HP North Star's Radiance

But Praris chose to be himself.

Miles wasn't the type to let himself get bogged down in internal conflict; if he had an idea, he would ask.

Prader wasn't wearing her hair up today; the autumn wind whipped her black hair through the air. She asked Miles, "Did you ever wonder why your dates chose you? I thought you were very confident in yourself."

Miles scratched his head sheepishly: "But you're my date right now!"

Praris laughed. She had done something stupid, but she was unexpectedly happy.

"What did you say! You agreed to Miles's offer!" Pansy exclaimed in astonishment. "You like him a lot?"

"It's alright," Praris said casually. "It's not a promise, it's just a try."

Pansy said, puzzled, "You didn't like him that much, but you chose him anyway. This isn't like you!"

Prarese shrugged: "Nobody's smart all the time. Sometimes we do stupid things to comfort the stupid part of ourselves."

“I really don’t understand you.” Pansy leaned against Praris in distress. “I don’t understand Jacob either. He came to me, and I had already figured out how to reject him and get back together, but he didn’t mention getting back together at all. He just did some weird things.”

Praris hugged Pansy: "If you don't know what to do, just do what you want to do right now."

This is what she said to Pansy, and also what she said to herself.

Slytherin boys' lounge.

Miles walked down the hallway carrying a sunflower, and Derian Pursey peered at it curiously: "I thought it was something else! A flower, but he's making it look like a jewel!"

Miles held his hands together, giving him a disdainful glare: "What do you know! This is my gem!"

"Prince accepted you?" Warrington, standing next to Derian, exclaimed in surprise. "Wow, that's impressive! Tell me, how did you do it!"

Miles glared at him too: "No! But it's close. Why are you asking? Why are you asking! Why are you so concerned about other people's feelings!"

“We’re not just curious—when will you be wiped out by Prince’s humanitarianism? Hahaha!” Derian said pointedly.

Miles kicked him with his right leg: "Play! No! That kind of person!"

"Yo yo yo—Plai~ No~ that kind of~ person~ Hahahaha, run!"

Derian and Warrington ran off happily.

"Pooh!"

Miles turned around angrily and continued walking forward, only to meet Draco Malfoy's light-colored eyes.

Draco sneered, "I didn't expect her to have such poor taste."

"On the contrary, I think Pry has excellent taste!" Miles said with a bright smile. "My taste is excellent too."

The next day, the Slytherins poured out of the classroom like snakes emerging from their burrow.

Prarese walked among the crowd as usual, pondering her experiment, when Pansy nudged her with her elbow.

Following Pansy's gaze, Prarese saw Miles waving at her from the side of the stairs.

If the design of the Astronomical Tower is better suited for looking at the sky, then the windows of the Clock Tower are better suited for looking at the ground.

Draco stood behind the magic clock in the clock tower, and through the gaps in the gears, he saw two people practicing magic on the lawn in the distance.

Behind him was a magical violin, playing the first movement of Rachmaninoff's Second Symphony.

This was the second time he had felt resentful; the first time was when he lost to Saint Potter.

The two experiences were completely different. Last time, Praris was by his side, waking him up and offering advice. This time, however, he was all alone; the only one who could awaken his soul was himself.

Miles was as happy as a Slytherin who had won the Quidditch Championship; the joy of dating overwhelmed him.

Miles had many plans: he wanted to read with her, eat together, drink a butterbeer together, and see a sea of ​​flowers together—but unfortunately it was November, with only withered leaves and the approaching winter.

He longed for the day when the flowers would bloom to come soon, yet he also hoped not to miss Christmas. He wanted to spend the New Year with Pry, and he wanted to find a sprig of mistletoe and kiss her under it.

Prarese is a great date; she's a good listener.

Miles wanted nothing more than to tell her everything he had experienced over the past sixteen years, watching her blink and ask him, "Where is St. Anthony Cario?", "What is Edinburgh like?", "And Carlton Hill?"

Whenever Praris looked at him intently, he could see his own reflection in her dark eyes.

Miles thought to himself, "She only has eyes for me."

Prarese found dating Miles to be a very pleasant experience. Miles wouldn't speak to her in a sarcastic or sarcastic way, nor would he—stop.

When Prarese decides to give Miles a chance, she must hide the other person who keeps popping into her head, which is her most basic moral principle.

Miles has short brown hair, brown eyes, a high-bridged nose, and well-defined features. As a goalkeeper, he is exceptionally tall and physically imposing, standing next to Praris like Beauty and the Beast—a slightly more handsome Beast.

This last comment was made by Milison.

However, when they were in first and second grade, she didn't describe Miles that way. Back then, Miles had a rather "wronged" face. Although he was already a cheerful boy then, his appearance limited him.

Now, things have changed for the better. Miles has reached the prime of his life as a British man and has found the woman he truly loves.

Chapter 83 Anxiety and Loss

Apart from attending school, Praris has never left London.

The monastery, Diagon Alley, and Black Rose Alley are all in London.

Miles was different; he grew up in Edinburgh, Scotland. His village was a small settlement for wizards in Scotland, and Ernie McMillan of Hufflepuff was the Blaitch family's neighbor.

Living in groups is a way for wizards to protect their own community. Young wizards don't have good control over their magic, and sometimes sudden magical outbursts can occur.

“When I was a kid, I met a Muggle kid. We played house together, and I accidentally knocked her clay bowl away,” Miles said with lingering fear. “Luckily, her family didn’t believe her and thought she was talking nonsense.”

