HP North Star's Radiance

Ignoring Hagrid's insults, Praris took out a piece of parchment from her pocket after receiving his tacit approval: "This is a fragment of Potter's robe, which I obtained when I fought them in the castle."

It's fake; she got it when she handed over the Phoenix Tears.

As she finished speaking, a golden magical butterfly flew from the tip of her wand. The butterfly landed on a fragment of Harry's clothes and gently fluttered its wings.

She had once used this magic to save lives, searching for Dumbledore who teetered on the brink of death. Now, however, she used it to kill, searching for Harry who refused to die.

Praris had anticipated the infamy she would face, but now that she had truly reached this point, all she had left was an almost numb resolve and determination.

It was necessary, even at the cost of abandoning her morality and soul, so that Winnie, Ms. Priscilla, Professor Snape, Draco, Pansy… and many more who loved her and whom she loved, and so that the sacrifices and suffering of some would not be in vain.

A golden butterfly fluttered its wings and flew into the jungle, leaving behind a faint but bright light. Just as it was about to disappear into the darkness, a pair of hands parted the low bushes, and a figure walked resolutely step by step out of the forest.

"No need to look anymore," the figure said in a loud and clear voice. "I'll come myself."

It's Harry! He delivered himself to our doorstep!

Prarese's hand holding the wand trembled slightly, and the golden butterflies circling Harry instantly dissipated, turning into specks of golden light, just like all the mental preparation she had done for the crime of "driving the Savior to his death."

Seeing Harry appear, Prader couldn't tell if she felt relieved or her heart pounding again. Fortunately, she didn't have to push Harry to his death herself. Sadly, she would still have to witness Harry's death.

"No, no, Harry—" Hagrid screamed desperately, "No! Run!"

Harry saw the golden butterfly and understood the magic's effect, but he didn't look at Praris; instead, he looked only at his nemesis, Voldemort.

Praris turned his head away and closed his eyes.

She felt her face twitching, but she forced her eyes to stay dry.

Many times, Prarese either mocked or ridiculed Gryffindor's...recklessness, which she called recklessness. She believed that acting without thinking, driven only by passion, would only lead to a mess.

In that night, in just a few hours, Prarese witnessed the sacrifice of three Gryffindors, which completely changed her perspective.

She's willing to call it courage.

Dumbledore always said that truly great wizards possess the best qualities of multiple houses. Therefore, truly great Gryffindors must possess the loyalty of Hufflepuff, the wisdom of Ravenclaw, and the unwavering will and determination of Slytherin.

boom!

Praris heard the sound of the savior star falling.

Even though she knew this might not be the end, her heart still skipped a beat.

boom!

Another sound, and she opened her eyes abruptly, seeing Voldemort fall down as well.

"Master!" Bella rushed over in a panic.

Prarese's mind raced; it seemed this was the moment Dumbledore had been talking about.

"He made a fatal mistake." A shrewd glint flashed in Dumbledore's bright blue eyes. "He cared too much about Harry, so he used Harry's blood to forge his body, which allows Lily's magic to coexist in both his and Harry's bodies. That way, as long as he doesn't die, Harry won't die either."

"Are you sure?" Praris fell into thought. "But Harry doesn't know that."

"I'm not sure, but my guesses are usually proven correct," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.

Prareas said cautiously, "That means Harry could still die."

"No one can guarantee that," Dumbledore said.

Praris frowned: "You're not sure about anything."

"Fortune is always unpredictable," Dumbledore said. "We are merely searching among infinite possibilities for the one that leads to victory."

"Besides," Dumbledore winked playfully with his left eye, "there you are, Praris."

"I truly hate you!" Praris said expressionlessly. "In short, I will do my best to weaken the mysterious man's soul to an extreme degree."

"After Harry destroys the Horcrux, he will probably drink the Soul-Repairing Potion again, because it can indeed repair the soul—I would have tricked him into drinking it if he didn't want to. When he kills Harry, destroying the Soul Shard is equivalent to impacting his own soul, making it even weaker."

