HP North Star's Radiance

Draco instinctively hid his hands behind his back: "What?"

"Indian sappanwood staining can be removed with alcohol. It seems you don't need my help, so you can handle it yourself."

Pralis didn't bother to figure out why Draco had that expression; she just found it a little funny. Draco's expression was strangely reminiscent of those virtuous women in oil paintings who had encountered Zeus.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, Prarese casually put down the alcohol bottle and turned to head towards Longbottom.

"Give me your hand." Praris's expression remained unchanged.

Draco looked up in surprise: "Hey, he's a Gryffindor!"

“Otherwise?” Praris looked at him, puzzled. “A complete cleanup.”

All the dirt under Longbottom's nails was cleaned out.

Draco rubbed his hands vigorously with alcohol, looking utterly frustrated, and glared at Longbottom several times in the process.

Neville didn't see Draco's glare at all. He flipped his palm over and was surprised to find that there really wasn't a single remnant of toad entrails under his fingernails.

Praris, who hadn't been able to test the brain surgery and had worked for over an hour, was anything but happy. She locked the door and headed to the common room with a sour look on her face.

Why did you choose to teach Longbottom?

Draco has long arms and legs, so even though Praris walks very fast, he can easily keep up.

"Are you enjoying this feeling? Flint has graduated, are you planning to find the next idiot who gives you a sense of educational accomplishment?"

Praris stopped and gave Draco a meaningful look: "It seems you care about my answer?"

She was a perceptive person, as keen as a snake, and no change around her could escape her notice.

The argument with Millison in second grade brought about some changes in her. This is understandable; no one wants to be completely naked and have no privacy in front of their friends.

She tried to curb her overly unrestrained thirst for knowledge, giving her friends some breathing space. So much so that Millison and the others could hardly recall the oppressive feeling Praris had once exerted on them.

But Draco's current behavior is too strange; this isn't the first time he's been so concerned about her relationship with Marcus.

In their freshman year, he suspected Prareas and Marcus were dating; in their sophomore year, he alerted Prareas to the gossip circulating in the college. Now, he's using Marcus to stab her and question her.

Prareas considered himself to have been through thick and thin with Draco, but he treated Crabbe and the others much better than he treated her.

"Hmph! You care? Use your brain!" Draco retorted. "You're a Slytherin, and Longbottom is a stupid Gryffindor. Do you really think your kindness will be rewarded?"

Praris suddenly realized that it was his Slytherin sense of belonging that was causing the problem!

Praresta shook his head honestly: "Professor Snape asked me to watch over you in his place, but I'd rather go back to my books. Longbottom is too stressed, which will affect his efficiency and increase my workload."

For every toad's guts Neville removed, Praris had to do more work. Even though she was fast, she wasn't one to be taken advantage of!

Praris paused for a moment: "As for whether it will produce any additional benefits—my political professor, Miss Stewart, believes that one should not be stingy with extending small acts of kindness. Sometimes they can have unexpected benefits."

After graduating, Stella joined the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic, working in its International Office of Magical Law. This department is the executive branch of the International Confederation of Wizards, representing the Confederation in reviewing draft laws.

Percy Weasley of Gryffindor joined the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the same cohort as her, becoming Director Crouch's assistant. This guy treated Crouch's words as ironclad rules, obsessed with writing reports on the thickness of cauldrons.

In Stella's words, it's just a rehash of an old article, with slight changes to the wording and data. No one's actually going to read it anyway.

Stella wrote in her letter, "He's such a greenhorn, he didn't realize Crouch was trying to brush him off."

Slytherin faction officials were all waiting to see him make a fool of himself, to see when he would discover that the thickness of the cauldron didn't matter, and that even if his paper was as bad as if he'd been drinking counterfeit alcohol, it wouldn't make any difference.

Stella, of course, did not let go of this opportunity to win people over. Percy's ambitions were incompatible with the Weasley family, and he was a talent with the potential to be developed.

Unfortunately, his straightforwardness was too outstanding, and he ended up teaching Stella the opposite: that one should not cut corners in their work.

