HP North Star's Radiance

Praris whispered, "Do you know Mundungus?"

The vendor blinked and said conservatively, "Everyone on this street knows about this."

“There’s a lady who was swindled out of something by that fellow,” Praris said slowly, drawing out his words. “She’s furious right now and’s going to teach him a lesson! I’m here to inquire about this matter. If it’s settled, here’s the deal: I get 70%, you get 30%, how about it?”

The vendor's eyes lit up, and he licked his lips: "I'll take six, you take four—I'm taking a risk, you middleman!"

Praris waved his hands repeatedly: "No way, I'll take six and you take four, otherwise there's no point in talking!"

The vendor looked very hesitant, but finally made up his mind and said in a low voice, "Pay the deposit first, then wait for news. If the news is satisfactory, we'll split the profits 50/50, how about it?"

Praris frowned, his fake face showing a troubled expression, and gritted his teeth, saying, "Fine! If you dare to play me, you can forget about working in Diagon Alley!"

After saying that, Praris rummaged in his tattered pocket, pulled out a small bag, and tossed it to the vendor.

The vendor introduced himself as Mark, but was known as Goblin Mark. He had this nickname because he was short and not very polite.

In Mark's memory, Mundungus had acquired a batch of goods to sell about two weeks ago.

“I see a pair of gloves inside,” Mark said, rubbing his hands together. “Silk over a layer of—Levi's lace, with gold thread!”

Praris recalled that among the lost items were Walbuga's gloves.

Praris nodded: "Continue."

Mark grinned, revealing an extremely ugly and obsequious smile, and rubbed his fingers together at Praris: "Look—"

Praris tossed him some Galleons again.

“You won’t regret choosing me!” Mark hurriedly opened the bag, practically burying his head inside. After checking the amount inside, Mark continued, “The necklace you mentioned, I don’t see it here…”

Praris raised an eyebrow, his eyes instantly turning dangerous: "Oh?"

“Don’t be in such a hurry!” Mark hurriedly added, “On the day of the ‘delivery,’ Mundungus complained to us that he was ripped off by an old woman from the Ministry of Magic!”

"So many people, and they only caught me!" Mundungus complained indignantly.

Mark also disliked those people in the Ministry of Magic who just spent money without doing anything, but he didn't get along with Mundungus, so he sarcastically said to him, "You've suffered a huge loss, haven't you? Mundungus! The money's flown away before you even opened for business—that's not a good sign!"

Upon hearing this, the street vendors all joined in, mocking and ridiculing him.

Businessmen can't stand such talk that threatens their fortune, and Mundungust immediately lost face, retorting angrily, "That's not necessarily true! I tossed that old locket to that pink toad, and she took it like a treasure! She didn't even fine me!"

“That’s not a necklace, Mundungus said it’s a locket box.” Seeing Praris’s displeased expression, Mark hurriedly explained, “But you never know, the necklace might be in the box!”

Praris reluctantly said, "Fine—you must keep this to yourself, or I will never let you off the hook if someone else takes the bounty!"

After that, the two completed the transaction, exchanging money for goods.

Prarese got the information she wanted, and Mark also made a fortune. He packed up his stall and headed timidly towards Gringotts.

Prarese met up with Dumbledore and briefly relayed Mark's words to him: "I think the locket is with Umbridge. How about Harry uses the Weasleys' name to go look for it?"

"A snake venom dagger?" Dumbledore asked.

Praris rolled his eyes discreetly and said, "We've run out of snake venom, and the dagger is contaminated with snake blood!"

Either Harry goes back to the Chamber of Secrets, or he uses the Gryffindor sword—neither way is Prarese's job!

Prarees wrote a letter at Owl Station to Harry:

Puppy,

I saw a piece that your uncle loved last time at the home of a well-known sculptor we all know. It costs 1248.84 Galleons. Please raise the funds as soon as possible to prevent it from being bought by someone else.

Thalia

Prareus handed the letter to Dumbledore and proudly asked, "How is it?"

“Forgive me for not being able to connect what we just discussed with your letter,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, then pointed to the numbers, “Pounds?”

"It seems there's still something missing," Praris remarked. "But not everyone has your intelligence, does he?"

Dumbledore suspected that the letter was too artistic for Harry to understand. But the "sculptor" might be something only Prader and Harry knew, and there might be some unspoken understanding between them.

Chapter 207 Encounter

With the letter sent out, the matter of the locket naturally fell to Harry.

Whether it's snake venom or the Gryffindor sword, Prairie believed Harry could accomplish the task.

Indeed, Harry sometimes struggles to control his emotions, but he is a guy who gets stronger when faced with adversity, has a strong ability to adapt to changing circumstances, and is quite clever—all of which Dumbledore deliberately cultivated in him over six years.

That's brilliant; people who can't lead a team will only work themselves to death. Prarese is that kind of guy who likes to rely on himself and doesn't lead a team.

Prarese's situation is often gray, making it difficult for her to place her trust in others. Often, she feels that taking matters into her own hands is better than trusting others.

This is a common problem for strong people in their early stages: they think they are already strong enough, so why do they need others?

As for the Gryffindor sword? That's Dumbledore's business. Dumbledore just left to change his original plan and deliver the sword to Harry ahead of schedule.

Prareus didn't ask Dumbledore whether the person who leaked the information was trustworthy—this was the first person besides Snape and Prareus to know that Dumbledore was still alive.

After handing the letter to the owl, she took out some copper nats from her pocket and paid for it.

Since the beginning of this year, Praris has had no time to exchange potions for money, nor has he developed any valuable new drugs. He also has to bear the burden of Dumbledore's treatment on his own, and just now he suffered a huge loss due to the whereabouts of the locket.

