HP North Star's Radiance

Dumbledore understood that he had to let go in order to truly train his three children. But letting go didn't mean abandoning them; he couldn't let Harry really die, so he kept a close eye on the children from a distance.

Along the way, Dumbledore nearly used up all of Prasris's Polyjuice Potion and used a wand he found to save many people. He pointed out the way to the Muggle-born wizards, directing them to the area protected by the Order of the Phoenix.

Among them were Tonks' father and several Hogwarts students, including Meryl, Grace Jones, and Dean Thomas—these children did not know, nor did they need to know, that the one who saved them was the "dead" headmaster Dumbledore.

Before Dumbledore returned to the Hog's Head, Harry and his friends were unexpectedly captured by the search party. Dumbledore spent the entire journey looking for an opportunity to rescue them without revealing himself.

He knew that his existence could not be discovered, otherwise Voldemort would not let Snape go, and Hogwarts would be plunged into an even more dire and dangerous situation, or even fall completely into the hands of the real Death Eaters.

After rescuing the children and Dobby the house-elf, Harry and his friends were very grateful to the mysterious Mr. Walder, but Dumbledore just wanted to leave as soon as possible—after such a long time, even the Polyjuice Potion made by Prarese would lose its effectiveness.

“I’m not sure…” Dumbledore said softly, “whether Harry saw my two hands of different colors under my cloak.”

When Dumbledore rose from the grave, he found himself groomed and dressed in his favorite glittering magic robes.

These things are not important. What is important is that he certainly wasn't wearing those fancy women's gloves at the time.

In other words, Harry might know that Dumbledore's two hands are different colors. And the wizard who suddenly appeared and saved them, hidden under the mysterious cloak, also had two hands of different colors!

Praris felt dizzy after hearing this.

Prader knew all too well Harry and his friends' investigative abilities. If Harry knew anything about the hand, they couldn't help but suspect Dumbledore.

Given Harry's incomplete mastery of Occlumency, it's not impossible that he might have leaked the information due to his surprise and distraction...

"Have you informed Professor Snape?" Prareas asked the most important question immediately.

Dumbledore said, "Of course."

After leaving Harry, Dumbledore's first action was to send his Patronus to inform Snape, and only then did he return to the Hog's Head.

Praris closed his eyes and thought for a moment: "I don't think things are that bad. Harry graduated from my Occlumency training, so the Man of Voldemort might not know that clearly."

“Harry can see the scene on the other side, usually when the Mystic is emotionally unstable. But he only has emotions, not thoughts.”

Harry could sense Voldemort's emotions, but he couldn't know what the other was thinking; otherwise, he wouldn't have been fooled.

"So even if the Man from Nowhere saw it, he could only see Harry's emotions toward your hand. He couldn't know Harry's current thoughts or why Harry was so shocked by a hand."

"But your hands are different; not everyone at the funeral can see them. Hagrid carried you to the table, probably because he was changing clothes. In the front row were Scrimgeour, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Slughorn."

Scrimgeour is dead, and the other five won't reveal this to Voldemort, including Slughorn—who has already chosen sides and told Harry about the Horcruxes.

“In that case…” Dumbledore said gently, “Harry will not know about my hand.”

If only Hagrid and the people in the front row at the funeral knew about Dumbledore's hands, why would Harry be surprised by "Mr. Wald's" hands?

Prarese said, "Unless Hagrid told Harry about it, Hagrid was present when Harry was transferred as an adult."

The fake corpses in the cemetery were enough to make Voldemort suspicious, but Dumbledore's wand made up for it well—a wand is like a wizard's third hand. But if you add someone who resembles Dumbledore, things won't be so easy to fool.

Now, it's a gamble whether Harry knows the truth or whether Voldemort has become suspicious.

In any case, Dumbledore's decision to inform Professor Snape immediately was the best one, giving Professor Snape time to react and preventing him from being caught off guard.

Chapter 239 Significance

Thick grime had accumulated on the windows of the Pig Head Bar, preventing outside light from penetrating even after it was refracted through the snow, making the room both dim and reassuring.

The room's light source is the fireplace, a great human invention that represents humanity's will to fight against the cruelty of nature—the essence of human life is nonconformity.

In the warm room, Praris racked his brains and busied himself making various remedies to snatch people from the clutches of death.

At times like these, Prass would occasionally miss her mentor, Professor Snape, and feel that if Professor Snape were here, she would have someone to talk to and ask questions.

But the reality is that she has been gradually drifting away from her mentor and "walking" on her own for quite some time. It's just that when people face difficulties, they always easily think of the people who taught them and miss the days when they had someone to rely on.

“You ask how long I can live…” Praris said slowly, “Why would you ask me that question? You should ask yourself that question.”

