Early morning. After waking up, Harry called a house-elf and asked for breakfast. He hadn't eaten at all the day before, and now he was star
Early morning.
After waking up, Harry called a house-elf and asked for breakfast.
He hadn't eaten at all the day before, and now he was starving.
The elf nodded obediently and soon returned.
It was carrying three silver trays.
When Harry lifted the lids, he found toast with fruit jam and beef paste, a freshly pan-fried piece of lean meat brushed with golden honey, and—thoughtfully—a bowl of light pumpkin porridge, perfect for his recovering body.
As he ate, Harry thought to himself, Being in the hospital wing is kind of nice. It gives me the perfect excuse to be lazy.
Even if he just lay around doing nothing, it didn't feel like a waste of youth. After all, I'm sick, right?
But before long, Harry would come to realize just how wrong he was.
Madam Pomfrey entered. Seeing Harry awake didn't surprise her—she had full confidence in her medical skills.
"You need to take your medicine," she said.
"Alright," Harry replied.
Taking medicine was part of being sick. He wasn't a little kid afraid of potions anymore.
Madam Pomfrey brought over a bowl. "Drink up."
Harry took the bowl. The black potion inside reflected his frowning face.
Just the bitter smell made him wince—he could already tell how awful it would taste. It reminded him of Chinese herbal medicine.
It's just a potion. What's there to be afraid of? he told himself.
He imagined it was a bowl of overly sweet honey, closed his eyes, and downed it in one gulp.
Then immediately gagged.
It was disgusting.
"What is this stuff?" he asked, setting the bowl on the table, face scrunched tight.
Madam Pomfrey laughed at the sight of his misery. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to know what's in it."
Harry instantly dropped the subject.
Pomfrey, looking a bit disappointed, said, "Really? You don't want to know?"
She loved seeing patients' reactions after revealing what was in that potion.
"I really don't," Harry said firmly.
"Suit yourself."
"Madam, when can I be discharged?" Harry asked.
Pomfrey scowled. "Do you have any idea how serious your condition was yesterday? And you're already asking to leave?"
"I'm not saying today! I was just wondering. Of course, the sooner the better. This place doesn't exactly smell pleasant."
"Stay for at least three full days. I need to be sure you've fully recovered before I let you go."
"Oh, so I can leave tomorrow night?"
Her eyes widened. "Today is only your first day!"
"…Got it," Harry muttered, shrinking back a bit.
She's the healer. She wins.
Just as she was leaving, Pomfrey turned around and said, "Oh, and by the way—you'll be drinking three bowls of that potion every day."
Harry's jaw dropped.
…
Not long after, Cho arrived.
Dressed in black, her fair skin looked like polished jade.
She sat down on a chair, placed a thick volume of A History of Medieval Wizards on her lap, and began reading quietly.
The soft rustling of pages filled the room.
"Cho, want to play a round of wizard's chess?" Harry asked.
Cho didn't look up. She finally glanced at him and smiled softly. "Not today. I want to finish this book. I'm really interested in the two major magical wars from the Middle Ages."
"…Alright then."
…
The entire morning passed like that: Cho reading silently, Harry alternating between staring at the ceiling and watching her read.
Eventually, Cho closed the book and said, "I'm going to grab lunch."
"Okay…"
…
Around 2 p.m., Cho returned.
As usual, she brought another book and was quickly absorbed in it.
Harry had thought about striking up a conversation, but seeing her so immersed, he gave up.
He kept watching her. And after a long afternoon of silence, he finally realized the source of the strange, familiar feeling he'd been having.
She was no longer the Cho who used to laugh and talk freely with him.
She had become the Cho from the first time they met.
But perhaps… this was her true self all along.
She was like water—calm, placid, and all-embracing.
Gentle and composed with everyone, warm but never too close. Friendly yet distant.
She could smile at anyone, but no one could cross that invisible boundary—regardless of gender.
Maybe there had once been an exception.
But now… she had returned to who she always was.
The way she treated Harry now was the same as how she treated any classmate who greeted her in the hallway.
Like a caring older sister, someone who would help anyone who needed her. But just like a swallow skimming the surface of water—she left only the faintest ripple, then disappeared.
Harry didn't know why… but deep inside, he knew—
They would never go back to the way they were.
His heart ached, like something was stuck in his chest.
So this is what heartbreak feels like...
After two lifetimes, this was the first time Harry had ever experienced a broken heart.
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⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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