship or love, it must be sincere, and you must truly keep the other person in your heart."

"I hope you can think carefully about your relationship with Lavender."

After saying that, Hermione stood up and left the school infirmary without looking back.

Ron stared blankly at the ancient dome of the school infirmary. He couldn't even remember what he had just said; all he felt was a profound sense of exhaustion and powerlessness.

Just then, a rustling sound came from the bed next to him. Ron turned his head and saw a hand gripping the edge of the bed tightly.

Harry gripped the edge of the bed with one hand and supported his injured head with the other, struggling to get up.

He had just gotten up when he met Ron's eyes. Harry scratched his head and laughed, "Hey Ron, guess what? I fell off the bed while I was sleeping! Ouch—my head!"

Ron forced a smile: "Your head has been hit harder than the ball!"

Harry grinned and said, "I hope I don't turn into an idiot..."

Hermione ran quickly down the hallway after leaving the school infirmary.

She ran across the second-floor corridor, down the stairs, out of the castle, and all the way to the shore of the Black Lake.

Hermione wanted to talk to Viktor and Prarese about her complicated feelings that she couldn't explain, but Viktor wasn't around, so she could only instinctively take out her two-way mirror.

She caused Praris so much trouble that sometimes she felt annoyed with herself, but Praris never complained about her.

After having Viktor, Hermione preferred to wait for letters from afar rather than bother the busy Prares, unless it was extremely urgent.

The two-way mirror lit up quickly, and Hermione discovered that Prairie wasn't underground—she could see the sky above her through the mirror.

"Hermione?" Praris composed herself. "What happened?"

Hermione keenly noticed the weariness in his eyes. Even during his recent busy period, Praris hadn't shown this kind of dejection.

“No, no,” Hermione said softly. “I just wanted you to stay with me for a while.”

April in Scotland is a rare sunny day.

Looking out from the lake, everything is lush and green, and the sky is a pure blue that stretches endlessly into the distance, with only a few thin clouds. The wind gently ripples across the lake's surface, brushes past Hermione, and also brushes past Praris on the Astronomy Tower.

They remained silent, keeping each other company in silence.

From the vast blue sky, it remained silent until the sky turned orange-red.

“Prareth, you know what?” Hermione’s voice came from the mirror, “A French pilot once said that people like sunsets when they are sad.”

Prarese stood by the window of the Astronomy Tower, two empty bottles on the table behind her. Looking down, she saw Hermione's shadow stretched long and long by the lake.

“The sun is setting, Hermione,” Prarese’s voice was muffled. “It will take our troubles with it.”

"—And tomorrow will be a brand new day."

Hermione repeated Prareas's words: "Tomorrow is another day."

Hermione had a vague feeling that her relationship with Prader was subtly changing. She was no longer the little girl who would just chatter on and on to Prader.

She can process her own feelings, and she can also see Praris's feelings, and accompany Praris just as Praris once accompanied her.

Time pushes people forward, regardless of what people think.

For the next few days, Praris enjoyed a period of peace.

She both hoped Harry could extract Slughorn's memories, yet she didn't want him to succeed. After all, success meant that the plan she didn't want to see could be put into action at any time.

"Draco!" Crabbe appeared out of nowhere, frowning. "Why are you still lingering here? We should... you know that!"

Draco, eyes closed, leaned against Praris, sitting beneath a beech tree. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the two of them. A breeze stirred, and they danced like golden sprites.

Praris, whom he was leaning against, held a book. She read slowly, "The world is becoming more and more beautiful… I ask for nothing more than to be bathed in sunlight. I yearn for maturity. Prepared to die, prepared to be reborn…"*

Her voice wasn't exactly pleasant, but its gentle rhythm, combined with the April breeze, made Draco drowsy.

Crabbe's arrival shattered the gentle tranquility, causing Draco to frown.

He opened his eyes, rolled them in annoyance, and stood up from the grass with one hand, brushing off the leaves and twigs from his clothes.

