HP North Star's Radiance

What is heaven? This is heaven!

Praris, with the mindset of "making money from every book I read," practically lived in the library.

Millison complained at the dinner table, “I’ve hardly ever seen you! You don’t look like a Slytherin at all, more like a Ravenclaw or something.”

Prarese smirked. "By that standard, Professor Snape will be snatched away by Ravenclaw, and I'll be very disappointed."

Even Pansy and Draco couldn't help but burst into laughter. He slapped the table and said, "You're something else!"

Chapter 6 Purebloodism

At breakfast time, which is also the time when the owls deliver messages, Draco's mother would bring him some handmade cookies. He would always make a disgusted face, but then eat them all up.

She looks like a child from a happy family; it's truly enviable.

Pansy's family didn't send anything, only letters. Most of the packages contained clothes and jewelry she and Daphne had bought—even though they had to wear magic robes at school. Millison's family rarely sent letters, and she didn't write much either; they were like familiar strangers.

Only Prarese didn't write, but she seemed indifferent, intently savoring her croissant.

"Don't you have any mail at home?" Milison blurted out, immediately regretting it.

“Of course not,” Praris said matter-of-factly, as if it were something perfectly normal, which surprised Milison.

Then, she stuffed the last bite of the croissant into her mouth. "We should get ready to go to class."

Perhaps because Pralis got ahead of the game, Hogwarts classes weren't difficult for her.

Professor Flitwick, who taught the Charms class, was very flamboyant when teaching these spells, reciting them syllable by syllable. But when he himself cast spells, he spoke as if it were normal speech.

Praris quickly grasped the key point: the difference lay in the mastery and comprehension of the spell. Slow speech and precise movements were to avoid mistakes, while an exaggerated tone was for sufficient engagement.

Just like when they learn theology in a monastery, priests teach children to memorize the Bible, often requiring them to recite it word for word. But when they themselves communicate with others, they can only speak in general sentences.

Therefore, once you've mastered the key points of a spell, you can completely streamline unnecessary actions, just like an adult wizard.

Praris, too lazy to waste time pretending not to understand, quickly cast a spell to make the feathers fly up and started flipping through the book.

Professor Flitwick praised her for learning quickly, but still reminded her to build a solid foundation, and finally gave Slytherin an extra point.

“Prince, you learn really fast. It seems you’re from a wizarding family too,” Daphne said to her for the first time after the spells class.

"Really? I think it's fine," Praris said casually. "These courses aren't difficult; with your intelligence, you should be able to learn them easily."

Daphne wanted to say something more, but Praris didn't want to get bogged down in such useless talk: "However, learning is easy, but truly intelligent people are rare. Most people are heartbreakingly mediocre, like..."

Prareas was adept at diverting attention; she turned to look at the passing Gryffindors. Daphne was quickly distracted, as Malfoy began to make sarcastic and mocking remarks.

This is a strange phenomenon in Slytherin: Draco Malfoy seems to lose his mind and start opposing Gryffindor and Harry Potter whenever he encounters them, supposedly because Harry Potter angered him.

And at this point, this strange mechanism can play a powerful role.

Prarese slipped away while they were locked in a standoff with Gryffindor.

Salazar Slytherin was one of the founders of Hogwarts and the founder of Slytherin.

In the early days of Hogwarts, Muggles were terrified of wizards who were considered outsiders, which led to the persecution of some of the weaker wizards.

Salazar Slytherin could not trust Muggle-born wizards, believing they would expose the wizards' existence and become traitors, and therefore was unwilling to admit Muggle-born students.

Slytherin's admissions philosophy differed from that of the other three wizards. The founders' conflicts grew daily until Slytherin himself left.

In modern times, a Slytherin-born enigma founded an extreme wizarding organization called the Death Eaters, whose members were formerly known as the Knights of Volpugis. They were obsessed with dark magic, fanatically pursued pure blood, killed Muggles and wizards from Muggle families, and fervently worshipped their leader, the enigma.

Praris raised an eyebrow, recalling Daphne Greengrass's probing. No wonder she asked Praris if she came from a wizarding family, and Millison was curious why no one was sending her letters.

The Man of Vander was a Slytherin graduate, therefore many Death Eaters were also Slytherin students. According to socialization theory, children easily imitate their parents' values; thus, many of the children of these Slytherin Death Eaters are also Slytherins.

The parents' pursuit of pure-blood values ​​has also influenced these students.

From this perspective, Praris is full of suspicious points: her hesitation regarding the Sorting Hat, and the lack of letters from family. Yet, she doesn't seem like a child from a non-wizard family: her confident demeanor in the face of Millison's doubts, and her ample understanding of the wizarding world.

Praris didn't care much about such things. If there were flaws, there were no flaws. Besides, what was there to worry about?

Someone who can be defeated by a baby is hardly a big shot.

However, this incident also served as a wake-up call for her. The wizarding world was not as simple as she had imagined. Where there are people, there is politics, and where there is politics, one cannot be careless.

By the time Praris returned to his dorm with the borrowed books, it was already dark.

"You're really late," Milison said with a frown. "Nina's been spitting out a lot of fuzz lately."

"Get her some hair removal potion," Old Tom had explained to her about cat care, "They sell hair removal potion in Diagon Alley."

"Hey ladies, we have Potions class tomorrow!" Pansy said, glancing at the schedule. "Tomorrow won't be boring."

"What do you mean?" Praris asked, pulling out her potions textbook. "Is the Dean's lectures interesting?"

“No, Potions class sounds boring, but we’re with Gryffindors!” Pansy said excitedly.

Daphne was combing her hair, looking rather uninterested: "I really don't understand why Malfoy is always targeting Harry Potter. He's clearly from a wizarding family."

