HP North Star's Radiance

“That’s Barron.” Hermione sighed and said helplessly, “Look at this, the letter Praris just sent you.”

The three of them rushed to the corner to open the letter. Ron confidently declared, "We have so many kids in our family, we can manage!"

"Puppy?" Ron said in surprise, "Why does Puppy call Harry 'Little Dog'?"

Hermione said definitively, "For secrecy! It's obvious, Sirius's Animagus is a black dog, so Harry must be a puppy!"

“Huh?” Harry convinced himself to accept it. “That sounds good. Sirius will be very touched.”

Ron continued reading, saying, "The sculptor we all know... Wait! Is that what I mean?"

He slowly looked up at Harry: "Brother, are you alright?"

“Excellent!” Harry was actually amused. “A human sculptor is still a sculptor, isn’t he?”

Ron shook his head: "If being mean is a sin, then Praris would be unforgivable. So, who is Uncle? RAB?"

“Isn’t there any other answer?” Hermione said. “Harry doesn’t have any uncles, not counting the Dursleys, but Sirius has a brother.”

Harry pointed at the number with a puzzled look: "Then—what does this mean?"

“Can’t you see it?” Hermione said clearly, “We can easily notice that 1248.84 Galleons is 62442 pounds, which is the number of the telephone booth at the Ministry of Magic’s entrance!”

“Wow—” Ron exclaimed, “Your attention span is amazing.”

Hermione glared at Ron, who shrank back dejectedly.

She looked away, cleared her throat, and said, "I think this is Praris reminding us. We don't know Umbridge's address, but she'll definitely go to work. And at the Ministry of Magic, she'll easily let her guard down!"

“Hermione, you could be a translator after you graduate,” Harry said admiringly. “With your skills, you could easily get a professional riddle translation certificate.”

Hermione smiled sheepishly: "It's just because I'm very familiar with Praris. We've been corresponding for five years."

“Even if I’ve known her for fifty years—” Ron clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I still can’t understand these strange things. Luckily we have you, so it’s not a problem!”

Harry nodded in agreement, then pointed behind Hermione: "Hermione, did you invite Krum?"

Upon hearing this, Hermione froze.

Ron was somewhat surprised by her performance.

Seeing Krum, Ron was indeed a little disappointed, but he quickly comforted Hermione, saying, "Hermione, there's nothing to be embarrassed about!"

Ron scratched his head and said, "Actually, I also invited Lavender... Harry, what's with that look! Lavender already knows I wasn't a third party! Even though we're not dating right now, she's still my friend, okay! Oh—she's here!"

In a corner of the wedding venue, Krum cornered Hermione. As if he hadn't been dumped at all, he showered Hermione with compliments: "Hermione, you're so beautiful!"

"Oh, thank you." Hermione lowered her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. "How did you..."

“It was Fleur—the bride invited me today,” Krum said. “Well, I, Harry, Diggory, and she were at the competition, and you were…”

“I know,” Hermione said suddenly. “I mean, my memory might still be okay.”

Hermione felt a pang of sadness, as if she were soaking in a glass of concentrated lemonade.

In Hermione's eyes, the place suddenly resembled the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The two of them, dressed in formal attire, seemed ready to hand in hand leap onto the dance floor at the 1994 Christmas Ball at any moment.

“Very good, you have a very good memory,” Krum said. “You’re also the most beautiful one today…”

Hermione interrupted him again: "Don't say things like that at the wedding."

Krum was about to say something when Hermione suddenly stood up and said urgently, "Excuse me, Ginny is looking for me—excuse me!"

As she turned around, Hermione's eyes reddened slightly.

Seeing Hermione leave, Krum instinctively stood up and reached out his hand, but Harry patted him on the shoulder: "Krum, long time no see! Shall I show you to a seat?"

“Hermione…” Krum said.

Harry shrugged. "With Ginny! You know, girls always have so much to say."