"If you rest and take more medicine, and recuperate for a few years, you might be able to return to the state you were in before the curse. But if you continue to act so frequently, wanting to live longer, isn't that a bit too greedy?"

“If I could, I would rather not have had the chance to be greedy—the world should be left to the young; merely existing is tiresome. But unfortunately, I am always soft-hearted.” Dumbledore smiled at Praris. “Child, can you help me live to see six months from now?”

Prass looked up and met Dumbledore's beautiful blue eyes. She asked, "You've entrusted this matter to me?"

“Of course.” Dumbledore’s eyes were full of trust. “I’ve met many talented and capable people, and you are one of them.”

“I’m definitely not one of those people you’re talking about.” Praris didn’t want the pie, but she lowered her head and said, “Of course, since I saved you, you won’t die so easily.”

Dumbledore chuckled softly, then coughed incessantly as if he were choking on his own laughter.

Like Mundungus, Aberforth was a wizard in the gray area, but he was far more reliable than Mundungus. Even in such dire circumstances, he could still meet almost all of Praris's needs.

Aberforth felt the same way about Praris; he also thought Praris was very reliable, but sometimes he didn't want her to be too reliable.

Thanks to Prares's various miraculous little potions, Dumbledore was able to sit up on the second day, walk around on the third day, and by the fourth day he was already thinking about going out and causing trouble...

"You should let some people lie in bed a few more days!" Abu Fusi, who came to deliver the herbs, said gruffly. "Otherwise, they'll always forget the pain once the wound heals and think they're still young!"

Prarese understood what Aberforth meant, but she couldn't do that: "You're right, it's a pity my Christmas holiday isn't that long, otherwise Headmaster Dumbledore would have continued to love this bed."

With Christmas over, the return to school was drawing ever closer. Hogwarts was under tight surveillance to keep Harry under control, and everything entering and leaving had to be inspected. Therefore, she needed to gather all the potions Dumbledore required before returning to school.

After working tirelessly day and night, Praris finally managed to get everything ready before the start of the school year.

But while Dumbledore recovered, Prader looked utterly dejected, as if Dumbledore had drained her life force.

Dumbledore, that shameless old man, naturally wouldn't admit to Aberforth's claim. He praised Praris's abilities at length, and that was it—earning him only a cold laugh from Praris.

Praris took out all the potions from the suitcase and handed them to Dumbledore and Aberforth respectively, then put in the Galleons that Aberforth had paid and the gifts he had bought on behalf of others.

"Is this the most luxurious soap liquid?" Praris asked, holding up the bottle with an air of utter disbelief.

Aberforth rolled his eyes: "I must tell you, there is no such thing as the most luxurious soap in the world!"

“Then what is this?” Praris asked. “I can’t possibly not know what ‘I’ve’ bought, can I?”

Aberforth explained, "This is a soap liquid made by Veela, which has a similar effect to the scent of aphrodisiacs. When dropped into water, it creates a beautiful and imaginary dreamscape, at least fulfilling your idea of ​​romance."

“Wow—” Praris pressed his advantage, “Would it work on ghosts?”

"It's no use!" Aberforth snapped, unable to contain himself any longer. "The ghost is dead! Do you even know what 'dead' means? Dead means—dead. Dead people don't have the sensory organs of the living!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" Praris muttered under her breath, "That's no use..."

"That's all we have. Take it or leave it. There's nothing more!" Aberforth was almost driven mad by Praris. He said angrily, "You should see how you make demands. How are you any different from Albus?"

Praris looked on in surprise: "Really? Then I've really gone too far. I'm so sorry, Aberforth!"

Dumbledore, who was sitting to the side, was mocked by the two.

After packing her things, Prader briefly explained the situation at the school to Dumbledore. She described the expansion of the D.A. and the growth of Neville and his two companions, and did not hide the fact that she had almost been tempted by the Dark Arts.

“My children, you have all done very well,” Dumbledore said with satisfaction. “Even without me, you have managed to resist the darkness.”

Prareas realized that Dumbledore was still conflicted. The opinions of the wizarding world had not been unaffected by him; although he had a goal, he did not believe that his life had any meaning.

He seemed to have this idea that his death wouldn't change anything, and people could still follow his original plan. So what was the meaning of life?

“Not so.” Praris shook his head. “I believe that if Harry had to choose between hating the living you and loving the dead you, he would choose the former without hesitation.”

Dumbledore smiled when he heard this, but he wasn't pleased that someone expected him to live.

“Harry is a kind boy,” Dumbledore said with a touch of emotion. “I showed him some of the memories, and for a moment I even felt that he was sympathizing with young Tom Riddle.”

