HP North Star's Radiance

Praris noticed that Milison was also looking at her, realized something, and whispered, "Just a coincidence. How was the steak today?"

"That's great, it would be perfect with some buttered black pepper mashed potatoes."

It only took a few seconds to distract Pansy; she instantly forgot about the previous topic.

Prarese accepted Pansy's suggestion and ordered the same dinner as her.

She had to admit that both Pansy and Stella were big eaters.

The steak was delicious today; the bread was crispy, and the steak was tender and juicy. Praris had a great appetite and ate quite a bit more than usual.

Although it was just a steak and half a serving of mashed potatoes.

After eating and drinking her fill, Prarese planned to go to the library to study the book that Professor Snape had given her.

Prarese quickly immersed herself in the book as usual, but she began to dislike her own mind. As she studied, she couldn't help but think of Millison.

In the past few days, she has tried to speak to Milison more than once, but Milison has been avoiding her.

She didn't want to see me, Praris realized.

But this is not possible.

They slept in the same dormitory, ate at the same table, and attended the same classes!

Praliss couldn't possibly stop being herself; she wouldn't allow anyone to impose any framework on her, firstly, a female student version of Snape, or Slytherin.

Those are just other people's definitions of her; she is simply herself, and all her decisions are based on her own rational judgment.

Does she love Milison? Probably. Given the opportunity, she's willing to give more for Milison.

But perhaps emotion is her greatest enemy; she can only manipulate feelings, not possess them. If she had to choose between Milison and being herself, she could only say, "I'm sorry."

She still needs to learn and improve her abilities every moment.

If she made any concessions for Milison, it was that she tried her best not to say what she had analyzed in her mind when no one was asking questions.

Although sometimes it's hard to control, since many things are too obvious.

By the time Praris returned to the dormitory, it was already curfew time.

The system of black magic is divided into two types: black magic creatures and spells. The beginner level is generally for black magic creatures, with only a few spells.

For Praris, black magic is more like a stronger form of magic, with greater offensive power?

But this doesn't mean that magic is weak.

As everyone knows, Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. When used properly, white magic is just as powerful as black magic.

Chapter 27 Black Magic and Mudseed

Dark magic grants power quickly and has a low barrier to entry.

Think about it, how many years does it take for a white wizard to become powerful, and not everyone can become Dumbledore. But a dark wizard, given enough malice, can easily learn the Avada Kedavra Curse.

This is an easier path to take.

Praris realized this in just one night.

She sighed, recalling Robert Francis's poem about two paths in the woods.

Now she faces two paths: one is upright and aboveboard, at least not rejected by the public; the other is overgrown with weeds and its future is uncertain.

But does black magic necessarily equate to evil? At least Praris doesn't think so right now.

Power is like a Muggle's gun, and the wizard is the master of the "gun." Whether the "gun" in one's hand is used to launch a terrorist attack or to defend oneself is determined by the master of the "gun."

Having a gun is itself a source of confidence and deterrence; only by having a gun can one have the power to choose whether or not to fire at a critical moment.

------

"You and Milison haven't made up yet? I think it's normal for witches to like Lockhart; a lot of witches like Lockhart."

Stella passed the OWLS exam last year and is now preparing for the NEWT exam.

Although Praris hasn't reached that level yet, with the professor's private tutoring, she's already able to discuss some of NEWT's Potions with Stella.

Stella remarked, "No wonder Professor Snape chose you. If I were the teacher, I would also like a very intelligent student."

“Some teachers are not like that, like Lockhart. I think he likes famous students and those who fawn over him.”

After a week or two, everyone had figured out what kind of person Lockhart was. He was vain, loved the limelight, and had no boundaries.

Professor Snape and Ms. Sprout recently lost a helpful assistant, as Prarese always entered and exited the office at the speed of light and never stayed long.

"If you find yourself running into Lockhart if you spend too much time in the office, you'll be quick to run away," Prarese said.

This person has gone so far as to start teaching Professor Snape how to make potions better!

Instructions! Professor Snape! Potions!

It's like showing off magic in front of Merlin, dancing on Satan's head.

His behavior during class was also very abnormal.

Lockhart later made up for the missed class by handing out a test paper to the Slytherins as soon as class started.

When Praris looked at the questions, they were all strange questions like "What color does Lockhart like?" and "What is Lockhart's birthday?"

Praris was puzzled, but still retrieved and filled the memory.

And then what happened?

Prarese refused to recall that day; she even began to hate her excellent memory.

Sometimes, forgetting itself is a form of redemption.

No! She can't forget it at all!

That Malfoy, that damn daddy's boy! I've been laughing at him for days!

"Prince, I didn't realize you admired Lockhart so much!"

"Prince, your idol is here!"

After several attempts, Praris couldn't take it anymore and turned his golden head, which was covered in hair wax, into a rainbow color.

