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Chapter 39– Flourish.
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"It seems we have another hero within our midst. Harry Potter. Come on up, son." Gilderoy Lockhart says as he moves around his desk calmly. Harry can do nothing but stay still as the entire crowd turns around and stares at him. He had experienced something like this the year before at The Leaky Cauldron, but there were only a few witches and wizards there. Here, it seems like most of the female population is attending, and all of them are looking at him. Harry doesn't know what to do, and it is only made worse when Lockhart himself moves towards Harry.
Lockhart moved forward, and it made Harry think of Moses parting the red sea. He walked forward calmly, not saying anything, his hands held behind his back. He wasn't pushing or shoving or even saying anything, and yet the crowd automatically parted for him. They whispered excitedly to each other in low murmurs, about Harry and about Gilderoy Lockhart as well. And then, finally, Lockhart came to a stop in front of Harry, and Harry had to crane his neck up to look him in the face. Gilderoy put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and it was gentle. And then he lowered himself till he was face to face with Harry and then opened his mouth.
"Come along, Harry, just come up, a quick picture, and then it's done. I also have something to talk to you about afterwards. Now, come along, son." He winks at Harry and then rises back up and places his hand behind Harry's back. He doesn't push or prod. And yet, Harry finds his feet moving on their own, carrying him forward to the front. Lockhart is beside him, leading him forward through the crowd.
The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as they finally made it to the front, with the entire crowd watching intently. Lockhart subtly positioned Harry and then shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys. "Just smile, Harry. The faster you give it to them, the faster the parasites will leave you alone. Keep smiling." Whispered Lockhart through his own gleaming teeth. Harry almost turned to look at him in shock before Lockhart tugged on his hand and reminded him to keep smiling.
"Alright, Harry, now I am about to offer you something in front of all of these people—an opportunity. Don't be pressured by all of them or worried by the fact that they are all looking and watching you. Or that they will judge you for whatever you say. Just answer honestly" When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side to whisper that in his ear.
Harry found himself once more unable to move, and he was worried. An opportunity? What did that mean? And the people would judge him for what he said? Does that mean there is a correct answer? Harry began to worry and think about it and discovered that this was something that was stressful. And then Gilderoy waved his hand, and the crowd quieted down, and the flashes stopped.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, the crowd hanging onto his every word. "When I first walked into this store today, I had no idea that I would be meeting The Boy Who Lived. And now, with Harry by my side, I can't help but think of an idea. You know me, ladies and gentlemen, I am not one to limit myself or keep my thoughts at bay, and I will always push on no matter the obstacle, so I will just go ahead and say it." He spoke, and the crowd listened intently. They had a little chuckle, but Harry never heard a joke.
"Harry Potter. I have recently started my own line of brooms, the Firebolt. And I am happy to say that we have taken the wizarding world by storm. We are the fastest broom on the market, and we are only going to get faster. But suddenly, I had a thought. Why not make another broom, a special broom? But I had no clue on what to do to make it special, that was until Mr Potter joined me on this stage." Lockhart said, and then he turned to Harry, looking deeply into his eyes.
"Harry, how would you like to design your own broom?" The crowd let out gasps and sounds of confusion while Harry himself didn't know how to respond. "Wha- What?" He said dumbly, unable to come up with another response to such an on-the-spot question. Lockhart ignored that stuttering and continued on.
"Think about it. I have heard you are a brilliant seeker, the youngest in a century. You can come and help to design your own broom with my team—the design on it and a few of the other features. And then we can make one for you and then another ten as exclusive items that will never be made again. What do you say, Harry? Yes or no?" Lockhart said, and Harry found himself in a tense situation as he had never had such a big decision put in front of him before.
The cheers and screams from the crowd didn't help any. Harry found it hard to think with all of their shouting, pleading for him to say yes. The opportunity was amazing. Harry never thought he would be able to ever help create a broom, but the offer was so out of the blue that he didn't know how to respond. But he had to say something. Lockhart's words rang in his head, and he realised that he would be judged for this, and everyone here wanted him to say something. And it was clear what.
"Y- Yes," Harry says, and the crowd roared in joy at that. Harry instinctively smiled next to Lockhart as the cameras began to flash again. He didn't know whether or not he said yes because he actually wanted to or if it was because of what the audience wanted.
