HP North Star's Radiance

"Ha...haha, Pry, you're really joking," Pansy said dryly. "I don't think before I speak!"

Praris shook his head: "No, it's not me—did you hear? Milison's commentator teacher has gone missing."

Pansy's expression was grim, clearly indicating she already knew: "I told you, that reporter is reckless! Hopefully, he won't drag Millison into this..."

"Don't you think it will implicate you?" Praris asked slowly.

Pansy looked nervously at Praris: "Really?"

Prarese terrified Pansy, but she quickly changed the subject, saying, "I don't know either—let's wait for Milison's news."

Yes, Praris is bedridden now, how could she know things that even the mobile Pansy doesn't know? But Praris's words have stirred up Pansy's worries, making her anxious for Milison.

Pan Xi knew very well that many people in other colleges disliked her and had all sorts of complaints about her behind her back.

But Pansy didn't think there was anything wrong with that! She was a mean, unreasonable, extreme witch who cursed like she was singing and enjoyed watching from the sidelines, and she was proud of being that kind of person.

Pansy firmly believes that one should live like a rose, as passionate and unrestrained as its fragrance. Those negative words used to describe her are her thorns; only those pricked by her will hurl insults and condemn her with such language.

Her love and hate were so vivid, even to the point of being biased. She had an infinitely filtered view of those she loved, and passionately showered her friends with her own fragrance. Towards those she hated, she would raise all her thorns, believing that she would fail if she didn't pierce them through.

Jacob wasn't a local, which reduced the number of people Pansy needed to worry about. But fate still inevitably pushed Pansy's friends to the brink of danger.

First, Praris seemed to be doing something dangerous behind the scenes, and then Millison also started doing dangerous things because of his parents' feud and his commentator teacher.

Even though Pansy sensed something was wrong early on and asked Draco to intervene in Praris, things still turned out the way she didn't want to see—she should have realized that some things are impossible to refuse, just as Draco couldn't refuse to become a Death Eater.

When confronting Ernie McMillan, Pansy mocked him for not daring to trace the origins back to Voldemort, but this was actually her genuine thought, not something she "thoughtlessly" did.

Some Slytherins fanatically worshipped and longed to follow Voldemort, some Slytherins were extremely afraid of Voldemort, and some Slytherins both worshipped and feared Voldemort.

Pansy never had any fanatical worship; she only felt fear towards Voldemort. From a very early age, she began to act like a leaky pipe, going around trying to fix things and hoping that her friends would be careful with their words and actions.

Now, she's starting to swing to the other extreme, hating all of this: if it weren't for Voldemort, Draco wouldn't be the way he is now; he'd still be that arrogant bastard. Milison wouldn't have had to leave for a foreign land, and now his fate is unknown, causing worry. Prareas wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed, a potions genius who strives for precision, yet he's injured his most important hand...

Extremes are Pansy's defining characteristic; she doesn't believe in the hierarchy of who she dares to hate and who she doesn't. She'll keep these thoughts to herself, never uttering them aloud. She can hate whomever she wants—Gryffindor she'll hate, Voldemort she'll hate too!

“Pansy.” Praris reached out to touch Pansy.

Pansy frantically raised her hand to stop Praris: "No, no, no, your fracture hasn't fully healed yet!"

Praris obediently withdrew his hand and said in a reassuring tone, "I thought Milison would be alright."

"You know now?" Pansy forced a smile. "You didn't know just now!"

“Someone showed me the news reports about Anna’s disappearance,” Praris said methodically. “She disappeared while she was at work, and Millie was most likely not with her at that time. Besides, Millie wasn’t alone in Brazil; Aunt Becky was there too. A Slytherin as perceptive as Aunt Becky would have taken precautions beforehand.”

Back when Dumbledore "had just died," before the other students' parents had even arrived, Miss Burst had already taken Millison and boarded the train to escape.

"Are you worried about me?" Pansy said sweetly. "Play, you must be worried about me! Worried that I'm bothered by that bad girl Millie!"

"You guys are such a handful!" Pan sighed dramatically. "You're really a headache! But I'm happy to be happy for you and to worry about you, but it's best if you don't worry!"

Pansy spoke her last addition very quickly, as if afraid that her words might come true.