However, these were all jokes Stella made at work. Prarese did approve of Stella's principle of casting a wide net, and she cast her net on Stella, the political teacher, and Granger, her secret pen pal.

“You always have your reasons.” Draco still looked rather unhappy.

Praris patted him on the shoulder: "What are you worried about? Your father should have taught you how to deal with people worth winning over, right? You and I both know what it means to fish for someone, what it means to invest in someone, and what a true strategic ally is."

Draco was even more unhappy after hearing this.

Young boys' minds are truly difficult to understand. Unlike adults, they don't have mature desires that can be judged by common sense.

They're more like Milison's cats; you can never figure out why it's not eating. Maybe the weather's bad, maybe it's in a bad mood, maybe Millie's bad behavior, maybe the other roommates' bad behavior, or maybe there's no reason at all—it just doesn't want to eat and is throwing a tantrum.

Soon, Praris couldn't care less about Draco's little tantrums, because the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was about to begin.

Before class, the atmosphere among the Slytherins was somber, and everyone remained on high alert.

This is perfectly normal, given that many students here come from families with members who have been Death Eaters.

Not long after, the thumping sound of Moody's wooden prosthetic foot hitting the ground echoed outside the door. He entered the classroom, his eyes fixed on the Slytherin students, making one suspect that he might suddenly attack them at any moment.

"Ha—" Moody's voice was like a rough grinding wheel, "What are you doing bringing out these textbooks? Do you expect me to nag you like other teachers? There's no need!"

Chapter 73 SPEW

As soon as Moody finished speaking, he took out the attendance list and began calling roll. One of his normal eyes looked at the list, while his other, magical eye, swept across the face of each student who answered.

When Moody called Praris's name, Praris's first reaction was to lower his head nervously, as if afraid of being recognized by Moody. His second reaction was to respond.

This is a side effect of mastering the Occlumency technique; for the past few days, no one has been able to look her directly in the eye. She's even considering wearing non-prescription glasses to conceal the movement of her gaze.

“Alright!” Moody said after taking attendance. “I’ve already taken Gryffindor’s courses, so I won’t ask about your progress. Now, I’m going to teach you how to deal with spells.”

His gaze lingered on some of the Slytherin students, then he let out a strange laugh: "I know, this is probably unnecessary. I'm sure most of you here have seen illegal dark magic spells—at your parents' expense. Isn't that right, Malfoy!"

Draco, startled by being called out, instinctively looked at Praris.

"Hehehe, some people are terrified and are seeking refuge with their female classmates. Miss Prince, why don't you look back?"

Prarese lowered her head silently, knowing that this was not the time to cause trouble for Professor Snape.

"Alright, let's get back to the point. Unfortunately, although most of the wizards sitting here might become targets of Aurors after leaving Hogwarts, I still have to give you a fair education, assuming you will be attacked by dark magic rather than using dark magic to attack others. Miss Burstdle, do you have any objections?"

Millison withdrew his disgruntled gaze and said indignantly, "No, Professor."

“Ha, Burst, Burst, of course I remember! Dolores Burst, right? Very memorable, she caused us Aurors so much trouble! Yes, what a pity—she should have gone in and reunited with her husband sooner!”

Everyone understood Moody's unspoken meaning: he regretted not putting Mrs. Burstow in jail, and even more so that she was alive and well.

In fact, it was only a hair's breadth away, but in the end, it was Mr. Burst who was put on trial. Unlike the resolute Sirius, Mr. Burst had already committed suicide before Millison even enrolled, unable to endure the torment of the Dementors.

If you call him cowardly, he dared to take the blame for Mrs. Burst; if you call him brave, he lacked the courage to live.

Millison suddenly stopped being angry; she realized that Moody was right.

She will always remember her father's suicide note: "Lola, I'm sorry, I can't bear it... I can't bear living in a nightmare without you."

The person who was most accustomed to giving love was killed by his own love, while his lover was still pursuing the very thing that had led her into the abyss.