Praris continued waving her wand: "Were you scared then?"

“It’s not so bad,” Miles said with a laugh. “My cousin works at St. Mungo’s, and he lies to those Muggles, saying he’s a pediatrician. Then he acts all professional and tells them…”

Miles lowered his voice and imitated his cousin: "Ahem, I suggest you two take the child for a checkup. Young children who are not fully developed are prone to confusing their imagination with reality. If they often have such symptoms, it's best to intervene in advance."

“I really feel bad for that Muggle girl; she must feel so wronged.” Miles, grimacing as he was hit by Praris’s attack, said, “You’re really amazing…”

Prarese put away her wand and walked with Miles toward where the bag was.

While the students were chattering about the warriors, speculating about the first project, and gossiping about Porter, Prarese and Miles escaped from the commotion.

Prareas had imagined what it would be like for children to grow up in ordinary wizarding families, but her friends were all exceptions. Mrs. Burst was mentally unstable, Pansy didn't like to talk about family, Daphne and her sister were always bickering at home, and Draco was unconditionally spoiled.

Miles fulfilled her desire to understand normal wizarding families. The difference was that, despite both accidentally exposing themselves to Muggles, Miles's cousin calmly cleaned up his mess, leaving him with no psychological trauma and even something to talk about as a funny anecdote.

Miles took a box of jam cookies out of his backpack and handed it to Praris.

Praris took the cookie and casually remarked, "You seem to really enjoy giving me things to eat."

“You’re too thin.” Miles subconsciously squeezed Praris’s arm. “Besides, it’s only natural to bring ‘prey’ back to the family—my dad does the same when he comes home from get off work.”

Miles then took a handkerchief out of his backpack and handed it to Praris to wipe his hands. Praris ate his biscuit while Miles watched intently.

"What's so interesting?" Praris asked, puzzled. "Do you want some too?"

Miles nodded: "You look good."

Praris smiled helplessly.

Miss Winnie once wrote a sweet short love story about a reclusive witch in the forest and a hunter who meet, get to know each other, and fall in love.

During that time, Winnie was staying at home and too lazy to go out, so the capricious writer had a hunter deliver "goods" to her door, allowing the witch to enjoy sweet love without leaving home.

Winnie called it a "burglary-like romance."

Miles's appearance was like a robbery; he came in a rush without any preparation, freely expressing his passion and sparing no words of praise for her.

During this period, Praris almost let herself go, freely enjoying the feeling of loving and being loved. This unthinking, simple happiness brought her joy, but also made her inexplicably uneasy.

She was like an Inuit accustomed to the cold winter, suddenly thrown into the sunny and warm Mediterranean coast. This was the kind of weather she envied, yet she felt uncomfortable and got sunburned.

Miles said her acceptance was like a dream, but Prarese felt that Miles was more like an unexpected dream.

She knew it was a pleasant dream, and reason couldn't find any flaws in the other person, but alarm bells kept ringing in her head, making her doubt Miles's sincere feelings.

Miles nudged Praris, who responded with a puzzled sound.

Miles stammered, "Can...can I hold your hand?"

Praris blinked hesitantly.

Miles quickly added, "It's nothing, I was just saying."

“No, I mean, I have something in both hands.” Prarese gestured to Miles, holding a cookie box in one hand and a cookie in the other.

Miles felt like he was smoking, the flames of love had turned his brain into a soup, making it impossible for him to think before he spoke.

He tried to start a conversation, but once again blurted out without thinking, "I'm a little out of it right now. I feel... I feel like this is my first time being in a relationship."

Praris crunched on the cookie and said in a research-oriented tone, "Really? What does it feel like?"

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to compare you to anyone!” Miles quickly realized.

Praris nodded in understanding: "I know what you're trying to say."

Miles leaned gently against her and said cautiously, "Aren't you upset about what I just said?"

Praris shook his head: "You're telling the truth."

Miles suddenly felt his boiling blood cooling down.

A question inexplicably arose in his mind: did Pulei's "try" mean "to test" or "to allow him to go further"? Had his pursuit these past few days truly stirred even the slightest ripple in her heart?

Jealousy and love go hand in hand. *When a person begins to love, they begin to feel possessive and become intolerant of those around them having other thoughts.

Miles didn't want to compare Pray to others, but he couldn't help it. Unlike his previous dates, Pray was also very nice to him, even with an unconscious romanticism, but she didn't seem to have any possessiveness towards him.

Love is a sweet torment; it makes even the most confident and carefree person insecure and anxious.

On the other side, in a corner of the Slytherin common room.

Pansy rolled her eyes and whispered, "I really look down on you!"

Draco snorted, but lowered his voice: "You'd better not be hesitating about whether to get back together with your deadpan ex-boyfriend, otherwise you have no right to talk to me."

Pansy… Pansy said sullenly, “Let’s change the subject, Draco. Do we really have to expose each other’s weaknesses?”

“Oh—so you know this is exposing someone’s weaknesses.” Draco picked up the bottle and poured some for himself and Pansy.

“I’m giving you some advice! Say something nice!” Pansy said, striking a pose as if she were giving orders. “Since you like her, you should go up to her, kick that big oaf away, and confess to Pray. Then, Pray will accept your confession, and you’ll live happily ever after, over! Oh, and remember to let me be the godmother of your child.”

"Are you sure this plan isn't written for some kind of large magical creature?" Draco said sarcastically. "It sounds like it requires some kind of superhuman physique and a smooth, untrodden brain."