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Outside Hogwarts Castle that afternoon, the rain hadn't let up. Augustus Malfoy, Lillian, and Florian were on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. After lunch, they stepped into the gloomy courtyard under thick, gray clouds. Not far off, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were standing together chatting. Harry was with a younger boy—probably a first-year.
As Augustus and the others got closer, they overheard the conversation.
"H-hi, Harry? I—I'm Colin Creevey," the boy said, slightly out of breath, nervously taking a step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor too. I was wondering—could I—take a picture of you?" He held up his camera, eyes full of hope.
"A picture?" Harry asked, confused.
"So I can prove I met you," Colin said excitedly, stepping a bit closer. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me stuff. Like how you survived the Dark Lord, how he disappeared, and everything.
You've even still got that lightning-shaped scar on your forehead!" (He peered at Harry's hairline.) "A boy in my dorm says if I use the right developing potion, the pictures will even move!
Isn't this place amazing? Before I got my letter from Hogwarts, I had no idea all those weird things I could do were actually magic! My dad's a milkman—he couldn't believe it either. That's why I wanna take loads of pictures to send to him.
And if I could get one with you—" He looked pleadingly at Harry. "—Maybe I could stand next to you, and your friend could press the button? And maybe you could even sign it?"
"A signed photo? You handing out autographs now, Potter?" Draco Malfoy's loud, mocking voice echoed through the courtyard. Harry turned and saw Augustus, Lillian, and Malfoy standing together, clearly eavesdropping. Instantly, Harry's face went as red as a ripe tomato.
"Everyone line up!" Malfoy called out to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"
"I'm not!" Harry snapped, clenching his fists. "Shut it, Malfoy."
"You're just jealous!" Colin blurted out. His whole body was about as thin as Crabbe's neck.
"Jealous?" Malfoy sneered. "Of what, exactly? I don't want a disgusting scar on my forehead, thanks. I don't think getting your head cracked open makes you special. I don't buy it."
"Eat slugs, Malfoy," Ron said angrily.
"Careful there, Weasley," Malfoy mocked. "Wouldn't want you to get into trouble again—your mum might have to come drag you home." He imitated a shrill voice. "If you don't start behaving—"
A group of fifth-year Slytherins nearby burst into laughter.
"Weasley probably wants a signed photo too, Potter," Malfoy smirked. "It'd be worth more than his whole house."
Ron pulled out his wand.
"What now? Even the cowardly Weasley dares to draw his wand and pretend to be a man? That's rich. I bet you wouldn't last ten seconds against me," Malfoy's eyes gleamed with danger.
"Alright, Draco, that's enough. Class is starting," Lillian cut in firmly.
Just as she spoke, a dramatic voice rang out: "What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart came striding over from outside, his teal-green robes billowing behind him. "Did I hear someone mention signed photos?"
Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and cheerfully interrupted, "No need to say a word! So good to see you again, Harry!"
Harry, trapped at Lockhart's side, felt his whole body burn with embarrassment. He saw Malfoy retreat into the crowd, grinning smugly.
"Come now, Mr. Creevey," Lockhart beamed. "A photo of both of us together—now that's a treat! You'll get signatures from the both of us."
Colin fumbled with his camera and, just as the class bell rang, he snapped a picture.
"Off to class, everyone!" Lockhart called out. Then he dragged Harry toward the castle, still holding him in a tight grip. Harry wished he knew a spell to escape this nightmare.
Augustus shook his head. For Harry to get stuck with a guy like that—what a tragedy. Turning away, he and Lillian followed Malfoy toward the classroom.
Once everyone was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat dramatically to get their attention. He picked up Malfoy's copy of Travels with Trolls and held it up, showing off the cover where his photo was winking.
"I," he said, pointing to the photo—which also winked—"am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—but I don't talk about that. I didn't defeat the Bandon Banshee with a smile, after all!"
He paused, waiting for laughs. A few students smiled awkwardly.
"I see you've all bought my full set of books—excellent. So, I thought we'd start with a little quiz today. Don't worry—just a way to see how much you've learned from my books."
He handed out the test papers, then returned to the front of the class.
"You've got thirty minutes. Begin!"
Harry stared at the paper and read the first few questions:
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. In your opinion, what has been Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
And so on. The quiz went on for three whole pages. The final question:
4-5. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?
Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and flipped through them right in front of the class.
"What the hell—who cares what color he likes, or what his dreams are?" Malfoy stared at the test with a disbelieving look. "How does this help us in theory or in dueling? Seriously?"
"You said it," Lillian muttered. "This is the most ridiculous quiz I've ever seen. No teacher I've ever met has had the nerve to turn their own hobbies and personal trivia into exam questions. Has Dumbledore lost it? How did he even hire someone like this? Who the hell needs to know all these useless facts?"
It was probably the first time she and Malfoy were in total agreement.
"Well," Augustus said thoughtfully, "if Dumbledore chose him for this job, he must have his reasons. Maybe there's something deeper going on—something we just don't understand yet."
He didn't like Lockhart either, but that didn't stop him from thinking more critically. It was just hard to see the full picture with so little information.
"Just answer what you can," Augustus muttered, frowning at the test. "To be honest, I don't know a single thing about any of this guy's nonsense."
"....."