Harry never imagined Hermione would show up like that. She ran straight at him and bit down on his arm. When she realized his clothes were t
Harry never imagined Hermione would show up like that.
She ran straight at him and bit down on his arm. When she realized his clothes were too thick, she yanked up his sleeve and bit into his bare skin—hard.
Muttering through gritted teeth, "I'll bite you to death. Bite… you… to death!"
She looked like a mad little beast.
And she wasn't pretending—she was biting with everything she had, like a baby using every last ounce of strength.
Harry didn't even need to look—he could feel the blood. The pain was very real.
But he didn't move. He didn't push her away.
That alone made Hermione pause.
Harry looked down at the ring of tiny teeth marks and the trail of spit on his arm. He said flatly,
"Didn't think you could bite harder than Fang."
Hermione froze—then exploded. "You're the dog!"
(Fang was Hagrid's small white dog.)
"Why did you send me that letter?" Hermione demanded.
Harry sat down in the nearest armchair. "How did you even get here?"
"I took the early morning Hogwarts Express," she snapped. "Now answer me."
Harry glanced at her. "Wipe your mouth first."
"What mouth—?" She wiped her lips and saw blood on her hand.
When she first read the letter, Hermione had been furious, heartbroken, panicked. But now, seeing what she'd done to Harry's arm, all she felt was guilt.
"You… you like someone named Cho, don't you?" she asked, still scrubbing her mouth, eyes wide with anger and pain.
"Yes," Harry admitted.
Even if there was nothing between them anymore, he had liked Cho. That was the truth.
His chest tightened. He never imagined Hermione would leave her house the moment she got the letter and rush to Hogwarts just to find him.
He hadn't realized how much she cared.
He had thought she'd just rip the letter to shreds, curse his name, and then give him the silent treatment once school resumed. That's how girls acted when they were angry, right?
Hermione had been waiting for him to say "no." When he didn't, she pointed at him and yelled,
"I hate you!"
And she ran off, crying.
…
At the library, Hermione was hiding in a corner, spying on a pretty teenage girl.
So that's her, Hermione thought, stunned. She really is beautiful…
She had asked around and finally learned where Cho Chang usually spent her time.
Of course she'd wanted to see what kind of girl Harry liked.
So… an Eastern girl.
Even though they came from different cultures, beauty was still beauty. Cho's silky black hair and sharp, clear eyes were stunning.
Hermione touched her own messy, bushy brown hair in frustration.
Suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
She jumped and screamed.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Then, with a wounded look, "You came to see her, didn't you?"
Harry now fully regretted writing that letter. If he hadn't, none of this would've happened.
"I came to find you," Harry said.
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Why? Did you suddenly realize I'm better than her?" she asked, blushing a little.
Harry rubbed his temples. Was this how much she cared? Or was she just being immature?
…
"Harry," Cho said as she approached. She'd been planning to leave, but the sight of the cute girl next to him made her change her mind.
Even she didn't know what she was doing.
"Hey, Cho," Harry said, expression neutral.
Hermione watched the scene unfold. She wasn't stupid. This was definitely not how a couple would act.
Ah… I get it now, Hermione thought, enlightened. Harry likes her—but she doesn't like him back.
Smirking, Hermione gently clung to Harry's arm and said sweetly,
"Hi, I'm Hermione. I'm Harry's girlfriend."
Cho's eyes dimmed. She smiled politely.
"Is that so?"
Harry could feel Hermione tightening her grip on his arm—just like her nervous heart. But he couldn't bring himself to deny it.
He opened his mouth, paused, and finally muttered,
"…Yeah."
Cho turned and walked away in silence.
Harry had said it partly to save Hermione from embarrassment—and partly to get back at Cho.
But seeing her reaction, he immediately regretted it.
"Let's go," he said, pulling his arm away.
"Go where?" Hermione asked, her heart suddenly sinking.
"I'm taking you home. Your parents don't know you came back to Hogwarts, do they?"
"I'm not going back." Hermione had seen the look in Cho's eyes—she definitely had feelings for Harry. Hermione wasn't about to let that go—not now that she had just claimed to be his girlfriend.
Harry didn't say a word, but his eyes made it clear what he wanted.
"…Fine, I'll go."
"Good."
Hermione's gaze shifted, and she quickly caught up to Harry, slipping her hand into his.
He didn't hold back, nor did he shake her off.
Hermione felt smug.
Those Eastern girls… they don't know how to be bold. I'll win him back.
Suddenly, Harry felt a chill on the back of his neck.
Was that creep Quirrell spying on him again?
He tensed and stayed alert. Hermione clung tighter, and the two walked out of the castle together.
On the train, she never let go of his hand.
Even on the bus, they sat side by side by the window in silence.
Hermione stared out at the passing scenery. Harry watched her profile.
She looked calm—but she'd forgotten her hand was still in his. Her anxious grip said it all.
By the end, Harry still didn't know what to say.
…
By the time they returned to school, it was already past ten at night.
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⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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