HP North Star's Radiance

About a week or two later, Prarese noticed that Ginny's notebook was missing, and her complexion improved.

Since she got rid of Ginny, Prarese felt much lighter. Although she was still curious about the truth, she no longer felt burdened.

Carrying the weight of someone's life is an incredibly heavy burden!

Besides Ginny's situation, Prarese discovered a new clue.

Draco said the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, and a Muggle-born wizard was killed. Fifty years—that's a very familiar number; Myrtle died almost fifty years ago, just over forty.

The deceased had a close connection with that washroom.

How can a basilisk roam Hogwarts undetected? Why did Myrtle die in the bathroom and why did Mrs. Norris also have problems near the bathroom?

Praris looked out the window at the giant squid swimming by, and the puddle of water in the corridor flashed through his mind.

Water? Water pipes!

That makes sense. The basilisk moves through water pipes, so there was a puddle of water near Lady Lorris, and Myrtle was murdered in the washroom.

The door to the secret room must be somewhere connected to the water pipes, such as in the floor drain or in one of the washrooms.

But the matter has been resolved, hasn't it? Prarese recalls that there haven't been any victims for a while now, so it seems Granger must have handed the notebook over to a professor a long time ago.

Praliss considered whether to tell the truth herself, hoping it might earn her house points like it did last year. But then she remembered Professor Snape's attitude and decided against it.

Chapter 36 Valentine's Day Surprise

Just when you think the world has returned to peace, reality will always slap you in the face, showing you what it means to be caught off guard.

February arrived, and Praris enjoyed a rare period of peace: reading, brewing medicine, tending to her plants, and studying her spells.

After realizing that his life was no longer in danger, Praris's interest in studying black magic greatly diminished.

Frankly speaking, black magic is indeed powerful, but it is also more likely to corrupt people, more likely to arouse hidden evil thoughts and desires, and cause people to lose themselves.

Praris once heard a saying: "Human desires are like a boulder rolling down a mountain; once they start, they can never be stopped."

When power is discovered to be so easily obtained, who would still be willing to suffer? When a person discovers that they can easily control the lives of others, who would still be willing to be bound by morality?

Two paths led through the woods, one overgrown with weeds, the other more commonly traveled. But in Praris's view, a path more traveled did not necessarily mean an easier one.

The path of dark magic is a shortcut overgrown with weeds; all gains depend on sufficient malice, and it inevitably leads to murder—the end that corrupts the soul. And once this process begins, it is difficult to stop.

In contrast, she would rather endure some hardship and try to create a spell that suits her.

After graduating from Ravenclaw, Miss Winnie initially worked on the Experimental Spells Committee at the Ministry of Magic, where she was responsible for interpreting the meaning and spelling of spells. In this role, she gained in-depth knowledge of spells and was considered a spell expert.

But she didn't stop at understanding and interpreting spells; she went on to develop her own new magic. This sounds impressive, but it's precisely why she caught the eye of the mysterious figure and was lured into joining the Death Eaters.

Winnie is a good teacher; she taught Praris how to create her own new spells.

Creating a new spell is first and foremost based on needs and inspiration. The invention of "Gloria Flame" is an example of inspiration, while Winnie's housework magic comes more from needs.

The most basic creation of spells is based on the improvement of old spells, such as the process from "Open the gates" to "Open the Arahu."

Miss Winnie wrote in her letter: "Beginners are advised not to try to invent entirely new magic without any foundation, as this is not only unsafe but also likely to damage their confidence."

In the 18th century, there was a gifted wizard who found learning existing spells too boring and decided to create his own. Without any experience, he "invented" a spell with extremely powerful offensive capabilities.

He thought that spells could be used as soon as they were invented, without undergoing systematic testing and verification. The unstable spells caused his wand to malfunction during use, ending his young life.

This is one of the historical origins of the Experimental Spells Committee. New spells were usually required to be submitted to the Experimental Spells Committee for review after they were created.

Praris's first improved spell was Water Tornado, based on Winnie's Water Wash spell. Her initial idea was to increase the speed of the Water Wash spell to achieve the effect of a tornado.

But she later discovered that the Water Wash spell could keep clothes contained within a certain area, like putting them in a washing machine. This is also an effect of tornadoes; when a tornado occurs, it pulls in surrounding food as it rotates.

Therefore, her improvement efforts tended to achieve a rolling effect while accelerating.

“You’ve been disappearing like a ghost lately,” Millison complained.

Praris realized he had neglected Milison, so he snuggled up to her affectionately and tried to cheer her up.

Milison sometimes felt that Praris was like a cat. You can't expect Nina to stay by your side forever. Kittens have their own little secrets too.

Milison whispered, "Tomorrow is February 14th."

"and then?"

Millison said in a gossipy tone, "Do you think Pansy might take advantage of this?"

"Do you two think I'm deaf?!" Pansy slapped Milison's head into Praris's arms.

“Pansy!” Prareas yanked Millison’s head off. “How are things between you and Draco?”

Pansy looked up at the fish swimming by outside the window: "I don't know, it's like he doesn't have the concept of love in his mind. He cares about Potter more than any other Slytherin. He doesn't have anyone he likes, only people he hates."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not myself. What was I like before I fell for him? I've almost completely forgotten. Don't laugh, but I don't actually dislike Gryffindor at all. I like him because Draco likes him, and I dislike him because Draco dislikes him. I feel like I've lost myself in this relationship."

