HP North Star's Radiance

She had said not long ago that it was her responsibility, but when the time came, she backed down.

“If you don’t go in, she’ll never forgive you for the rest of her life,” Winnie said cruelly and truthfully. “And she probably doesn’t even know who you are, does she? Your spells are both good and bad; you can forget everything but not alter memories! Snape was right to call you that; you’re always wasting your talent.”

Winnie is right, but why did the Sylvia of the past need to cherish her talent? She grew up in a pure-blood family, had a loving father, a wealthy fortune amassed by him, and exceptional talent. Even if she chose her studies arbitrarily, she still graduated smoothly.

Sylvia clenched her fist: "You're right, I have to face it myself."

In the past, she was like a block of firewood, always needing someone to push her along. After breaking up with Winnie, Winnie wouldn't contact her, and she wouldn't contact Winnie either. After having a conflict with Deepple, Deepple didn't ask her about it and always thought it could be resolved later, until her life suddenly collapsed.

But things are different now. Her inaction has ruined her child. There's no one to stand in her way anymore; Sylvia, as a mother, must take the initiative and open her arms to shield her child from life's hardships.

"You're looking for a child named Praris Prince?" Reverend Dorian's gaze turned somewhat unfriendly. "Madam, may I ask your relationship to the child?"

“I am her mother,” Sylvia said. “My name is Sylvia Prince.”

After saying that, she handed over her and her child's identification documents.

“Madam, perhaps it is presumptuous of you to ask this, but why would we find a child in a church?” Reverend Dorian said somewhat sternly. “If you are unable to raise a child, you can seek help, but that is by no means an excuse for abandoning her.”

“I didn’t abandon Puby!” Sylvia blurted out instinctively, but as soon as she said it, tears fell like rain in London, not heavy but seemingly endless.

Winnie immediately stepped in front of Sylvia, angrily saying, "This isn't Hill's fault! It's that—"

“Winnie!” For some reason, Sylvia stopped Winnie from continuing. “Puby will never be abandoned again, never! I have the means and the money to raise her. She will never appear in any charity again, unless she is helping others!”

“Father, I vouch for Sylvia,” Winnie immediately added. “My book is on display in the bookstore, under the pen name ‘Raven.’ If the child gets into trouble, you can go to the publisher and expose me, ruining my reputation!”

Father Dorian saw Sylvia's slightly protruding belly and sighed. He said in a low voice, "Of course, madam, you can take your child with you. No one can stop you from being with your child."

Sylvia and Winnie were led into the monastery by Father Dolin. The environment there seemed quite ordinary. Older children sat close together with younger ones, sewing handkerchiefs with needle and thread.

She spotted Praris almost instantly. The boy looked a little dazed, lost in thought, oblivious to the needle pricking his hand, staring at the blood on it, seemingly lost in thought.

"Pubie!" Sylvia exclaimed anxiously.

Before she could reach Praris, a nun snatched the needle and thread from Praris, put her hands on her hips, and angrily said, "Praris! Are you even paying attention to sewing?! Don't you feel the pain when you prick yourself?! You've got blood all over your handkerchief!"

It's hard to say whether the nun was more concerned about being pricked by a needle or getting something on her handkerchief.

"Why are you scolding her!" Sylvia suddenly rushed out and questioned the nun. "She's only five years old! She's hurt! Is a handkerchief more important than a child?"

The nun was startled, then smiled and said, "Madam, I was teaching this child! If she's always distracted, she won't learn to sew well."

“She doesn’t need to learn sewing unless she’s interested,” Sylvia said.

Winnie quietly turned her handkerchief into a bandage and wrapped it around Praris's wound, which was about to heal if left untreated—you can't expect much rationality from a mother who has just almost lost her child.

Father Dorian intervened to smooth things over, telling Sister Maine to go do something else. Maine, however, asked, "Does this lady want to adopt Praris?"

“More or less,” Father Dorian said. “Maine, look at the other children. Why is Sally crying?”

Mayne, however, was surprisingly concerned about Praris, her expression somewhat anxious: "Father, but Praris has her own name. What if her family comes looking for her soon?"

Side Story: Sylvia's Choice 2

“Alright, Maine,” Father Dorian frowned, repeating, “this isn’t your job. Go take care of Sally!”

After Maine had to leave, Father Dorian smiled at Sylvia: "Our nuns always follow the Lord's merciful teachings and think of the children. Of course, you are different, madam; you are Praris's mother."

After saying that, he squatted down and said to Praris, who was looking up as if thinking about something, "Praris, your mother has come to take you home."

