HP North Star's Radiance

"Your mother?" Voldemort was almost unfamiliar with the word "mother."

“Sylvia,” Praris said, “she is my mother.”

When Prarese said "kill my mother," Winnie in the crowd went limp and collapsed onto Purnell.

Sirius and Lupin, who were standing to the side, quickly helped Winnie up. Then, when they heard Sylvia's name, they stared at her blankly, realizing that another of their good friends from back then was gone.

Praris didn't stop; she spoke to drive Voldemort mad: "You think you're appreciating my talent and giving me a chance to climb the ladder? Give me a break! I saw through you long ago; it was all a lie! The Soul-Binding Potion binds you to your fragments, and when they're destroyed, it will backfire on you!"

"The strength you were so proud of was defeated by courage and sacrifice."

Your pride in your wisdom was defeated by love and unwavering will.

Tom Riddle, what's left of you besides your self-proclaimed title and the fear beneath your delusional ambitions—you pathetic, worthless wretch!

After holding back his words for more than half a year, Praris finally felt relieved and could finally say them.

Voldemort was driven mad by her, but Harry stopped him. This kind boy even tried to make Voldemort repent, which reminded Prarese of what Dumbledore had said: Harry had once sympathized with Voldemort.

"Fool," Praris thought.

She stood in the crowd, watching Voldemort die as easily as a mortal.

Who is more of a fool than whom? Praris wondered.

Amidst the deafening cheers and jubilation of the crowd, Praris walked step by step toward Voldemort's corpse and extended his left hand.

Let everyone else have fun!

At this moment, Praris still remembered her mission: to confirm that Voldemort was dead, or else deliver the final blow.

Golden specks of light landed on Voldemort, passed through his body, and dissipated into the air. Praris withdrew his hand, confirming that Voldemort was truly dead and there was no possibility of revival.

Praris sensed something, turned around, and saw Harry being pulled along by the crowd, gesturing towards her with his chin through the gaps, as if asking, "Are you sure?"

She nodded with a peaceful smile.

“Plares! You brat!” Winnie lunged forward, fell to her knees, and hugged her legs, sobbing, “How could you... how could you do something so dangerous!”

Ms. Priscilla smiled and touched Praris's face with her forehead: "Darling, you're amazing, even more amazing than I imagined!"

Then came Astoria, Grace, Millison… and Mrs. Pomfrey, Meryl and Evan, Professor Snape, and others who came down from the Astronomy Tower.

Snape pulled up his sleeve, revealing the scars on his arm, and gave a strange smile that was neither a sneer nor a definite one: "It's gone—more completely than it was seventeen years ago."

Voldemort, now confirmed dead, was moved to another classroom. Professor McGonagall restored the desks and chairs, but everyone huddled together with whoever they wanted to be with.

She walked up to Snape and said somewhat awkwardly, "I'm sorry for those criticisms you received."

Snape nodded stiffly and coldly: "Minerva, it doesn't matter."

“This is important, Severus,” Professor McGonagall said earnestly, “for your reputation, and for the sake of my conscience.”

No one could stop Praris when she wanted to do something. She easily shook off the people who were holding her in celebration, let the tracking butterfly land on her bracelet, and walked briskly against the flow of people. Finally, the butterfly landed on a pale hand.

Draco was being held by his parents; the three of them looked somewhat bewildered, but remained tightly embracing each other.

He saw the golden butterfly land on his hand and slowly raised his head.

"Are you injured?" Praris asked.

“No,” Draco said softly. “I’m extremely lucky.”

“That’s to be expected,” Prarese said. “You’ve always been very lucky.”

Prarese didn't stay, leaving the space to Draco and his family. She walked from the foyer outwards, around the large lawn, past the greenhouse, and towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Platinum!" Harry shouted behind her, "Where are you going?"

“A quiet place,” Praris said calmly. “Don’t you think the castle is too noisy? I don’t like noisy places.”

Praris turned around and saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

“We want to go find Dumbledore,” Harry said softly. “I think you feel the same way—you can find him.”

