HP North Star's Radiance

“Your mother once said that sometimes you have to learn to play dumb,” Praris said calmly. “Daphne’s willingness to come is enough to support our wedding; why worry about so much else?”

Draco nodded in sudden understanding.

Their next opponent was Neville, who, along with his girlfriend Hannah, was dancing with such gusto that their round faces were flushed.

“Your wedding was wonderful!” Neville exclaimed excitedly. “If you hadn’t said that my parents weren’t suited to crowded places, I would definitely have come with them!”

Normally, Draco would have given Gryffindor a piece of his mind. But it was complicated. During the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had both helped him, but the Death Eaters didn't care about his life or death. He still didn't particularly like Gryffindor, but he didn't hate them anymore, especially since this was his own wedding.

Praris laughed and said, "Thank you for coming. You didn't tear down our house or start a fight!"

Neville laughed heartily, while Hannah covered her mouth and laughed shyly. The two then walked hand in hand into the crowd of dancers.

“I also have to thank you, Draco,” Praris said. “Thank you for not getting into a fight with them.”

Draco had to remind Praris, "This is our wedding!"

He had barely finished speaking when a familiar voice rang out:

“Praris! And…Draco.”

Praris turned around and saw that it was Miles Blaitch. He looked almost the same as he had a few years ago, except that he was more mature and rugged, and his once bright smile had become much less pronounced.

She noticed that Draco's grip on her hand tightened considerably, as if he was afraid she would run away.

“Miles?” Prarese said. “Marcus said you went to Italy.”

“That’s right, there are too many cloudy days in London, it’s not a happy place.” Miles raised his glass and gave a slight smile. “So, I went south.”

Draco said sarcastically, "Then why did you come back? Isn't the sun you're looking for here?"

"My old teammate and friend got married, didn't they? Congratulations!" He said, raising his glass to the couple and taking a sip of his drink. "Wishing you happiness today, tomorrow, and in the future."

After Miles finished speaking his blessing, he took a few steps back and disappeared into the crowd.

"This is utterly absurd!" Draco said through gritted teeth. "Who invited him?"

Prareas glanced at Draco and then said, "Lucius, what's wrong?"

Draco coughed, choked by the urge: "Why did my dad invite him! No, did you know he was coming?"

“I know,” Praris said calmly. “Lucius invited all your teammates from the Slytherin Quidditch team.”

"You don't care at all?" Draco asked sourly.

Prarese countered, "What do I need to care about—why should I care if my new husband is jealous here?"

"Jealousy?" Draco frantically tried to salvage his image. "Jealous of what? Jealous that he slunk off to Italy? Thank you, I'm the one who's standing by your side!"

……

Marcus said gruffly, "Miles, you shouldn't have come!"

"Why?" Miles sat in the rest area, holding a wine glass, legs crossed, tilting his head to look at his old captain.

Marcus said matter-of-factly, "It's Praris's wedding!"

“Didn’t I know?” Miles grinned. “That’s why I should be here.”

Marcus couldn't understand, and he said earnestly, "Why don't you explain it more clearly?"

“What I don’t understand even more is how you and Stella got together?” Miles asked in surprise.

Marcus's eyes widened: "I totally get it now, you're mocking me!"

“Alright, alright.” Miles lowered his head, his slightly long brown hair falling down to cover his bright yet melancholic brown eyes. “This is Praris’s wedding, isn’t it? I need to let Draco know that I really have long been an insignificant person in her eyes.”

Miles told himself countless times that the brief, fruitless relationship wasn't his sun, but merely a shooting star streaking across the sky. Yet that shooting star was so dazzling that he couldn't forget it, and could only look back again and again in the long river of his memory.

“Isn’t that how it should be?” Marcus said matter-of-factly. “Otherwise, how would Draco have gotten his turn!”

“Yes, you’re right.” Miles grinned again, but it didn’t look like a smile at all. “You can’t have everything in life. For example, London is nice, but there are too many cloudy days—I’m going back to Italy tomorrow.”

That was what Miles wanted Draco to know, and it was also what he wanted to know himself.

So Miles stood up, walked over to the girls who were resting, and invited one of them to dance.

