HP North Star's Radiance

I have to say, Ginny's little brain is pretty sharp!

Praris clicked her tongue in amazement. She did know the method, but she deliberately kept it to herself to stop DA from courting disaster.

But now that DA has figured out a way to get into the principal's office, and Ginny has come up with a way to give away the sword, what reason does Praris have to refuse?

Ginny looked surprised at herself; she hadn't expected her to come up with such a brilliant idea! She exclaimed excitedly, "That's right! We can steal the sword, give it to Dobby, and have him give the sword to Harry!"

“I still don’t recommend that you steal the sword,” Praris said, shaking his head. “But if you insist on doing it, the most difficult part is actually not getting caught by the professor.”

"Harry, Hermione, Barty Crouch Jr., and Dobby have narrowed things up," Praris said helplessly. "The professor now has an unusually high level of experience dealing with thieves."

Chapter 222 Can't Do It

Professor Snape wasn't the kind of fool who would repeat the same mistake over and over again. Knowing the importance of the Gryffindor sword, he couldn't possibly be unprepared.

These guys who treat the storage room like a self-service supermarket have successfully blocked the way for anyone else. DA's actions are completely futile, just asking for punishment.

Since Hermione had asked Ginny to ask her for help, she said what needed to be said. This was both a way of showing respect for Hermione's trust and a way of minimizing unnecessary trouble for Professor Snape.

“Of course I know!” Ginny said resolutely. “But we can’t just give up because we think we can’t do something. We can’t beat Mystic yet! Are we just going to give up so easily?”

These words made Prarese look at Ginny in a new light.

“Besides,” Ginny muttered, “we might not necessarily fail.”

Praris decided to take back her earlier thought; Ginny was still an innocent little girl. She shook her head speechlessly: "Whatever makes you happy."

“That’s not enough.” Ginny pressed her advantage, resorting to reverse psychology. “Since you think our idea isn’t good enough, it seems you have a better one?”

Prareas couldn't help but let out a surprised look: "Miss Weasley, this is too clumsy! If I fall for your trick, wouldn't you be committing suicide by believing my method?"

“Even the worst ideas have some merit,” Ginny said stubbornly. “If you can’t even find anything merit in an idea, at least it can serve as a way to eliminate it.”

This sounds unreasonable, but upon closer examination, one can actually find some meaning in it—it's just not quite appropriate to apply it to Praris.

“Don’t even try, Miss Weasley,” Prarese said with a wry smile. “You’re going against my mentor! At most, I can prevent you from getting seriously hurt; I’m not going to actually offer you any advice.”

"I can only give you two pieces of advice: First, it's best not to do it. Second, if you really have to do it... the way you distracted Umbridge last time was too clumsy, try to find another way."

Praris caught a glimpse of embarrassment on Ginny's face. She was taken aback; were these guys really going to use that trick again after already failing once?

To put it bluntly, it makes one wonder if it was a case of pure-blooded inbreeding that damaged the child's brain.

Despite including Draco in the insults, Praris wasn't going to change her mind. She thought the guess was brilliant; all purebloods should check if they'd made such a stupid mistake in their daily lives.

“Of course we won’t do that!” Ginny cleared her throat and said seriously, “By the way, since we’re planning to rebuild DA, why don’t you come back to us—”

“No need.” Praris refused without hesitation. “I have never participated in any of your training sessions, let alone been involved in any of your activities. Since Talia has been nothing more than a false mark on parchment from the beginning, let her remain a silent shadow.”

Ginny seemed reluctant to accept it, but just as Prareas was about to say something to dissuade her, she suddenly spoke up: "Prareas, thank you! I'm not an ungrateful person, DA and I both remember what you've done for us."

"No matter what changes you might experience in the future, I will never forget your sacrifices. I will try my best to control my instincts and believe in you, and I will never exclude Talia from DA!"

After saying that, she took two steps back, turned around, and left.

Myrtle floated in from outside the washroom, asking curiously, "What does this violent girl want with you?"

“Violence?” Praris asked.

Myrtle curled her lip: "Four or five years ago, this girl threw a notebook at me—that was just too much!"

Ah, so that's what it was about...