Prarese didn't understand: "Why don't you try to give up on this relationship? Take some time to be yourself."

“I’ve gotten used to this life where my eyes are always on him. I can’t imagine what I would be like if I didn’t pay attention to him,” Pansy said wistfully.

Prarese said, "I don't think love is a habit."

Pansy rambled on: "Of course I know! Sometimes I feel pathetic, but sometimes I'm moved by my own pathos. It's like pursuing something hopeless is such a noble thing."

"That sounds a bit perverted," Millison remarked.

“It sounds like you don’t love him. You’re just torturing yourself by blindly obeying his love, repeatedly savoring this martyr-like feeling of love,” Praris suddenly realized.

Pansy paused for a moment: "No, I still like him."

"So what do you like about him? Have you figured it out after a year?" Praris brought up the question again.

Pansy stammered, "Um, I like him because he likes..."

“You like him, and you like the process of liking him,” Praris interjected. “Therefore, what he is like doesn’t matter, what he does doesn’t matter, whether he understands love doesn’t matter, and whether he loves you doesn’t matter. You feel like you’ve lost yourself in this one-sided relationship, but that’s your own choice.”

Pansy froze.

"Your family relationships aren't very good, are they?" Praris asked with a look of pity.

Millison was also stunned this time.

Pansy froze, turning her head slowly until she met Praris's gaze: "Praris, I really hate your kind of intelligence."

"I'm sorry," Praris said, realizing she had forgotten to be tactful again.

Not everyone is willing to confront their own inner thoughts, just as she herself has unspeakable secrets.

“Pansy, no matter what, I sincerely hope that you will love yourself before loving someone else. Otherwise, love will only be a poison that leads you to ruin.”

Praris thought that Pansy's greatest fortune was that Draco didn't love her. If Draco had reciprocated even the slightest bit of love, Pansy would have truly embarked on a path of no return.

Or perhaps this is how Pansy protects herself in this crazy love—choosing to love someone who doesn't love her back.

The next morning, Praris stopped at the entrance of the auditorium, took two steps back to make sure he hadn't gone the wrong way.

“Merlin’s socks weren’t like this last year, were they?” Milison’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

The four walls were covered with large pink flowers, and heart-shaped pieces of paper were flying everywhere.

Daphne, looking disgusted, peeled the scraps of paper off her head: "Don't let me find out who did this!"

“Is that an exclamation? Then Lockhart is undoubtedly it,” Prarese said.

Daphne swore as she walked into the auditorium: "If I find any scraps of paper in my breakfast, I'll throw them all over his head."

Pansy also entered the hall, instinctively looking for Draco's seat first. Upon seeing Draco, she seemed to remember something and turned to look at Praris.

Praris didn't notice Pansy's actions; she was picking scraps of paper out of the orange juice. "This is so unhygienic! I'm not eating breakfast today!"

Draco sneered when he heard her words: "With your build, you'd better not faint in class."

"No need for you to trouble yourself."

Praris ordered another glass of milk and poured it into his mouth before the paper scraps hit him.

Lockhart suddenly stood up and loudly claimed that the scraps of paper and large flowers were a surprise he had prepared for everyone.

“There’s only shock, no joy,” Zabini said coolly.

No sooner had Zabini finished speaking than Lockhart, that audacious fellow, began suggesting that everyone learn psychedelic magic from Professor Flitwick and love potions from Professor Snape.

puff--

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Several Slytherins choked or swallowed.

Prarese turned to Pansy and said, "You can't just copy this randomly."

"Do you think I'm stupid?!" Pansy said incredulously. "I'm perfectly lucid!"

"So, Prince, do you know how to brew love potions?" a younger Slytherin asked curiously.

Praris looked at him warily: "It's not difficult, Mr. Harper, but my potion of hatred works very well too."

Harper said sullenly, "Is it really necessary?"

Lockhart caused more trouble than that; he somehow acquired some dwarf messengers.

All day long, they roamed through the classrooms, driving the teachers to distraction.

“Miss Praris Prince!” the dwarf exclaimed in an exaggerated tone, “Here is a Valentine’s Day card that I wish to personally deliver to Miss Prince!”

The classroom fell silent instantly, all eyes fixed on Praris. Praris's head was spinning—why would someone give her a greeting card?!

This is definitely a prank!

"Ha, our Miss Prince is quite popular! If this weren't my class, I would definitely celebrate for you."

“Professor…I…” Praris’s face turned ashen.

The dwarf cleared his throat: "Please allow me to recite this love poem for you! Your long, black hair—"

"Enough!" Professor Snape's face was extremely ugly. "Miss Praliss, it seems your charm has affected our class! A friendly piece of advice: brew yourself a potion of forgetfulness after class so you can forget this embarrassing moment."

Praris could no longer contain herself; she abruptly stood up and raised her wand.

In just one second, she turned the dwarf in the pink clothes into a pink toad.

“Thank you for your advice, but I think it’s best to remember it so that this kind of thing doesn’t happen again,” Praris said through gritted teeth.

After class, Praris still had a sullen face, and no one dared to provoke her.