"Great, Harry. Simply wonderful." Lockhart grinned, looking like the cat that ate the canary. He once more waved, and the crowd quieted. "Now, I have a few more details to discuss with Harry here, so I hope you can all excuse me for this brief delay. Thank you." And then he turned around, guiding Harry further back into the store and through a pair of curtains that he closed behind them. Lockhart waved a wand, and suddenly all the noise coming through the curtain disappeared, and it was just Harry and Lockhart.
"I am glad you said yes, Harry." Lockhart began, leaning against a desk and crossing his arms. "Now, how do you want to do this? Do you want me to take care of everything, and then you can just ignore it until the money comes in, at which point you can take your part? We will also need to decide on the percentage you will be getting from this." Lockhart continues, and Harry feels all of it going over his head, but he does hear money being mentioned.
"Ah, Mr Lockhart, I don't need any money." Lockhart raises an eyebrow, and a light noise of interest makes Harry continue. "I have more than enough already, so I don't need any." Lockhart stays silent, and his gaze bores into Harry with an intensity that makes Harry want to curl in on himself.
"Are you sure?" Lockhart finally asks, and Harry nods his head in confirmation. Harry doesn't need money. He has more than enough in his vault, left to him by his parents. Plus, making money off of... it felt wrong, and Harry didn't feel good just thinking about it. However, he has already agreed, and everybody saw him do it. Plus, he would like to have a hand in making a broom. It seems like a one-in-a-lifetime experience.
"So I suppose this means you actually do want to participate and help design the broom?" Lockhart inquires, and again Harry nods his head. "Yes, sir." Lockhart stands straight and walks forward.
"Okay, you are currently staying with the Weasleys, correct?" A nod of the head. "And you don't have anything important to do tomorrow?" Harry shakes his head. "Good, somebody will be by to collect you by 10 in the morning. They will bring you to my team, where you will spend the day working on the design, and then you will be brought back to the Weasleys. Be ready. And I expect you to be on your best behaviour." Harry listens intently, and though he wonders how the adventurer knew he was staying with the Weasleys, he doesn't voice it.
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"Uhm, sir. You said you also had something to talk to me about?" Harry can't help but say, remembering when Lockhart first came up to him and whispered that to him. "Ah, yes. I did, didn't I? Well, it isn't urgent so we can talk about that another time. After all, we will be seeing more of each other in the future." Gilderoy Lockhart must be talking about the broom design, and they will see each other there.
"Well, the broad stroke of it is that you have a lot to learn about fame. It is a blessing and a curse, and like it or not, you have it, so make the most of it. Or it will be used against you. If you would like to know how to wield it, then come to me. I will be happy to oblige and aid a blooming young wizard. Now, I think we have kept them waiting long enough. Let us be off." With the conversation at an end, Lockhart dispels whatever magic he used to block the outside noise.
He then leads Harry back out through the curtain so that they are standing on the stage once more, at which point he addresses the crowd. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!" He begins, and the crowd settles, hooked on his every word.
"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography -which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded. "He had no idea," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing 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 cheered and clapped.
"Yes, I am quite excited to have a hand in raising the next generation of wizards and hopefully passing on the torch and inspiring some young adventurers to go and have adventures of their own. Now, here you are, Harry. I am sure you have the rest of your Hogwarts shopping to get done." Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.
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I watch Harry waddle off with all of my books, heading in the direction of the little ginger girl I met around a year ago. Ginny Weasley and I know what is about to happen. I quickly set into the monotony of signing books and greeting fans, but I don't pay much intention. I have made many strides in the last few months, which I will get into late, and one such is the ability to partition my mind. Right now, I have a partition taking care of the singing and talking to the fans. At the same time, I myself keep an eye on Harry because I want to make sure what is about to happen is actually going to go according to plan.
"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own -" And I can already see the blond ferret swaggering up behind the glasses-wearing kid. Man, this is kind of reminding me of my past life, seeing an entitled kid swaggering about like he owns the world. They were most of the young population in my last life, but they were very rare in this current day and age. And I have finally seen one again.
