The little girl shook her head in protest and shook off Harry's hand.
She carefully smoothed her neatly arranged golden hair with her small hands.
"I spent an hour styling it this morning!"
"You're just too cute—I couldn't help myself," Harry said with a smile, impressed that someone so young already understood the importance of grooming as a form of self-expression.
Hearing him call her cute, Astoria smiled brightly.
Then, with excitement lighting up her eyes, she asked eagerly,
"You're the one who defeated the Dark Lord, right? Harry Potter?"
"Well… unless someone else is claiming that title, I suppose that's me," Harry replied modestly.
Yes, yes, shower me with praise now!
Sure enough, her eyes sparkled with admiration.
"That's amazing!" she gasped.
She didn't really understand why it was amazing—she just knew it was. With her limited vocabulary, it was the only way she could express her admiration.
"I didn't expect you to be… so handsome," Astoria added innocently.
Harry nearly choked.
He'd been expecting more praise about his heroic deeds—but for someone as young and sincere as Nia, the world was divided into "pretty" or "not," "liked" or "not liked."
"Your name is Astoria, right?" Harry asked gently.
"Yup! I have a big sister named Daphne. But I don't think she likes me very much.
There are only two of us, and my mum really wanted a boy.
I heard that when I was born and she found out I was a girl, she actually cried…"
She prattled on with the ease of someone who had held back too much for too long.
Harry winced awkwardly.
The way she was talking, it was as if he were conducting a family interview.
Did she not notice her parents' expressions had gone stiff?
…
The moment Harry heard her name, he'd felt it was familiar. When she mentioned her sister, Daphne, it all clicked.
"Your name comes from Asteria, the daughter of the moon goddess in Greek mythology, doesn't it?" Harry asked, cutting in gently before she revealed any more personal family information—like, say, her Gringotts vault number.
"You knew that?!" Astoria lit up with joy, as though a wish had just come true. Her gaze toward Harry became even more affectionate.
"I wasn't sure at first," Harry said, "but after I heard your sister's name, I realized it—both of your names come from Greek mythology."
Astoria's smile faltered slightly.
"Then how come no one I know ever realizes that?"
She remembered vividly how happy she'd been when she first learned the origin of her name. She wanted everyone to know. But none of her peers had understood the significance.
Harry glanced at her parents.
Greek mythology was a Muggle subject. No wonder most pure-blood children wouldn't recognize it.
But he didn't say that aloud.
Instead, he smiled and said,
"How would those dummies ever understand how noble the name Astoria really is?"
Astoria giggled, revealing her adorable dimples.
"You're right—they're all dummies!"
…
Astoria had never chatted this openly with anyone before.
Her parents loved her dearly, but they were strict.
During family gatherings, she had to act like the perfect little hostess—greeting guests with grace and saying all the right things.
No unnecessary conversation.
When she attended banquets, she had to watch every move, every word—to maintain her ladylike image.
Astoria didn't hate these expectations, but they left little space for being herself.
Her older sister, Daphne, didn't like her much either.
Some other pure-blood kids had tried to befriend her before, but they always acted stuck-up and boastful.
Today, meeting Harry… she felt truly happy.
…
Harry quietly swallowed—his throat was parched.
And yet the little girl kept chatting away, happier than ever.
Merlin help me, she's a chatterbox at this age?
How many words had she kept bottled up inside?
Harry wanted to cry, but he kept smiling.
His cheeks were starting to cramp.
Ugh… I'm getting old. I can't keep up anymore…
…
Conversations like this often made people open up.
Especially someone like Astoria, who rarely had anyone to talk to freely.
Suddenly, she stopped, glanced at Harry shyly, and hesitated.
Harry blinked.
Why is she looking at me like that?
She looked up. Then down. Then back up again.
Finally, in a tiny voice, she asked:
"Can… can you call me Nia?"
This wasn't like her formal self-introduction earlier.
This was something personal.
Harry's heart skipped a beat.
Even "Astoria" was already a name only close acquaintances were allowed to use. To most, she was "Miss Greengrass."
But "Nia"? That was a pet name.
Likely only her parents and sister used it.
Or… maybe… her future husband?
Astoria's father, reclining on the sofa, raised an eyebrow—but said nothing.
Harry's throat went dry again—he couldn't tell if it was nerves or emotion.
"Nia?" he echoed softly.
"Mm…" she nodded shyly.
"Can I… call you… big brother?"
Astoria's father finally couldn't hold back:
"Ahem!" he coughed sharply.
And just then…
.
.
.
⚡ The Rebirth of Harry Potter
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