The Rebirth of Harry Potter

It wasn't just Malfoy who had this weird feeling—the entire class felt it too.

It wasn't until after class that they finally realized what was wrong.

Professor Snape hadn't spoken a single word to Harry all day!

That was unheard of.

Normally, Snape always found a reason to call on Harry in class. Even if Harry answered perfectly, Snape wouldn't let him sit down right away. Instead, he would pause for a moment, then sneer and say:

"Mr. Potter, how long do you plan on standing there?"

At first, students found this ridiculously petty, wondering just how much Snape must hate Harry. But over time, they just got used to it.

And even when Snape didn't question Harry, his name still came up frequently—mostly in comparisons.

For example:

"Miss Granger! If you had noticed that you were sitting next to the great Harry Potter, you wouldn't have made the mistake of adding 0.5 extra ounces of Bullhead Powder!"

"Neville, you idiot! If you had even one-ten-thousandth of the intelligence of the famous Harry Potter, you wouldn't have mistaken Questar Herb for Black Star Wood when extracting potion essence!"

Any time someone made a mistake, you could be certain that Snape would bring up "the famous Harry Potter".

If this were any other class, it would have sounded like praise.

But in Potions, it was pure mockery.

Yet today, Snape had completely ignored Harry—not mentioning his name even once.

That unnatural silence was exactly what made everyone feel uneasy.

Outside the Dungeon

As Hermione and Harry walked out of the cold, gloomy dungeons with the rest of the students, Hermione turned to him and said,

"Don't you think Professor Snape was acting a bit strange today?"

Harry shrugged. "What's so strange about it? Just because he didn't make my life miserable today?"

"…When you put it that way, I guess you're right," Hermione admitted. "Looks like we've all gotten used to Snape being like that."

But Harry had a suspicion.

Snape was probably thinking about Lily again today…

"Hermione, don't you think Snape treats me differently? It's like he really hates me," Harry said.

"That's ridiculous." Hermione frowned. "You're imagining it."

"But Ron, Seamus, and even Neville have all told me they think Snape treats me far worse than anyone else."

"Well… I think there must be a reason for it."

Hermione thought for a moment before speaking seriously.

"I don't know why, but you have to understand—Dumbledore would never let a professor stay at Hogwarts if they could harm a student!"

She suddenly noticed Harry staring at her.

"…Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"

Harry wasn't asking because he hated Snape.

He was asking because, in the original timeline, Ron had also believed that Snape was up to no good.

But when he had this conversation with Hermione, she had firmly told him that Snape would never harm him.

She had stated one simple but piercing truth:

"Dumbledore would never allow a professor like that to stay at Hogwarts."

Hermione had seen through everything long before most people did.

It took six years for many fans to finally realize the truth and scream:

"I WAS BLIND THIS WHOLE TIME!!"

Yet even after that, Harry remained firm in his belief.

Even when Snape wasn't trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone…

Even when Snape wasn't the one cursing his broom…

Even when Snape protected him from a transformed Lupin…

Even when Snape risked his life over and over again…

The misunderstanding remained.

Until the moment Snape lay dying…

Until those final words that shattered hearts:

"Look at me…"

He wasn't really looking at Harry.

He was looking at those gentle green eyes—the same ones as his beloved's.

Harry thought of that man who had fallen into darkness and felt momentarily dazed.

Then, with a playful grin, he said, "Oh, there's a stain on your face. Could it be squid ink?"

Hermione gasped, her face flushing red, and immediately lowered her head, rubbing the spot Harry had pointed at with all her might.

"Is it gone?" she asked, looking up at Harry, her face still pink from embarrassment. She had rubbed so hard that the area had turned bright red.

Harry felt a bit bad for teasing her. "Nope. Here, let me help you."

Hermione hesitated for a second, then softly hummed in agreement, tilting her head up and exposing the smooth curve of her neck.

Harry observed her quietly—her long hair draping over her shoulders, her delicate brows, her small, upturned nose, and her slightly parted lips, rosy against her pale skin.

Feeling awkward, Hermione muttered, "Hurry up, will you?"

Gulp.

Overcome with shyness and nervousness, Hermione swallowed unconsciously.

Harry smirked slightly and let his slender fingers gently graze her cheek.

"That tickles! Just clean it up already!" Hermione protested, her voice hurried.

She felt restless, though she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe because she was completely unguarded right now—a realization that made her slightly regret agreeing to this.

But since she had already allowed it, backing out now would seem a little rude.

Now, she felt like she was stuck between two choices, wanting to find an excuse to refuse Harry's help.

"Alright, alright," Harry said casually.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing against her bare neck, making her instinctively tense up.

Hermione's eyes snapped shut, her small hands gripping the books she held against her chest as if they could provide some kind of protection.

Harry lowered his head slightly—and kissed the spot he had just wiped.

Soft. Warm.

He suddenly didn't want to pull away.

I wonder if I bite it, will I taste something sweet?

Hermione's heart pounded uncontrollably, her head feeling dizzy and light.

She didn't need a mirror to know just how red her face must be right now.

"Hermione, you can open your eyes now."

Harry's mischievous voice echoed by her ear.

Hermione's eyes snapped open, only to see Harry staring at her with an infuriating grin.

"You—!" Hermione felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration, but somewhere deep inside, a tiny bit of happiness lingered as well.

Harry took her hand, his expression completely innocent.

"But I worked so hard to help clean your face. Shouldn't you at least thank me?"

Even though Hermione's emotions were a mess, she still felt speechless at his words.

She wiped her cheek again—it still felt a little damp from where he had kissed her.

Yet, that tingling sensation refused to fade away.

"Come on, let's head to Professor Sprout's greenhouse. I wonder how those fungi we planted two days ago are growing," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand as he pulled her along the corridor toward the back of the castle.

Hermione let herself be dragged along, her body following him instinctively.

She really wanted to argue with him—but no matter what, she just couldn't hide the smile creeping onto her lips.

Luo Bei's Notes: Snape

Because of his desperate love for Harry's mother,

He endured humiliation for years,

Protecting the child of the person he loved most and the person he hated most.

In the end, he even gave up his own life.

Even in his final moments, he begged Harry:

"Look at me."

All he wanted…

Was to see Lily's eyes one last time.

I don't particularly like Harry,

Because Snape once said he was just like his father—

Arrogant, proud, attention-seeking, unwilling to trust others, and never listening to advice.

And Snape was absolutely right.

Harry misunderstood Snape countless times.

He had no idea how much Snape had sacrificed for him.

The moment that stuck with me the most was Sirius Black's death.

Harry refused to listen to Hermione, insisting that he was right.

Because of that, the entire Order of the Phoenix was forced to go into action,

And in the end, Sirius died because of it.