As the star of the book signing, Gilderoy Lockhart appeared on stage at exactly 12:30, flashing the smile that had earned him Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award five times...
“Sorry to keep you waiting, lovely ladies~!”
Lockhart waved at the crowd of wizards as he walked behind a table. From his greeting, it was clear he knew exactly which audience he needed to charm—the majority of his real fans were the witches present.
As for the other wizards, most had either been dragged there by their wives or had simply stopped by out of curiosity...
After his greeting, Lockhart took his seat behind the table. From this spot, everyone in the hall could see him clearly. He was surrounded by huge portraits of himself, each one winking at the crowd and flashing blindingly white teeth.
The real Lockhart wore a blue robe the same shade as forget-me-nots, perfectly matching his blue eyes. On his head sat a pointed wizard’s hat, tilted playfully to the side.
Compared to the other wizards who always wore standard robes, Lockhart’s carefully curated outfit earned him plenty of screams from the witches...
“Ahhh!”
“Lockhart, over here!!”
“Woohoo!”
The scene was so frenzied that Harry felt like he was back on the Quidditch pitch. What shocked him even more was that the normally gentle Mrs. Weasley was screaming at Lockhart like a giddy schoolgirl.
Harry glanced over at Arthur Weasley, whose face had gone completely dark...
“Ron... um...”
“Don’t say it, Harry. My mum’s a huge fan of that guy. Her bookshelf’s packed with all his books—and those things aren’t cheap.”
Seeing the hesitation on Harry’s face, Ron instantly knew what he was about to ask. While answering, he couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the money spent on those ridiculous books. At the same time, he was quietly relieved that Hermione hadn’t gone mad over Lockhart like his mum had.
As Ron saw it, Hermione was just a little excited and curious—not completely bewitched by that over-smiling peacock on stage...
While Ron Weasley was trying to calm his mother down, someone gave him a rough shove from behind. Luckily, Harry grabbed him in time, or he would’ve faceplanted.
The wizard who pushed him didn’t seem the least bit apologetic. Instead, he grumbled irritably...
“Move it!”
The short wizard had a large black camera in hand and was hopping around snapping photos. Each time the flash went off, the camera puffed out bursts of purple smoke.
Satisfied with his latest shot, he glanced smugly at the young wizard glaring at him.
“This is for the Daily Prophet!”
“Oh, how impressive!”
Ron, already in a foul mood, clearly didn’t buy the excuse. But there wasn’t much he could do except mutter under his breath—quiet enough that only Harry could hear him.
His reaction made the reporter smirk even more smugly...
The scuffle didn’t attract much attention, but Draco and Pansy, who had just arrived, happened to catch the whole thing.
“Tch, it’s them. Never thought the Chosen One would be a fan of that guy.”
“No, I don’t think so. I doubt they could sit through an entire book.”
“Look over there—Lockhart seems to have noticed them.”
Following Pansy’s gaze, Draco saw Lockhart, who had been seated behind the table, now staring with wide-eyed excitement in the direction of Ron Weasley and the Daily Prophet reporter.
No—more accurately, Lockhart’s attention was locked on Harry Potter...
“Isn’t that our Chosen One, Harry Potter?!”
Apparently recognizing Harry, Lockhart suddenly lit up with an exaggerated smile that looked almost fake. With how he cried out in surprise, anyone unaware of the situation might’ve thought the Minister of Magic had shown up.
As Lockhart stood, the crowd parted to clear a path toward Harry. On either side, wizards whispered excitedly as they watched Gilderoy Lockhart stride toward him.
The hot-headed reporter, thrilled by the scene, frantically pressed his shutter—desperate to capture this “historic” moment.
“Wait, you're going to—”
“Hahaha! Everyone, look who’s shown up at my book signing!”
“I’m not—”
“It’s the one and only Chosen One—Harry Potter!!!”
Before Harry could say anything, Lockhart grabbed his arm and, half-pushing, half-dragging him onto the stage, pulled him to his side and gestured to the reporter to snap a photo of the two of them.
Harry, initially flustered and trying to back away, froze as the audience burst into applause. The scene felt strangely familiar, and for a brief moment, he was reminded of the end-of-term party. Then, when his eyes landed on a certain little witch in the crowd, the resistance he’d felt suddenly eased. Before he even realized it, a small smile crept onto his face...
“Very good, Harry, that’s a wonderful smile! I think we’ll make the front page of the Daily Prophet together!”
“I... really?”
“Of course! You’re Harry Potter, and I’m the ever-charming Gilderoy Lockhart!”
Lockhart’s words made Harry blush as he chuckled softly in his ear. Harry hadn’t meant to smile like that, but when he saw the pretty little witch standing beside Draco, a sudden impulse had taken hold of him.
What he didn’t notice, though, was Ron’s flickering gaze from the crowd below, fixed on him...