The Great Hall on the first day of school was slightly livelier than usual, but since the Hogwarts Express hadn't arrived yet, it still seemed rather empty.
Setting down the basket of pixies he'd been carrying and instructing them on the key points and benefits of serving as decorations, Evans watched them fly off happily in all directions. With Alice and Nana perched on his shoulders, he walked toward Professor McGonagall, who was arranging the Great Hall.
He had originally wanted to bring Little Cloak along too, since it hadn't seen its masters George and Fred for quite a while. But after consuming Snape's potion, it had been dizzy and confused for the past few days, barely able to float and only managing to crawl on the ground.
Perhaps not wanting to show such an embarrassing state in front of its masters, it had firmly refused to let Evans bring it along, instead burying itself in bed to quietly digest the potion.
However, the potion's effects seemed quite good. Although Little Cloak hadn't described it in detail, he could sense that the little creature's magical power was growing rapidly, at least several times faster than when it used to eat those magic-fed worms.
Unfortunately, this potion seemed quite expensive. Judging from the pained expression on the big bat's face when he returned Little Cloak, he had probably used some of his most precious materials.
But digesting it for several days without finishing... surely there wouldn't be any side effects?
There shouldn't be. The big bat was a Potions Master. He wouldn't carelessly brew potions without being certain.
...Right?
"Evans? Did you bring the pixies?"
Seeing Evans walking over, Professor McGonagall asked while enlarging the coloured lights and decorations in the Great Hall.
"Already arranged. They'll serve as proper decorations until the feast ends."
"Good. The other arrangements are almost complete." With that, Professor McGonagall hurried off to discuss the specific dinner arrangements with the house-elves.
Finding himself with nothing else to do, Evans headed to the staff table.
At the staff table, a rather flashy-looking man was chatting animatedly with Professor Flitwick, pulling him into conversation. From Professor Flitwick's expression, he didn't seem to be enjoying the chat much.
But looking more carefully at the flashy man's appearance, Evans's eyes suddenly lit up.
"Is that Gilderoy Lockhart?"
Hearing someone call his name, the flashy man turned around. Looking at Evans, he paused in recollection, seeming to remember something.
"You're Evans Kahn? I've seen you in the papers!" Lockhart's face showed a confident smile. "Rita's newspaper always loves to exaggerate facts, doesn't it?"
"Actually, I think she wrote quite accurately." Evans shrugged indifferently.
"Quite accurately? You really like to joke." Lockhart's expression seemed to flicker with a trace of unnaturalness, but he quickly adjusted. "Recognizing me so quickly... don't tell me you're also one of my fans?"
With that, he showed his confident expression again.
"Haha, it seems my achievements really can't be hidden. Even a recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, is my fan."
"But please don't pay too much attention to the medal's rank. If I wanted to, I could obtain a Second Class or even First Class Order of Merlin at any time."
"I just have to leave some opportunities for others, don't I?"
Hearing that long string of self-aggrandising boasts, Evans was stunned, then explained somewhat awkwardly. "I wouldn't call myself a fan, but I'm very interested in your experiences."
With that, he pulled out a quill and notebook from his pocket and asked softly:
"Regarding banshees, this type of dark creature... could you describe them in detail?"
Although called banshees, banshees and female ghosts were completely different types of beings. They were very rare, usually hiding in graveyards or deep mountain swamps, ready to ambush any wizards who passed by.
He had always wanted to see these legendary creatures, but unfortunately, he seemed to have no affinity with banshees. Despite living so long, he had never encountered a single one.
Now that he had finally found a wizard who had witnessed banshees, he couldn't miss this opportunity to enquire.
"Banshees? You mean my book 'Break with a Banshee'?" Lockhart showed a brilliant smile.
"You've asked the right person!"
Then Evans heard a whole lot of self-aggrandising boasts, including but not limited to how much that banshee had worshipped him and how coldly decisive he had been, thinking only of the people.
After waiting about several minutes, Evans really couldn't stand those boasts devoid of any substance and called a halt to Lockhart's narration.
"Alright, Mr. Lockhart, I think I understand now."
He knew he wouldn't get any information about banshees from this man.
"What about yetis? What do you know about them?"
This was also a creature he had never encountered during his travels. If he couldn't get any banshee-related intelligence, learning about yetis wouldn't be bad either.
However, after another few minutes, Evans finally understood why Professor Flitwick's expression had looked so pained earlier.
The man before him could reveal nothing useful except boasting about his honours and glorious achievements. By now, he hadn't even clearly described what a yeti looked like.
A trace of boredom flashed in Evans's eyes as he put away his notebook.
So after hiring Voldemort's servant, Dumbledore had found a teacher who liked to show off everywhere for Defence Against the Dark Arts?
Would the young wizards' Defence Against the Dark Arts classes this semester be spent listening to his boasting?
What a waste of Ms. Tina's dedicated half-semester of teaching.
Somewhat helplessly pursing his lips and seeing Snape in the distance looking at him with a mocking smile, Evans found an excuse to stop Lockhart's narration and got up to sit beside his dear Head of House.
"How was it? Getting close to him must have yielded quite a lot of 'useful' intelligence, right?" Snape mocked.
Evans helplessly shrugged and didn't refute, since the goosebumps he'd gotten earlier still hadn't completely subsided.
"What kind of person has Dumbledore found this time to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
How did he feel that from when he started school until now, he had basically never seen many normal Defence Against the Dark Arts professors?
Hearing Evans's question, Snape glanced at Lockhart, who had grabbed Professor Flitwick again and begun recounting his glorious achievements, and showed that mocking expression again.
"Actually, this time his intentions were good."
"This Mr. Lockhart's resume is indeed impressive. Whether it's his Order of Merlin or those achievements, all are sufficient to qualify for this position."
"It's just that when he first came to the school, I asked him a few potion questions mentioned in his books and discovered something was wrong."
"He went on at length for several minutes, yet there wasn't a trace of useful information."
Snape's expression didn't look good, as if he was remembering some very unpleasant experience.
"This person either is deliberately hiding his abilities or has no real capability at all."
With that, Snape leaned back and said in a mocking tone:
"I lean toward the latter."