HP North Star's Radiance

Winnie could see clear worry and hesitation in the child's eyes, but Praris obediently continued eating.

"Who did you learn from?" Winnie asked with a keen interest.

Praris looked up in confusion.

“Chocolate,” Winnie said, “and touching your mother’s back.”

“Sister Laura,” Praris said.

Winnie racked her brains before she remembered that it seemed to be an elderly nun. While they were talking to the priest, someone kept calling that name, and at that moment an elderly nun was running around—luckily, it wasn't too far away, or she wouldn't have remembered.

What a clever child! She's even learning how the old nun cared for her child to care for her own mother.

Winnie was eager to try, probably inheriting the Dark Lord's old habit, and really wanted to take Praris as her student and teach her magic—she was sure she would learn quickly. This spellcasting expert had no idea that this was just a five-year-old little wizard.

Sylvia cried and cried until she fell into a deep sleep.

Winnie didn't dare move a pregnant woman, so she found a blanket to cover her and lit the fireplace even higher.

Sylvia was barely holding on; she knew that if she showed any abnormality, the priest wouldn't allow her to take the child away, and she was also afraid she would frighten her daughter again. It was during her argument with Depp that her daughter's magic had gone out of control. She was truly terrified of her own unpredictable nature!

But this suppressed feeling completely overwhelmed her in the hospital. She knew she had to weigh the pros and cons and make the best decision for the moment, but what mother could easily give up? She wouldn't even use magic on a Muggle who had abandoned her daughter, so how could she easily give up the child in her womb?

"Was the path I chose really the right one?"

Sylvia kept asking herself questions, like shouting from the edge of a cliff, and the echoes kept coming from all directions.

She frantically recalled everything from the past, like a fish swimming upstream in a river of memories. If I had accepted Deepall properly, if I hadn't gotten pregnant with a second child, if I hadn't gotten married, if I hadn't met Deepall, if I... "Sylvia Prince, if you ask me, you'd be better off dying in the Wizarding Wars like your father, rather than marrying a Muggle. That would be cleaner."

If I had listened to Severus, I would have died sooner, which would have been cleaner.

Sylvia couldn't help but think that perhaps she should have died long ago. If she hadn't existed, there wouldn't have been so much sorrow. Poppy was a good child, and now she would hurt Poppy, bringing pain to her own child and friend. Winnie had finally escaped the war, and she would bring her pain, making her live so cautiously.

Yes, Dumbledore saved Winnie, which means Winnie didn't do anything truly heinous. It's better for her to entrust Poppy to Winnie's care and let Winnie teach her than for her to be with that awful couple, Deepple.

She couldn't bear to let the child leave alone, but what if she left with the child? Then... the child wouldn't be lonely.

Side Story: Sylvia's Choice 3

When Sylvia woke up, it was completely dark. The fireplace crackled, and snowflakes drifted silently outside the window. She propped herself up and stared blankly at the falling snowflakes.

In the silent, snowy night, Sylvia felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of loneliness and isolation. Her children and friends were all around her, yet they seemed so distant.

"Even if there's not a single snowflake missing, winter will still come."

Sylvia suddenly had this thought.

Praris is still young, and she has only been getting to know herself again for less than a day. Her disappearance will soon be erased by time, and her unstable emotions will only hurt her.

Compared to her own fragility, Winnie was a normal wizard. Compared to the child in her womb, she was the real burden. Her existence would only cause them trouble, forcing them to care for a patient whose condition fluctuated... Now that she had entrusted the child to reliable people, it was time to leave.

Yes, from the very beginning, Sylvia was the source of the tragedy; without her, there would be no so much suffering. This thought, like a devil whispering in Sylvia's ear, tempted her to cross the river of life to the other side.

Sylvia stood up quietly, walked to her coat hanging on the coat rack, put it on silently, and then took out Praris's identification and documents from her pocket and gently placed them on the dining table.

First, she took out the girls' clothes she and Winnie had bought that afternoon, carefully matched them, and placed them neatly on the sofa. Then, she picked up Winnie's quill pen and meticulously wrote down the instructions for caring for Prader on parchment:

"Winnie, Poppy likes to eat cold things, but her stomach is always a bit sensitive. She gets diarrhea easily if she eats too much, so we usually only let her have one ice cream a day."

