HP North Star's Radiance

Snape led Prareus through the horde of Dementors.

In the past, he had taught Praris how to use the Patronus Charm, but Death Eaters usually cannot summon a Patronus, nor do they need to, because dark wizards and Dementors are equally sinful.

Besides the Patronus Charm, there are other ways to deal with Dementors, such as using Occlumency well enough—this is where Snape and Harry disagreed on how to fight Dementors.

Occlumency is a defense mechanism used to hide and protect the mind, while Dementors rely entirely on emotions and mental states to identify a person.

Therefore, it can be deduced that if a wizard uses Occlumency to adjust his thoughts and feelings to resemble those of a dark wizard, he can be ignored by Dementors.

Upon reaching the iron gate, Snape asked Prares to take his right hand, while he raised his left arm high in a gesture as if in a bow, and the two of them passed through the iron gate together.

Unlike last time, Pralis felt a distinct resistance when entering. Voldemort seemed to have enhanced his ability to detect magic on the door. If she and Dumbledore had encountered this door before, they probably wouldn't have been able to fool it so easily.

Of course, these thoughts were drowned out by her extensive analysis of the gate magic, as if she were simply analyzing the relationship between the Dark Mark and the Magic Iron Gate to this day.

Beyond the iron gate lay a garden and a pebbled path, just as before. They passed smoothly through the garden and arrived at the mansion gate. No one opened the gate, but it opened automatically.

Upon entering through the main gate, one arrives at the foyer. This time, having entered through normal channels, Praris finally has a chance to see what Malfoy Manor looks like.

Praris's eyes darted around, and the gazes of the pale portraits on the wall followed them closely, like surveillance cameras on the streets of London, except that Muggle surveillance cameras don't turn around—maybe they will in the future!

“Severus!” Before they even crossed the corridor, they encountered the house’s owner—Lucius Malfoy. He glanced at Praris and said meaningfully, “This is…it seems this must be Miss Prince? Draco has mentioned you to me several times.”

Lucius looked completely different from his former radiant self. He was pale, haggard, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

Draco told Praris that, under pressure from him, Lady Narcissa tacitly approved of their relationship. It's likely that Lucius was not entirely unaware of this.

Prareus nodded, revealing only the lower half of his face hidden by his cloak, and said in a low voice, "Mr. Malfoy, Draco has also mentioned you to me many times."

That wasn't just many times, it was a very, very many times, almost to the point of becoming a catchphrase.

Snape said coldly, "Lucius, let's put aside this small talk—Miss Prince and I have to see our master!"

Having said that, Snape strode forward. Prareus nodded slightly to Lucius and quickly followed.

Chapter 271 A Show of Force

Prarese had imagined how he would meet Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy.

She guessed that perhaps after the war ended, Draco would fulfill his promise and come with Praris to his parents to formally introduce them.

However, there is a world of difference between ideals and reality. Prarese, wearing a cloak, arrives at Malfoy Manor as an uninvited guest and meets Draco's father, who is haggard after his imprisonment.

In fact, this was not the first time Praris had met Lucius and Narcissa, but it was the first time he had openly visited Malfoy Manor and greeted them face to face—or perhaps not so openly, since they were not face to face.

This time, Praris finally got a clear view of the interior of Draco's house.

Malfoy Manor was completely different from when she had first arrived. The corridors were now incredibly long, and the ceilings were so high they were dizzying—it was as if the world had turned upside down, and she was flying on the ground while the ceiling was on the ground some distance away.

The house was spacious and quiet; one could imagine the sound of boot heels hitting the floor. However, the thick handmade carpets covering the corridors absorbed most of the noise, making the place even more tranquil.

The dissonance between the senses and reality is unsettling, and the feeling of being stared at by "people" is also unpleasant, especially since the gazes in portraits are always so direct.

Fortunately, the only constant anchor point was that Professor Snape still walked so fast, his cloak fluttering in the air, making a familiar sound that was reassuring.

Turning right at the end of the corridor, a magnificent wooden door with intricate patterns came into view. Snape stopped before the door—a sign that behind it lay the place where her destiny was about to change.

Snape slowly turned around, staring intently at Pralis, his gaze as calm as a still pond: "Miss Pralis, I believe you are not a fool. You know what you should and shouldn't do, what you should and shouldn't say. It is your honor to serve your master. Cherish this opportunity!"

The professor offered no words of comfort.

He didn't stop to offer comfort.

If he still needed to soothe Praris's emotions at this point, Praris wouldn't survive the night. Since he wouldn't live to see the night, there was no need to waste words—after all, the dead don't need comforting.

The stop was to give Praris a buffer, allowing her to get into the best possible condition before meeting Voldemort.