“You guessed right,” Praris said.

Ron scratched his head and said, "Praris, you seem... you seem different from everyone else."

Prareas said, "People are inherently different."

“He means!” Hermione understood Ron’s meaning. “You’re not as happy as the others. Praris, you must have suffered a lot under Voldemort’s command, right? We all think so.”

Prarese was not used to being cared for like this, saying, "It's not even a tenth or a twelfth of what Professor Snape cared for."

Hermione said seriously, "Pain cannot be compared, can it?"

Prarese gave Hermione a long look, then turned and continued walking. She said, "I just feel a little lonely."

“Lonely?” Hermione repeated her words.

Praris gazed at the Forbidden Forest in the distance: "I have studied Voldemort, his soul, and his ideals in great detail. In the process, I discovered some interesting stories."

"In the ancient East, there was a renowned monarch who defeated many nations and established a vast, unified empire. No one was unafraid of his name. Yet, this monarch, like Voldemort, yearned for immortality."

“He definitely didn’t succeed,” Harry said firmly.

“That’s right,” Praris said softly. “This monarch ordered wizards from the East to find the elixir of immortality, hoping to extend his dynasty’s rule for thousands of years. However, he still died. Some say he died of illness. Others say he was murdered by his ministers, who used the stench of fish to mask the stench of his corpse, and he died hastily. His dynasty lasted only a little over a decade.”

"No matter how powerful one is in life, death will reduce all power and glory to the mundane. The more frantically one tries to transcend death, the faster one will be transcended by death. The only thing they leave behind that is a warning to future generations."

This is the harshest punishment for a tyrant who seeks immortality; what defeats him is not a powerful army or magic, but the most mundane fate that they have tried their entire lives to transcend.

“Then you—” Harry seemed to realize something.

Prareas looked at Harry and said calmly but firmly, "I will destroy the Soul-Gathering Potion, destroy all my research on the soul, and you will oversee me... Harry, no one has the right to try to control another person's soul, not even me."

The life of a powerful wizard is one of constant vigilance and walking on thin ice, living in constant fear of losing one's own power.

When Praris decided to enter the magical world, she was aware of this and longed to control her powers. Even as she pushed a powerful dark wizard to his death, she did not forget this, calmly controlling her powers.

Harry nodded emphatically. "Then please keep an eye on me. I will put the Elder Wand back where it belongs and will never touch the knowledge of Horcruxes again."

“I’m glad you have this idea,” Praris said with a smile, parting the forbidden forest. “Well then, I can tell you the news.”

“Dumbledore never died, but I don’t know if he will ever wake up. It’s because of you—Harry, you are the master of the Elder Wand, so Voldemort couldn’t unleash its true power, and therefore he couldn’t truly kill Dumbledore.”

Praris did not mention the role of the Soul-Gathering Agent in this matter, as she did not want to incite anyone to crave it, or even cause a new tragedy.

Hermione and Krum (side story)

In the ruins of Hogwarts, Hermione and the other wizards raised their wands and cast a restoration spell, restoring the collapsed buildings and broken glass to their original state as if time had been reversed.

Hermione was busy around the castle when some Gryffindors pointed to Raoul, who was bricked into the wall, and asked her, "Hermione, what should we do?"

"There's no need to be soft-hearted when dealing with these Death Eaters."

After saying that, Hermione blew up the wall without caring whether Rol was injured or not, then roughly tied him up and started repairing the wall.

Just as she was diligently repairing Hogwarts, a conversation drifted into Hermione's ears.

“I really didn’t expect you to come, Krum,” the young male voice said. “After all, Hogwarts has nothing to do with you, does it?”

Krum said in a low voice, "It's related."

He paused for a moment, then added, “I came to Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. It’s a beautiful place… War is cruel. It destroys all beautiful things.”

Hermione's hand trembled. Realizing she couldn't continue, she called Prarese's name and pointed in Krum's direction.

Prarese understood and told Hermione to go ahead.

