HP North Star's Radiance

Therefore, Praris spent the entire morning processing the dark magic knowledge she had "eaten" to avoid indigestion.

She also had to take a break every half hour and keep her promise to Professor Snape—although she didn’t go to the forbidden section, she knew that the only difference between doing so and going to the forbidden section was the location.

By the time she came to her senses, the whole school already knew about the attack on Crevy.

"Who is Crevy?" Millison asked, voicing most of the Slytherins' questions.

Praris took a sip of his black tea and casually replied, "Potter's admirer, the one with the camera, the boy with the autographed photo."

The Slytherins around her immediately realized what was going on; it seemed they remembered Malfoy's teasing of Potter.

This incident had a significant impact. The non-pure-bloods of the other three houses were very worried, fearing they would be the next targets. Only the Slytherins could still act arrogantly in this situation, threatening to have their heirs clean house.

Prarese wouldn't participate in such a boring activity, but Crevy's incident shows that the notebook's influence on Ginny Weasley is increasing.

She couldn't tell whether she was worried about whether the little girl's willpower could hold up, or whether she was worried about becoming the next target.

A few days later, Prarese took the opportunity of delivering medicine to Professor Snape to see what Crevy looked like.

Through the curtain, she saw Colin Crevey lying stiffly, his camera still hanging around his neck, his entire body in the position it was when he was murdered, his eyes filled with terror.

“This looks a bit like a petrification spell,” Praris muttered to himself.

Ms. Pomfrey shook her head: "If only it were a petrification spell."

"Please thank Professor Snape for me," said Mrs. Pomfrey, who looked somewhat haggard. "Don't look anymore. So many people have come to see him. Poor child, he certainly doesn't want to be stared at like this."

Ms. Pomfrey reached out and closed the curtain.

Praris lowered his head: "I'm sorry, I didn't expect that. I hope he gets better."

“That’s what we all think,” Mrs. Pomfrey said.

Krivy's image kept replaying in Praris's mind, and she couldn't help but think of the Greek mythological creature she had read about as a child—the Gorgon "Medusa" with snakes for hair.

Muggles have the story of King Arthur and Merlin, and wizards have the legend of the great wizard Merlin. Is it possible that in the wizarding world there exists a creature similar to Medusa, capable of petrifying anyone who sees it?

As Prasris emerged, she ran into two Gryffindors who pointed at her from a distance and whispered, "It's Slytherin. What's she doing here? She's definitely up to no good..."

This is why she hesitated to interfere with Ginny Weasley.

Who could she tell? Gryffindor?

Prareas could almost picture Ron Weasley's suspicious and wary expression; he was sure Prareas had ill intentions towards his little sister, and might even suspect that she was the one who made the notebook.

Isn't it suspicious that a Slytherin suddenly cares about his sister?

Where are the teachers?

Professor Snape's attitude towards her remained consistent from the first year: if you're not capable, mind your own business; spend your time reading and don't cause trouble.

Praris bit her lip anxiously, unsure of what to do.

“What’s wrong, Pry?” Millison said. “Are you staying for Christmas? I think Professor Snape has finished compiling the list of those staying at school.”

"I'll stay... Ah! Helmets... Protect them all!"

For some unknown reason, Gore's crucible suddenly exploded, splattering swelling potion everywhere.

Praris's first reaction was "Protect the Armor," but that would reflect the potion back. She had no choice but to quickly change the spell to "Protect All."

The full protective effect takes time to activate, and even with her extraordinary efforts, she could only protect a few girls around her. Nevertheless, Daphne's hand swelled up, while only Millison and Pancien on either side of her remained unharmed.

What about the boys in Slytherin? None of them escaped.

Malfoy, who was near Goyle, even had his head swollen like a pig's.

Praris quickly pushed through the crowd surrounding the professor, who was asking for anti-swelling medicine, and went to his side to distribute the medicine together.

Well, why should she care about Ginny Weasley? She doesn't have time to stop and think about anything right now!

She could already foresee her Christmas holiday, which would undoubtedly involve spending day and night in the office helping the professor prepare anti-swelling medicine to replenish the reserves used up this time.

Finally, each victim drank the antidote, and Praris took the bottles and tubes of medicine that her classmates had returned one by one.

Professor Snape bypassed her, swept over to Goyle's cauldron like the wind, and scooped out the remaining firework fragments from the pot.

His face was as black as ink, and the classroom seemed to be muted.

It's obvious that someone played a prank on the King of Hell, and she, this little devil, was caught in the crossfire.

The bell rang, and Praris shook her head at Milison, indicating that she couldn't walk with her.

Prareus used a spell to carry a large box of reagent bottles and followed behind Professor Snape.

Upon entering the office, she consciously began searching for sage and wormwood, while Professor Snape sat in his chair with his eyes closed. Prarese, who had been with the professor for over a year, knew that he was suppressing his inner rage.

“Professor,” Praris couldn’t help but speak up in the silence, “something seems off.”

Snape suddenly opened his eyes, his sharp gaze piercing her like a knife.

Prarese knew that she had better have something to say at this point, otherwise no one would want to know what it was like for the professor to be angry.

Praris pointed to the side, to the professor's private storage room: "When you lock the door, the lock faces right."

Professor Snape always carried something in his right hand when entering or leaving the storeroom, so he habitually used his left hand to lock the door.