On the other side, Draco had already been appeased by Praris. The two walked in the hall, surrounded by all sorts of blessings—enough for them to use for their next life.

Finally, Prarese and Draco were able to escape from the noisy crowd.

Draco said, "It's like a dream."

“That’s a wonderful dream,” Praris said.

“Maybe…maybe this really is a dream?” Draco asked. “I mean, there are many real dreams, aren’t there?”

“Then you must propose to me the moment you wake up,” Praris said with a smile. “That means you love me so much that you dream of being with me.”

Extra IF route: Sylvia's choice

Sylvia raised her wand and pointed it at Depple.

Depp stared at his wife in astonishment: "Hill, are you going to use magic on me?"

“I—” Sylvia choked up.

Sylvia felt her blood boiling with rage; she wanted nothing more than to unleash her most terrible magic on Depur and force the man to hand over his child. Her power surged within her like a tsunami, almost compelling her to follow her most primal impulses and crash ashore, destroying everything in its path.

She naively believed that love and understanding could bridge the gap between their identities, and that one day she would have the courage to confess to Deepple, and that Deepple would accept the fact that they were witches.

The truth is, no. Sylvia wasn't as brave as she imagined; she was always afraid that her marriage would turn out like Aunt Eileen's, and Depp wasn't as progressive and tolerant as she had imagined.

A marriage built on imagination and deception is a castle in the air, and Sylvia was bound to shatter it sooner or later. But tragically, it wasn't Sylvia who was punished. Only her daughter… only her daughter Puby paid the price for this ridiculous marriage.

A jumble of chaotic thoughts exploded in Sylvia's mind, and her power erupted like a tornado destroying a town. With a deafening "BOOM," all the items and furniture in the living room were reduced to rubble, beyond repair.

Depp Williams stood in the middle, unharmed, yet involuntarily fell to the ground.

"Where is Poppy!" She looked no different from those dreadful witches of legend, like a raging lioness whose cubs had been stolen. "I'm giving you one last chance!"

Deepell was terrified. Even a person would be bewildered by an oncoming, out-of-control vehicle, let alone such a powerful and deliberately malicious force. He blurted out, "London! Maria Abbey!"

The moment she learned of her daughter's whereabouts, Sylvia relaxed, and her magic exploded, tearing the living room floor apart! Dipple thought he was doomed, but when the smoke cleared, the destruction stopped before his eyes.

"I wish I could use the most vicious magic on you!" Sylvia's eyes were red, her hand gripping her wand trembling uncontrollably. She gritted her teeth and shouted, "I wish I could kill you!"

“Now you see. This is the power you’ve always feared, this is the witch you’ve always feared. I could have killed you, but Puby needs her mother. My child… is a thousand times, ten thousand times more important than your life!”

Depp was about to say something more, but Sylvia waved her wand to shut him up; she didn't want to hear him say anything more.

“I could alter your memory, but I won’t. Deepell William, I want you to remember this day, to remember what you did to your family out of ignorance and fear!”

"Now, get out of our lives. If you have even a shred of conscience that you consider yourself human, then never try to find or bother us again! You can say we're dead, or that you've abandoned us—whatever you want, choose whichever makes you feel more ashamed!"

"You're free! You're safe! Go pursue your damn dreams! If you dare show your face in front of me and Poppy again, your fate will be no different from this living room! Get out!"

London, Black Rose Lane.

Bang bang bang! Bang bang bang!

"Miss, uh, no!" Mrs. Willow immediately changed her tune upon seeing Sylvia's belly. "Madam, who are you looking for?"

“Winnie!” Sylvia said anxiously, “I’m looking for Winnie Brown!”

No sooner had she finished speaking than the door beside her slammed open. Winnie, her hair a mess, wearing a fluffy nightgown, leaned against the door, her eyes wide, and cried out, "Merlin! Hill! You...you...what's wrong with you! Come in!"

Mrs. Willow watched as her young neighbor pulled the lady inside. A little worried, she left the door slightly ajar, wondering if the lady needed any help.

She understood that women inevitably encounter setbacks in marriage, and Mrs. Willow had once considered drowning herself in the Thames. But she later gave up, firstly because the Thames was too dirty, and secondly because someone else deserved to die.

