HP North Star's Radiance

Between the window and the bookshelf, there was a small walnut table, covered with a lamp, Draco's books, and some odds and ends.

Praris spotted the photos on the bookshelf immediately, walked over quickly, picked them up, and made a joking "Oh!" sound.

Draco's eyes widened immediately, and he rushed over to Praris, ready to snatch the photo frame.

Praris glanced at him, and he stood still again, stubbornly saying, "I don't see anything strange about it. Everyone has a childhood, right? I know, you probably think I was exceptionally handsome back then..."

“No,” Praris interrupted him. “You were much cuter as a child than when you first started school—or worse.”

"You want more?" Draco asked in surprise. Pansy said it was Draco's honor; after hearing it so many times, he was completely immune to the idea that "Plareze thinks he's cute."

Praris naturally retorted, "Why not?"

Young Draco didn't seem as arrogant and domineering as his first-grader self. In the photo, Draco is carrying a bucket that was a bit too big for him at the time.

Draco held up the bucket, and several peacocks buried their heads in it. This seemed to intrigue Draco, who peered curiously at the peacocks as they ate.

Draco explained, "At that time, my dad had just brought them into our garden."

Back then, we were still interested in feeding them. But when Draco grew a little older, he started eating the leaves of the bushes in the front yard on his own, along with the peacocks.

Praris's peripheral vision caught an object, and her gaze immediately shifted to it. On the bookshelf stood a statue of the Egyptian god Anubis. Around the statue's neck was a handkerchief that looked very familiar to her.

In her first year at Hogwarts, Pralis didn't have enough money to buy Christmas presents for her classmates.

Having no other choice, Praris randomly gave away the sewing assignments she had done at the monastery. Most of the people she had spoken to received a copy. Milison, who was closest to her, received a unique, magically modified version.

Even with Pralis's excellent memory, she couldn't recall giving Draco one back. Back then, their relationship was incredibly strained!

"Is this mine?" Praris asked.

Draco said, "It's mine."

“Stop it!” Praris said thoughtfully. “Given our relationship, I certainly didn’t give you a gift.”

"No," Draco said frankly.

Praris asked, "So, where did it come from?"

Draco, a first-year student, cast a wide net and distributed the gifts, then checked them one by one, only to find that one was missing—it was that wretched Praris Prince!

Draco was throwing a tantrum when he ran into Marcus, who was out throwing away gift wrappings.

Marcus said to Miles, "Honestly, it's nice to have a gift, especially a handmade one! But what kind of handkerchief do I, a grown man, need?"

Miles yawned and said, "This is also a gift from that—that younger girl. Keep it! It'll come in handy someday."

“It’s Praris,” Marcus said.

Draco suddenly spoke up: "Marcus, I happen to need a handkerchief, give it to me!"

"Isn't that inappropriate?" Miles frowned. "Who would give away a gift that someone else gave them?"

Marcus was really oblivious. He chuckled and said, "It's fine. Giving things to the right people—I mean, people who can use them—is always better than giving them to me. Besides, Praris and Draco are quite close. Draco even took me to see her!"

Miles didn't think so, but since the two were mutually consenting, he couldn't say anything.

When Draco, a first-grader, received the handkerchief, he secretly thought to himself: "Heh heh heh, you made it yourself, huh? I'm going to use it as a rag!"

That's what he thought, but in Draco's life, there was never a need to use a rag, so he just tossed it aside.

When he finally fell in love, Draco was so glad he didn't need a rag, so he used it as a scarf and tied it around Anubis's wolf neck.

Anubis has the meaning of "death" and "rebirth," which overlaps with Draco's alchemical concepts.

Draco placed these two items, which represented his favorite things, together as a subtle way of expressing his feelings.

He didn't say any of these things.

“None of your business,” Draco said stubbornly, head held high. “Anyway, it’s mine now, and I’m yours now.”

Chapter 289 Soul-Condensing Agent

Praris chuckled: "I never would have guessed... Draco, you can actually say sweet nothings."

"Even?" Draco immediately perked up his ears. "Could it be that what you said before wasn't true?"