“Does Slytherin need a reason to target Gryffindor? As long as Draco is willing, that’s all that matters,” Pansy retorted without hesitation.

Praris picked up his quill and began to write: "Oh, then have fun, having fun is a good thing."

“You’re so perfunctory, Pray!” Millison said, holding Nina and raising her little paw. “Don’t you agree, Nina?”

The Potions classroom wasn't far from the Slytherin common room, and Praris went there ahead of time with her books, her mind racing with the knowledge she had previewed.

Professor Snape was the first wizard she knew, and the only one as wary of her as Sister Mayne. Pralis still vividly remembered his warnings to avoid trouble.

Praris inexplicably felt a surge of competitiveness and wanted to prove himself to this person.

After class began, Professor Snape took attendance like any other teacher, but he did it a little differently.

When he mentioned Harry Potter, Professor Snape paused for a moment: "Oh, yes, Harry Potter, this is our newest—a very famous person."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and the other two couldn't help but laugh, looking extremely gloating.

Praliss wasn't interested in that at all; what interested her was what Professor Snape was about to say—Potions, a precise and rigorous discipline, a discipline that could bring prestige, honor, and even prevent death.

Praris was excited; she felt hot all over and her breathing quickened. Her eyes widened as she stared intently at the instrument before her. Potions could heal, potions could kill; no wizard could live without them.

Yes, that's what she wanted. It didn't require fluctuating emotions, inconsistent performance, just enough intelligence and hard work to improve her skills.

"Potter! What do you get when you add daffodil root powder to artemisia infusion?"

One sip of the water is enough to kill.

Looking for a dung bead? A goat's stomach.

Boat-shaped aconite and wolfsbane aconite? They are both aconite.

Professor Snape didn't ask her, only Potter, but Prarese answered in her own mind.

Prarese wasn't particularly interested in such a simple question. She would much rather Professor Snape allow them to begin the experiment immediately.

Finally, the preamble was over, and the lab session began. Professor Snape had the students make a potion to treat boils.

She needs to weigh out nettles, crush their fangs, steam slugs with tentacles, and then add an appropriate amount of porcupine quills. It is important to note that the porcupine quills should be added after the crucible has been turned off or removed from the heat.

Praris quickly went through the process and precautions in his mind before starting.

By the time Professor Snape reached her from behind, she had already added the porcupine quills to the cauldron. Snape glanced at the table and said, "I'm glad you're not stupid," before walking toward Malfoy.

"Good heavens!" Milison exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were going to get yelled at. Before this, only Malfoy hadn't been yelled at."

“What do you mean you didn’t get scolded? Professor Snape just praised Draco,” Pansy retorted.

As Praris poured the potion into a bottle, he said listlessly, "Really? Then I should be honored to be compared to the genius Malfoy!"

Haha! Praris was annoyed.

She did not think Draco Malfoy was better than herself; she completed the entire experiment quite well, and both the operation process and the experimental results fully met the requirements of the textbook.

Pansy nodded in satisfaction, oblivious to Praris's sarcasm. Just as she was about to say something more, a series of loud cries came from the Gryffindor side.

"Those idiots," said a familiar-looking Slytherin girl. "How could they get this wrong? Did they not use their brains when they did the experiment?"

Prarese disagreed; she remembered that this girl had just been criticized by Professor Snape for shredding dried nettles into a paste.

An hour later, get out of class finally ended. Prarese walked out with the Slytherin girls. As she leaned in to listen to Millison's words, she saw Harry Potter.

Harry Potter stared at Praris for the third time, seemingly a little surprised. Then his gaze shifted to Praris's green collar, he opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

Chapter 7 Flight Lessons

Praliss didn't know what he wanted to do. Was he going to strike up a conversation with her? Unfortunately, she was a Slytherin and didn't want to be bothered by Slytherin classmates like he was.

But poor Harry Potter, it seems not only the Slytherin students are targeting you, but the Slytherin teachers are too.

Of all the courses, the one Praris hated even before it started was flying. Growing up in a convent, she had hardly participated in any sports; the only exercise she received was climbing up and down to maintain the convent's artwork (such as portraits) and doing a lot of housework.

Therefore, she knew nothing about sports and couldn't even imagine them.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, clearly has a particular fondness for Quidditch.

Over the course of a few days, Praris had heard several versions of his flying stories, most of which ended with him narrowly escaping a Muggle plane.

“Praley, have you ever ridden a broom?” Milison didn’t know why, but he always had to include Praley in everything, as if he was afraid that she would be neglected.

When she was asked the question, Pralis was engrossed in savoring a Cornish pie. From the moment she arrived at Hogwarts, she felt someone must be cooking, because food couldn't appear out of thin air—that didn't conform to Gump's fundamental law of transmutation.

So she quickly found the kitchen, discovered the hardworking house-elves, and ordered herself a dish.

To her surprise, however, the house-elves did not receive any payment for their work—which sounded like Praris before, when the monastery took her in and she had to work to stay there.

That makes sense. Praris nodded.

Praris thanked them for their efforts and promised to visit them often—just as the adults in the monastery did.

To be honest, talking is not allowed during meals at the monastery, except for pre-meal prayers, so she hasn't gotten used to Milison frequently cuing her.

Praris shook his head: "No, I don't like sports."

“Good heavens, Prince, you’ve never ridden a broomstick! I feel so sorry for you, never having experienced that kind of fun,” Malfoy said boastfully.

Then, he told a different version of the Malfoy flying story than before.

Praris looked the boy up and down, who was talking nonsense, and then took bites of the pie.

She waited politely until Malfoy finished telling his little stories about flying before sincerely asking, "Did your father cast a forgetfulness spell on Muggles?"

"What?" Malfoy was taken aback.