Prareas smiled, his eyes crinkling as he looked at Pansy. Seeing Prareas like this, Pansy's tone brightened as well: "Prareas, you should smile more. I like the way you smile; you look much prettier than when you smile. Of course, you look pretty at other times too."

"You know, if only time could turn back! I really want to go back to when Marcus and Farley were prefects! We were so happy back then, sitting under the trees by the Black Lake, sneaking drinks, but never inviting Marcus!"

Thinking of this, Pansy revealed a mischievous smile.

It's not just the students from the other three houses who are nostalgic for the past; it's as if Slytherin is now complacent and everyone is arrogant.

Draco misses his carefree teenage years, Pansy misses the happy times when everyone was together, and Praris misses those beautiful, sunny summers.

"Are you sure?" Praris raised an eyebrow, teasingly adding, "Back then, you were still infatuated with Draco!"

"Ah!" Pansy suddenly felt a sense of shared experience with Draco. What a terrifying creature it was to have a girlfriend with such a good memory! She said in a panic, "Never mind, never mind, it's yours!"

“It’s not mine, it doesn’t belong to anyone,” Praris said slowly. “It’s just that we’re together.”

Pansy chuckled: "You two are so particular, no wonder you're together!"

Seeing Pansy's rare happy expression, Praris smiled quietly, looking gently at the girl who was as lively as a chirping little bird.

As the situation at Hogwarts worsened, Prarese briefly considered softening Pansy's stance, just as he had tried to win over Astoria.

Praris is fully capable of this.

Based on the feelings between the two, Pansy's true thoughts, and the fact that Pansy was never a pureblood, turning her into an ally like Astoria was as easy as eating and drinking.

But when it came to the end, Praris backed down.

Pansy may not have realized how sad, worried, and resentful she was! And the source of all this was her love for Millison and Praris.

When a person witnesses such sincere love, they cannot remain rational, cannot bear to betray it, and will involuntarily hold it carefully in their hands, as if holding a fragile gem.

Praris heard everything Pansy said.

Praris understood Pansy's thoughts.

She knows her, just as she knows her.

She loved her, just as she loved her.

Praris knew that Pansy harbored resentment towards Voldemort, and that this girl would not willingly become a Death Eater, nor would she be happy to stand on Voldemort's side—regardless of whether the Death Eaters had any intention of recruiting Pansy.

Based on the principle that "the enemy of my enemy is my friend," there was nothing wrong with Praris doing this. But Praris gave up at the very last moment.

It's not wrong to take advantage of someone, but it's a heinous crime to take advantage of someone who loves you.

If Pansy were to decide to do this one day, it would have to be her own decision, without any other "impurities" mixed in.

There is no rational reason.

When Pansy looked at Praris, it was all already destined.

Chapter 268 Invitation

Praris has been discharged from the hospital.

To be precise, she had to be discharged from the hospital.

If she stayed any longer, Madam Pomfrey's impression of Praris would soon change from a well-behaved and kind potions genius to a little rascal who rivals Dracodon.

"That's right," Barron said, suppressing a laugh. "Mrs. Pomfrey has never forgotten how Draco cried and howled over a minor injury back then."

Prarese had fully recovered, but in order to emphasize the seriousness of the accident and to pave the way for postponing the experiment, she deliberately stayed in bed for several more days.

It's worth noting that even when Lockhart removed the bone from Harry's arm, the time it took for the bone to grow back wasn't as long as Prader spent in the infirmary.

That's the wonder of potions; while they can't bring the dead back to life, they can at least heal the wounded. As long as the injury doesn't involve magic or dark magic, it can heal at a speed unimaginable to ordinary people.

However, this accident had absolutely nothing to do with magic.

According to Prarese's calculations, Voldemort's childhood took place in the 1930s, when the best education for orphans was the "3Rs" (reading, writing, and arithmetic) and religious knowledge.

In other words, while Prareas is not yet certain whether Voldemort received a Muggle education before Hogwarts, given Voldemort's pure-blood doctrine and the highest level of orphan education in the 1930s, his understanding of chemistry certainly did not match that of Prareas, who was well-versed in Muggle literature.

Naturally, he also had little chance of realizing that what Neville threw out that caused the terrifying explosion was actually "metallic sodium," not some kind of dark magic item.

For the reasons mentioned above, Praris plans to stay in bed for a few more days so that his injuries match what Neville said under the influence of the Truth Potion: that "sodium metal" was a dark magic item purchased in Knockturn Alley.

