HP North Star's Radiance

After careful consideration, Pansy realized that it was a bit rough and looked more like a design from Milison.

Pansy puffed out her chest and said confidently, "But my plan is really feasible because Pray doesn't like Blake that much."

"She told you that?" Draco stared intently at Pansy.

Pansy shook her head: "No, I felt it."

Draco gave a dismissive smile: "Oh, the feeling—"

“You’re underestimating a girl’s intuition and her understanding of her best friend!” Pansy said, displeased. “Why won’t you admit to her that you love her?”

Draco muttered to himself, "Who said I love her? I just like her a little bit."

Pansy sighed; getting Draco to admit he "liked" someone was already incredibly difficult. According to Theodore, without the arrival of the Blachy assassins, Draco's mouth was harder than diamond.

Today, Pansy needs to see Draco, but Crabbe and Goyle, who are always by his side, know nothing about Draco's whereabouts. This startles Pansy, who knows about Draco's relationship status.

Theodore reminded her, "That guy took his violin with him when he went out."

And so, Pansy found the sound of the violin and its owner in the clock tower. The violin music was melancholic and heavy, as if telling of its owner's sorrow.

After a period of one-sided talk from Pansy, Draco had to admit that he was annoyed by Praris and Miles's dating situation.

Pansy mercilessly mocked Draco: "Keep being stubborn! Keep being stubborn until Prarese becomes Blaise's girlfriend, then you can turn your utterly useless pride into a mournful violin piece!"

Once, as a secret admirer, Pansy wholeheartedly protected Draco. Forever, as a Slytherin, Pansy will also join Draco in mocking Gryffindor and setting fires together.

But at this moment, as his childhood friend who was watching him throw a tantrum, Pansy just wanted to slap him awake and make him take a good look at what he was really thinking and what he really wanted!

“Draco, whether it’s fair or not, you’re way more handsome than Blaitch, and you’ve known each other for ages. How can you let him surpass you? Are you even a Slytherin anymore!” Pansy said arrogantly. “Anyway, Pray isn’t Blaitch’s girlfriend yet. Are you going to make your move or not? If you don’t, I’ll look down on you!”

Draco rested his chin on his hand and said coldly, "She likes Blake, and she sent him flowers."

“It’s just a flower. Haven’t you received enough gifts from Pray?” Pansy raised her glass and softened her tone. “Draco, I’ve been in love before, and I’ve truly loved someone. I know exactly what it feels like to be moved.”

"In my eyes, both you and Blaise are impulsive when it comes to relationships. His approach is one of unbridled passion, while yours is one of unwillingness to acknowledge it. But Praris—the way Praris looks at Blaise is more like the way he looks at you, that broken, singing conch shell!"

“That’s a conch shell that can hear whatever it wants to hear!” Draco corrected her.

Pansy waved her hand: "Does it matter? Who cares what kind of conch it is! More than being in a relationship, she's being tolerant of Blaise, experiencing something new, and pondering an unsolved mystery. A piece of advice from a good friend, Draco: when pursuing someone you like, you have to be as aggressive as when you're chasing the Golden Snitch!"

Father, like son.

Pansy was conflicted. She knew Prarese didn't want to accept Draco's feelings, but it wasn't because Prarese didn't like him, but because she knew it was a fruitless journey.

Following Prader's usual logic, if she didn't like Draco, she would never have considered such a distant question as whether they could ultimately be together. The fact that she was carefully considering the future of a relationship precisely shows that Prader had feelings for Draco, or at least had feelings for him.

Pansy also knew that Draco liked Praris.

He's never been intensely fond of love or hate, like a handcrafted metal quill pen—ornate yet fragile, easily broken if dropped.

So people had no choice but to put it in a glass case.

So everything looks like it's looking through a layer of glass.

Draco's most exciting moment was probably when he stole the Golden Snitch—and that was even related to Praris.

Because he gets everything so easily, he cares about Potter, who makes him look bad. But even though he cares about Potter, he almost never seriously plans how to frame Potter, and always acts on impulse, which often results in Potter retaliating against him instead.

Aside from the time he used the magic ball, Pansy knew that Praris had just taught him a lesson.

See? All his changes are related to Praris, so how could he not like her? It's just that he's separated by a protective glass and doesn't know how to stop what's happening outside the glass.

On the other side, Miles suddenly stood up and looked curiously in the direction of the hunting grounds: "What's that?"

Five young men drove up to the edge of the forbidden forest and stopped their cars, each with a huge cage towed behind it. The cages were covered with black cloth, not a single gap was visible.

Praris blinked: "It's the first event of the Triwizard Tournament."

Miles exclaimed in amazement, "I can't believe how lucky we are to see the first item before the competition even starts, uh—the cage, hahaha."

"It's a fire dragon."

Prarese said calmly, as if she were saying, "I'm having bread for breakfast today."

"Huh? How did you figure that out?" Miles asked in surprise.

Praris pointed to the men: “Dragon trainers. They have burn marks that have been healed, and the cages are the approximate size of the dragons. Most importantly, that red-haired man is Charlie Weasley. I saw a picture of his family winning the lottery in the newspaper. Charlie Weasley is a dragon trainer.”

"Oh, you're amazing!" Miles exclaimed boastfully. "What do you mean by burn marks? You can figure out the hidden truth just by looking at this little bit?"