"Thank you for your help," Dumbledore said with a smile. "You've reduced much of the uncertainty in our plans."

"But what if this impact... completely destroys his soul?" Praris looked up in astonishment. "Then Harry might never wake up again?"

"It is possible," Dumbledore said calmly yet cruelly. "It is possible that Harry dies with him. It is also possible that he wakes up, and Harry wakes up too. There is another possibility that he wakes up, but Harry does not."

"He woke up but Harry didn't—" Praris asked sharply, "but you said that as long as he didn't die, Harry wouldn't die either."

Dumbledore said, "You understand, some people yearn for another world."

Prareas understood, of course, that "someone" was Dumbledore himself, who had once devised a grand plan to murder him, which Prareas cruelly thwarted.

"I don't like what you're saying," Praris said bluntly.

Praris will never understand this mentality.

She's the kind of person who, even with broken arms and legs, would still use her mouth to carry materials and use wandless magic to brew life-giving bone spirits for herself.

Dumbledore smiled slightly at Praris's denial, seemingly unconcerned.

"If, and I mean if, Harry and Vader die together, then I don't need to do anything more." Praris calculated his usefulness one by one. "If Vader and Harry don't die, then it'll be like the prophecy, letting Harry kill him. If Harry... longs for another world."

"Then I'll trouble you, Praris." Dumbledore nodded politely to Praris, "For the sake of more lives."

That sounds nice, like "more lives"!

Dumbledore knew perfectly well that she didn't care that much about the lives of others. His meaning was clear: Prarese, for the sake of those you care about!

Now, all she has to do is wait, wait for Voldemort and Harry to wake up... or not.

For her, the first two options were undoubtedly the best; she wouldn't have to personally kill Voldemort under the noses of so many Death Eaters. But if Harry didn't wake up, she would have to take that risk.

But for Harry, only the second possibility is the best outcome; he must pull through and kill Voldemort.

Prarese hoped to see the second option, as she genuinely admired Harry Potter's character.

In the crowd, Praris, like the other Death Eaters, charged toward Voldemort. Bella shouted, "Praris Prince! Come quickly and see what's wrong with your master!"

It's amazing that Bella still remembers who the half-doctor is!

Praris squeezed through the crowd.

Logically, in a normal coma, people should be spread out a bit so that the comatose patient does not suffocate due to lack of air circulation.

But Prass didn't really hope Voldemort would get better. Instead of making the crowd disperse, she joined in herself, maliciously cursing Voldemort in her heart that he might suffocate—she knew it was unlikely, but that didn't stop her from thinking it.

Praris raised his wand, startled by Bella's scream. Bella pointed her wand at Praris and yelled, "What are you doing!"

"Detection magic! For examining the body!" Praris roared back urgently, "Bellacrites, I need to find out about my master's physical condition!"

Prareus looked at Voldemort, the tip of his wand emitting tiny points of light.

She thought to herself, this is a perfect opportunity to kill Voldemort. After killing Voldemort, she could Apparate away before anyone could react. But Prader hesitated for a moment. If she killed Voldemort now, Harry would have no chance of coming back to life.

"Being soft-hearted is the most undesirable flaw."

Snape's words flashed through her mind.

If Harry didn't wake up, she would have missed the best opportunity to kill Voldemort.

"Owner……"

Bella's dazed voice pulled Praris from her hesitation. She gripped her wand tightly, aimed it at Voldemort's heart, and silently chanted: "Godsword without end—"

"No problem," Voldemort's voice rang out.

Praris quickly composed himself and said in a low voice, "Yes, there's nothing wrong. Master isn't injured, it's just that his spirit... well, it can be treated later."

She was being too tactful; Voldemort's soul was like a torn plastic bag, leaking air from all sides!

