"Out of the way!"
A short, bad-tempered man holding a big black camera barked at Ron.
"It's for the Daily Prophet!"
He hopped back and forth, snapping pictures from every angle. Each time the blinding flash went off, a puff of purple smoke hissed from the camera.
"Brilliant," Ron muttered, rubbing the foot the man had just trodden on.
Sean didn't bother looking at Lockhart. He grabbed the full set of books and headed toward the till, and on his way out of the crowd, he ran into Justin.
"Looks like our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is… not exactly reliable," Justin said, frowning.
Sean followed his gaze. Behind the signing table, Lockhart had somehow dragged Harry up beside him and was declaiming at full volume:
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart boomed, raising a hand for silence, "what an extraordinary moment this is! I must take this perfect opportunity to announce a little secret I've been keeping for some time."
He gave Harry a theatrical shake so hard his glasses slid down his nose.
"This young man, Harry, came into Flourish and Blotts today simply intending to buy a copy of my autobiography—one I am more than happy to present to him free of charge—"
A wave of applause rolled through the shop.
"—but what he doesn't know," Lockhart continued, "is that he will soon be getting something far more valuable than my modest little Magical Me. In fact, he and his classmates will be getting the real, living, spell-casting me."
He paused for effect, then beamed.
"That's right, ladies and gentlemen—it gives me great pleasure and pride to announce that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd roared.
"And of course, there's one more important piece of news," he went on, teeth glittering.
"I shall track down and personally tutor the mysterious 'Hermes' in Defense Against the Dark Arts—so that his achievements in dark-arts defense may surpass even his accomplishments in alchemy!"
This time the shop exploded. People shouted, cheered, and practically vibrated with excitement.
Only a handful of wizards with sharper eyes looked openly unimpressed—did this man have any idea what he was saying?
Among them was Professor Quirrell, who had arrived too late to buy the "Mentor of the Sage" special issue. He gave Lockhart a long, shadowed look, then slipped off to see if there were any overlooked papers still for sale.
"Sean, I think you'd better stay well away. The Defense Against the Dark Arts job seems to… do things to people," Justin said quietly.
Sean nodded. The only thing that surprised him was how quickly Justin had picked up on the DADA curse.
"I'll win his respect naturally—just like I did with Master Tayra. Proving it will be the easiest thing in the world," Lockhart called cheerfully, flashing his perfect white grin.
"See, this beautiful young lady from Hogwarts is already thrilled at my arrival."
A flustered Hermione was dragged up next to him.
"Y-yes, sir," she stammered, dizzy with excitement.
"And this gentleman," Lockhart added, eyes sweeping the crowd until they landed on the calm boy standing in the middle.
Sean.
Lockhart's mood was soaring. He knew very well why Master Tayra had ended up on a Chocolate Frog card—and he knew that meant that mysterious 'Hermes' was real.
So when Dumbledore had approached him with the offer, he'd practically floated to Hogwarts.
A curse? Just a rumor.
And to be immortalized on a Chocolate Frog card himself—what greater glory could there be?
"You there, my boy—would you say you're a fan of mine?" Lockhart asked, smiling warmly.
Sean met his eyes in silence. To his surprise, a faint prickle of unease ran through him.
"Oh? Let me put it another way—aren't you excited to have me as your professor?" Lockhart tried again.
Sean was at a loss for words. Out of all the people in the shop, somehow he had been dragged into this.
Excited…?
"All right then! Let's have our next guest!" Lockhart said smoothly, not missing a beat as he waved Sean away and beckoned someone else forward.
"He's not much like a professor," Justin murmured, moving back to Sean's side, his frown deepening.
"He's more like… a circus clown."
He'd startled even himself saying it out loud—but then Sean looked at him, equally startled, and gave a small, silent nod.
As they spoke, angry voices rose from the crowd below.
"I knew I saw you come in here, Weasley," Draco Malfoy sneered.
"I suppose your mum and dad will be starving themselves for a month to pay for that lot."
Ron's face flushed scarlet. He hurled his books into his cauldron and lunged toward Malfoy.
Harry and Hermione grabbed him from behind and hung on to his robes.
"Ron!"
Mr. Weasley, with Fred and George at his heels, shoved his way through the crowd.
"What do you think you're doing? It's chaos in here—we're leaving, now."
"Well, well—Arthur Weasley," drawled a cold voice.
Lucius Malfoy stood there with one hand resting lightly on Draco's shoulder, that same thin, mocking smile on his face that his son wore.
"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding curtly.
"I hear you've been dreadfully busy, old boy," Lucius said silkily.
"So many raids… I do hope they're paying you overtime?"
He plunged a hand into Ginny's cauldron and plucked out one of the old books from between the shiny new Lockhart volumes—a well-kept but clearly secondhand Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.
"Apparently not," he sniffed. "Good heavens. If there's not even enough for proper new books, what's the point of being a blood traitor?"
"Our ideas about who counts as a disgrace to wizardkind differ greatly, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said, voice icy.
"But of course they do," Lucius replied.
His pale eyes flicked past them, landing for a moment on the anxious Mr. and Mrs. Granger—and then on Sean.
"Look at the company you keep, Weasley… I thought your family couldn't possibly sink any lower.
And on top of that, they've even got a little mute tagging along—"
He didn't finish.
Mr. Weasley roared and launched himself at him—but someone moved even faster.
With a crack of Apparition and a swirl of black robes, a wizard materialized between them. His expression was twisted with rage, and his wand was jammed so hard against Lucius's throat that a faint green light shimmered at the tip.
"You—let one more disrespectful word pass those lips about my employer—"
Professor Quirrell's killing intent washed over the crowd like a physical shock. Dozens of witches and wizards stumbled back in terror.
Lucius Malfoy had no idea what he'd just stepped into. His mind went blank, but the murderous light in Quirrell's eyes was unmistakable. The color drained completely from his face.
"You dare—"
"Ah—"
"I apologize for my mistake!" Lucius blurted, collapsing backward onto the floor.
Only when he choked out the apology did the bloodshot red in Quirrell's eyes slowly fade.
Everything had veered into a direction no one could have predicted. Only then did Lucius remember who was standing in front of him.
The former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
More importantly, the acting manager of a very specific shop in Diagon Alley—Fairytale Atelier.
Which meant…
His gaze trembled and slid sideways.
The wizard the entire magical world was whispering about—the future greatest wizard of the age, "Hermes" three times great, publicly praised and supported by both Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel—was standing there in plain sight, watching him with calm green eyes.
~~~
Patreon(.)com/Bleam
— Currently You can Read 120 Chapters Ahead of Others!