Chapter 84 Mistletoe's Answer

Miles said sheepishly, "I just read the newspaper and that's it. To be precise, I don't actually read newspapers much, hehehe."

Praris nodded. "Yes, it's easy to spot. The scars from burns, scalds, and other injuries are all different."

Miles quickly stood up and spun around in front of Praris: "So what do you think I can see?"

Prarese found Miles rather adorable: "Hmm, I can tell—you had soda bread for breakfast."

"How did you know that?" Miles asked in astonishment. "I really did eat soda bread!"

Praris finally couldn't help but laugh: "Because you're Irish! Of all the breakfasts served today, only the soda bread is Irish."

"Hey, is it that simple?" Miles said, still wanting more. "I thought there would be more complex reasoning!"

Praris shrugged: "When you don't know the principles behind some magic, you find it incredibly amazing. But once you master it, even the most amazing magic seems ordinary to others."

She has said this more than once, but unfortunately, some people always think that her talent is a divine gift beyond ordinary people, and that she is a playwright with a script in hand.

In fact, she considers herself just an ordinary person, one of the millions of powerless ordinary people in the world, and she is always more helpless than confident.

Otherwise, she would have uncovered all of Moody's secrets by now.

Praris had a class in half an hour, so they headed toward the castle.

Miles watched Praris's retreating figure, a jumble of confused thoughts swirling within him.

Pry is so smart, does she even know what she's thinking?

Miles realized he knew nothing about Pray. He knew she was smart, but he didn't know she was this smart; he knew she was powerful, but he didn't know she was this powerful.

He pursued the girl with passion before he truly understood her, which made him hesitant once he got closer to her.

He couldn't help but ask himself: Miles, you are interested in her because of her strength and like her because of her charm, but do you really deserve her?

Miles once thought that perhaps it was his determination and persistence that moved her and made her willing to give him a chance.

Given this, does this genius know the little tricks she used in her pursuit? Does she know she ever doubted her own thoughts? Does she know the inner turmoil she's currently experiencing?

Miles had never felt such complicated emotions before. He wasn't lying to Pray; he genuinely felt like he was in love for the first time.

He thought his life was like being a Quidditch goalkeeper, reacting to every move and hitting back when the Quaffle came.

But he is not in the skies above the Quidditch pitch, nor is he the goalkeeper.

Love pulled him down from heaven to earth, turning him into a clumsy, inexperienced young man in matters of the heart.

"To kitty,

I know what Porter is going to face, and I trust you can handle this well, so I won't give you any extra advice.

But some things have nothing to do with what level-clearing techniques you use.

If Potter feels nervous, he should inhale for three to five seconds, hold his breath for six or seven seconds, and then exhale for eight or nine seconds. He should repeat this several times until he can calm down.

I will also send Diggory a similar anonymous letter. Of course, it will only be to tell him how not to be nervous.

You know, I'm a fair observer.

Victory belongs to Hogwarts.

The day before the first round of the Triwizard Tournament, Hermione had already opened the letter for the fourth time. Prader's method of relieving tension hadn't even been used on Harry yet, but it had already been used on her.

Hermione reached out to stop Harry: "Harry, listen to me. Your anxiety is seriously affecting your progress in learning summoning spells. What you should be doing now is not rushing to try spells, but calming yourself down and casting spells with your mind instead of your hands!"

Hermione thought optimistically, "Great! Harry's already nervous, so this is a good opportunity for them to practice how to calm him down."

Prarees's idea in writing these two letters was simple: since there were no Slytherin contestants, the competition would be a contest between Hogwarts and other schools.

Praris thought rather domineeringly that it didn't matter whether Potter or Diggory won, as long as the winner was Hogwarts.

Draco was even more domineering than Prares; he seemed to have taken the wrong medication.

Prareas fiddled with the box on her desk and couldn't help but ask Pansy, "What's wrong with him?"

This all started on the night she learned what the first project was.

Without a word, Draco suddenly handed her a beautiful box containing a magical pocket watch.

This is a pocket watch that can remember feelings. When the owner of the pocket watch is reluctant to part with some precious feelings, he can press the pocket watch to remember them.

When you want to recall that feeling but can't recreate it, turn the hands of the pocket watch and press the button to relive that moment.

The pocket watch has only four numbers: "3, 6, 9, 12", which can record four different emotions.

If you no longer want to recall that feeling, then place the hands on that number and press the button on the pocket watch twice.

“Christmas isn’t here yet,” Praris had to remind him.

Draco looked uncomfortable, but stubbornly retorted, "Isn't it obvious? There's no Christmas tree at school!"

Praris pushed the box toward him: "So?"

She wanted to ignore it, but she couldn't.

She really wanted to ask Pansy if the girl was punching her from behind.

But she held back.

Draco suddenly said with a straight face, "You can keep it!"

After saying that, he turned and left...left...left?

Pansy let out a loud "Sigh" behind her.

From that day on, Draco would occasionally force-feed her some strange little magical gadgets.

Praris couldn't help but ask him, "Am I your warehouse?"

"Here you go," Draco said with a sour face. "If you don't want it, just throw it away!"

These were all made or repaired by Draco himself. Each gift, like that magical pocket watch, had taken a lot of his time and had been in his hands for a long time.

When Praris picked up these things, he could almost feel Draco's warmth and clearly perceive the marks Draco had left on them.