Praris looked up at Sylvia. She seemed a little hesitant, or as if confirming something, and after a long while, she nodded and walked towards her mother.

“The child is a little slow to react,” Father Dorian said. “It’s probably because his fever has just broken.”

“Fever? How could she be sick?” Sylvia said with certainty. “She’s just trying to make sure I’m her mother.”

Father Dowling said, "The child was exposed to a cold draft while sleeping, but a doctor has already examined her. She is in good health and there is nothing wrong with her; she just doesn't like to talk."

Sylvia signed one promise after another before she was able to successfully "redeem" her daughter from the convent.

After leaving the convent, Sylvia asked Winnie to pick up the child. Winnie asked, puzzled, "Why? She can walk by herself, can't she?"

“Pubby doesn’t like to walk by himself when he goes out,” Sylvia said. “He gets very unhappy when he looks up and sees a bunch of butts.”

Kids are so hard to understand, so Winnie picked up Praris and the child visibly felt much better.

“I am your mother, Poppy,” Sylvia said softly, as if afraid of shattering the glass doll.

Praris stared intently at Sylvia with her large, dark eyes and said with certainty, "You are Mom."

Winnie looked at this one, then at that one: "Didn't you completely forget about her?"

“Pubi is very smart,” Sylvia said with a hint of pride, but her eyes held an overwhelming sadness, as if she were about to cry. “You know I’m not lying, are you?”

Such a clever child didn't ask herself why she didn't remember her mother, nor did she ask Sylvia why she looked so sad; she simply nodded.

"It's all in the past, it's all in the past!" Winnie quickly changed the subject. If she weren't holding her child, she would have slapped herself twice. Why did she have to ask?!

Winnie then asked, "Shall we go home now... or...?"

“Go straight to the Muggle hospital.” Sylvia closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and said, “Wait for me outside the operating room.”

Sylvia couldn't wait any longer; the longer she delayed, the less she could bring herself to do it. Winnie then hailed another taxi and rushed to the hospital, where she skillfully used magic on the Muggle doctors, persuading them to volunteer to perform the surgery on Sylvia.

During her time serving Voldemort, Winnie didn't commit murder or arson, but she did steal a lot of petty crimes. Changing a Muggle's perception wasn't a heinous crime for her.

To be honest, she herself has no moral compass, but Sylvia certainly doesn't. It's unbelievable that someone who wouldn't even dare kill a toad or a rat back in her school days would dare to do something like this now—you can't judge a book by its cover!

“I’ve got that Muggle doctor sorted out,” Winnie said cheerfully. “Are you…ready?”

She used magic to exclude Prarese from the matter. Knowing how intelligent Prarese was, Winnie couldn't let the child witness his mother undergoing a drainage procedure.

Sylvia sat on the waiting bench, stroking her stomach, looking somewhat dazed. She stood up, then sat down again, panting heavily, her eyes blinking rapidly until they were red with tears: "Winnie... I... I didn't."

“I can feel it, it doesn’t want to leave.” Sylvia seemed a little out of breath. “It will hate me, won’t it? I’m a cruel executioner, unfit to be a mother… I’m the cause of all this tragedy, and now I’m going to take another life!”

Winnie quickly stepped forward and patted Sylvia's back to soothe her: "Hey, didn't you say you wanted to stop the tragedy from happening to you? What are you going to do now?"

Sylvia seemed emotionally stable just moments ago at the monastery, but now she's anything but. She was the one who calmly and rationally said she wanted to give up, but now she's the one saying no.

Winnie was completely confused. She respected her best friend's decision, but which decision should she respect?

Sylvia covered her face, tilted her head back, and coughed heavily, "Cough cough cough! I don't know, I don't know... Winnie! Winnie! Let's go back! Let's go back! Let's get that Muggle doctor back to normal!"

"Huh?" Winnie was flustered and hurriedly replied, "Okay, okay! Do you want to see a doctor... No, no, I understand, let's go home!"

She frantically dispelled the spell and waved to Praris: "Pubi, come here quickly, let's go home!"

“It’s okay,” Winnie said somewhat awkwardly to Sylvia. “It’s alright if the baby is born. I’ll try my best to take good care of you and the baby… Hmm, I have a strong learning ability, this certainly won’t be any harder than an ancient spell, right?”

Sylvia didn't speak, the wind blowing in through the car window making her hair flutter. At this moment, she seemed to have regained her composure, and even looked somewhat downcast.