Just when Crabbe thought Draco was leaving, Draco squatted down, lowered his head, touched Praris's ear with his lips, and whispered, "I'm leaving."

Crabbe clicked his tongue in exasperation.

I can't stand these two love-obsessed people!

What Crabbe didn't see was that Prares's gaze passed over Draco's shoulder and landed on him unfriendly.

Disrupting other people's good time is such a spoilsport!

Crabbe felt a chill run down his spine, but he wasn't smart enough to realize someone was about to stab him in the eye, so he stupidly left with Draco.

Chapter 181 What Men Do

Draco and Crabbe walked away.

Praris stuffed the book he was reading into his bag and pulled out a tattered copy of "Advanced Potion Making".

"This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince"

Just as she had thought, this was the professor's book.

Prarese sat there under the beech tree, turning the pages of the book one by one, revisiting her mentor's youth.

She imagined how this man, who was like a father to her, had diligently studied and researched during his impoverished student days, gradually building up his reputation as a "Potion Master".

She imagined his youthful pride, how boldly he revised those texts that are still regarded as classics today, and his high spirits.

Praris sat there for a very long time, until he had read every nook and cranny of the book, before he stood up.

She wanted to return the book to its owner.

Saturday wasn't exactly a good day, but Professor Snape just happened to be away.

Praris pushed the door open and went in without any hesitation. Once she was sure no one was inside, she opened the bookshelf, took out the novels at the front, and stuffed "Advanced Potion Making" into the back.

Then, she put all the novels back in their original places, leaving only "The Precious Magical Plant Atlas," which she hadn't finished reading last time.

"Is that you?" Snape's voice came from behind Praris.

Just as Prarese was about to close the office door, he heard Professor Snape's voice.

She slowly raised the book in her hand and waved it at Snape: "Sir, I haven't finished reading it yet."

“Let me know before you come next time,” Snape said, glancing at the book in her hand.

"Sir," Praris said jokingly, "there's no second Barty Crouch in the school."

“But there are some unruly students,” Snape said sarcastically. “Aren’t there?”

Prarese knew the professor wasn't talking about her, but about Harry, his two friends, and his companions. She shrugged and said, "As you wish."

Snape walked past her into his office, while Pralis carried her books upstairs. Such good books needed a good teacher, and she planned to audit Professor Sprout's private lessons.

Before Praris even reached the glass house, he was suddenly pulled into the bushes by a hand reaching out.

“Do you want to die?” Praris said viciously to Harry. “I almost blew a hole in your stomach!”

"Shh!"

Harry held up a finger, signaling Praris to be quiet. He then rummaged through his pocket and pulled a piece of parchment—the Marauder's Map!

As Harry unfolded the map, he retorted, "Looks like I should thank you for stopping in time, otherwise I would be in the hospital again."

“You deserve to go in again!” Praris said righteously.

“Alright!” Harry unfolded the parchment and gestured for Prader to look. “Look, Malfoy isn’t on the parchment.”

"Well, and then?" Praris said nonchalantly.

“I guess he’s in the Room of Requirement,” Harry reasoned. “I’ve never seen the Room of Requirement on a map.”

Praris didn't know about this beforehand. If she had known beforehand, she might have had another theory about Monta, making it harder to ascertain the truth.

"And then?" Praris said in an indifferent tone. "What does that have to do with me?"

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said seriously. “The fact that you didn’t mock me for being stupid means my guess was correct.”

Prarese looked at Harry with a strange expression.

What's going on in this guy's head?

How could anyone have come up with such an abnormal yet effective verification method?

“Your ideas are truly extraordinary,” Praris scoffed. “Do I need to praise you?”

“No.” Harry’s gaze suddenly turned sympathetic. “That’s not what I wanted to tell you, but you have to swear you won’t be angry after you hear it.”

Praris had a bad feeling: "On what grounds do I swear?"

“Then I won’t say,” Harry immediately replied.

Praris sneered: "I use Legilimency."