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Cassandra's smile abruptly faded.
Yet, in this shroud of darkness, Harry couldn't make out the shift in her expression.
His intuition, however, told him that Cassandra was far from pleased.
"So, your happiness came to a screeching halt the moment you saw me, is that it?"
Cassandra's voice was soft, but it carried enough weight to make her displeasure clear to Harry.
To be honest, Harry felt awkward—because, well, it was true.
Anyone would feel annoyed if, while enjoying a lively chat with a new friend, some haughty girl strutted in, demanding they become her lackey.
Looking back now, Harry might think Cassandra wasn't so bad, but back then? He'd definitely found her… hard to stomach.
"I was just a kid back then, Cassandra," Harry explained.
"It's your subconscious, Potter. No need to explain," Cassandra huffed.
Even in the darkness, Harry could picture her perfectly: arms crossed, chin tilted up, radiating superiority.
"Subconscious?" Harry asked, puzzled.
Before Cassandra could reply, a dizzying sensation swept over him, as if the world were spinning.
He found himself standing in a nighttime scene.
"Where is this?" Harry looked up at the sky.
The night was cloudless, with only a full moon hanging above.
All around, snow blanketed the ground. The distant forest was cloaked in white, its branches sagging under the weight, as though they might snap.
"Wait, this place…"
Cassandra's eyes flickered.
The Black Lake?
"Probably Hogwarts," Harry said, sitting down nearby, ready to glimpse Cassandra's happiest memory.
That year at Hogwarts—he remembered it well. It was his first year, and even the winter snow had been heavier than usual.
He'd never seen a snowfall quite like it.
"Why the Black Lake?" Cassandra tilted her head slightly, as if struggling to accept it.
No, it couldn't be…
Harry shrugged, offering no answer.
Soon enough, Cassandra spotted a first-year Harry trudging over, clutching a box.
"I remember now!" Harry stood, turning to Cassandra. "This was Christmas in our first year. You…"
"We set off fireworks together," Cassandra said, her gaze softening.
She wasn't looking at the grown Harry, but at the younger version of him, clutching that box.
She stepped closer to little Harry's side.
"This is so heavy—what is it, Miss Malfoy?" Little Harry looked up at Cassandra.
"Fireworks," Cassandra replied, just as she had back then. "A Muggle-born like you has probably never seen them, right? How pitiful… Lucky for you, you met me. You don't expect me to do the grunt work of setting them off, do you?"
"Yes, Miss Malfoy," Little Harry said obediently, setting the box down and standing stiffly to one side.
"Open the box. I'll show you how to set them off," Cassandra instructed.
Harry followed her directions, arranging a row of magical fireworks on the ground and igniting them with a spell.
In an instant, bursts of vibrant color exploded into the sky, blooming into countless cascades of silver and gold.
Stars fell like rain.
Little Harry had never seen anything like it. He cheered, leaping about, arms outstretched as if he could pluck the sparkling embers from the air.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Hearing Cassandra's voice, Little Harry froze, thinking she was upset.
After a moment, he stammered, "S-sorry, Miss Malfoy, I… My uncle never let me…"
"If you like them, I'll have my father send more," Cassandra said with a scoff. "Honestly, such a Muggle…"
Little Harry's eyes welled up.
"Thank you, thank you, Miss Malfoy!"
"Hmph…" Cassandra let out a faint hum. "Keep watching, then. The fireworks won't last forever, and I don't want you blubbering because you missed them, making it look like I bullied you."
Little Harry nodded eagerly, lifting his gaze back to the sky.
In Cassandra's eyes, those emerald-green orbs reflected the dazzling fireworks above.
It's perfect, she thought.
The most beautiful fireworks I've ever seen were the ones that winter night, mirrored in your eyes by the Black Lake.
Harry sat quietly to the side, watching the memory unfold.
He'd never imagined this would be Cassandra's happiest moment.
As the two of them were lost in the recollection, the fireworks in the sky vanished in an instant, and with them, Little Harry disappeared from Cassandra's sight.
"Potter!"
Cassandra called out instinctively, her voice tinged with a trace of panic that even Harry noticed.
"I'm right here," Harry replied.
Hearing his voice, Cassandra paused, then shot him a disdainful glance.
"What's going on?" Harry asked. "Why didn't we fall back into darkness after this memory ended? Why are we still…?"