This wasn't because Millison thought her father was any better. She hated her father just as much as she hated her mother.

If Millison were an observer, she would admire Mr. Burst's devotion, but alas, she was the daughter tormented by Dolores for so long. How ironic! How great and devoted his love was! Even to the point of being unwilling to share a single bit of love with his daughter.

Loving parents are all alike, but irresponsible parents are all uniquely rotten.

"Then—let me test your knowledge of dark magic. Which spells will incur the highest level of punishment under wizarding law?"

"No one's answering?" Moody's expression was terribly grim. "That can't be right—Nott, Theodore Nott, tell me!"

Theodore, Crabbe, and Draco knew each other before they started school, because his father, Old Nott, was one of the earliest followers of the Mystic.

Although Nott was a loner, Draco got along surprisingly well with him, perhaps because they were both purebloods, and Nott was much smarter than Crabbe.

Nott maintained his reluctance to say more, and listlessly said, "The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, the Killing Curse."

"Ah, yes. Your father must have taught you a lot about this, so you could work for the mysterious man like him! Oh, I almost forgot, he was controlled by the Imperius Curse, wasn't he?"

He picked up a glass bottle from the podium; inside were two large black spiders. Moody grabbed one, pointed it at him with his wand, and said, "Out of body!"

Under his manipulation, the spider behaved in all sorts of illogical ways, performing for everyone like a circus animal.

The Slytherins couldn't help but laugh.

Moody roared, “Funny, isn’t it? What if I had you under my wand instead of a spider? Still funny! Ah, look at me, I forgot again. Of course you’d find it funny, because you think you won’t be the spider, but the one casting the spell on it, right?”

The Slytherins fell silent almost instantly.

This class was incredibly difficult.

The exclusion of Slytherins is nothing new, but no professor has ever openly displayed such prejudice.

Moody tore down this paper wall, defining all the students sitting in the audience as Death Eater prospective members, even though not all Slytherin parents were Death Eaters.

Take Prarese's roommates, for example: Pansy's family, the Parkinsons, are neutral; Daphne's family, the Greengrass, only care about profit; only Millison's mother, Mrs. Burst, is a true Death Eater.

But Moody didn't care about all that. He would taunt the Slytherins almost after each spell, giving them a taste of what it was like for Gryffindor to face Professor Snape.

However, comparing Moody to Professor Snape is unfair to Professor Snape. Moody was more scathing than Professor Snape, since Professor Snape usually lectured people based on the facts and rarely involved their families.

Finally, get out of class ended, and the Slytherins poured out of the classroom like a swarm of herring.

Everyone looked very grim, but not a single person uttered a word of criticism against Moody.

This was within Praris's expectations.

What can you criticize Moody's for? His bias?

Wouldn't that be tantamount to publicly severing ties with the mysterious figure? With some of his classmates' parents being fanatical Death Eaters, this would be tantamount to courting death and would also bring trouble to his family.

Praris silently reached out and hugged Milison, who was much stronger than her, and said, "I'm here."

Milison turned around, reached out and hugged Praris back, presenting a petite, or rather, a majestic embrace: "I'm fine."

Draco stood behind the two of them, gave them a deep look, and let out a disdainful sneer.

Praliss certainly heard Draco's voice, but she didn't have time to pay attention to him right now. She knew without even thinking what he would say, probably something like, "Fragile, thy name is woman—".

He may have mocked him, but when Moody scared him in class, didn't he still go to her first? Milison was right, Banaba shouldn't laugh at a troll.

Praris only has two hands, which are not enough to comfort two vulnerable people.

Back in the common room, Prarese began to open the letters she had received.

Granger sent her a letter, but Praris was in a rush to class in the morning and didn't open it immediately.

The envelope was bulging. Prarese cut it open with a letter opener, and a green badge fell out that read "SPEW".

In her letter, Granger said that she had discovered the oppression suffered by house-elves and was determined to liberate them.

This is a badge she made for the "House-Elf Rights Promotion Association," inviting Prarese to join her advocacy organization.

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