Quidditch pitch.

The war didn't reach this area, so there's nothing to repair, and nobody would come to the stadium at this time.

Hermione and Krum were sitting in the audience.

Krum spread his legs, clasped his hands together, and rested his elbows on his knees. "It's been a long time since I've sat at this angle to watch the game," he said.

“You should be flying in the sky,” Hermione said. “Why are you in a place where you shouldn’t be?”

“There is no place I shouldn’t be.” Krum’s English had improved considerably. “Hermione, I’ve always known you’re an amazing witch. You defeated him (Voldemort), just as Dumbledore and wizards from all over the world defeated Grindelwald.”

“You already know,” Hermione said with certainty.

“I know Anna Lopez, and I listen to the ‘Porter’s Watch’ radio. I watched the whole game of the match where Locksberg went missing,” Krum nodded. “Hermione, with the Muggle registration policy, I worry about you too. I believe you’re doing something important, so I won’t look for you or disturb your mission. But I read the missing persons and obituaries in the newspapers every day and pray for you.”

Hermione, somewhat oblivious to the romantic sentiment, said, "You said you haven't sat at this angle to look at the stadium in a long time."

Krum lowered his head and scratched his hair: "I thought it had been a long time—I was worried during the days I didn't hear from you."

Hermione fell silent, unsure how to respond to Krum's feelings. She had assumed Krum was a big star with so many admirers. After the breakup, she thought he should have forgotten her long ago and been pursuing other beautiful girls. Why was he still so fixated on her… even coming to Hogwarts?

“Hermione, I understand your concerns.” Krum seemed to understand something. “You can trust me, you don’t need to lie to me. I’m not afraid of war. Have you forgotten? I am also a Triwizard Tournament warrior.”

Harry, Fleur, and Cedric are all here, so what can't Krum do?

“I know you can do it!” Hermione suddenly raised her voice, then lowered it again in frustration, repeating, “It’s precisely because I know you can do it—that I’m even more afraid of this happening. You’re a big star, the Quidditch team is overseas, they don’t train or play in England… You don’t need to take this risk for me!”

“You’re here.” Krum turned to Hermione and said, word by word, “That’s what’s necessary.”

“That’s exactly why!” Hermione said, somewhat agitated. “Viktor, you’re making irrational decisions because of your emotions. People in your family have already died in the war, how can I let you—let you—”

Krum suddenly realized, and he reached out to hug Hermione, but then stopped. "Is it okay? I think you need a hug... You look like you're about to break."

"Don't ask me!" Hermione glared at him angrily.

Krum then reached out and put his arm around Hermione.

“I understand, Hermione,” Krum said. “I might make what you see as an irrational decision because of you, but I’m not incapable of judgment, am I? I’ll assess whether I’m capable of doing this, whether I can survive, and I’ll make ample preparations. Even telling me that I don’t come to England and publicly support you like Ms. Lopez would be a form of help to you.”

"Your English is really good," Hermione said sarcastically. "Now you're not pretending you don't understand English anymore?"

“I’ve been listening to ‘Porter’s Watch’ for months,” Krum said somewhat innocently.

“At least let me do something, for you… for Hogwarts.” Krum said, then suddenly stood up and awkwardly spun around in front of Hermione. “Look, don’t worry, I participated in the battle to defend Hogwarts and am still alive and well, standing here in front of you. I’m not dead, and I won’t die, well… I’ll live for at least a few more decades.”

Hermione covered her face and burst into tears, and Krum quickly knelt down and hugged her.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid; she carried too heavy an emotional burden in her heart.

She wanted to protect her parents and didn't want to drag Krum down with her, but Krum had thrown himself at her, disregarding his promising future—what if something happened to Krum? Hermione didn't even want to think about it.

Krum showed Hermione through his actions that her worries were unnecessary. He could protect himself and fight alongside Hermione.

After Hogwarts was rebuilt, Hermione took the NEWT exam that year. Meanwhile, Krum agreed to attend an Australian Quidditch match as a special guest.