He gestured toward the Forbidden Forest, then the Black Lake. "Like this."
"I don't know," Cassandra said, shaking her head.
"Let's keep moving, then," Harry suggested, standing up. "Look, maybe we should head to the castle. What if the key to waking you lies there?"
"Fine," Cassandra agreed with a nod.
They walked single file, Cassandra leading and Harry following, their footsteps crunching through the snow. As they moved, the wintry scene melted away, giving way to a sunlit summer.
But when they stepped into the castle, the scene shifted abruptly. They found themselves in a cramped, claustrophobic space.
Harry recognized it immediately—it was the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys'.
"Where is this?" Cassandra asked curiously, spotting a large spider crawling down from the floorboards.
Harry, however, swiftly pulled another spider from his pocket and tossed it aside.
"This is where I used to live," he told her. "You remember, don't you? I told you about the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys'—"
Of course, Cassandra remembered Harry mentioning it, but the cupboard…
Back then, even in her wildest imagination, she'd pictured something like the storage room at Malfoy Manor. She'd never dreamed it could be this small, a space so tiny she couldn't even stand upright.
So this… this is how it was…
Harry rummaged under his pillow, soon pulling out a letter.
"This is the letter I got back then," he said to Cassandra, opening it. The text read:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Phineas Black
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
On behalf of the entire faculty, I extend my warmest congratulations on your exceptional magical potential.
We eagerly await your arrival on September 1st, when the Hogwarts Express will be ready to transport you to our beloved school.
Enclosed, you will find a list of required supplies, essential books, and your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. Your parents or guardians are welcome to accompany you to Diagon Alley to purchase the necessary items.
Once again, congratulations on your acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We look forward to receiving your owl with your reply by no later than July 31st.
Deputy Headmistress,
Matilda Weasley
"I remember the last line," Harry said, waving the letter with a smile. "'Once again, congratulations on your acceptance to Hogwarts.' That was Headmaster Black's idea—Professor Weasley added it at his insistence. I heard it from Gareth. He said his aunt gave Black an earful about his arrogance at a family gathering."
The corners of Cassandra's lips twitched as she turned away.
"Let's open the door," Harry said.
They stepped out of the cupboard and found themselves in the Leaky Cauldron.
"This is how I ended up a hundred years in the past, Cassandra," Harry told her. "I don't know why it happened, but when I opened that door, I was here… I thought the letter was just a prank, you know. My cousin Dudley loved pulling tricks on me."
"Oh, I know," Cassandra said lightly. "That pig with the fake wig, right?"
"It's not nice to call him that, but I won't argue," Harry said with a chuckle. "Dudley was just telling me the other day that he's taking up boxing."
As he spoke, he answered a question from Tom, the innkeeper.
Moments later, Deputy Headmistress Weasley appeared in the Leaky Cauldron.
"Mr. Potter," she said, approaching him. "I'm the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Tom tells me you appeared here quite suddenly, is that right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied with a nod.
"Come with me, Mr. Potter," Professor Weasley said, leading him to a quiet corner of the pub.
"I'm not sure what's happened, but I suspect your letter might be a Portkey," she said. "May I see it, please?"
Harry pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to her. She examined it briefly before tucking it away.
"I understand the situation now," she said. "Tell me about your family—your address, for instance. If your family realizes you're missing, they'll be terribly worried."
"I'm sorry, Professor, but my parents passed away," Harry said quietly. "I live with my aunt and uncle now. They… probably won't worry about me."
After a bit more conversation, Professor Weasley said, "I've got the picture. Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, nodding. "But—where are we now…?"
"Listen carefully, Mr. Potter," Professor Weasley said softly. "Don't tell anyone about your situation—about anything from a hundred years in the future. Not even Headmaster Black. Understood?"
"I understand, Professor," Harry said, nodding quickly. Then, just as he had back then, he added, "But—I don't have any money, Professor. Do I need to pay tuition…?"
"Oh, no, child," Professor Weasley said, her gaze softening. "The school has provisions for cases like yours. You can apply for a scholarship. Come with me—I'll take you to Headmaster Black. His approval is needed for the application."
"Alright," Harry said obediently.
Professor Weasley stood and walked away, gradually fading from their view.
Soon, the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron vanished as well, leaving the memory scene empty.
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