Praris wouldn't explain what she meant; she simply narrowed her eyes and retorted to Draco, "So, this is how you usually think of me?"

“Of course not,” Draco quickly explained. “What I mean is…”

“That’s good.” Praris said with a smile. “Very good—Mr. Draco, are you no longer going to be my tour guide?”

Draco, at his wits' end, had no choice but to take Praris on a tour of his room. He even pulled out his photo album, recounting each picture as if it were his own, showing him how old he was, who he went with, where he went, and what new things he learned.

"This was my first time experiencing Quidditch—the Quidditch World Cup in 1986, when I was only 6 years old," Draco said proudly, chin held high. "At the tournament camp, my dad bought me lots of souvenirs. When we got back, he even bought me my first toy broom."

As he spoke, Draco's voice grew softer and softer. He silently turned to the next page of the photo album and began talking about his parents taking him on vacation to Spain: "Have you ever been to Spain? It's not like England; sunshine there is as cheap as the Daily Prophet, you can get as much as you want..."

Prareas understood perfectly well why Draco was unhappy. He loved Quidditch, but that all came to an end after Voldemort forced him into a mission. He had to give up his hard-won captaincy and pay Harper, whom he didn't like, to replace him as Seeker, until he finally quit altogether.

Draco boasted about Quidditch in his first year and later frequently clashed with Harry over it. It seemed he didn't truly like Quidditch. But in reality, he didn't just use it as a tool for showing off.

If he didn't truly love the game, Draco wouldn't force himself to train diligently and even risk his life to win in crucial moments.

“Spain…no.” Praris pretended not to have caught the implication in his words at all. “What’s the fun in traveling if no one’s with me? Draco, I’m waiting for you to take me to the places you’ve been!”

Draco replied without hesitation, "Since I've already been there, what's the point of going again? Let me take you to some more exciting places."

“That’s different,” Prarese said.

Draco, recalling Prareus's comment about having no family, said dumbfoundedly, "What's the difference? I bet you've never been anywhere, so everything is just as exciting."

Prarese wanted to slap him—what nonsense! She glared at Draco and said softly, "Who said I haven't been anywhere? I've been to Canada."

That happened before she was five years old, and it was the only time Deepell brought his wife and daughter to work. It's one of Praris's most vivid and happiest memories from before she was five. She never mentions it, not even to this day.

This surprised Draco somewhat. But this surprise also made him realize he had said something he shouldn't have—had he gone mad? Praris wasn't born without family!

“Uh… I mean, I mean…” Draco stammered, “How about Canada?”

Draco had clearly been to Canada, yet in his haste, he asked such a silly question.

Praris regained her composure: "It's been too long, I've long forgotten. I'll wait for you to take me there again."

Draco readily agreed and immediately vowed to take Praris to Canada again.

“And the countries you’ve been to,” Praris said softly. “I want to see the landscapes you’ve visited, and get to know the you before you met me.”

Draco was stunned. He had initially thought, what's the point of going back to places we've already been? It's not worth it at all! But Praris said... He stretched out his arms and hugged Praris, saying emotionally, "I'll go anywhere you want."

This is incredible! Perhaps because this is the place Draco knows best and feels safest in, he's being unusually direct today. But no matter what, Praris likes him.

"Go to hell too?" Praris asked maliciously.

Draco blurted out, "As long as you're here too."

Praris chuckled and said, "Come on, I'm not going to hell with you!"

"Then where are you going?" Draco asked.

Prarese said, "Let's live together in this world."

Whether you're a fool or a genius, when it comes to love, it's all just endless rambling. Even though you're clearly in love, even though you can clearly see the other person's love, you still insist on hearing a word of affirmation, as if language isn't clay to be molded, but rather something unchangeable and set in stone.

Praliss couldn't stay in Draco's room for too long. After lingering for a while, she went back downstairs to continue diligently conducting her experiments.

On the last day of Easter, Voldemort finally arrived. Fueled by Prairie's urging, he immediately decided to remove Mrs. Burstdle from her ranks of "assistants" and punished her for not carrying out Voldemort's orders accurately.

This was clearly not Voldemort's true feeling.

