The Gryffindor first-years had their Defense Against the Dark Arts class scheduled for the afternoon of the third day after the start of term.
Just two days in, and Gilderoy Lockhart's theatrical teaching style was already the talk of the school among some students.
Debates were heating up about whether Professor Lockhart actually had any real skills.
After last year's dreadful lessons, the older students couldn't believe there could possibly be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher worse than Professor Quirrell.
But the reality was stark.
Aside from his knack for poetry and over-the-top acting, the miserable Hogwarts students couldn't learn a single thing in Lockhart's classes—useful or otherwise.
Quirrell, at least, had taught some theoretical knowledge.
Lockhart?
Was he teaching them to write love poems to charm their future crushes?
No matter how much the older students grumbled, the first-years, still enchanted by the wonders of the magical world, held onto their illusions about Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.
And then, those illusions shattered.
Endless recitations of excerpts from Lockhart's books felt like a literature appreciation class.
Randomly picking students to act out dramatic scenes from his works gave the vibe of a Muggle drama school.
The homework? Writing odes to Lockhart, as if they'd joined a poetry club.
In short, Lockhart's classes resembled anything but Defense Against the Dark Arts.
The moment the bell rang, the students practically vanished from the classroom in a flash.
But Leon seized the moment, stepping in front of Lockhart.
"Oh, Mr. Green, isn't it? What's on your mind?"
Lockhart flashed his dazzling, pearly white grin, as if he were under contract to advertise the world's most expensive toothpaste, constantly showing off his gleaming smile.
Before speaking, Leon casually raised his hand, revealing a gleaming gold watch on his wrist and five massive gemstone rings on his fingers.
Lockhart's eyes were immediately glued to the bling.
Then it clicked for him—this was the rich kid who'd treated the entire Gryffindor table to drinks at the Start-of-Term Feast.
Lockhart's demeanor instantly warmed.
"Leon, my boy, is it? Want my autograph? No problem at all! I can give you my full set of signed postcards—limited edition, mind you!" he said, winking in an overly slick manner.
Leon fought the urge to punch those blindingly bright teeth or deliver a couple of jabs to stop Lockhart's twitching eyes.
But that'd hurt his hand.
Never mind—if this plan worked, someone else would take care of it for him.
"Thank you, Professor Lockhart. I've heard you've got your own haircare brand," Leon said, glancing at Lockhart's impossibly smooth, shiny golden locks, which looked like they'd been plucked straight out of a shampoo advert.
"I was wondering if you'd be interested in taking on a big order, sir?"
"Of course!"
Lockhart didn't hesitate for a second.
Realizing he might've sounded too eager, he added with feigned restraint, "If the price is right, I'd be happy to do business with one of my students."
Leon adopted a polished, businesslike tone.
"Very well, sir. Let's be clear—friendships are friendships, but business is business.
"Don't worry about the price; I'll offer you a deal you'll be thrilled with.
"But if your product doesn't meet my standards, the order size might… well, you know."
Leon left the rest unsaid, but the implication was clear: if Lockhart's haircare products were top-notch, he'd place a massive order. If not, the deal was off.
Lockhart, brimming with confidence, tossed his shimmering golden hair.
"Leon, you can trust me. I created this brand because I found every haircare product on the market lacking.
"I poured time and money into developing this affordable, high-quality haircare line.
"Look at my hair—this shine, this smoothness, this volume, this strength!
"It's all thanks to years of using my own product!"
Yeah, right.
Leon wasn't born yesterday.
That glossy, silky effect on Lockhart's hair? Clearly the work of the Potter family's secret hair-smoothing potion.
His so-called "self-developed" haircare brand? More like a scam to fleece his fans.
His adoring followers, blinded by their admiration, would buy anything he sold without questioning its actual effectiveness.
Leon laid it on thick with exaggerated flattery:
"Oh, come now, Professor Lockhart, using yourself as an example isn't fair.
"How can you compare to regular people? You're naturally gorgeous!
"Your hair would probably look just as stunning even if you only ever washed it with plain water and never used a single haircare product!"
Lockhart was practically glowing with delight, his ego soaring to the heavens. His grin widened, showing a hint of his gums.
"Haha, you flatter me, you flatter me! It's not that dramatic!
"Without my products, it'd still be… well, a little less perfect. Haha…"
Seeing Lockhart grinning like a fool, Leon seized the moment to pivot.
"Sir, I get it—everyone's different, and haircare products work differently for everyone.
"It's hard to judge a product's quality with a universal, fair standard.
"But I've got a small suggestion.
"Professor Lockhart, if you could find someone with naturally terrible hair, who never bothers with maintenance, and use their hair as a test case for your product over time, the results would be incredibly convincing."
It was practically a neon sign.
Leon was sure even someone as dense as Lockhart would think of a certain person who perfectly fit that description.
Sure enough, Lockhart's expression turned thoughtful, though he seemed hesitant, clearly intimidated by someone.
Leon pressed on.
"Professor Lockhart, you're new here, so you might not know.
"At Hogwarts, the real scoop gets passed down among students for years.
"For example, there's this one professor who's been teaching here forever and, rumor has it, hasn't washed their hair since the day they were born…"
Smack!
Leon slapped his thigh hard, startling Lockhart.
"It's like chocolate landing in a house-elf's soup—too perfect!
"This person is exactly the test subject you need!"
Leon locked eyes with Lockhart, channeling a touch of persuasive charm he'd picked up from Gellert Grindelwald.
"I know you respect the senior professors and wouldn't want to bother them.
"But that one? Total softie under that tough exterior—Hogwarts' biggest helper!
"All you need to do, sir, is publicly ask for their help in front of the whole school.
"They'll jump at the chance to assist you!"
Lockhart's eyes lit up, clearly tempted. He double-checked, "Really?"
Leon knew he had him hooked.
With a flick of his wrist, he flashed a shiny gold Galleon between his fingers.
"Truer than this Galleon, sir!"
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