This sounds really weird. Prarese believed there might be some unspoken premise, but no matter how tragic Voldemort's past was, she wouldn't sympathize with him.

Prarese had a past of abandonment, growing up as an orphan and suffering greatly in a convent. Black Rose Lane was in London, but she never sought revenge against the Muggles. She even encountered Sophia Joseph, a child who had also grown up in a convent.

When Praris gained power, she was able to see the Maria Monastery in a different light. She didn't hate them, but she wouldn't forgive them either, so she distanced herself from them.

To Muggles, magic is an incomprehensible thing. No wonder they didn't consider Praris a "good kid." But the harm they caused Praris was real, so Praris can never forgive her past self.

Thinking further ahead, Prarese calmly said to Dumbledore, "No, I don't think Harry made that choice solely out of kindness. He came to me because of you, wanting to hate me because Professor Snape 'killed' you."

“You truly left a mark on his life, which fundamentally changed him and made him feel affection for you. Harry wasn’t the only one like that; Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Madam Sprout, and Professor Slughorn, and many others… I attended the funeral. Indeed, some people’s tears were insincere, but many were genuinely saddened for you.”

Dumbledore laughed merrily: "Child, are you trying to comfort me?"

“You don’t have to laugh if you don’t want to,” Prarese said. “It doesn’t mean anything to me anyway.”

He finally calmed down and added, "That's called optimism."

Dumbledore was always relaxed, easygoing, gentle, and cheerful, as if nothing in the world was a big deal. But in front of Prader, he finally had to take off his mask and admit that he wasn't actually feeling very well.

When he decided to die, when he decided to let Snape kill him, when he decided to let Harry bear it all alone... when he changed his mind and faked his death for some unspeakable reason.

Dumbledore felt guilty towards Harry, even though he knew Harry would eventually survive, but that didn't mean the pain and torment along the way didn't exist.

Dumbledore also felt guilty towards Prasri. He gave the child the opportunity to receive love, allowing Prasri to mend and patch up a home that could barely be considered warm, and then let him grow up healthy, strong, kind, and resilient, only to destroy it later.

He did not deny that he saw a younger version of himself in Snape, so he decided to make Snape part of the plan.

However, in the process of guiding Prares onto the right path, the uncle and nephew developed a unique and deep bond—Snape was no longer alone.

Dumbledore once believed that Snape and he were both penitents with only a past and no future. But with the existence of Prader, Dumbledore could no longer treat Snape as a mere tool like himself, indifferent to his soul and his life or death—in any case, Snape himself didn't particularly care.

He realized he couldn't do it—he couldn't use an innocent child to save more lives, only to then rob her of the meager happiness in her life.

How rare! He thought he had already hardened his heart!

“Sir, this world is wondrous. Only humans can give meaning and care about meaning,” Praris suddenly said with a smile. “Look, a wand is just a piece of wood, and a table is also wood. To wood, wood is just wood. But in the hands of a wizard, it becomes a wand; in the eyes of a wizard, it becomes a lifelong companion.”

Dumbledore didn't know why Prareth was saying these things, and he waited with interest for the boy to continue.

Praris said, "As you may know, in Hogwarts, the headmaster in the hearts of most people is not Professor Snape, but you—including me and Professor Snape."

"Over the years, you've made it a consensus that even the Ministry of Magic's orders can't change. That's the meaning you've given it—by the way, the password for the Headmaster's office is 'Dumbledore.'"

Dumbledore is not a fragile person; he has been through too much without being shaken or defeated. Such occasional low moods, even for someone as relatively vulnerable as he is now, will only be temporary.

He was able to get through it, but that doesn't mean he has to bear it all alone. Prarese saw it, and feeling responsible as a "physician," she couldn't ignore the existence of this pain.

“Live longer, sir, more than six months,” Praris said. “Aren’t those who want you to live more important than those who want you dead?”

Dumbledore didn't need these words of comfort, but he still smiled from the bottom of his heart after hearing them.

“I’ll take you to the train station,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Winnie and Prim said they used to try to pick you up and drop you off every year.”

Prarese did not refuse, even though it would cost her her compound decoction.

Since the Hogwarts Express departs at 11:00 AM, Praris had to leave for London a day earlier. Having recently thought about the monastery, Praris decided to visit Tulip Street.

The road in front of the monastery wasn't covered in snow; it was a clean stone path. Praris knew that the girls had gotten up before dawn to clean it.

It was already afternoon by then, and there was usually vocational skills training. In summer and autumn, there was more agricultural work and livestock care, while in spring and winter, there were more handicraft activities. Girls often learned embroidery, sewing, and cooking. Some children were assigned to cleaning, helping in the kitchen, and doing laundry.