After speaking, Snape reached out and pushed open the door, behind which was an elegantly decorated drawing room.

The ceiling and walls of the reception room were decorated with plaster cornices and exquisite reliefs. In the center of the room was a huge pure white crystal chandelier holding unlit candles. Huge landscape paintings hung on the walls—presumably because the wizards in them had run away in fear. The cabinets and most of the furniture were made of walnut wood, and the armchairs and backpacks were lined with dark green velvet brocade.

However, in the dim firelight and heavy atmosphere, all these beautiful things seemed somewhat dimmed.

In late March, springtime was still chilly, with the weather fluctuating between warm and cold. A lingering chill remained in Wiltshire. The drawing room was unlit, with only the crackling of the fireplace providing warmth and light.

The sound of water evaporating as the coal burned inexplicably reminded Praris of the Druid ritual of human sacrifice, in which living people were placed inside huge wooden statues and burned, also known as "willow people".

However, the fireplace wasn't burning wood, and there were no druids here; she had simply offered herself up and chosen to be roasted over the fire.

When Prareus and Snape entered the drawing room, there were three other people besides Voldemort.

Closest to them stood a witch with long, disheveled, thick black hair. She resembled Lady Narcissa, her face gaunt but still retaining traces of her former beauty. The witch stood by the fireplace, her eyes fixed on Praris and Snape, filled with undisguised malice.

This is undoubtedly Draco's aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Seated in an armchair was a wizard draped in a wide cloak, who, judging by his build, was either a witch or a short, thin wizard. He was hunched over, head bowed, and silent, appearing to be very old.

In the middle of the carpet in the drawing room, a wizard, also dressed in a black cloak, lay prostrate. This wizard was on his forelimbs, his forehead pressed tightly against the carpet, his whole body trembling like a leaf, his teeth chattering with a soft, frequent clicking sound.

The furthest away from them was probably Voldemort himself. He wore a long black robe, stood with his back to the crowd, hands clasped behind his back, in front of the glass window. The robe didn't seem to be ordinary clothing; it looked more like some kind of black smoke.

The firelight from the fireplace in the living room flickered on and off each person, sometimes bright, sometimes dim.

After Snape brought Prareas in, he didn't say anything, but just stood silently to the side waiting for something.

“Roll.” Voldemort called the name of the Death Eater crawling on the ground, hissing like a snake, a sound that was damp, sticky, and cold. “Tell me, what ‘good news’ have you brought me, hmm?”

Luo Er didn't dare move, but fear still gripped him. His voice trembled as he said, "Master...we...we've lost them!"

He racked his brains, frantically trying to justify his mistake: "That boy is too cunning. We've restarted the search for him, and we should find him soon!"

However, he was unaware that he was merely a tool Voldemort used to intimidate Praris. Even with his silver tongue, he had no chance of escaping punishment today.

“Lost him.” Voldemort’s tone was flat, as if he were merely stating a fact. “Such understated words. I’ve given you more than once, and it means you’ve failed again, and disappointed me again.”

Voldemort slowly raised his wand, pointing it at the groveling Raoul on the ground. He raised the wand, but instead of immediately punishing Raoul, he glanced in the direction of Prader and Snape with his crimson eyes with vertical pupils.

He turned his gaze back to Rol, his voice soft yet incredibly clear: “Pain is an exceptional, infinitely pure educator; it sharpens your senses and re-coalesces your scattered will.”

"Heart-piercing and bone-scraping!"

Luo's piercing screams echoed throughout the drawing room. He writhed and rolled like a severed octopus tentacle, bouncing up and falling back down, unable to utter a single word of pleading.

For the first few seconds, Rol's body reacted somewhat as the Cruciatus Curse intensified. After a few seconds, his pupils began to dilate, and his chest occasionally trembled violently.

At this point, Voldemort's "punishment" finally ended.

During the approximately ten seconds of punishing Roll, Voldemort's gaze did not fall on Roll, but instead on Praris—he was admiring Praris's reaction.

Voldemort's words sounded familiar to Praris; in a split second, she recalled them—they were lines from Baudelaire: "Suffering is the finest, purest of fragrances, enough to inspire the strong to embrace divine joy!"

How ironic!

However, Praris couldn't think that way, as it would undoubtedly expose her mixed-race identity.

In the reception room, facing Luo Er's miserable state, she stood behind her mentor with a thoughtful expression, seemingly pondering something seriously.

After finishing his punishment of Rolpe, Voldemort immediately invaded Praris's mind and used Legilimency on her.