"Pubi isn't a picky eater, but she likes to try anything new. She won't tell you what she wants to eat; you have to ask her if she wants to try it. This child thinks that asking for food is something only childish kids do."

"She's smart. Don't treat her like a child. Treat her like an adult, just like us, and she'll be happy. Most importantly, either don't grant her requests, or if you do, make sure you do it, or explain why you can't do it. Otherwise, she'll be secretly unhappy."

"She's a very, very good child, very understanding of adults' feelings and difficulties..."

As she wrote this, Sylvia's tears fell again, wetting the parchment. She had to tilt her head back and blink hard to stop the tears from flowing.

"She's a very kind child..."

Sylvia couldn't write anymore. She covered her mouth, feeling disgusted with herself—what right did she have to write such things? What was the difference between her and Deppel? Didn't she also think she was good to Praris, but in reality, she was abandoning Praris?

But what should she do?

What should she do?

Mom, Dad, Severus!

What should I do?

Sylvia felt as if she were rowing a canoe to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, looking around but seeing no direction pointing towards hope.

Abandoning an unborn child is wrong, keeping an unborn child is wrong, living is wrong, dying is wrong... Perhaps, her very existence is a mistake.

She had let down her father, who had always hated Muggles. She had let down Severus, her cousin had tried to persuade her, but she hadn't listened. She had let down Winnie, becoming a burden to her. She had let down Prarese and the unborn child, failing in her responsibilities as a mother… Deepell had let her and the child down, and she had even let Deepell down, hindering his dreams.

Sylvia felt feverish, her head throbbed, and she felt nauseous. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She opened her mouth to gag, but no sound came out and nothing came out.

She wrote on the paper again and again: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Winnie, I'm sorry for causing you trouble. Poppy is a very good child, easy to raise and very well-behaved. Please love her for me... I was a mistake. Goodbye, I love you all."

Sylvia crossed out the last sentence, folded the parchment, put it in the envelope, and placed it with Praris's documents.

She didn't know what she was thinking, and drifted out like a ghost. Before leaving, she stopped at the door and noticed the hat on the coat rack was the one they had bought together for 500 pounds. That price was quite a burden for two students, but because Winnie liked it so much, Sylvia took some money from her piggy bank.

Sylvia touched her hat as if she had touched a good friend, and smiled faintly, saying silently, "Goodbye, Winnie."

She brought nothing with her, only the clothes she had worn when she came to Black Rose Alley, and walked downstairs in a daze.

Sylvia thought that if she were to leave this world, it would be best not to choose a place too close by, for she was afraid that Winnie would be reminded of the past.

It doesn't snow often in London winters, but today it unexpectedly started to snow. The London night was quiet with few people around, and Sylvia looked left and right before deciding to head northwest.

She inexplicably remembered that her cousin Severus's house was in the northwest. Severus was always right, unlike her own foolishness. She hoped this time it was the right decision, hoped she could ultimately head in the right direction, even if the end was death.

“Madam!” a middle-aged woman’s voice rang out, “That lady up ahead! Miss Winnie’s friend!”

Sylvia turned around and saw Winnie's neighbor, the Muggle lady.

"Madam, where are you going?" Mrs. Willow asked softly. "It's already dark, and it's so cold, and you're dressed so lightly."

Sylvia didn't feel cold. On the contrary, she was hot, her whole body steaming. She only vaguely remembered Winnie saying that the Muggle lady was sometimes overly enthusiastic.

"Thank you, I'm not cold," Sylvia said softly. "I...I'm going to my cousin's house."

“You should wear more clothes when you go to your cousin’s house!” Mrs. Willow said without hesitation, taking off her scarf and wrapping it around Sylvia’s neck. “Madam, where does your cousin live?”

“Kirkworth,” Sylvia said instinctively, but quickly realized she had misspoke.

“That’s far!” Mrs. Willow exclaimed in surprise. “So you’re going to the station? I’ll go with you; I have nothing else to do.”

Sylvia had never met a Londoner as enthusiastic as Mrs. Willow. She was like an American without any sense of boundaries, striking up a conversation at the slightest eye contact!

Mrs. Willow hailed a taxi for Sylvia, and the two rode all the way to King's Cross Station. She asked Sylvia what time her ticket was for and even offered to see her off at the train station.

Sylvia was in a difficult position, and she could only confess, "I didn't buy a ticket."