Sylvia didn't say a word the whole way, and Winnie didn't dare utter a sound either. Honestly, her best friend was now more unpredictable than the Dark Lord.

Before the two witches even reached their doorstep, they saw Winnie's neighbor with the door open, peering out.

Mrs. Willow asked, somewhat overly enthusiastically, "Winnie, is this your friend? She doesn't look well. If you need any help, just knock on my door."

“Oh, yes, they’ll be staying with me for a while,” Winnie replied casually. “Thank you, Mrs. Willow!”

Winnie opened the door with one hand, put Praris down, and turned to Sylvia, saying, "Mrs. Willow is a nosy Muggle, so annoying!"

As soon as Praris landed, he opened his eyes and looked around, pacing back and forth like a cat or dog getting acquainted with its new home.

“Don’t overthink it.” Winnie’s coat and scarf flew onto the coat rack on their own. “There’s always a solution. I once thought I was doomed. The Dark Lord and the dogs of the Ministry of Magic were chasing me, but Dumbledore and Elizabeth saved me in the end.”

Sylvia remained silent, sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands, motionless like a statue.

"Then keep thinking!" Winnie said as she strolled around her house, slipping into the kitchen as she went. "I'll make you something to eat; you can't not eat while you're pregnant!"

She was a lazybones who always got by, but she couldn't be like that while taking care of a pregnant woman. Winnie waved her wand to make the knife chop vegetables and the pot stew, while she would occasionally peek into the living room until she discovered Praris standing right under her nose, watching her.

"Ouch!" Winnie patted her chest. "You scared me to death, Poppy!"

“Sister (sis, a term of endearment for a nun), are you looking at Mom?” Praris asked.

“Just call me Winnie.” Winnie pointed to the living room and said softly, “Your mother is unhappy, let’s not make her angry.”

Prarese said with a serious expression, "Mom is complicated."

“I don’t think anyone could be without complicated feelings at a time like this,” Winnie said, gently pinching the child’s cheek. “Come cook with me, little one!”

Winnie prepared a table full of dishes and set them on the table, calling out Sylvia's name, but she didn't want to eat.

"I'm sorry, Winnie," Sylvia suddenly burst into tears. "I'm not hungry, I don't want to eat anything, I'm sorry..."

"If you don't want to eat, then don't." Winnie waved her hands repeatedly. "Then I'll take Puby to eat first!"

Winnie had no choice but to eat first, and then serve food to the children. She noticed that Praris was wolfing down his food, and couldn't help but wonder if her cooking skills had improved.

“Eat slowly, Poppy,” Winnie said.

Praris suddenly stopped what he was doing and extended his hand.

Winnie looked at Prarese's hand with a blank expression, scratched her head, and picked up a piece of chocolate and placed it in her palm.

Praris showed the same bewildered expression.

“Children can only have one piece,” Winnie said.

Praris hesitated, then withdrew her hand and placed the chocolate on her own plate. After a moment, she suddenly grabbed the chocolate and ran towards Sylvia.

"Hey! Poppy!"

Winnie was startled and instinctively tried to use magic to stop Praris, but she was afraid of hurting the five-year-old child. In a moment of panic, she used magic to freeze a flowerpot that was not supposed to move.

Praris walked up to Sylvia, holding a chocolate bar in one hand and offering it to his mother, while touching her with the other hand as she closed her eyes.

Sylvia looked up abruptly and shouted irritably, "Winnie! I need to be alone—Puby?"

Her daughter stood in front of her and handed her a piece of chocolate, seemingly hoping to cheer her up with the sweetness.

Sylvia's face twitched, as if she couldn't find a suitable expression. Within a second or two, tears fell: "I'm sorry... Pubi, Mommy is like this again... Thank you, thank you for the chocolate, good boy."

Winnie sat in the armchair at the dining table, witnessing these rapid and dramatic changes.

Was her friend about to yell at her? In seven years, the only time they truly argued was the day she decided to follow Voldemort.

Why did her friend shed tears so easily? As if tears were free. As if it were raining all over Hill's world, and the tears just overflowed from Hill's body in that instant.

This felt foreign to Winnie, but more than anything, it filled her with worry. She had only heard a rough outline from her friend and had missed several pivotal years of Hill's life.

Prarese took off her shoes and jumped onto the sofa, gently patting Sylvia's back. Sylvia cried even harder, making Prarese pause in surprise. She hurriedly jumped down and ran to Winnie's side, tugged at Winnie's trouser leg, and pointed to her mother.

Winnie didn't know what to do either: "Pubi, let your mother have some peace and quiet!"