HP North Star's Radiance

“Huh?” Florin looked up and said, “This isn’t enough…”

Praris stood on tiptoe: "Then give me the sea salt cheese one—I don't mind! Make it big!"

Florin agreed, scooping out a huge scoop of sea salt cheese ice cream and piling the remaining raspberry cheese on top, making it a double scoop.

"Only half a raspberry left," Florin said with a self-deprecating laugh. "Then I'm going to get one of my eyes poked out!"

The Daily Prophet reported that Florin's body was found by Muggles in the mountains, his death gruesome, with a "strange branch" stuck in his left eye—his wand.

Chapter 257 Buried in Spring

These few lines brought Florin Fosco's life to a close.

Praris knew every single word in those lines, yet they felt utterly unfamiliar, giving her a suffocating, obscure feeling in her chest.

This reminded Praris of the rainy season in London in those years, when the wet, cold rain, carried by the wind, slapped against everyone's face, and the street was like a mirror, reflecting dark, blurry figures, not like shadows, but like ghosts.

Florin Fusco, an extremely ordinary ice cream shop owner in Diagon Alley, is both generous and kind, whose only hobbies are ancient magic and the history of magic, as well as teasing underage wizards.

Because of their shared interest in ancient magic, Florin and Winnie have a particularly "good" relationship. They are like rascals to each other, never giving each other any face.

As an adult, Winnie once tried to cheat her way into getting ice cream, which Florin disliked. The two argued for a while, and in the end, Winnie took the iced watermelon to the door and blocked the shopkeeper's business.

Praris also used to sit outside the ice cream parlor, whiling away the time, watching the sunlight slowly move by. Summers back then seemed incredibly long, as if they would never end.

Summers of my youth stretch long in my memory, like the shadows cast by people at sunset in Diagon Alley. Yet those long summers, like the sunset itself, are fleeting, swallowed up by the night in the blink of an eye.

"I have something to do, I'll be going now." She closed the newspaper with her hand and said calmly to Astoria, "Lia, remember to finish the homework I assigned."

The more turbulent her inner world was, the calmer Praris's expression became; this was one of the skills she relied on to survive.

"Oh!" Astoria quickly replied, "Okay, no problem!"

Praris's mind was blank. She walked up the stairs without thinking or considering anything, just mechanically going up.

Before she knew it, she had arrived at the Astronomical Tower, at the door she hadn't opened in a long time.

Friendships fade very easily. In the process of fading, you may not have done anything, but perhaps it is precisely because you did nothing that friendships have faded.

I don't know when it started, but we began to have all sorts of important things on our minds, more important than doing silly things with friends, so our schedules were filled up. By the time we remembered, we had long since lost the courage to knock on that door again.

Most of the time, there is no love or hate; it's just that those feelings have been washed away by the river of time, turning gray and white.

There was no clear reason for coming here, Praris guessed. Perhaps it was because he saw Miss Stella's name today, perhaps because he was in a bad mood and wanted to drink, perhaps because there were some things he couldn't tell anyone else, or perhaps it was simply because... she wanted to come.

Crunch!

The door to the Astronomy Tower classroom suddenly opened, and Professor Sinister and Prarese looked at each other in surprise.

“Play?” Sinister’s expression turned somewhat grim. “You came to see me?”

"I……"

The next second, Sinister said anxiously, "It's not like I don't know the way. Go in by myself. I need to use the restroom!"

After saying that, she ran away like an African ostrich, washing away most of Praris's sadness.

Sinister's territory remained largely unchanged, with the same wine and snacks stored in the same locations. This stability gave Praris a sense of security.

Not long after, Sinister returned and said casually, "Want something to drink?"

“I thought you would…hate me,” Praris said softly.

Sinister didn't understand: "Why?"

Prare said frankly, "Because of Dumbledore and Professor Snape."

Sinister paused for a moment, the wind outside the Astronomical Tower causing the curtains to billow and make a muffled sound.

“Dumbledore is Dumbledore’s business.” Sinestadt’s hands began to busy themselves, rummaging through the cabinet for drinks and snacks. “Snape is Snape’s business, and you are your business…”

“You’ve heard?” Praris said, her eyes downcast, “about my bad reputation.”

Sinesta's hand paused. A few seconds later, she pulled a bottle of liquor from the cabinet: "It's from my hometown, Kakira gin. I like to add orange juice—want some?"

Praris nodded.

“I graduated from Vargas when I was eighteen,” Sinister said while pouring orange juice. “I didn’t have any ideals or ambitions. I stayed at home every day, eating, drinking, playing, and sleeping all day, and went to the rooftop to look at the stars at night.”

"My friend Scamander, fearing I would starve to death at home, recommended Dumbledore to me—his father's old friend and professor. And so I got my dream job, where I could eat, drink, and have fun during the day and stargaze with the children at night."

Sinister raised his glass and took a sip: "Prareth, I am grateful to Scamander and Dumbledore, but that is my own business."

In Prarese's memory, Sinesta was not someone who liked to talk about the past, but her story was so uniquely her own, that of a hedonistic astronomy enthusiast.

“Praris, I know you, before these words, and beyond these words.” Sinister leaned against the cabinet, one hand resting on a pile of books, his tone as if sleepwalking. “Look at the sky outside—what others say, what is written in books, is not necessarily true. Only what I have seen and verified myself is true.”

Prareas stared intently at Sinister.

Both being astronomy enthusiasts, Deepell Williams and Sinesta were worlds apart. If only he had shared Sinesta's ideals and been willing to spend the time verifying and engaging with him, Prarese's life might have been very different.

“I hope—” Praris gave a very faint smile, “that the real me has lived up to your words.”

Senesta shrugged. "Plareze, don't worry about it. What's the difference between just getting by and being carefree? So, can you tell me now what happened to you?"

