HP North Star's Radiance

Praris quickly recalled Draco's unusual behavior earlier that day. Clearly, Voldemort was again pressuring Draco in some way to speed up the repairs of the Vanishing Cabinet and let the Death Eaters in.

perhaps……

Praris stood in the underground corridor, looking at the flickering firelight, the ancient murals and sculptures, and the school where she had lived for nearly six years.

Perhaps, after so much hesitation and struggle, she should finally tell Dumbledore about the Vanishing Cabinet to prevent Hogwarts from falling into ruin.

Before love, she was first and foremost Praris.

It was Hogwarts that changed her destiny, giving her the opportunity to truly become a wizard and to have genuine friends...

Hermione from Gryffindor, despite their differing stances, transcended the prejudices between the houses and maintained a long-term relationship with Prader, bravely offering her trust.

Myrtle from Ravenclaw and her young boyfriend Barron have generously helped Prarese on many occasions.

Jones of Hufflepuff, Astoria's good friend, always greets Praris happily, regardless of everyone else's stares, whenever they meet.

Professor Sprout, the headmaster of Hufflepuff, showed Praris a lot of warmth when she first entered the school, always supporting her potion research with rare herbs.

When Prarese was feeling down, the African astronomy professor Sinista tenderly offered her his own wine, leaving Prarese alone to enjoy it—it's unclear whether he was more concerned about the wine or Prarese.

Most of the wizards in these other colleges are from Muggle families.

And in Slytherin, there were her good friends Pansy, Milison, Daphne, her little sister Astoria, and Meryl and others who adored her.

The students at Hogwarts don't have any obvious differences in their clothing. If they were let in a mindless werewolf who preys on children, how could Praris trust that they could accurately identify Slytherins?

How could Prarese possibly believe that the Muggle witch Hermione and the younger Jones would be safe? After all, Grace could have avoided such danger, but she chose to stay behind to be with her Slytherin friends.

Most importantly, it's about herself.

Praris Prince, a mixed-race woman.

Regardless of whether the Death Eaters have a way to distinguish between purebloods and hybrids, Praris will be in danger.

She took a deep breath, turned back to Professor Snape's office, and said seriously, "Sir, I need to see Headmaster Dumbledore. What is the new password?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, signaling her to give a reason.

“I think I know something,” Praris said softly, “about your stagnant mission.”

"How delightful." Snape narrowed his eyes and chuckled. "Should I say... you've finally decided to take your brilliant mind out of the pool of love and shake it dry?"

Snape decided to personally take Prarese to the headmaster's office to hear what earth-shattering things his good students were up to.

Prarese followed behind Professor Snape, and the familiar feeling was just like when she was first taken to Diagon Alley.

However, back then, Professor Snape seemed so tall to her small, thin self, but now she no longer needed to look up at him.

Surprisingly, Prarese, who hadn't walked long distances behind Professor Snape in a long time, noticed that the professor was walking much slower than his usual brisk pace.

Suddenly remembering something, Praris said, "Sir, I'm all grown up now."

Snape stopped and looked back at her.

Praris said softly, "I mean, I've been able to keep up with your pace."

Snape didn't respond to her words, only grunted and quickened his pace to walk forward.

As they approached the second floor, a shrill female voice suddenly rang out from upstairs: "Murder! Murder in the bathroom! Murder!"

Praris's eyes widened: "It's Myrtle!"

Before she could finish speaking, Professor Snape dashed out like a black lightning bolt.

Praris quickly followed, stumbling and rushing towards the source of the sound. A thought flashed through her mind: Why was Myrtle in the boys' restroom?

"Don't come in!" Snape suddenly shouted from inside the bathroom to Praris outside.

Without a second thought, Praris stopped in his tracks at the entrance of the men's restroom.

"Sir?" Praris asked nervously, "What happened?"

Seemingly hearing Prarese's voice, Myrtle stretched out her hand and flew out of the bathroom, lunging at Prarese, but quickly passed right through her.

Myrtle paused, then realized that she was actually a ghost and couldn't touch anyone at all—she hadn't felt this way in a long time since she met Baron.

"Prai!" Myrtle quickly started crying and screaming again, "Murder! Murder inside!"

Prarees quickly reassured Myrtle, "Myrtle, it'll be alright, Professor Snape is here—sir, is anyone injured? I have some white cinnabar, hemostatic agents, and blood tonics with me!"

Prarese rummaged into his bag and called out to Professor Snape, but received no response.

“Go find Baron first, okay?” Praris said to the sobbing Myrtle. “Tell him that someone here is injured and to prepare to treat them.”

Praris casually gave Myrtle something to do to keep her from crying and causing trouble.

As time passed, Prarese faintly heard conversations inside. One voice was Professor Snape, and the other sounded somewhat familiar.

