The Rebirth of Harry Potter

Standing in the snow, Harry gazed at the vast white world around him. A wave of melancholy swept over him as he murmured dramatically:

"Softly I depart, just as softly I came, I wave my sleeve…"

Squeeeak~

He continued, reciting under his breath:

"And summon the Knight Bus…"

(Someone smack this pretentious git.)

Harry stepped onto the Knight Bus—a mode of transport used exclusively by witches and wizards—paid eleven silver Sickles, and said:

"To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Right-o!" the conductor chirped, sounding like a cheerful pub server.

Harry picked a window seat and closed his eyes to rest.

The conductor gave him a curious glance. After all, passengers on the Knight Bus were usually adults—young students were a rare sight. And judging by his robes, this boy was from Hogwarts.

So why wasn't he taking the Hogwarts Express?

The thought passed quickly; the conductor had seen far stranger things on this bus and let it go.

This was Harry's first time riding the Knight Bus. The speed was absolutely insane—practically flying.

In just an hour, they arrived.

"Sir, we've reached Hogwarts," the conductor yelled by Harry's ear.

Harry opened his eyes. On either side of the road stood towering trees, branches weighed down with snow. The blizzard made visibility barely ten meters. The treetops, blanketed in thick snow, looked like soldiers in white steel helmets.

This was the final stop of the Hogwarts Express line.

Not far off was the tiny, snow-covered platform.

Harry stepped off the bus and made a firm decision:

"I swear, I'm never taking the Knight Bus again."

Sure, it was fast—but precisely because of that, passengers kept hopping on and off constantly.

The doors seemed to never stop opening and closing.

That alone would've been tolerable.

But—Merlin's beard—was he certain someone hadn't cast a hundred Sonorus charms on the door?!

That wasn't a door creaking—that was a damn grenade going off every time.

"Welcome to the 'Ears Will Get Pregnant and Then Miscarry' audio experience…"

Heh…

Harry suddenly understood why the conductor always shouted. Working in such a high-stress, high-volume environment probably did something to your brain. Poor bloke.

"Come again soon!" the conductor said cheerfully through the window.

"I bought a watch last year," Harry replied cryptically with a smile, as if he were genuinely satisfied with the ride.

Just before the bus vanished into thin air, he caught a glimpse of the conductor's confused expression.

That little act of petty mischief cheered Harry up significantly.

…

…

Harry staggered toward the snow-buried magical castle, swaying as he sang melodramatically:

"The umpteenth snow of 1992 came later than usual,

The bus that stopped at Hogwarts carried away my warmest wishes…

La la la la la la la…"

Eventually, he ran out of lyrics and just kept humming. He muttered to himself:

"Tsk, not bad. I didn't know I had such a knack for this. If life in the wizarding world goes south, maybe I can become a pop idol in the Muggle world…"

…

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Harry made a beeline for the Gryffindor common room.

The room glowed warmly. The fireplace roared with flames, and a group of students sat around it in a circle—it looked like all the Gryffindors staying over the break had gathered here tonight.

Harry barged into the circle, wedged himself into a gap, dragged an armchair over, and plopped down without saying a word. He stretched out his hands toward the fire, as if trying to shove them directly into the flames.

"Who are you?" someone grumbled after being shoved aside.

Harry was covered in snow from head to toe. His hair and eyebrows were frosted white—it was no wonder nobody recognized him at first glance.

"You're Potter?" someone finally asked hesitantly.

Harry gave a reluctant nod and continued warming himself.

Once they realized it was Harry Potter, everyone went silent. The student who had complained even looked secretly thrilled.

This is Harry Potter. And I'm sitting right next to him!

Harry shot him a sidelong glance and mentally classified him:

Sycophant.

But just warming his hands wasn't enough. Without a word, Harry flicked his wand. A thick quilt soared down and wrapped around him tightly. Still unsatisfied, he cast his strongest warming spell:

"Lightbringer Supreme—Warmth of Love and Boundless Compassion."

Which was basically his best effort at gathering radiant Light magic.

In an instant—

The entire room lit up like it had been filled with a hundred incandescent bulbs. It was as bright as day.

It worked.

Harry could feel warmth spreading through his body. The frost in his hair and eyebrows began to melt. It felt heavenly.

As others stared in awe, murmuring guesses about what spell he'd just used—

A sixth-year student suddenly trembled, his eyes wide in shock.

He was the only one who noticed:

Harry hadn't said a word when summoning that quilt.

That… that was a nonverbal spell!

He nearly cried out in disbelief.

Nonverbal magic wasn't even introduced until sixth year!

And yet Harry had used it effortlessly…

He looked at the boy warming himself by the fire, eyes closed in peace, and felt only reverence.

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⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter

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