HP North Star's Radiance

Snape paused for a few seconds, then said dryly, "I can handle it!"

"But you, miss, are getting more and more capable—do you think you can do anything?" Snape quickly got to the point and began to reprimand Prarese, "Ah, you do whatever Dumbledore tells you to do! You think you can do anything and have no fear?"

"Is that what you think? Do you think I'm not afraid?" Praris said gently. "No, sir, I am afraid."

Her calm statement, "I'm scared," sounded utterly unconvincing.

Kopraris still maintains this, saying, "Of course I was scared. When I was almost bitten to death by Nagini, when I was almost bumped into by the Mystic."

"Of course, of course, and there was also the time I was waiting for news from you in the dorm. I was afraid I would die, and I was afraid you would die, I was afraid Draco would die, and I was afraid Winnie and Ms. Priscilla would die."

“Sir, you know better than I do that people don’t live just for themselves. I will live, but I would rather live in a world where you are there.”

Snape quickly turned his face away and said coldly, "You know what you're doing, no need to say such useless things."

“Sir,” Praris said, “I wish you all the best.”

After saying goodbye to Snape, Prarese turned off the two-way mirror.

She didn't ask Snape about Draco. She knew perfectly well that Lucius was out of prison and that she and her husband would protect their son.

Praris knew just as well that Draco's days were far from easy, as evidenced by Narcissa's appearance last night.

"That's very impolite." Praris looked towards the door. "Eavesdropping on other people's conversation."

Dumbledore said politely, “I apologize, Praris. But I must state that I never intended to do this; it's just that your house doesn't seem to be very soundproof.”

Ah, yes, that's true.

Otherwise, Praris wouldn't have been able to hear Dipple and Sylvia arguing so clearly.

Praris asked, "It seems I shouldn't waste my breath telling you?"

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Severus is always like that, valuing feelings, yet resisting the admission of them.”

That's precisely why Snape was able to become a master of Occlumency. Because he understood his own emotions so well and was so adept at suppressing them.

“I don’t care,” Prareus said, looking up at Dumbledore. “I can always understand his true feelings, can’t I?”

This might be difficult for others, but Snape was willing to scoop a spoonful from his own emotional well-being and share it with Prairie partly because of the peace of mind that came from saying one thing and meaning another without worrying about being misunderstood.

Some people are terrified of it, while others relish it.

Dumbledore's smile widened: "Tomorrow we'll go to Diagon Alley."

They need to find out where the locket went quickly, otherwise if the Horcrux falls back into Voldemort's hands, then Dumbledore and Pramanix will have essentially never been to Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Snape carefully put away the two-way mirror and hurried back to Malfoy Manor.

Many Death Eaters were injured in yesterday's battle and are relying on Snape's potions to heal them—come on, no one really thinks they'll go to St. Mungo's in droves for treatment!

After finishing this tedious work, Snape pushed open a heavy door, where some other core Death Eaters were already seated.

No one objected to Snape's lateness; in fact, a seat had been reserved for him.

“As you can see,” Voldemort’s cold voice rang out, “you are missing some people around you.”

“Unfortunately, yesterday we suffered a failed operation.” Voldemort’s voice was soft, like the hiss of some reptile, “because of the stupidity of some of you—and of course, because of my arrogance and contempt.”

No one thought Voldemort was reflecting on his actions; arrogance and contempt are the privileges of the strong.

“Those fools paid the price,” Voldemort said slowly. “But we also gained a new companion, a brilliant diviner. Wormtail, Wormtail, aren’t you going to say hello to your old classmate?”

A wizard in a wide cloak next to Voldemort took off his hat, revealing a skull-like head.

She was quite thin, with a pale complexion, sunken cheeks, and only a thin layer of skin and flesh clinging to her bones. Her gaze drifted and landed somewhere in the air.

Her thinness made her eyes and cheekbones protrude, and her eyes, with too much white in the black pupils, seemed to be staring blankly into the air, as if she hadn't heard Voldemort's words.