After a long silence, Professor Snape's voice came from inside: "Come in, and calm down!"

Who's inside?

Why did she need to remain calm?

Various doubts flashed through Praris's mind, but left no trace—she seemed to have become stupid.

Blood, blood everywhere...

That morning, the boy who had been holding her tightly collapsed to the ground, convulsing. Blood-red liquid spread out from him, like a magnificent yet bizarre painting.

Praris could see no one and collapsed to her knees. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, almost in sync with her lover's. Even so, she clutched the three vials of potion tightly, as if they were her life.

“A blood tonic,” Snape said in a deep voice.

Prarese mechanically handed over the bottle with his left hand.

Snape uncorked the bottle and poured the blood-replenishing potion into Draco's mouth.

Snape added, "White."

Praris stiffly handed over the white saffron essence in his right hand.

Snape then poured the white powder on Draco's face.

Suddenly, Praris seemed to be activated by something. She jumped up, smashing the bottle of hemostatic agent on the ground, where it mixed with Draco's blood.

"Praris!"

Snape reprimanded his student in a low voice.

At the same moment, Prarese's wand was already pointed at Harry's terrified and panicked face.

"Put down your wand!" Snape said coldly. "I don't have a second hand to carry someone to the infirmary!"

Prareas's face was unusually calm. She said, "Sir, he has angered me. No one else has hurt Draco, so I cannot retaliate in kind."

Prarese could cast the spell in a second; all she could recall was how to return the same wounds to Harry Potter.

Of course, she knew what it was!

"Divine Sharpness Without Shadow" was the professor's spell in that book, "Advanced Potion Making"—she was sure the professor knew what the spell was.

Potter! How could he... how could he use Professor Snape's spell on Draco! This is a blatant provocation to the two Princes present!

Yes, she had never used the spell, but she believed she could perfectly replicate the misdeeds Potter had done to Draco!

"Enough!" Snape said irritably. "I didn't send you here to cause me trouble!"

As soon as Snape finished speaking, a silent spell shot towards Harry.

Harry hadn't expected Prader to actually attack him, much less that she would cast the spell so quickly. Guilt over his wrongdoing slowed his reaction, and he frantically raised his wand.

However, before Harry could cast his spell, Praris's attack was deflected mid-air by another spell.

"Praris Prince!"

Snape roared at Praris.

This was the first time Snape addressed Prarese by his full name, and also the first time he addressed Prarese by his surname.

He was truly glad he had always been wary of this crazy girl!

Ignoring Snape's anger, Prass stared straight at Harry and said coldly, "It seems I have to admit I misjudged him—I truly regret what I did."

After saying that, she looked at Snape and said calmly, "Sir, I don't think I did anything wrong. The only mistake I made was that I didn't succeed."

After all, this was a spell invented by Professor Snape, and no one knew better than him how to solve it.

“Punish me however you want!” Praris said stubbornly, her eyes red. “Anyway, if anyone did that to you, I would do the same.”

Snape had originally wanted Prarese to stay here and watch over Potter, but now it was clear he couldn't do that.

Otherwise, when he returns, only Myrtle will be happy. She'd be happy to share the toilet with either of them.

Snape made a wise decision: Prarese helped Draco to the infirmary.

Draco was taller than Prares, but Prares didn't seem to think he was any heavier.

Perhaps it was the torment of these past few days that made him thin, or perhaps it was his remaining consciousness that was still cooperating with Praris's movements.

Praliss suddenly felt a sense of relief. If she had never had the idea of ​​telling Dumbledore the truth, would Draco have died silently in the bathroom?

She then realized that wasn't actually the case. If she hadn't agreed to Dumbledore's plan to fake his death, Professor Snape probably wouldn't have been waiting for her in his office, and perhaps Draco could have been saved.

Prareas forgot how he got to the school infirmary and how he handed Draco over to Baron.

It took her a while to remember that she had placed Draco on the stretcher that Baron had brought in the corridor.

Ms. Pomfrey patted her back gently: "Child, you did a great job, you gave her all the necessary medication. Even if I were here, I couldn't have done any better..."

People who consider themselves always rational are foolish.

Praris suddenly had this thought.

All composure and self-control are temporary; a person can only be rational when they are truly in pain.

After carefully treating Draco's wound, Baron walked over to Praris and asked cautiously in a soft voice, "Praris, shall I apply some medicine for you?"

“Me?” Praris said blankly, “My blood is Draco’s.”

She must have looked quite disheveled.

Otherwise, how could Baron have thought she was injured as well?

Baron's gaze softened as he pointed to Praris's lower body: "No, I meant your knees."

Praris then looked down and saw her scraped knee. The wound was terrible, a mixture of her own blood, Draco's blood, and dirty water from the bathroom.