That afternoon, Malfoy didn't dare leave his dormitory.

Even at dinnertime, he put on a hat and bluffed, "How dare you! I'm going to tell my dad!"

“Listen, Malfoy, if I ever hear you put my name with Lockhart again, I’ll make every hair on your body turn rainbow-colored. So your father will have a colorful son!”

In the end, Prareus let the guy go before Professor Snape saw him.

Malfoy avoided her for several days because of this.

He probably only started causing trouble again after observing that Praris's emotions had stabilized.

When Prareth mentioned Lockhart, Stella was reminded of Milison. She had heard that Prareth and Milison had fallen out, apparently during Herbology class, over Lockhart.

She certainly didn't think Prarese idolized Lockhart; Prarese's gaze upon Lockhart was the same as Professor Snape's gaze upon Longbottom.

The words "mental retardation" were written on its two eyes.

“Look at him, he has a handsome face and knows how to take care of himself. He has so many honors, and now he’s a professor. He also has so much experience; he seems to have some talent,” Stella said casually. “As for whether all of this is true or not, we don’t need to investigate. The fact that he can put on these facades is a skill in itself, isn’t it?”

“False skills and status are like castles in the air; they may be admired for a time, but they will eventually crumble to pieces,” Praris said, raising his eyes.

Stella shook her head: "Prince, you're a capable person, and you've earned the professor's approval, so of course you'll think that way. But many important figures aren't actually that capable. Take the current Minister of Magic, for example. Is he a powerful wizard? Does he have any extraordinary talent in any area?"

Praris didn't say yes or no; she just shook her head.

“See? As long as we can use him to achieve our goals, who cares if he has any real skills! Whether he falls to his death or not, what does it have to do with us?” Stella laughed, resting her chin on her hand. “I really admire Potter. He clearly hates Lockhart, but he can always play along with him and even took several photos with him.”

"You actually praised a Gryffindor?" Praris was a little surprised.

Stella shifted her posture, her expression unchanged: "At school they are Gryffindor, we are Slytherin, but outside we are all Hogwarts. When needed, we don't care which house or school we're in, we're all friends."

"There are no permanent friends, only permanent interests."

Praris paused for a moment.

Stella suddenly thought of something and smiled: "Of course, with a genius like you, I believe we will have long-term interests. Look, you are from Hogwarts, from Slytherin, and you are my friend. We are on the same team."

Praris didn't dislike this kind of talk. Stella's focus on self-interest made her feel more secure than vague and fleeting emotions that could be withdrawn at any time, even though such feelings were somewhat shallow.

So she nodded in agreement.

“As for Bersde,” Stella rolled her eyes, “you don’t need to be too forceful. Friendship is about finding common ground while respecting differences. We have to allow for differences. She might be waiting for you to back down.”

“Stuart, that’s not how it is,” Praris said, head bowed. “My relationship with Milison depends on her. I’ve signaled to her for reconciliation more than once, but she’s refused to accept it.”

"I really didn't expect that," Stella said, somewhat surprised. She couldn't quite picture Praris bowing his head and begging for peace several times.

“Lockhart is just one of the reasons, and I don’t even think she really likes Lockhart,” Prarese said. “She has her own reasons.”

"Alright, let's not talk about that. You haven't been paying much attention to what's going on in the school lately, have you? Draco joined the Quidditch team."

Praris frowned: "Him? The professor agreed?"

“His dad donated some new brooms. I’m so envious of Marcus riding a new broom. I was born two years too early,” Stella said sourly.

When Praris returned to the lounge with the snacks Stella had given him, he ran into the Quidditch team members who were returning.

Everyone else was tall, and Malfoy formed a "U" among them.

“They’re definitely going to be punished… Oh, Prince,” Malfoy had been speaking loudly, but stopped abruptly when he saw Praris.

Praris held up the bag in his hand: "Marcus, you're really lucky. This is from Miss Stewart."

Marcus laughed heartily and invited everyone to have a late-night snack: "Stella and Pray are treating us to something! You wouldn't believe it, we ran into Gryffindor this morning. That poor Weasley tried to curse Draco, but ended up throwing up himself, his body full of slugs!"

“There must be something wrong with the core,” Prarese said.

"Who knows! He even taped his wand to it," Marcus and his teammates laughed.

Prarese turned to look at Malfoy: "You really have a knack for going against Weasley. He was the one who beat you up last year."

“Last year it was because Longbottom went crazy!” Malfoy scoffed. “He’s so easily provoked. I only said a few words to that Mudblood, didn’t I? Was I not telling the truth?”

The Slytherin players burst into laughter again.

"Who are you talking about?" Praris asked, somewhat puzzled. What was a "Mudblood"?

Malfoy said matter-of-factly, "That Granger, her parents are both Muggles."