Praris nodded.

Sinister found some peanut snacks to go with her drinks and honey chocolate biscuits she'd brought from her hometown. She stacked the books high and placed the plate of snacks on top of them.

“Swear an oath first,” Sinesta said. “I, Aurora Sinesta, will not reveal—”

“Don’t swear, I don’t like swearing,” Praris interrupted her. “I believe you.”

“You don’t understand,” Sinister said confidently. “Every time Stella and I talk about things that can’t be told to others, we have to swear an oath!”

"Are you still discussing secrets that can't be shared?"

"Don't be curious, I won't tell you."

"See, no need to swear, you are perfectly reliable!"

Sinister looked enlightened, stroking his chin as he pondered, "That makes so much sense, I can't even argue with that."

In short, Sinister didn't swear an oath, but he still listened to the story.

“It all started more than six years ago,” Praris said. “For some reason, I spent my summer vacation in Diagon Alley…”

Sinesta didn't ask why, and Prareas didn't say much either. Time seemed to have changed nothing; they still had that same good understanding between them.

“...When Florin died, his wand was stuck in his eye,” Praris said softly. “I don’t believe in fate, and it wasn’t a needle, but it still makes me very uncomfortable.”

“Why?” Sinister asked bluntly. “It wasn’t you who killed Mr. Fosco.”

“That’s right, no.” Praris was unusually confused. “I’m not responsible for Florin’s life, nor do I have any obligation to save him. He was just a passerby who did nothing but show me kindness.”

“Perhaps I just saw the shadows of others in Florin,” Praris said, dissecting his own mind, “those who also showed me kindness.”

Winnie and Ms. Priscilla have been working with the Order of the Phoenix to organize resistance activities.

“Really?” Sinister asked. “Aren’t you simply feeling sorry for Mr. Fosco?”

Praris was silent for a long time before she said, "I guess so. Florin is a very, very good person."

"He does business, but he always does things that don't make money, like giving little wizards ice cream scoops and making the scoops extra big."

"He set up a parasol and a table at the door, so you could sit there without paying and even peek out to chat with the wizards who were sitting there."

"If I were doing my homework there, he would be eager to try some of the assignments, showing a strong desire to become a professor."

"Florin often bickered with one of my sisters. But my sister said that when she was about to leave Diagon Alley, Mr. Florin treated her to shaved ice and said he would wait for them to come back in Diagon Alley."

……

“You remember it very clearly,” Sinesta said.

“I’m not good at forgetting,” Prarese said.

Hermione once told Prarese that she admired Prarese's abilities, but she didn't think having an extraordinary memory was a good thing.

"Forgetting is a human self-protection mechanism," Hermione said clearly. "Only by forgetting some things can we stop living in the past and have the courage to move on."

Praris certainly knew all this, but knowing it didn't really help.

When Hermione said she had used the phrase "forget everything" to describe her parents, Prader remembered these words Hermione had said. She was glad Hermione hadn't thought of it, so she wouldn't be suffocated by the terrifying sense of fate.

Sinesta shook her head: "No, a good memory has nothing to do with that. Right now, if Umbridge and the people you hate are dead, will you feel sad or regretful for her?"

“No.” Prares’s answer was even more decisive than Gryffindor’s decision to break the rules. “Not that compassionate.”

Sinister then said, "Well, if my old friend Scamander died, would you be sad for him?"

"Does Mr. Scamander himself know?" Praris couldn't help but ask.

“He probably doesn’t know, but he’s a good-natured guy and wouldn’t mind me using him to comfort an eighteen-year-old girl.” Sinister shrugged. “Besides, we both know each other, who else do you know the name of but have no feelings for?”

“Perhaps it’s a bit presumptuous—no, it isn’t,” Praris said sincerely, “but I will tell you that I’m sorry.”

“That’s how it is,” Sinister said as bluntly as Prarese. “You’re sad for Mr. Fosco because you established a connection and he showed you kindness. Prarese, you’re sad because you’ve lost an old friend.”

“You’re awful,” Prarese said. “You make it impossible for me to deceive myself.”

Sinister laughed wickedly: "Praris, that Mr. Scamander I just mentioned. He once told me that if a magical creature is injured and its flesh is rotting, you must find the wound, completely remove the rotten flesh, and then use potions and healing herbs to truly heal it."

Others use forgetting to protect themselves, but Praris cannot forget, so she can only protect herself by deceiving herself, pretending that she is not sad about Florin’s death at all, but is only worried about Winnie and Ms. Priscilla.

But Prarese was actually sad; before she was eleven, she had no family. Most of the shop owners in Diagon Alley were "family" whom Prarese herself had chosen.

Florin is a kind, generous, magnanimous, non-aggressive, and completely ordinary wizard who has nothing to do with other conflicts.

Even so, Florin died lightly, like a drop of water falling into the vast ocean of living beings, or like a piece of sodium falling into Praris's heart lake.

“It’s getting dark,” Senesta suddenly said. “Come with me.”

Sinesta's slippers had somehow ended up under some cabinet. So she walked barefoot to the binoculars and showed them to Prarese.

“What did you see?” Sinister asked.

Praris said, "Taurus, you can still see Taurus at this time of year."

“When my father and mother left me one after the other, my astronomy professor told me,” Sinesta suddenly said, “Aurora, all the wizards who died in the world—in Scotland, in Massachusetts, in Brazil, and in Uganda—will be reunited.”

"We die and are buried underground, some of us return to the land that sheltered us, and others rise into the air to meet in the star-filled sky."

"When we come into this world and begin our journey of life, no matter how far we go, we will eventually return to our common home. Death is not the end, but the way home."

Praris looked at the starry sky through the telescope and murmured, "It's March now, spring has arrived."