The Rebirth of Harry Potter

Harry was in a great mood—especially at the thought of tonight's Christmas feast, with its promise of a rich, luxurious dinner.

Then he saw Peeves, the squat little poltergeist, and his face instantly darkened.

Dumping an entire trash can on someone? Disgust filled Harry's eyes.

He marched forward, ready to stop him.

But then his steps halted abruptly as he caught sight of the unaware figure walking ahead.

It was… Cho Chang.

Harry's expression turned ice-cold. He stared at Peeves as if the poltergeist were already dead.

He began thinking of the best way to punish him.

Raising his hand, he began to gather pure light.

Peeves was just about to tip the bin, already picturing the girl shrieking and crying in a garbage-soaked mess.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of terrifying magic surge behind him. He turned—and his entire world was swallowed by blinding light. For the first time, he truly felt death looming.

His grotesque face twisted in panic. He shrieked, "No—!"

He tried to flee—but there was nowhere to run.

No resistance. No chance.

Like snow beneath the blazing sun—

He vanished.

Gone, without a trace.

Just like that. Effortless.

Cho turned around, startled. "Harry?"

Harry nodded slightly.

He hadn't expected it to be so easy to kill Peeves. But dead was dead. He felt no guilt for wiping out something that had only ever ruined people's moods.

"Where'd you go this afternoon?" Cho asked curiously. "And just now… I thought I heard Peeves scream, but now he's just… gone?"

"I went to Draco's place," Harry said casually. "And somehow, I ended up with a little sister. Peeves? Maybe he saw me and ran."

Cho scrunched her cute nose. "I don't believe that. The only one who can scare that annoying little gremlin is the Bloody Baron."

Harry smiled faintly and said nothing more.

"But wait—you got a little sister? What do you mean?" Cho's eyes lit up.

Harry suddenly remembered—Cho had once said she really wanted an adorable younger sister.

Back then, he'd joked that she just wanted a pet.

"Well, here's what happened…" Seeing how interested she was, Harry smiled and told her the whole story.

They talked as they walked, Cho's expressions constantly shifting—shock, disbelief, envy, jealousy, indignation…

She was basically a walking emoji pack.

With how pretty she was, her face could become a meme sensation overnight.

"Nia really wants friends," Harry added. "Once she comes to Hogwarts, she might want a big sister like you."

Cho could only hope things would go just like Harry said.

They pushed open the doors to the Great Hall—

—and were immediately dazzled by a burst of color.

The Hall was lively and magnificent.

Twelve enormous Christmas trees, decorated days ago, stood tall and proud. Golden streamers fluttered through the air. Tiny bells chimed with crisp, pleasant notes. Miniature angels flew in circles, singing sweet carols.

Balloons in every color drifted under the enchanted ceiling, making the whole hall look like a dream.

And then the fireworks—dazzling and brilliant.

But these weren't Muggle fireworks—they were magical.

They didn't sparkle with sparks but with pure magic.

Wizarding fireworks erupted into surreal colors and fantastical patterns, each one more dreamlike than the last.

As much as the visuals amazed him, it was the smell that truly pulled Harry in.

He couldn't help but take a deep breath. His sharp senses picked out several of his favorite dishes lingering in the air.

This was the first real Christmas feast of his life.

Back on Privet Drive, his so-called family never let him go to anyone's parties. They'd just dress up their meatloaf and parade it around like royalty.

But those memories… felt far away now.

…

Harry walked to the long tables, his eyes gleaming at the mountain of mouthwatering food:

A hundred plump roasted turkeys

Hills of roast meats and boiled potatoes

Platters of juicy sausages

Bowls of buttery peas

Dishes of rich, thick gravy and tart cranberry sauce

...

Every few feet, he found a pile of wizard crackers waiting to be pulled.

Feeling mischievous, Harry picked one up. With a bang loud as a cannon, a cloud of blue smoke burst around him and Cho—and a white admiral's hat flew out and landed squarely on her head.

Cho picked it up, saw it was a hat, and went to set it on the table.

"Don't take it off," Harry said with a grin. "You look great in it."

"Well, alright then." Cho smiled and left it on, then started checking out all the different fireworks and magical toys inside the crackers.

Harry picked up a delicious-smelling roast beef steak, set it on his plate, and was about to dig in—

Then he paused, looked up at Cho, and smiled.

"Happy Year of the Monkey."

Cho blinked, caught off guard. Then she smiled and said:

"But it's still five days until the new year."

Harry shrugged. "Who cares? It's the biggest Western holiday of the year. I just wanted to send you some Eastern-style blessings."

"Thanks," she said warmly.

Harry dug into his food, glancing toward the staff table. The professors were laughing freely, their usual stern faces replaced by rare expressions of joy.

It was a strange but pleasant sight.

…

One small thing did happen during the feast.

"Achoo…" Harry rubbed his nose. His head… felt a bit off…

"Harry, are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" Cho asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Harry said, brushing it off.

But Cho wasn't satisfied. "If you're getting a cold, you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

Seeing her serious gaze, Harry smiled gently. "I'm really okay. It's winter—who doesn't cough once or twice? Don't worry."

Seeing that Harry seemed fine otherwise, Cho finally relaxed.

And so the feast continued until the end, when the two of them said goodbye.

"Good night."

"Good night."

…

That night, even wrapped in several layers of blankets, Harry still felt freezing.

He curled up as tightly as he could.

Did Hagrid forget to close the door?

He tried to get up to shut it, but his head felt like a mountain was pressing down on him.

He could barely breathe, his mind fuzzy.

And so, struggling to stay conscious, he lay there until morning.

"Harry! Harry…" A panicked voice called in his ear—distant and near all at once.

It echoed endlessly in his skull, making him nauseous.

Harry wanted to tell them to shut up—but he couldn't even open his eyes.

His head… was splitting.

His body felt like it was floating.

And then… the voice disappeared.

…

Harry had come down with a fever.

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⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter

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