“Sylvia!”

Peter Pettigrew looked as if someone had stepped on his foot.

Chapter 206 Praris's Letter

Snape's expression changed rapidly in an instant, then quickly returned to calm.

He couldn't understand why, if Sylvia had really joined the Death Eaters, Voldemort only had Peter Pettigrew greet her, but didn't mention him at all!

What he couldn't understand was that Winnie and Sylvia had fallen out precisely because Winnie had been lured into joining the Death Eaters. Why was Sylvia now following in Winnie's footsteps?

The new Death Eater is actually a Gryffindor?

Although the Death Eaters dared not utter a single unnecessary word, their eyes were all incredibly noisy.

Voldemort was well aware of the various thoughts and intentions of his subordinates. He then announced to everyone Sylvia Prince's crime as the mother mantis—murdering her husband.

"Your new companion was once tempted by Muggles and led astray. Now, she has upheld the honor of purebloods by personally severing those temptations—what, don't you welcome her return?"

Upon hearing this, everyone present immediately began vying to pledge their loyalty, even uttering foolish phrases like "knowing one's mistakes and being able to correct them."

Draco was confused, but he found the scene inexplicably comical, as if the Death Eaters believed in the concept of "admitting one's mistakes and correcting them."

Winnie left, and Sylvia arrived. Voldemort's loyal followers, Bella and Dolly, looked grim, as if they wanted to devour her.

The meeting adjourned, and Sylvia was left alone.

Voldemort slowly approached the emaciated woman and said in a low voice, "Come, tell me—your master, where is the treasure I need?"

People are prone to superstition when they are unhappy, and Voldemort was no exception. But he was not ashamed; wasn't Grindelwald a prophet? Moreover, Voldemort himself proved through his own experience that divination and prophecy were not false.

Now, without a Horcrux to his side and with his wand restricted by its origin, he feels insecure for the first time since creating a Horcrux.

At this point, Axley, who was in charge of the Ministry of Magic, offered him Sylvia to make up for the erroneous information he had received from the Ministry.

This is a witch who, in a daze, followed the Death Eaters during their mass prison break, according to Yaxley's report:

"Master, according to the Ministry of Magic's records, she was a highly talented diviner. During her imprisonment, she lost her ability to foresee the future due to excessive suffering... The Dementor kissed her as it left its post. Your loyal servant has already tested it for you; she has completely lost her emotions and fond memories, but her mind has become pure, and her ability to foresee the future has been greatly enhanced..."

What a perfect prop it is! It has no thoughts of its own, yet it has left behind useful abilities!

Voldemort wouldn't easily believe Axley's side of the story. So, he subjected Sylvia to deep Legilimency.

If one had to describe it, the witch's consciousness was like being split apart by a layer of rain clouds. Above the clouds was a tranquil night sky filled with stars, and below was a disaster area ravaged by torrential rain. In other words, half of her memory was a vast blank, and the other half was mired in extreme chaos and darkness, completely fragmented.

No normal person has a brain like that. Voldemort was completely relieved; this woman had gone completely insane.

Upon hearing Voldemort's command, Sylvia's expression became conflicted. Her left cheek remained calm, while her right cheek seemed to be enduring extreme pain.

The tarot cards on the table were blown about by a gust of wind, fluttering haphazardly in the air. After a long while, most of the cards fell face down to the ground, leaving only two cards face up, landing in front of Voldemort.

One card is the Hermit, depicting an old man holding a lantern facing left; the other is the King of Swords, whose direction is not clearly defined.

Voldemort had just picked up the two cards when he heard Sylvia's piercing scream. The scream was even more shrill than the shriek of the mandrake.

Sylvia covered her head and ears, the light stinging Voldemort's ears, forcing him to use magic on the mad witch and obtain a silent, screaming fortune teller.

Southend, a coastal town.

Praris sat up straight like a zombie, his temples damp with sweat in clumps.

She rarely forgot things, but Praris, who had just woken up, couldn't remember what she had dreamed about. She only vaguely remembered that it was probably a nightmare.

