Gilderoy Lockhart truly had a knack for coming up with antics that defied common sense. While boasting about his thrilling adventures during class, he got so carried away that he decided mere storytelling wasn't exciting enough. Without warning, he stepped off the podium, grabbed Harry's arm, and dragged him to the front of the class.
"And now, let our very own Harry Potter assist me in reenacting the story of my encounter with the Himalayan Yeti during my expedition to the Dragon Kingdom!" Lockhart beamed his signature smile as he threw an arm around Harry, who was now shrinking his neck like a frightened chick.
Harry's face turned purple. After enduring Lockhart's torment for days on end, the last thing Harry expected was to be subjected to more of it during Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
Who in their right mind wants to perform a stage play with you, you lunatic?!
Let go! LET GO!
But how could a young wizard's strength compare to that of an adult? No matter how hard Harry struggled, he was firmly held in Lockhart's grasp, unable to escape his fate.
"Clearly, Mr. Potter is eager to get started," Lockhart said with a radiant smile, tightening his grip on the flailing Harry. He leaned in and added in a conspiratorial tone, "Relax, Mr. Potter. This isn't our first collaboration. You have nothing to worry about—you won't drag me down. Trust my judgment." Lockhart's expression suddenly turned serious as he locked eyes with Harry's green ones. "You have a gift for this, I'm sure of it!"
Then, just as quickly, his confident smile returned. "And with me here, you don't need to worry about messing up!"
Harry was momentarily stunned by Lockhart's sudden shift in demeanor but quickly resumed struggling with even greater intensity.
LET GO OF ME!!!
"Harry really is… how should I put it?" Hermione propped her chin on her hand, watching the bizarre interaction between Lockhart and Harry on the podium. "A magnet for attention? Or just plain unlucky?"
She began counting on her fingers. "Let's see… Professor Snape is always keeping an eye on Harry. Then there was Quirrell and Voldemort. Not to mention Filch, who's always patrolling Hogwarts. And now we've got Lockhart. Wow, is this the charm of the Boy Who Lived? It looks exhausting."
Glenn nodded in agreement. To wear the crown, one must bear its weight. Being hailed as the savior of the wizarding world naturally brought its share of troubles.
Hopefully, Harry could hold up until Voldemort was defeated, serving as a reliable lightning rod for attention.
At the very least, he shouldn't get worn out too quickly. The longer Harry could stay in the spotlight, the more time Glenn and Hermione would have to grow and prepare.
The more Glenn thought about it, the more sense it made. Since there was currently no way to deal with the fragment of Voldemort's soul inside Harry, it might be best to let Harry continue as the focal point of attention, drawing fire away from others.
Glenn had no intention of relying on Dumbledore's plan to groom Harry as a hero. Instead, he placed his faith in his own efforts and actions.
As his mind wandered deeper into future plans, Glenn became lost in thought, strategizing and preparing for what lay ahead.
After all, Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons were utterly worthless. Skipping them entirely wouldn't make a difference.
Beside him, Hermione had already picked up The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3 and was voraciously absorbing its contents. Unlike in other classes, the two of them had chosen seats in the very last row for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Glenn had even cast a Confundus Charm on Lockhart. Several times, Lockhart had strutted past them while boasting about his exploits, yet he never reacted to their presence—proof that Lockhart was all style and no substance.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Glenn picked up Advanced Potion-Making—a gift from Snape—and resumed studying its contents.
Not long ago, Glenn had consulted Snape about whether a certain potion could achieve a specific effect. Snape, clearly annoyed, had told him the answer was in this book. Upon reading it, Glenn had a moment of enlightenment. His previous attempts at brewing the potion had been directionless, but now he was on the verge of success. However, he estimated it would still take another month or two to perfect.
In any case, reading was never a waste of time. Each reread brought new insights and understanding.
Meanwhile, Glenn's work on crafting his dueling badge was nearing completion, as was his study of Classical Chinese. His practice with alchemy had been honed through making props for the Dueling Club. His mastery of spells and Chinese sorcery was steadily progressing, and his physical training and combat practice remained a daily routine. Naturally, his current focus was on the potion he was researching.
After all, Glenn believed this potion was of significant importance to him.
On the podium, Harry was doing his best to act like a Himalayan Yeti with a severe case of nasal frostbite. Lockhart, meanwhile, struck a series of dramatic and flamboyant poses, claiming he was recreating the scene perfectly. The young witches in the audience either gazed at Lockhart with starry-eyed admiration or slumped over their desks in deep slumber. Others, like Glenn and Hermione, resigned themselves to self-study. It was astonishing how many different ways there were to endure a single Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.
Truly, Gilderoy Lockhart was one of a kind.
Finally, just as Harry was about to break under the weight of Lockhart's increasingly humiliating demands, the bell rang. Harry had never been so grateful for the sound of the dismissal bell. He bolted off the podium, grabbed his seven books, and dashed out of the classroom faster than Glenn and Hermione, who were seated in the back row.
Harry couldn't take it for another second!
"Oh, it seems our dear Mr. Potter is feeling shy," Lockhart said, unfazed by Harry's abrupt departure. "He still has a long way to go before he can reach my level of greatness!"
Laughable. Where could Harry possibly run to? Lockhart smirked to himself. Others might not know, but he did—Harry would still have to come to his office tonight to help him reply to fan mail.
The thought of the famous Harry Potter serving him filled Lockhart with immense satisfaction. Unbothered, he continued smiling and signing autographs for his adoring fans.
"Did Harry always run that fast?" Hermione joked, watching Harry's figure disappear at the end of the corridor.
"I think I might need to endure the discomfort and get closer to Lockhart," Draco Malfoy said, suddenly appearing beside Glenn and Hermione with Neville in tow. "This is the perfect way to annoy Harry. Did you see his face just now? Absolutely priceless! Hahaha!"
Hermione glanced at Neville, who looked equally exasperated, and sighed. "As long as it makes you happy."
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