Indeed, she used to receive a share of the profits from some of the potions she invented. However, because of the existence of cheap wolfsbane potion, she offended Voldemort, and her invented potions had long since gone underground, with the money going to small vendors without proper operating licenses!

As Prarese silently counted the money left in her pocket, she felt depressed. She felt as if she had returned to being penniless.

Stepping out of the Owl Station, Praris couldn't help but complain, "Don't you pay for your medicine?"

“That’s a terrible question,” Dumbledore said gently. “My lady, as a ‘dead’ fellow, I can’t possibly give you a single coin—put them all on your tab!”

In fact, Dumbledore had never paid for Snape's medicine, receiving only the same salary as the other teachers. Therefore, he hadn't considered the possibility that Prader might be short of money.

Prareus turned the purse open toward Dumbledore, his eyes full of reproach: "After buying the information and paying for the owl, this is all that's left."

Dumbledore felt a rare bit embarrassed. He pondered for a moment and said, "Why don't you use your Patronus to send a message?"

"The guardian deity can also deliver messages?" Praris said in surprise.

Dumbledore was surprised that the learned Praris didn't even know this: "Who taught you your Patronus Charm?"

“Ninety-nine percent of it is self-taught,” Praris said. The only question she ever asked in this regard was whether she could use the Patronus Charm.

Okay, here comes another common flaw of intelligent people: arrogance. Because they don't encounter Dementors, they don't need the Patronus Charm. And because they don't need the Patronus Charm, they won't waste time exploring its uses.

Dumbledore told Praris that they occasionally used Patronus to deliver messages. This was faster and safer, preventing the letters from being intercepted.

“Alright, you can go back now,” Praris said helplessly. “I’ll go to Slag Giggs Pharmacy.”

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I can't live without you, Doctor."

That being said, Prarese didn't think Dumbledore needed him. Dumbledore's statement was most likely due to what old Tom had said.

The last time I went to the pharmacy was last summer. Praris sold off all the medicines he hadn't used in a long time, and his wallet was full again.

Upon seeing these medicines, the pharmacy owner immediately knew who she was. More people came to the pharmacy to buy medicine than to sell it, and the skill levels of the pharmacists varied greatly; Prarese's work always stood out.

He whispered to Praris, "Little Praris, you shouldn't have gone out! You should have stayed hidden like Winnie and Prim—you've offended the Mystic!"

Praris casually stuffed the money into his bag: "Sir, but I still have to make a living!"

The pharmacy owner had never seen a potion master as poor as Praris, and for a moment he didn't know what to say.

He vaguely remembered that Snape's financial situation wasn't very good when he was young... Do you two even have to pass on this kind of thing?

Emerging from the pharmacy, Pralis instinctively headed towards the spot where Bradley often set up his stall. Gradually, her pace slowed, and her gaze met Dumbledore's beside her.

"Someone is following us!"

"There's no other possibility but Death Eaters."

"How could they have discovered our disguise!"

"Pharmacy owner."

Prarese didn't believe the pharmacy owner would betray him.

In her eyes, the pharmacy owner was a kind elder, just like the other shop owners in Diagon Alley. There wasn't even a trace of guilt, unease, or fear in his eyes or actions.

Therefore, Praris didn't take any special precautions against him. But the phrase "you shouldn't have gone out" seemed so suspicious, as if the betrayer was shirking responsibility.

Now was not the time to think about such things. Dumbledore gestured for her to move to a less crowded area to avoid harming innocent passersby.

The two walked at a normal pace toward the end of Diagon Alley. Due to safety concerns, Diagon Alley had fewer customers, and some non-essential shops had gradually closed down.

The further you walk into Diagon Alley, the more shops like these you see—either the owners are dead or missing, or they've gone out of business. And the number of people here is dwindling.

Perhaps sensing their intentions, before the two had even reached their desired position, a red light suddenly shone behind them.

Praris quickly used his armor spell to deflect the red light back. Then he used a sandstorm to confuse their eyes.

Immediately afterwards, the fences at the entrance of the abandoned shop next door rose from the ground and, under the power of transformation, turned into sharp wooden spikes that pierced into the yellow sand with a whoosh, and cries of pain immediately came from the other side.

"Go!" Dumbledore called to her, as he couldn't act to keep his identity secret.

Praris, who had been called, was concentrating on deflecting the evil curses that were shooting haphazardly from the yellow sand.

Upon hearing Dumbledore's words, Prareus glanced coldly at the still-unsettled yellow sand, where Death Eaters were already about to break through.

Despite being surrounded by evil dark wizards, Dumbledore disapproved of her killing.

Okay, that's true, she herself can't stand seeing Draco kill people!

But—just because we can't kill them doesn't mean we can't teach them a lesson!

Prareus's wand emitted light from its tip, but it wasn't Apparition that Dumbledore had assumed.

She uprooted all the dense ivy from the nearby wall and threw it at the Death Eaters. Using the ivy as fuel, flames burst forth, shimmering with beautiful floral patterns.

Then a strong wind rose, scattering the flying yellow sand but fueling the fire, causing large patches of red and green flowers to bloom in the sea of ​​fire.

"This fire is poisonous!"

Amidst the cries of the Death Eaters, Prareus finally ran to Dumbledore, and his attendants materialized and departed.

The village of Autri-Saint-Cachipol.

Today is Bill and Fleur's wedding.

Fred plucked the red hair from a Muggle in the village and turned Harry into their cousin "Barney".

Harry exclaimed in surprise, "What a coincidence! The school hospital's assistant therapist is also named Barney."