The Rebirth of Harry Potter

That week,

Harry had prepared a truly special gift for Neville.

While the other professors would help boost Neville's confidence,

This particular gift

Would shake his very soul.

And that gift was none other than…

Severus Snape.

Think about it—

Who was the one person

That had never given Neville a single kind word?

Who was the one person

That had called him an idiot every chance he got?

Who was the one person

That Neville feared the most?

Besides that demonic Potions Master,

Who else could it be?

Snape's Office – The Dungeon

The dungeon was dark and cold.

This was Professor Snape's domain.

Dressed in his signature black robes,

He seemed to melt into the shadows,

His piercing gaze radiating coldness,

His thin lips curling into a sneer of contempt.

His pale face, his icy stare,

All screamed one thing—

I despise you, Potter.

But what made him even angrier

Was the fact that the boy standing in front of him

Seemed completely blind.

Can't you see that I hate you?

Can't you tell that I am openly targeting you?

Why are you still standing there… smiling at me?

Snape took a deep breath,

Trying to calm his irritation.

His voice was filled with disdain—

"The great Harry Potter…"

"What do you want?"

Harry smiled pleasantly—

"I'd like to ask for a favor, Professor."

Snape mocked him—

"Oh, how honored I must be…"

"Did you expect me to say that?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Potter—"

"I am not that fool Flitwick."

"Now get out."

"Every second you remain here suffocates me."

If this were the Harry from the original story,

He'd probably be in tears by now.

But Harry simply stood there,

Completely unfazed,

As if he hadn't heard a word.

Snape finally lost patience.

"If you're going to waste my time—"

"At least have a decent excuse!"

Harry smirked victoriously.

As expected…

"I want you to award House points to Neville during Potions class."

Snape stared at him.

Then he laughed,

A cold, merciless laugh.

"Neville? Longbottom?

"You expect me to give him points?"

"Do you have any idea how many cauldrons he's exploded in my class?!"

Even Harry,

With his thick skin,

Felt his face turn slightly red.

After all,

Snape wasn't wrong.

(Harry: "Oi, author! Who are you calling thick-skinned?!")

("You better explain yourself! Dinner's on me, don't run away!")

Harry forced a laugh—

"Which is precisely why I need your help, Professor!"

"And besides—"

"You haven't given me a single point since the start of the year."

"How about we… transfer those points to Neville instead?"

Snape's face twitched in the darkness.

Or at least, Harry thought it did…

Snape shut his eyes,

Refusing to answer.

Outside the Dungeon

As Harry exited,

He found Hermione waiting for him.

She crossed her arms,

Gazing at him sternly—

"Why would you even go to Professor Snape?!"

"Even if every other professor agreed to your request, Snape never would!"

"You should just be thankful he didn't give you detention for breathing in his presence!"

She wasn't wrong.

Two Days Earlier – The Library Entrance

Blushing slightly,

Hermione handed Harry a book.

Harry tilted his head.

"What's this?"

Trying to act casual,

Hermione shrugged—

"Since you suddenly decided to join the Quidditch team,"

"I figured you probably don't know much about it."

"This book has a lot of useful information."

"I finished reading it recently, so I thought it might help you."

Harry flipped it over.

Quidditch Through the Ages.

The cover depicted a wizard soaring through the air on a broomstick.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Harry gently ruffled her hair.

What Harry didn't know was…

The real story.

Hermione had overheard some girls in her dorm chatting about Quidditch.

That's how she learned about this book.

She had spent over an hour searching through the vast library,

Just to find it for him.

But Hermione would never tell him that.

She didn't need his gratitude.

Back in the Present

Even though Harry didn't know those details,

That didn't change how he felt about Hermione.

Their gazes met,

An unspoken warmth passing between them.

It was a beautiful, poetic moment.

But Merlin once said something very wise—

"Life is unpredictable…"

"And tragedy strikes when you least expect it."