Another reason is that Neville ran away.

Currently, Praris, like most Hogwarts students, doesn't yet know how Neville escaped—whether the DA organized a special rescue or Neville took the opportunity to sneak out.

In short, Neville didn't survive the punishment; he "disappeared" from Amycus Carroll's office. And before he disappeared, he was even chained up. These chains were supposedly old Hogwarts artifacts provided by Filch!

Neville's fame soared after thwarting Prareus's "plot" and escaping persecution from the Carrow siblings, and all the Gryffindors were proud of him.

Now, Neville has gone into hiding. He neither returns to the common room nor attends classes, making it impossible for the Caro siblings to find or do anything about him.

However, the growing strength of the Death Eaters also led to a weakening of their leadership. This forced the management to use stronger measures to suppress resistance and maintain control, effectively increasing the pressure on Professor Snape.

Praliss must be discharged so the students know her condition isn't serious. Only by proving Neville couldn't really do anything to her can the DA's rising arrogance be somewhat quelled.

It's like walking a tightrope over a cliff; she can't appear to have recovered too well, nor can she give the impression that she won't recover anytime soon.

"Are you really all better?" Draco still couldn't bring himself to say anything nice. "I don't want to carry you to the infirmary again!"

Praris didn't question whether he thought she was too heavy; instead, she said casually, "I understand—you're not strong enough, are you?"

"Not strong enough?" Draco's voice rose in anger at these words. He looked left and right, gritted his teeth, and said in a low voice, "Who's not strong enough? I carried you from the ground floor to the second floor in one go, without stopping for a second!"

Praris sometimes felt that Draco was like a small dog, not very dangerous but always barking loudly, mainly because he couldn't lose in terms of imposing presence.

The two walked side by side down the second-floor corridor. Draco lowered his head and leaned close to Praris, patting his stomach as if trying to prove his ability.

Draco was just casually patting him, but he didn't expect Praris to actually touch him! As soon as Praris touched Draco's stomach, he arched his back and quickly shrank back.

Praris blinked his dark eyes wide, his surprise clearly visible.

Draco has truly embodied the phrase "all bark and no bite" in his actions. He's ticklish everywhere else, yet he has ticklish spots on his stomach?

That's strange, how come I never noticed it before?

This isn't the first time she's harassed a respectable young man like this!

"No!" Draco vehemently denied. "What are you thinking! I didn't! This is a corridor, you know? This is a corridor!"

"Really?" Praris covered her mouth feigning surprise. "Really? Is this really too sudden?"

Draco, oblivious to Praris's teasing, kept explaining, "Haven't you ever touched me before? You know I'm not ticklish!"

“I don’t remember.” Praris mimicked Draco’s tone matter-of-factly. “You know I’ve injured my head! I’m not very bright now, how could I possibly remember whether I touched your abs or not?”

"Then touch me again—" Draco's words trailed off, and he said rather unhappily, "Is that interesting?"

He almost fell into Praris's trap and invited her to touch him in the hallway!

“Not quite there, didn’t quite get a feel for it,” Praris teased him cheerfully. “Draco, you’re such a conservative boy!”

“Yes, absolutely right,” Draco drawled, “compared to what you said!”

To be honest, Draco's abs feel and look top-notch.

For men, excessive muscle building can make them lose their aesthetic appeal, appearing bloated and grotesque, and giving off a dirty impression. Conversely, a lack of exercise can make them look like a fat, white pig, layer upon layer of flesh, with fat seemingly about to ooze oil from between the muscles.

Draco was thin and tall. During his growth spurt a few years ago, he grew so fast that his wizard robes hung loosely on him, making him look like a coat rack. Although he was very thin, he had undergone several years of hard Quidditch training and naturally developed well-defined muscles.

Unlike the batters and chasers who wield bats, his training doesn't require as much physical exertion, so his muscles aren't as well-developed as others. His muscles are sculpted to fit his body's curves, and his skin is white and thin, so delicate that even a light touch would cause him to blush with embarrassment—referring to his face.

People with fair skin blush with a light pink hue, and Praris finds this color very attractive, so she is keen to provoke Draco and make him lose his composure.

Okay, Prasris has to admit, she does have some sympathy. Some Slytherin boys thought Draco wasn't manly enough—so Prasris gave them a piece of her mind, you tasteless bastards!