Harry left with Krum, then turned back and met Ginny's gaze. Ginny gave him a thumbs-up.

Ginny stepped aside to shield Hermione, gently patting her back: "I don't know why, but Harry said you needed us—so here we are."

She pulled a small box from a hidden pocket on the side of her dress: "Don't worry, no one will see how you look right now. Do you need to touch up your makeup?"

Ginny understands all too well what a strong-willed girl needs when she's feeling down. She needs to hide her vulnerability from everyone, no matter how badly she's hurting.

Hermione lowered her head and took Ginny's little box.

Ginny tried to distract her by saying something: "The Triwizard Tournament is all here! Fleur even invited Cedric. He also brought Cho Chang—her new cheongsam makes her look really special."

Hermione sniffed, then looked up to see a sleeveless cheongsam with black and blue flowers, which made Cho Chang appear composed and elegant. She asked, "Aren't you in a hurry anymore?"

“It’s hard to explain, I just feel—” Ginny nodded, kicking her high heels, “Harry is great, but I’m not bad either, am I?”

Even as an adult, Ginny has always been bold and decisive. If someone bullies her, she fights back; if she's not good at ball, she practices; if she wants to watch something, she knocks on the door... But when facing Harry, she reverts to the timid version of herself she was as a child.

Ginny could never forget the question Prarese asked her before he left: "What are you afraid of?"

Chapter 208 The Carter Family

yes?

What am I afraid of?

Ginny couldn't understand. Wasn't I pretty enough? Wasn't my magic powerful enough? If I was brave in the face of enemies, why was I so timid when it came to love?

Why am I still that Ginny, who is both excited and timid in a secluded room, when it comes to love?

She sat up abruptly, a feeling she couldn't quite describe welling up inside her. Why couldn't she have the same faith in love as she had in Quidditch and the Bat-Spell?

She didn't want to live in fear any longer; that wasn't how she felt right now. She wanted to believe in herself, and she wanted to believe in Harry. But if anyone dared to offend her, they could taste her spell!

Ginny thought a lot, but she said nothing. She was good at hiding her feelings, just like she had been for the past five or six years.

There are many kinds of girls in the world, and everyone's nature and personality are different. Physical and psychological maturity comes so quickly, but true growth is not so easy.

“Prareth,” Dumbledore said, looking at the girl whose back was to her, “you’re too willful.”

Praris scoffed and kicked a tree trunk: "Sir, I don't understand what you mean. I didn't kill anyone, I just taught them a lesson."

“The one who owes the debt is the boss, you know I’m counting on you to pay it off. So, for the sake of victory, I mostly follow your orders.” Prareus slowly turned around and said in an extremely polite tone, “But you may not know that even in front of Professor Snape, I’ve never been the kind of obedient student who follows orders without question.”

“Of course, you’re absolutely right,” Dumbledore said gently. “But Praris, I’m also worried about your safety. I can’t act rashly; the Death Eaters far outnumber us. The longer we delay, the more dangerous it will be for you.”

Praris's expression softened somewhat, and he blinked: "That's not entirely what you think."

Dumbledore smiled kindly.

“But I accepted it,” Prarese said.

Praliss was indeed unhappy with Dumbledore's demanding requirements. She was a loner, had her own judgment, and rarely made mistakes. Once or twice was fine, but too many demands restricted her decision-making and made her uncomfortable—did he see her as a wicked witch who could easily succumb to evil?

But Prarese knew better than anyone that no matter how annoyed she was, she couldn't afford to fall out with Dumbledore, lest it affect their final victory.

In the face of victory, everything else can take a backseat.

“Then,” Dumbledore said kindly, “could you tell me about your fire magic?”

Prareas knew that Dumbledore wouldn't ignore the "poison" in the Death Eaters' mouths; he was probably still worried that this was a delayed murder.

But at the same time, she couldn't help but wonder if Draco had been sad for the same reason, thinking that Prares suspected him of being a bad boy who enjoyed killing?