Could it be that the bed I had as a child was too small, or that I was taken away from home in this very bed, which is why I have nightmares?

Praris sighed, turned and got out of bed, walking to the bathroom. She scooped water with both hands and splashed it on her face repeatedly, finally cooling her cheeks down.

This young girl, who had just been tormented by nightmares, had no idea what her biological mother had gone through, nor did she know that Sylvia was forced to provide Voldemort with cards pointing to the correct outcome.

She would be surprised if she saw Praris on the card.

The elderly wise man with a lantern on the Hermit card clearly points to Dumbledore. The wise man faces left, pointing towards Devonshire, west of Wiltshire. And the fact that the aged wise man stands on the ground precisely indicates that Dumbledore is not dead at all.

The King of Swords is associated with the element of wind. Wind represents the east, and the King of Swords symbolizes a place of authority. Doesn't this refer to London, located east of Wiltshire, where the British Ministry of Magic is situated?

But Prass knew nothing of this. She went back to sleep, gathering her strength to go to Diagon Alley with Dumbledore.

After Dumbledore's death, the chaos in Diagon Alley deepened, but thankfully Scrimgeour was still holding down the fort at the Ministry of Magic. However, Scrimgeour didn't trust Dumbledore and diligently pasted wallpaper, creating a false peace in the wizarding world.

"You should go out with an adult!" Old Tom said anxiously. "It's too dangerous outside now!"

Praris said in surprise, "Tom, I'm an adult—and besides, where did I get the idea that I'm an adult?"

Old Tom paused for a moment, then touched his thinning head, realizing that six years had passed. In his eyes, Praris still seemed like that little girl who loved to scare people and didn't like going out.

Adulthood? Old Tom finds it hard to associate that word with Praris.

Old Tom wanted to talk about Winnie and Prim, but then he remembered that the two of them had been hunted down by Death Eaters. He wanted to talk about Snape, who brought Prader to the wizarding world, but then he remembered Snape's murder of Dumbledore.

Fate has been incredibly cruel to this child.

Old Tom mumbled, "Then at least he should be with Heidi..."

“I am not alone,” Praris said calmly. “This is my friend, Mr. Wald.”

"That's good." Old Tom handed Mr. Wald a glass of wine, somewhat awkwardly, and repeated, "That's good."

Prarese snatched the glass away and said, “Mr. Wald can’t drink right now—old Tom, I need to ask you something.”

Upon hearing this, old Tom seemed to suddenly become younger, straightening his back as he asked, "What is it?"

“I had a necklace that my boyfriend gave me, and that petty thief, Mundungus, stole it.” Praris said, her head bowed, her voice filled with sadness. “You know, I hardly have any possessions…”

Old Tom slammed his fist on the table in anger: "That damned Mundungus, he even steals the kids' things!"

“Old Tom, I want to know where Mundungus sells his stuff.” Prarese gently wiped away non-existent tears from his face with his bent index finger. “I need to find my baby!”

Old Tom pointed outside and said, "For a while now, he's been setting up a stall in front of what used to be Florin's ice cream shop."

Praliss successfully obtained the information he wanted, chatted warmly with old Tom for a while, and then put on his hood and left with Dumbledore.

"Did I think you could tell just by looking?" Dumbledore's blue eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Praris said in a low voice, "There's a lot of tension going on around us right now. Old Tom's business isn't doing well, and he's quite lonely—it wouldn't hurt to chat for a bit."

For the elderly, loneliness and solitude are poisons that hasten death.

The streets of Diagon Alley are filled with illegal street vendors, making the roads narrow.

Praris picked out a shifty-looking vendor, squatted down, and lowered his voice to say, "I have a business opportunity, want to do it?"

"Business?" The vendor's eyes darted around. "I won't do anything illegal!"

Praris stood up decisively: "Then I'll find someone else! There's always someone willing to do something that makes money!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" the vendor quickly called out, trying to stop him. "What are you doing?"