Chapter 275 — Lockhart's Failure
About two hours had passed.
"Harry, you're up early?"
Sirius appeared from the hallway, sleeves rolled up as he continued decorating the living room for the birthday party. When he noticed Harry already awake, he looked pleasantly surprised.
"How do you like the decorations? And the dress?" he asked, holding up a neatly folded robe.
"I like it a lot," said Harry, setting down the Daily Prophet in his hand. "For a second, I thought I'd woken up in Professor Sprout's greenhouse."
The newspaper headline caught Sirius's eye. On the front page was a handsome wizard wearing shackles yet still managing to grin confidently, flashing all eight of his shiny teeth.
"That's good," Sirius said with a chuckle. "Your family has always had a fondness for plants and flowers. I figured you'd appreciate it. Even James used to be that way — though he pretended otherwise because he thought it was unmanly."
Sirius's eyes softened as he reminisced. "But he changed after fifth year. To get close to your mum, he stopped hiding it. Herbology and Potions go hand in hand, after all — and Potions was her specialty."
He then glanced at the paper again, lips curling upward. "Ah, you've seen it."
Harry nodded. "Lockhart's a fraud. Always stealing other people's stories for his books."
"Tell me about it," Sirius sighed. "Molly still sings his praises. When we were cleaning out the old Black house, she was clutching that book — 'Gilderoy Lockhart Teaches You How to Get Rid of Pests in Your Home.' She kept saying, 'He's brilliant! He really understands household pests!'"
Sirius spoke in one long breath, clearly holding in that frustration for years.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. He understood exactly how Sirius felt. If Mr. Weasley ever saw this headline, he'd probably hug Lucius Malfoy out of sheer joy.
"This has something to do with you, doesn't it?" Harry said, narrowing his eyes.
"Aha! You caught me," Sirius admitted with a grin. "But don't tell Molly."
"It's not really my fault," he continued, feigning innocence. "Lockhart's fallen out of fashion. To save himself, he rushed out a new book — 'Magical Me' — and he's even applying to be the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."
Sirius leaned back casually. "The Daily Prophet has changed its style lately. Rita Skeeter's reinventing herself, and since I happen to know what kind of student Lockhart really was, I… nudged things along. Let's just say Rita got her hands on quite a bit of his less-than-flattering history."
He looked very pleased with himself.
"What?! He's applying for Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry exclaimed, snatching the newspaper again. His voice rose as he read aloud:
> "If people don't believe I did all those things, my books won't sell. No one wants to read about an ugly old American wizard, even if he saved a village from werewolves. And that witch who banished the ghost of Wanlun? She's got a crooked mouth!"
Harry slammed the paper down. "He dares say that— after all those Obliviate charms he used on real heroes?"
Sirius smirked faintly. "You sound just like your father."
"I mean it! Dumbledore would never hire him," Harry said indignantly. "He'd sooner give the job to Voldemort!"
Sirius chuckled. "Funny thing is, Dumbledore told me once that if young Tom Riddle hadn't existed, Lockhart might actually have gotten the job."
Harry froze, staring at him. "What?"
"I had the same reaction," said Sirius, laughing. "Dumbledore suspected something was off about him, but you know how he is — he'd never dig too deeply or resort to harsh measures. Without Riddle as a benchmark of evil, Lockhart would've looked like a harmless eccentric."
He raised three fingers. "Dumbledore's reasoning went like this:
First, Lockhart's a Ravenclaw — maybe not talented, but knowledgeable enough.
Second, those stories of his? He did visit those places, even if he stole the glory later. There's still something to be learned.
And third…" Sirius grinned, "the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed. Someone like Lockhart, already flawed, would probably get what's coming to him sooner or later."
Harry rubbed his chin, thinking. "So that's Dumbledore's real hiring policy."
"What policy?" Sirius asked curiously.
Harry looked up, a mischievous spark in his eyes — the same spark James once had.
"Consumables," he said simply.
Sirius blinked. "What?"
"You know — teachers who can be replaced easily. Professor Quirrell didn't even get to finish his first year. Dumbledore probably saved a fortune on salaries." Harry leaned forward, dead serious. "He's tasted blood, Sirius. If Lockhart gets cursed next, Dumbledore could even blackmail him for a bit of gold."
Sirius burst out laughing. "Harry, Dumbledore may not be a saint, but he's not that shameless."
"You're wrong," Harry said firmly. "When dealing with dark wizards, morality doesn't apply!"
That passion in Harry's voice hit Sirius hard. For a moment, it felt like James was standing there — same fire, same conviction.
He remembered their old days. James always said that fighting dark wizards together wasn't dishonor — it was solidarity for justice.
One-on-one duels were for fools. The Marauders believed in teamwork, in brotherhood — even against impossible odds.
But all that changed after fifth year.
"Damn Lily Evans," Sirius muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" Harry asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Sirius replied quickly, his gaze turning distant. "I was talking about Dumbledore."
And with that, the conversation faded into silence.
(End of Chapter 275)
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