Mrs. Willow thought that if a lady was so in need that she had to rely on her girlfriend while heavily pregnant, she must have suffered a lot of injustice.

A short while later, the neighbor's door opened again. Winnie was already dressed, hurriedly wrapping her scarf around her neck, and turned to her friend, saying, "Wait for me here, I'm going now, I'll be back before dark!"

Sylvia took Winnie's hand and said firmly, "I'll go with you!"

"Where are you going!" Winnie was frantic. "And you're all pregnant!"

“I am Puby’s mother—” Sylvia said in a hoarse voice, “and the only one who should be held responsible. I cannot make it your responsibility to take her back; that is a mistake I should make up for myself.”

"What do you mean 'only you'!" Winnie grabbed a handful of hair. "Then why did you come to me? You've already done everything yourself, what do you need me for?"

“I need you to come with me to bring Pubi back,” Sylvia said, touching her belly, “and then send it away.”

Winnie was stunned by this shocking decision. She was a little slow to react and stammered, "Then...then let's go find your baby first."

Sylvia was pregnant and couldn't Apparate. So they went downstairs, hailed a taxi, and went directly to the Maria Monastery.

“No, why did you…” Winnie couldn’t understand at all, and she couldn’t help but question Sylvia, “Are you taking your anger out on the child because that bastard is such a jerk?”

“Hate? How could I hate it? No normal mother would hate her own child.” Sylvia closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and smiled bitterly. “But its arrival was a mistake, stemming from a long-broken lie and a ridiculous marriage… Polluted soil cannot nurture healthy trees.”

“Winnie, I thought about this on the way here. Poppy needs me, she needs a mother who loves her unconditionally—her world has just suffered a major blow. If I force myself to bring this child into the world, but I can't give them the same, enough love... that would be cruel to both children.”

Sylvia's tone grew increasingly firm. She didn't look at Winnie, but stared straight ahead, as if she were speaking to herself rather than explaining to a friend.

"As a mother, giving life is simply following the instinct to reproduce. In inappropriate circumstances, it can become an irresponsible impulse. True courage is having the courage to bear the pain of giving up and to end the tragedy on my own."

“You…” Winnie suddenly seemed to remember something and asked cautiously, “How did you find out where the child is?”

Sylvia looked at Winnie and unexpectedly revealed a girlish smile: "Guess?"

Winnie shuddered at her unusual behavior: "You killed him?"

After saying that, she quickly checked her spell to make sure the Muggle driving the taxi couldn't hear anything.

“Let’s change course and go back to your home first!” Winnie swallowed hard and blinked rapidly. “Damn it, the Dark Lord kills people without burying them… No problem, I can pretend to be a fugitive dark wizard who killed Muggles and let those blood-stained guys take the blame. Anyway, they deserved to be in Azkaban!”

“No.” Seeing her best friend ready to be her accomplice, Sylvia finally relaxed a little after a long day. “He can’t stand up to my future with Puby.”

Winnie breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.

“Winnie, for a moment I really wanted to kill him.” Sylvia’s eyes were downcast, her gaze somewhat blank. “How could he do something like that and still have the nerve to come back to me?”

“But when I think of my child, when I tell you about the cruel things dark wizards do… if I were to use my power to torture a defenseless Muggle, how would I be any different from the Man from Dark Lord?”

Former Death Eater Winnie couldn't help but say, "Baseness is the passport of the base, nobility is the epitaph of the noble. *When you feel that what you did was base, did he feel even a shred of remorse for abandoning his child?"

“I agree with you giving up revenge for the sake of the child, but I disagree with you letting him go for the sake of so-called morality—he deserves to die!”

Sylvia looked out the window again, seemingly trying to guess how far away she was from the child. She almost muttered to herself, "Did I say I would let him go? I'm not a judge, I have no right to judge him. He's a Muggle, and he should be punished in a Muggle way."

Winnie was confused, but the taxi stopped, and they arrived at the entrance of Maria's Abbey. She paid the Muggle driver the fare, then turned around and found Sylvia still standing there, not in a hurry to go inside to look for the child.

"Do you think Puby will forgive me?" Sylvia finally seemed to be getting anxious. "I'm a little afraid to go in."