The Rebirth of Harry Potter

"Meow..."

A white shadow suddenly leaped onto the wooden table. Little Cutie wandered back and forth through the pile of food, occasionally lowering its head to sniff around, letting out adorable little meows.

"You just ate, and now you're already looking for another meal?" Harry said helplessly, reaching out to pick up Little Cutie when suddenly...

"Wow, so cute!" Hermione, with lightning speed, snatched Little Cutie into her arms, pressing its fluffy body against her face, rubbing against it with pure delight.

"Whose cat is this? It's adorable." Hermione gave Harry a suspicious look. "It can't be yours, can it?"

"Haha, you're really smart."

Hermione's expression turned a little sour, seemingly jealous, then she rummaged through the pile of snacks on the table, finding something suitable for the cat, and happily began feeding Little Cutie.

As she played with the kitten on her lap while nibbling on her own snacks, Hermione's face suddenly changed. She hurriedly sifted through the snack pile as if looking for something, but when she couldn't find it, she slowly realized what had happened. She lifted her gaze toward Harry, looking at him and the five-pointed star-shaped pastry in his hand.

She wanted to say something but ultimately held back. Then, without a word, she casually picked up another piece of bread and took a bite, turning to look out the train window. Her ears had turned completely red.

"Were you about to say something?" Harry asked curiously.

"No," Hermione replied without turning her head.

"Oh, I thought you were going to ask about the piece of bread that had a bite taken out of it," Harry said, pretending to be serious.

Cough, cough! Hermione choked on her food.

Harry continued digging his own grave. "Just now, I picked up a piece of bread, and strangely, a small bite was missing. It was all soft and warm, as if someone had—"

"Go to hell!" Hermione finally snapped at Harry's shameless teasing, grabbing a bag of snacks and hurling it straight at his face, silencing him.

Her cheeks were as red as a monkey's, and her eyes shimmered with moisture—whether from anger or embarrassment was unclear.

Then, she forcefully swung the door open, stormed out, and slammed it shut behind her with a loud bang!

"...Uh, my cat..." Harry mumbled.

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Malfoy sat in his seat, his face full of anger.

"Why didn't you two rush in and beat him up just now?" Malfoy glared at his two lackeys.

"...He's too tall. We wouldn't stand a chance," said Lackey A.

Malfoy got even angrier. "You two are pigs! You eat so much and still can't do anything useful!"

Lackey B muttered under his breath, "Well... I was born in the Year of the Pig..."

This time, Malfoy laughed in frustration. He wanted to curse at them, but he didn't even know where to start.

"I will definitely get my revenge. If he ends up in Slytherin... hehe..." Malfoy fantasized about a future where his daily joy revolved around bullying Harry. A sinister grin spread across his face.

Just then, the door suddenly slid open, and a voice Malfoy would never forget echoed through the compartment.

"Little Brat, thinking about something fun? Come on, share it with us so we can all have a laugh."

It was as if a roaring fire had been instantly extinguished by a cold bucket of water.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy's face twisted, a trace of fear flashing in his eyes. "He's not here to beat me up, is he?"

"We're about to be classmates, so of course, I'm here to strengthen our friendship," Harry said with a bright smile, looking completely harmless.

Malfoy wanted to say, "You're not welcome here, go make friends somewhere else," but he knew it wouldn't make a difference.

Besides, for some reason, whenever he faced Harry, he always felt restricted, like how he felt when dealing with his father.

"I'd like to have a word with your boss in private," Harry said, looking at Malfoy's two sidekicks. "You two, step outside for a moment."

"It's not happening! What if you bully our boss?" Lackey A declared with fierce loyalty.

Malfoy lowered his head, feeling an overwhelming sense of grievance. These are my subordinates? Amazing... Damn it, can't you at least say something useful for once?

"Even if you two stay, do you think you could stop me if I decided to bully your boss?" Harry asked.

"Uh… probably not." Lackey B thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

"I want to die..." Malfoy felt utterly hopeless.

"Then why are you still here? Do you think you hold the same status as Malfoy?" Harry asked sternly.

"I came here for your boss, but if you're speaking on his behalf, aren't you afraid Little Brat here will make your lives miserable?"

With that, Lackey A and Lackey B scrambled to get out of the compartment, pushing past each other in a hurry.

For a brief moment, Malfoy actually felt grateful to Harry. At least now I truly understand just how remarkable their intelligence is...

"Little Brat—"

"I'm NOT called Little Brat! My name is Malfoy!" Malfoy roared.

"Oh, I thought you actually liked it," Harry said, looking a bit helpless.

"Like hell I do!"

"So, what do you want?" Malfoy asked directly.

"Well, you see, I'm in need of a subordinate, and I'd like to give you this golden opportunity. No need to thank me." Harry spoke as if he were doing Malfoy the greatest favor in the world.

"I… Are you insane? My father… I'm a Malfoy! A member of a great pure-blood family!" Malfoy had originally wanted to say my father but immediately recalled Harry's earlier words and quickly corrected himself.

"Exactly, that's why you're qualified. Not just anyone would have this chance," Harry said seriously, making himself even more insufferable.

Malfoy was at a loss for words. He had never encountered someone with such ridiculous confidence before.

"Do you even know who I am?" Harry asked.

Malfoy suddenly realized something—he didn't even know the name of the person he had just been plotting revenge against. That was a massive failure on his part.

"I'm Harry Potter. Surely that's enough of a title to be your boss?" Harry said.

Malfoy was genuinely stunned. He knew that name all too well—not just from books, but from the way his father would grit his teeth whenever he mentioned it. And it was never in a positive light.

"What does that have to do with me?" Malfoy composed himself and retorted.

"Then let me ask you—do you want to be my boss?" Harry suddenly changed the topic.

"Wouldn't you love it if I had to serve you tea, follow your orders without question, do your homework, run errands for you… Doesn't that sound tempting?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with temptation.

At that moment, he looked almost identical to Orochimaru.

And sure enough, it worked like a charm. Malfoy's excitement showed on his face before he could hide it. He had been thoroughly swayed.

"Ahem… What are you getting at?" Malfoy tried to act indifferent.

"Let's make a bet," Harry finally revealed his true intention.

"A bet?" Malfoy asked, confused.

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Author's Note (Lobei): Not many people truly dislike Malfoy, because he was never really evil. In his first two encounters with Harry—once in Diagon Alley and once on the train—Malfoy was the one who initiated contact. In the movie, their second meeting was on the staircase at Hogwarts, where Malfoy explicitly offered his friendship. However, his arrogance turned Harry off, and their rivalry was sealed.

Draco Malfoy is simply a boy who loves to show off, is overly concerned with his image, competitive, and a little arrogant and self-important.

In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Draco played a much more significant role. Voldemort ordered him to assassinate Dumbledore, but in the end, he couldn't go through with it. This wasn't due to a lack of ability—it showed that he wasn't as evil as many, including Harry, had believed. Other moments also confirmed this, such as when he was found crying in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, worried about his family.

Dumbledore's words about Draco are quite fitting:

"That boy's soul is not yet so damaged."

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

That's why I think making them friends is a great idea.