Prasrix easily detected Voldemort's actions. This was partly because Voldemort made no attempt to conceal his intentions, seemingly believing Prasrix could not deceive him; and partly because Prasrix's mind was her greatest weapon and most loyal friend. She understood her own mind as well as Voldemort was adept at the Killing Curse.

After Voldemort began punishing Roll, Praris "remembered" something.

"According to the Black Magic researcher and healer, Madam Pomfrey, there is no definite timeline for the Crucifixion Curse. Some believe that before a certain time, a wizard afflicted by the Crucifixion Curse would not collapse, and after that time, they would collapse."

"In fact, in the St. Mungo's clinical trials, the Cruciatus Curse did not occur at such a time, nor was it particularly clear as magic."

"The timing of this spell's collapse is considered by healers to be related to the user's strength. For those cowards who dare not use the Cruciatus Curse, it won't be effective even after several tens or half a minute."

"And a powerful dark wizard like the Dark Lord could make this Rol suffer unbearable pain in just a few seconds—the Dark Lord truly lives up to his name."

"Speaking of which, Professor Carlo was in charge of teaching the Cruciatus Curse. His Cruciatus Curse is already quite skilled and powerful, but it's still far inferior to the Dark Lord's. Under the same time scale..."

Praris had a draft of a study on the Crucifixion in his mind: a comparative study on the effects of the Crucifixion's duration and intensity on the user.

At the same time, she also recalled St. Mungo's research on the Cruciatus Curse, as well as the development of healing potions for mild and severe cases.

Books, documents, expert interviews, and case studies—both classroom lessons and the punishment Voldemort was right before her eyes—flew through Praris's mind like snowflakes.

The difficulty in understanding Praris's thoughts lies not in the difficulty of the content itself—which was not difficult for Voldemort at all—but in the sheer volume and complexity of it. After all, Voldemort was a genius, only he didn't use his genius in potions.

Praris's mind was swirling with far too many thoughts at once. If Voldemort were to actually read and understand them all, the cost-effectiveness would be practically nonexistent.

The torture inflicted on Rol did not frighten the girl, but Voldemort was not disappointed. He allowed his men to have extraordinary individuals, as long as Praris's worth matched her courage.

The failure of intimidation, to some extent, also proves the witch's indifference. This shows that she lacks a universal moral compass, making her perfectly suited to complete Voldemort's task: the research into potions involving the soul.

After the punishment ended, Luo Er almost "melted" on the carpet like a rubber man, and the whole room was silent.

The confrontation between Voldemort and Praris seemed to last a long time, but in reality it only took a few seconds.

“Snape…Miss Prince, is that right?” Voldemort’s red eyes fell on the two of them, and he said calmly, “You’ve come! Sit down, take the chair next to Miss Sylvia.”

His tone remained calm, as if nothing had just happened.

As Voldemort finished speaking, Prasris's left index and middle fingers twitched beneath her cloak. But she didn't reveal a single detail, simply bowing her head obediently and following Snape's footsteps.

“What a coincidence,” Voldemort said meaningfully, “you all have the surname Prince.”

Praliss paused, seemingly completely taken aback by the coincidence. She first instinctively looked up at Voldemort, then immediately realized her mistake, quickly lowered her head, and finally turned to look at Snape.

Snape glanced at her calmly: "Miss, answer your master's question."

Praris nodded slightly and said softly, "Master... I'm not sure... My mother left me a long time ago. My father's surname was probably Prince, but I hardly remember him anymore. He wasn't involved in my upbringing."

Research requires rigor, and Prader is a rigorous person. She uses modal particles such as "uncertain," "approximately," and "almost"—which represent possibility—with masterful skill.

Praliss wasn't a Death Eater yet. Logically, she wasn't qualified to call him "Master." But since she was just going along with Snape's words, and Voldemort hadn't objected, no one immediately contradicted her.

Voldemort wasn't particularly suspicious; he was just naturally paranoid and was merely testing the waters.

At the Ministry of Magic, there's a file Prince filled out himself, which Voldemort had already seen. The girl's mother is the deceased Ella Rozier, and there's proof of her membership in the Flint family.

Clearly, a pureblood.

Both the Rosier and Flint families are traditional pure-blood families and would not allow family members to marry Mudbloods or Muggles. Since Flint testified for her, there was nothing to doubt. At least in Voldemort's eyes, a person cannot have two mothers.

This matter came on so easily, and then it was just swept under the rug.

Snape sat down first in the chair closest to Voldemort, and Prader followed closely behind. This student-like and childlike behavior further demonstrated her purity as a researcher.

After taking his seat, Snape said, “Master, the report on the euphoric potion and the accident is complete. As you command, I have brought its creator here.”

Chapter 272 Brand