“That’s called Gloriosa Flame. Gloriosa is also known as Flame Lily. It’s rich in colchicine, which is poisonous.” Praris said in a low voice, arms crossed. “But the flame itself is only mildly toxic, and will only cause numbness and weakness in the limbs for a short time.”

Praris said calmly, "Their most serious injuries were probably from splinters and burns."

That being said, the Death Eaters in the heat of battle didn't think they were merely paralyzed. Feeling weak all over and unable to hold their wands, they only thought that this potions genius had poisoned them, and panic gripped them.

"A very appropriate use of it!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

Dumbledore was a good actor. Even Prader couldn't always accurately glean his thoughts from his micro-expressions.

For example, Prarese is now beginning to suspect that Dumbledore may not be "interrogating" her, but simply being curious about the flames of the Gloriosa.

But whether it is or not, for this temporary alliance, it must be. She slightly raised her chin: "You flatter me."

“Then,” Dumbledore said calmly, “we must consider this question: why would Death Eaters dare to act in the streets?”

Yes--

Praris fell into deep thought. Could Voldemort have been driven mad by the pile of destroyed Horcruxes?

No, no, no, Praris quickly dismissed her own thought. Those who think the enemy is foolish are the most foolish of all. She couldn't fall into that trap of arrogance.

Just then, Dumbledore narrowed his eyes: "There's a problem with the Ministry of Magic."

Dumbledore's "battle" with Voldemort lasted longer, as did his wrangling with the Ministry of Magic. Compared to Prarees, who relied purely on inferences based on human nature and subtle clues, he had a greater advantage in experience.

Praris quickly realized: "Then Harry—"

She was right; Harry and his two companions were already on their way to escape.

Scrimgeour was betrayed by Yaxley, the wizarding community fell under the control of the Death Eaters, and enemies infiltrated the guests. Harry and his friends hurriedly fled the wedding and went on the run.

“This is not good news,” Dumbledore said, looking up at the sky. “Scrimgeour is keen on whitewashing things, but at least he has maintained a semblance of peace, and he is much more capable than Fudge.”

Praris picked up a pebble and tossed it into the lake in front of him, skipping it across the water. "It's not entirely bad news. At least, many people can no longer cover their eyes and pretend nothing happened."

Yes, this will make Death Eaters' actions more unrestricted, but it will also make more ordinary people realize the danger, stop holding onto the illusion of peace, and die in a daze.

“Let’s go.” Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Come with me to see someone.”

Before meeting anyone, Dumbledore gave Prasri a white hair and added it to Polyjuice Potion. Soon, he became a blue-eyed old man with white hair, just like himself.

Prarese raised an eyebrow. The white beard obscured most of his facial features, but she still felt that the man's eyes and brows resembled Dumbledore's to some extent.

Dumbledore offered no explanation, and pulled Prareas into a dilapidated room through his follower apparition.

Inside the room, a couple stood up, hand in hand. Their clothes were simple and patched, but their hair was neatly combed and they were very clean.

“Little Pry, this is Wolfgang Carter and his wife Riley Carter.”

Dumbledore's tone had changed drastically. He was no longer the gentle and calm sage; his voice revealed a vulgar restlessness.

After saying this, Dumbledore looked at the Carters and said in a relaxed tone, "As you can see, this is Miss Prince."

Praris had many questions in her mind, but she said nothing, only smiled gently and shook hands with them.

“Miss Prince, oh no, Master. We’ve been looking forward to seeing you for so long, oh!” Riley said in a trembling voice, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I lost my composure…”

Before Riley could finish speaking, tears streamed down her face, and she frantically wiped them with the back of her hand. Prareas quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, to which Riley thanked him profusely.

Seeing that his wife was unable to control her emotions, Wolfgang had no choice but to take on the task of explaining. He hugged his hat to his chest and said softly, "Miss, as you can see, we have a poor family, but it wasn't always like this."