Praris sighed, “Myrtle, tell me, why do people never choose the best and most correct path?”

"It must have been out of necessity," Myrtle said, tears welling up in her eyes again. "People always ask me, 'Myrtle, Myrtle! Hongbei bullies you, why don't you fight back? Why don't you yell back?' Those people laugh at me for being a coward, just like Hongbei did!"

"At first, I couldn't understand it either. Yeah... why didn't I fight back, why did I only cry? If I had had the courage to take revenge on Hong Bei while I was alive, maybe I wouldn't have died!"

Myrtle was actually enjoying being a ghost. She could finally take her revenge on Hongbei at will! And she even scared Hongbei so much that he ran away with his head in his hands—how exhilarating!

But after meeting Baron, Myrtle didn't want to die anymore. She always thought that if she were still alive, she could grow up with Baron. This gave rise to many similar thoughts like, "If only I had done this or that, maybe I wouldn't have to die."

Myrtle never considered that if she were still alive, she would already be Barron's grandmother.

"Then I realized!" Myrtle clasped her hands to her chest, crying as she said with unwavering conviction, "Because I couldn't do it!"

Yes, it's that simple.

Not resisting is the best way to preserve their strength, but the DAs can't do that. Joining Voldemort is the easiest way to climb the ranks, but Prader can't do that either. Continuing to serve Voldemort is the easiest way to gain status, but even Professor Snape can't do that.

Ultimately, all the reasons for not choosing this path boil down to simply "it's impossible."

“Thank you, Myrtle.” Praris smiled at her. “I understand.”

Myrtle didn't understand what Praris had realized, and she said sadly, "Praris understands, but Myrtle doesn't. It's so sad that Myrtle doesn't understand what Praris has realized!"

After saying this, Myrtle flew up into the sky in a "sad" manner, and then rushed into the toilet hole at an extremely fast speed, splashing countless water droplets.

As soon as Ginny left, Prader reported the incident to Professor Snape, betraying them without hesitation.

Believe her? You'd be making a huge mistake.

Six years later, Praris told the whistleblower with a clear conscience. He felt no shame, but rather pride, and even planned to reward himself with a day of pure rest, free from all thoughts.

"Hmph!" Snape sneered. "Utterly foolish!"

After saying that, he curled his lip and said to Praris, "Good job, keep an eye on these brainless idiots. I want to see just how vivid their imaginations can be!"

Praris opened his mouth as if to say something, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Sir, Amicus Caro tortured Muggle-born wizards in class."

Snape fell silent. He closed his eyes, but his eyeballs were still trembling slightly.

After a long while, he opened his eyes again.

He said, "I know."

Praris suddenly realized.

Yes, Professor Snape is the headmaster now, how could he not know what Amycus is doing right under his nose?

But what's the use of knowing that?

Perhaps this also falls under the category of "those who are powerless"?

Snape suddenly asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what happened to that wizard?"

Praris, recalling Draco's words, shook his head: "No, sir. I already know the answer."

If that wizard had a good ending, Snape wouldn't have asked this question. Since the wizard wasn't saved, Praris would rather not know who he was or what his fate was.

After the first week, Alecto Caro may have felt that his workload was not yet full, so he required all students to take Muggle Studies classes starting this week.

In the past, almost no Slytherin students would choose this course voluntarily. Therefore, Prareas could only get information about the course from Baron.

“They’ll probably say things that are insulting to Muggles, like ‘filthy and dangerous’ and ‘like animals,’” Baron said to Praris during a break. “In my opinion, Muggles and wizards are not physically different. Except that we can use magic, and they can’t… We don’t even have reproductive isolation.”

"Watch your words." Praris put his index finger to his lips, then subconsciously began to think, "Wizards, trolls, and Veelas don't have reproductive barriers either—you've led me astray, kid!"

Baron gave a shy yet mischievous smile. But his happiness didn't last long; he quickly sighed and looked at the door of the school infirmary: "Praris, there are more and more students lying in here."

This is also the reason why Praris came to the school clinic.

To understand what the Carlo siblings and the DA did, just look at how they punished the students and why they were punished.