Voldemort was suppressing his anger. Mrs. Burstdle was just unlucky; she walked right into the line of fire, which is why she was personally punished by Voldemort for such a small matter.

Things weren't going well outside, and leaks were everywhere. Through precise control, Voldemort naturally concealed Prasris, this weapon, and kept those in the know within a very small circle—Snape, Bellatrix, Rollo, Pettigrew, Burstyn, and the Malfoys.

Now look what's happened! Dolly Burst has stirred up trouble for no reason and really angered Prader. She's successfully attracted a whole bunch of colleagues, introducing Prader to everyone!

You idiot! You're an absolute idiot!

Prarese was delighted by Mrs. Burst's punishment, gladly watched the whole process, and added a touch of cruelty to his own persona.

After the punishment was over and Mrs. Burst was carried away, Praris spoke seriously, "Master, my potion is taking shape... Should we let Professor Snape take a look first?"

Voldemort's gaze fell inquisitively on Praris, wondering why she would ask such a question.

She had shown Snape all the potions before, so why was she suddenly asking this question now...? Did she discover the real reason why she needed potions, and that's why she felt she shouldn't have shown them to Snape?

Voldemort was filled with suspicion and asked cautiously, "You didn't show it to Snape?"

“No,” Prarese replied calmly. “Professor Snape didn’t come back for Easter.”

Where did Snape go...? He usually had to look after Hogwarts and didn't have many opportunities to go on missions. Now that he was on vacation, why not take advantage of him? Voldemort just pulled Snape out of his clutches and squeezed every last drop of value out of him.

Ah, and things become clear. It turns out that the reason Prareus didn't let Snape see it first was because Snape simply didn't have time to see it—even Voldemort found it absurd.

“No, no need.” Voldemort rallied, his words now laced with seductive power. “Plares, this is your greatest achievement to date. It is a work destined for immortality, one that will truly change all wizards’ understanding of the soul. But you accomplished this entire process yourself; what does it have to do with Severus?”

Praris froze, her mouth slightly agape, her right hand unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt. She hesitated, saying, "Master, but...but I'm still a student. Mr. Snape is the Potions professor; he can help me determine my potions..."

Voldemort abruptly interrupted Praris: "Yes, you are a student. But at the same time, Praris, you already possess the skills a Potions Master should have. Yet your mindset remains that of a student, which does nothing to help your progress!"

“I value Severus, but I value you just as much—Plares,” Voldemort said meaningfully. “You can’t stay by Severus’s side like a child forever, judging yourself by his standards… You must have the ability to make your own independent judgments.”

As a genius, Prarese quickly understood Voldemort's meaning... "So, Master is teaching me how to break away from Professor Snape and have my own career."

In fact, all of this was a lie, a smokescreen Voldemort used to conceal his true purpose.

“I understand, Master!” Praris asked earnestly, “But I’m not sure how I can know if my experimental subjects are safe without Professor Snape’s oversight.”

Voldemort's red eyes shifted towards the door: "Peter is incredibly enthusiastic about this!"

Praris thought to herself. It seemed that the first stage of her potion had taken effect; Voldemort didn't appear as crazed as before.

Logically speaking, Voldemort, such a mad and ruthless guy, should have become an even more ruthless and madman after drinking the potion.

But Voldemort's situation was different from others. After drinking the potion, he fought poison with poison and didn't seem as scary as before.

This is what Prarese is currently observing. But she won't be foolish enough to believe Voldemort's sweet talk and will simply maintain the same high level of vigilance as before.

At Voldemort's request, Prairie summoned Peter Pettigrew to test the drug. Pettigrew's state was complex; he felt both fear and a hidden, secret desire.

The moment he received the potion, desire immediately overwhelmed fear, and Pettigrew instantly raised it and drank it down without hesitation—"Ugh!"

The instant Pettigrew drank it, a sudden change occurred; he abruptly covered his mouth, feigning vomit. Seeing this, Voldemort's gaze sharpened instantly, becoming as keen as a newly sharpened sword.

Seeing this, Praris remained calm and explained to Voldemort, "Master, some of the ingredients here don't taste very good."