"Did you forget? It's alright, pregnancy makes you forgetful," Mrs. Willough said. "Winnie and I are neighbors, I've already bought it for you!"

Sylvia sat awkwardly on the bench at the train station, glancing at Mrs. Willow's retreating figure and noticing her occasionally turning back to smile at her. Sylvia touched the scarf around her neck, her thoughts of running away being forced to abandon.

Mrs. Willow did indeed buy Winnie a ticket to Kirkworth, which arrived an hour later. She sat next to Sylvia and asked with a smile, "Where are you from?"

“West Sussex,” Sylvia said somewhat awkwardly, “I was born in Crawley.”

Sylvia decided to die, but Mrs. Willow was there, hindering her actions.

Mrs. Willow said with a smile, "It's warmer in the south, a place we should go for a winter vacation. How can we go to Kirkworth?"

“My parents are gone,” Sylvia said somewhat coldly. “There’s nothing worth going to.”

"So you're planning to visit your cousin?" Mrs. Willow asked. "Why don't you bring your child? Winnie is such a fiery little girl."

Sylvia was speechless. There was no reason for a single mother to travel far away without her child, instead entrusting him to an unmarried young friend.

Mrs. Willow said softly, "Madam, you look very sad."

Sylvia avoided eye contact.

"Getting pregnant must be very difficult, right?" Mrs. Willow said softly. "It might make you laugh, but when I was young, I couldn't stand it either. I swore I wouldn't have a baby no matter how much money you offered! Luckily, my friends are all very nice. They've been there for me even when I was crying all the time. You're very lucky, Madam. Winnie is a lovely friend."

“You know I wasn’t planning on going to Kirkworth,” Sylvia said suddenly.

Mrs. Willow paused for a moment, then smiled warmly. "I know. Madam, to be honest, the way you stand in the snow is just like how I looked when I was young."

“It’s different.” Sylvia suddenly raised her voice. “You don’t understand, you don’t comprehend, and nobody can understand me!”

Passing travelers glanced at the two of them before continuing on their way.

“Yes, it’s different,” Mrs. Willow said tolerantly. “It snows every year in England, and every year the snow is different. But people sometimes have similar feelings when they see snow.”

Mrs. Willow gestured to her chest and said seriously, "Back then, I was walking into the water, and the Thames was flooding this place... Thinking back, the water was so cold! I was determined to give up on this world; I already had a child then."

Sylvia was stunned: "You're willing to give up?"

“I can’t bear to part with it,” Mrs. Willow said, “but it’s too painful, isn’t it?”

Sylvia's eyes instantly reddened, and she nodded heavily: "It's too painful... Yes, it's too painful. I'm sorry, I'm a coward, not a proper Gryffindor... I'm in so much pain."

She rambled on, "My memory is getting worse and worse... All I can do is cry and shed tears... I vomit all the time... I'm even getting worse at using magic... Sometimes I can't even see the stars... I'm sorry..."

Mrs. Willow didn't know what "Gryffindor" was, nor did she understand anything about "magic," but she gently hugged Sylvia: "No, it's not your fault. You're probably sick. Being sick is never the patient's fault... Madam, you need a doctor."

"Sick?" Sylvia said, her eyes still blurry with tears. "I don't have a fever."

Mrs. Willow said patiently, "It's not just a fever that makes you sick. My dear, our hearts can get sick too."

Black Rose Alley.

Winnie woke up with a start and found that it was Prarese shaking her.

“Baby—” Winnie drawled lazily, “You scared me. What’s wrong? Are you hungry again?”

"Mom," Praris said anxiously, "Mom went out alone!"

"Huh?" Winnie jumped out of bed, tossing her hair haphazardly. "Hill went out? Did she say where she went?"

Before Praris could answer, she hurriedly got up, put on her shoes, picked up the child, and headed to the living room, calling out Sylvia's name incoherently.

“I believe you!” Prarese patted Winnie on the shoulder.

Winnie opened the envelope in a few quick steps and immediately noticed the water stains on the parchment.

Zheng—

The last thread in her mind snapped. She turned to look out the window at the flying snow and blurted out, "It's over!"

Winnie put Praris down, staggered to the coat rack, hastily threw on a trench coat, and rushed back to Praris: "Pubi, I'm going to find your mother. Don't wander off here, wait for us to come back!"