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Even the voice was smarmy and entitled, and I could see Harry had no trouble recognizing it, given the way his face cringed. He straightened up and turned around to find himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing a sneer that made him look more constipated than anything else.
"Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page." Well, that isn't his fault. I needed to make sure things were going as close to canon as possible since I had been pulled into being the professor this year, and that meant bringing Harry up for a photo. That way, Malfoy would approach him along with his dad, though I would rather it was his mother since I would like to see if she is as much of a fox as she was described as in my last life.
Anyway, I had to make sure this interaction happened, and it just so happened I was crucial for it to happen. Though I am sure, Malfoy wouldn't be able to keep himself away from Harry once he saw him. It was more of a crush than a hatred. And with Harry there, I decided to take advantage of it and see if I could get some special brooms out there. And with an advertisement from The Boy Who Lived as well. Those things were going to sell for a fortune.
"Leave him alone. He didn't want all that!" said Ginny, glaring at Malfoy. Where before she was a timid and shy girl, blushing red with her eyes on the floor, now she was fierce and proud—no wonder she would be going to Gryffindor this year.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy. Not really an insult since that should really be a mark of pride at that age, but I suppose as insecure and childish as they are, it would be more embarrassing than anything: cooties and such. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of my books. Interesting. I wonder how the Weasleys would be paying for the books this year. I would be making a mint on all the books sold as well this year since every single student would be buying all of my books. It was one of my conditions for being a professor this year. Maybe Dumbledore would be spotting the Weasleys.
"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?" Why? They both need to shop for school supplies. This red-headed kid isn't very bright, is he?
"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Oh wow. Well, kudos, he said exactly what I was thinking. Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.
"Ron!" said Mr Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here. Let's go outside." Here we see the Weasley clan starting to gather. When one is threatened, they all band together to intimidate and scare away the predator. I wonder if David Attenborough is on Tv at this point in time.
"Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley." The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, grey eyes. It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way. Damn, if he had long ears, I would think he was a fantasy elf. What is with this effeminate man?
"Lucius," said Mr Weasley, nodding coldly.
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr Malfoy. "All those raids ... I hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy books sold by me, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. And so begins the sleight of hand, with no actual magic involved.
"Obviously not," Mr Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?" Mr Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny. Damn, I see where Draco is getting his shitty mouth. Not really a great insult, but it seems the Malfoy men know how to get under a Weasley's skin specifically.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said. I could see him clenching his fists, and I waited in anticipation.
"Clearly," said Mr Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr and Mrs Granger, who was watching apprehensively. And I must say, got damn Mrs Granger. The Granger genes are very blessed, given the way those jeans are full. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower." If Mrs Granger is sinking lower, then I want to drown.
There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads. There was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from Fred or George. Mrs Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!" It surprised me how quickly everything devolved.
The crowd stampeded backwards, knocking more shelves over. "Gentlemen, please - please!" cried the assistant. And then, I saw the massive presence making itself known much louder than all the other going ons, and I wondered how I could have missed him before this.
"Break it up, there, gents, break it up -" Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant, he had pulled Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy apart. Mr Weasley had a cut lip, and Mr Malfoy had been hit in the eye by either a book or a fist. This... I don't remember it from the movie. Did it happen in the books? I never read them properly. The films were just easier to watch. Damn, my meta-knowledge might not be as great as I thought it was. I need to be more cautious going forward.
Lucius was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. "Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -" Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip, he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop. The diary was definitely just deposited to little Miss Weasley, and yet I couldn't spot it. Perhaps it wasn't just sleight of hand, and Lucius had the book disillusioned so he could easily slip it in and reveal itself later. That would make sense.
"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter - bad blood, that's what it is - come on now - let's get outta here." Kind of prejudiced there, Hagrid. And I would think you would know better being a Half-Giant. Draco is still just a kid. You can't just paint him under the same banner as his parents. At least wait until the fifth year when he lets the Death Eaters into the castle and bottles it when he tries to assassinate Dumbledore.
The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them from leaving, wanting them to fix all of the mess, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. The Weasleys and gang hurried out of the shop, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs Weasley beside herself with fury. Well, that was fun.
I can't wait to go teach at Hogwarts... I hate Dumbledore.