Prarese believed that the Carol siblings' methods were far more than just a mild punishment like solitary confinement.

“Some students disagreed with Alecto Caro’s statements in the Muggle Studies class and raised their hands in opposition.” Barron recalled the injured students he saw, his eyes filled with sadness. “So she put them in solitary confinement, and those who were more aggressive were even subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.”

“Just today, it was a fourth-year Gryffindor.” Barron couldn’t help but turn his head to the other side. “Fortunately, Carlo didn’t keep casting spells on him. He only suffered some pain and wasn’t left with any deeper injuries.”

Potions in this area don't even require Praris's research. St. Mungo, having experienced the last war, has some practical medicines in this regard, although they can only save those patients who haven't suffered permanent mental damage from the Cruciatus Curse.

Prareas began to imagine the future. If the war ended, perhaps she could work with Professor Snape to try and develop a potion to cure the Crucifixion Curse.

Although it sounds incredibly difficult, even a bit far-fetched—who cares? She even developed a limb regeneration drug! As Ginny said, does that mean you shouldn't do something just because you can't?

Since Alexios has begun punishing his students with the Crucifixion Curse, Prareus guesses that Dumbledore's army will launch its attack today or tomorrow.

Sure enough, just as Praris was having his first Muggle Studies class, an explosion was heard in the castle corridor.

Thud—thud thud—thud thud thud!

Alecto quickly abandoned his students and rushed out. The students in the classroom also woke up from their drowsiness and ran to the door, craning their necks to see what was happening.

Prarese looked through the crowd with his arms crossed and saw that they had blown up the new rules posted in the corridor, as well as the portraits of the Carol siblings and Professor Snape.

Prarese knew she should show some anger, and she did, but surprisingly she didn't feel angry.

Logically speaking, they couldn't possibly not blow up Professor Snape's portrait. On the contrary, it would be much more troublesome if they simply didn't!

Alecto went to arrest the troublemaking students, which inadvertently freed Praris and the others.

Professor Carlo is simply not cut out for education. She's like an old lady in the countryside who raises chickens, grabs a chicken by the neck, and pours chicken feed into its mouth without caring whether the chicken chokes or not.

Alecto initially tried to give a speech, but her words were hardly persuasive—her gestures, however, were quite impressive, like playing the accordion. For most of the class, her lesson was entirely dependent on the cooperation of her pure-blood students.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Daphne are like highly ambitious people who have met partners with low abilities, putting on a show of great excitement to satisfy the professor's vanity.

It's really putting them in a difficult position.

When the feedback was poor, Alecto began to give up entirely. She talked whatever came to mind, cursing Muggles and Mudbloods like a shrew, trying to win people over by talking a lot in class, as if she thought that the more she talked, the more brainwashing she would succeed.

Dumbledore's Army's first rebellion successfully freed Prader's mind from its daze. Although she knew deep down that they chose this time simply because the Carol siblings were in class and couldn't react in time.

After class, Filch used a broom to clean up the shards of glass that had been blown out of the picture frame in the hallway.

Prareus stepped out of the crowd and picked up Professor Snape's portrait.

Filch looked up, furious, ready to unleash a torrent of abuse, only to find it was Prarese. He chuckled awkwardly and asked, "Did Headmaster Snape send you?"

Praris could hear the whispers of the passersby, but she ignored them.

She asked calmly, "Mr. Filch, can I fix it with magic?"

Filch's cloudy eyes darted around, and he grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth: "Since Professor Snape asked you to help, then of course it's not against the rules."

Prarese didn't explain that Professor Snape hadn't sent her. She simply waved her wand lightly: "Restored to its original state."

The shards of glass on the ground flowed back onto the picture frame as if time had reversed, and Snape's portrait was instantly restored to its original state, as if it had never been broken.

She nodded in satisfaction, handed the portrait to Filch, and said to him, "Alright—I'll be going now."

Filch was stunned and quickly said, "Prince, there are other portraits and school rules here!"

“Students aren’t allowed to cast spells in the hallways!” Praris exclaimed in surprise. “One exception is fine, but how can I push my luck? Mr. Filch, this is not good! You’ll have to go and replace the glass!”