When locking a padlock with your left hand, the lock opening is usually on the right side. Otherwise, the lock opening will be blocked by your palm, making it inconvenient to see and increasing the risk of getting your hand caught.

Because the lock is a bit rusty, if someone like Praris doesn't have enough strength to lock the door, she'll put down what she's holding and lock it with both hands. In this case, she uses her right hand to apply force, while her left hand is only used for assistance, with the lock facing left.

Chapter 33 Snake-like Voice

Praris hasn't been in the storage room at all recently, so the lock cylinder can't possibly be facing left.

Professor Snape's eyes darkened, and after a moment, he stood up and strode toward the storeroom.

Prarese consciously followed behind the professor, but she knew she wouldn't find anything in the materials. The last person to use the storage room was the professor himself; only he knew what the thief had touched.

But who says that these are the only materials that can be observed in the storage room?

Prarese always got the answer she wanted: Professor Snape's gaze lingered for a few more seconds on the horn of the two-horned beast and the skin of the African tree snake.

The professor's face remained expressionless, though his lips trembled slightly.

“I imagine you still have many pots of anti-swelling medicine to brew, don’t you, Miss Praris?”

Praris looked up at him in surprise.

Choosing not to pursue the matter further after someone has invaded his territory is not Professor Snape's style. He has always been ruthless in dealing with violations of school rules, except by Slytherins, and he has just been provoked today.

The professor sometimes has too much patience. For example, he could tolerate the onion-headed guy last year, and this year he tolerated Lockhart, the golden peacock who was displaying his feathers everywhere.

But in reality, the professor has a terrible temper. If you also work year-round without a break and have to deal with students who are always causing trouble, heavy workload, and a new colleague who only adds to the chaos every year, then you will only have a worse temper than him.

But now, he chooses to ignore it and urges Praris to get to work.

"That's enough for now," Professor Snape said. "If you have plenty of time, I don't mind giving you more homework so you don't waste your energy trying to figure out my ideas."

"As you wish, Professor."

Since the professor had said so, Praris turned and walked out of the storage room, returning to her crucible.

Look, she's discovered something interesting again: beneath the professor's calm surface lies a hint of unconcealed disgust and complex emotions that are hard to explain.

The investigation was interrupted by crucible after crucible of anti-swelling medicine.

Perhaps because of her offense that day, or perhaps to dispel her curiosity, the professor actually gave her a list of books on black magic and defense—books that could be found in the non-restricted section of the library—and asked her to finish reading them before Christmas.

The professor seemed to have completely mastered how to control an overly energetic child.

Without a doubt, that meant assigning her task after task, leaving her no time to think about Ginny Weasley.

Praris wished he could split himself in two, one half to finish his homework and the other half to brew the potion.

Slytherin common room.

"You want to join the Duel Club?" Pansy asked, puzzled. "Mirison, the heir won't choose you. After all, you're a pureblood, aren't you?"

Praris hurried in, grabbed a small bread roll from the table, and stuffed it into his mouth: "What club? It sounds familiar."

“Oh honey, haven’t you eaten again? You’re walking as fast as the professor,” Millison said with a laugh. “There’s a sign at the entrance of the hall saying they’re opening a dueling club, and I’m thinking of going to join the fun.”

Praris poured himself a cup of black tea and gulped it down like a cow chewing on a peony: "I remember now, the professor should be there."

“So Professor Snape is teaching us dueling? Does he even have time?” Pansy said. “Draco is going too.”

Praris shook his head: "I'm busy. You'll see when you get there."

At 8 p.m., the dining tables in the auditorium were gone, replaced by a huge stage, with a huge crowd gathered below.

"Is this what you meant by 'we'll find out tonight'?"

Milison's lips twitched twice as he looked up at Lockhart, who was acting recklessly.

He actually dared to make Professor Snape his assistant. Snape was a Death Eater more than ten years ago, and he might have even fought Aurors in real combat.

Judging from the professor's expression, they knew he was definitely going to teach Lockhart a lesson. If Lockhart retained even a shred of dignity, it would be a testament to Professor Snape's mercy towards his colleague.

Sure enough, Snape cast a disarming spell, which not only sent the opponent's wand flying, but also sent the man flying.

Lockhart picked up his shattered pride and stubbornly insisted that he hadn't retaliated because it was for the sake of his students' learning.

Prarese swore she saw murderous intent in the professor's eyes.

“Those Gryffindors probably didn’t tell him,” Millison said, clutching his stomach, which was sore from laughing. “If you see that look in the professor’s eyes, you’d better run away as fast as you can.”

Praris couldn't help but chuckle: "He probably thinks the professor only knows how to brew potions. Don't underestimate an office worker!"

“As for you, Miss Granger—I think you’re not afraid to face off against Praris.”

what?

Pansy quickly gave her a push: "Hurry up and follow Draco, the professor wants you to be paired with Granger."

Prarese hurriedly followed Malfoy.

This was a treatment Prairie, who rarely answered questions in class, never provoked Gryffindor, and whose life revolved around the library, office, and Slytherin common room, had never experienced before: being stared at by 90 percent of the students in the entire school.

"Don't you dare embarrass Slytherin," Malfoy whispered.

Praris retorted in a breathy voice, "Mind your own business first!"

Lockhart made several students face their opponents and bow.

"one two Three--"