Praris felt as if he had been slapped hard by his past self. Being soft-hearted is truly the most unacceptable flaw!

"It's alright, it's alright," Pralis reassured herself. Even if Harry didn't wake up, Voldemort would still need her to mend his soul. Voldemort no longer had any Horcruxes or scattered soul fragments, so she would have a chance to ambush him and kill him in one fell swoop.

Slytherin always has the next plan to lead to victory.

Bella reached out to help Voldemort up, but Voldemort shook her off, coldly saying, "I don't need help!"

"Is that boy... dead?" Voldemort asked.

The Death Eaters looked at each other, unsure whether they hadn't bothered to check Harry's life or death, or whether they were too afraid to check.

“Master, let me serve you,” Praris said.

Prader was just as eager as Voldemort to ascertain Harry's fate, though their desires differed. She hoped Harry wouldn't let her precious compassion go to waste.

“No.” Voldemort refused Praris, pointing in a direction. “You—go and check! Tell me if he’s dead!”

Looking at Narcissa's pale face, Prairie instantly understood: Voldemort was afraid.

He feared the power of Lily as a mother, so he hoped to have another mother do it, believing that Narcissa would not be affected.

Prarese's heart immediately jumped. She knew how much the Malfoys would do for their families, and now that Lucius was here, she was terrified that Harry would survive only to be exposed by Narcissa.

Narcissa glanced at Voldemort, then at Praris, and as if making up her mind, stumbled toward Harry's "corpse."

Beside Voldemort, Prader gripped her wand tightly, determined to attack him the moment Narcissa revealed Harry was alive, no matter the danger. She had rehearsed it a thousand times in her mind, ready to ambush and escape at any moment without hesitation.

Chapter 305 Final Battle 1

Praris stared intently at Narcissa, who was leaning over to look at Harry beneath her.

It was still night, and Praris's vision was not good enough for her to observe Harry's subtle physical characteristics from such a distance; she could only stare intently at Narcissa.

A moment later, Narcissa straightened up, turned around, and shouted, "He's dead!"

As soon as she finished speaking, there was a deathly silence. Soon, most of the Death Eaters reacted and cheered in celebration. Hagrid, tied to the tree, roared like a madman, wailing like a wild beast that had lost its cub. Only Praris stood silently, staring at Narcissa's pale face—she was lying.

Praris loosened her grip on her wand. This was good news; in such a dangerous situation, she would rather do nothing.

Voldemort laughed heartily, shouting in a high-pitched voice, "See that! Dumbledore is dead, Harry Potter is dead, they've both been defeated by me, no one can threaten me anymore! Hahaha, Cruciatus!"

Pralis tightened her grip on her wand, shifting her position to the optimal angle for attacking Voldemort, so that Harry wouldn't be unable to conceal the fact that he was still alive.

This time, she finally saw Harry's subtle bodily movements and confirmed that he was still alive. His body was tossed up and down in the darkness, like bungee jumping. Yet Harry didn't utter a sound or move an inch; such extraordinary willpower would even surprise Praris.

Voldemort, not content with that, untied Hagrid and ordered the bewildered creature to carry Harry's body to the castle to display it to everyone.

Praris followed the Death Eaters silently, his eyes following Hagrid who was holding Harry out of the corner of his eye. His hand was tightly gripping his wand, ready to react at any moment.

Within the ranks, the Death Eaters mocked and ridiculed the Hogwarts students and teachers for their stubborn resistance, boasting of Voldemort's power. Hagrid sobbed softly, while the giant behind him swaggered through the forest, snapping branches with a crackling sound as the crowd parted the bushes...

In this noisy environment, perhaps because Harry was not dead, her inner burden was lightened a little, or perhaps because she was doing relatively simple and mechanical work, or perhaps there was no reason at all.

For a moment, Praris's tense mind relaxed, and an inopportune thought popped into her head: "I wonder how Draco is doing?"