thefictionvixens Chapter 49 Scarface 2: Lockhart's Trial
Chapter 49 Scarface 2: Lockhart's Trial
Meanwhile, Lockhart held a reception at Flourish and Blotts, and Harry had long wanted to meet him. Knowing this, how could he not be eager to do so?
Although the Flourish and Blotts bookstore was packed with people, Harry just kept pushing his way forward with his knife. When wizards turned around and saw the electric scar on his forehead, they all cried out in surprise.
"Oh my god! It's Harry Potter!"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter—what time did you get back?"
"Mr. Potter, are you here to buy Mr. Lockhart's books too?"
Harry's fame spread throughout the wizarding world, and even though Lockhart had hundreds of followers, they all turned against him upon seeing Scarface.
The word spread like wildfire, from one person to ten, from ten to a hundred. People on the street talked to those at the door, those at the door talked to those in line, and those in line shouted into the bookstore.
In just a few breaths, Harry was surrounded, and Ron and Hermione, who had been standing close to him, were nowhere to be seen.
When they came to their senses, the two were already outside the crowd, more than ten meters away from Harry.
"Speaking of which... Hermione," Ron scratched his head, looking confused, "how did the two of us get squeezed out?"
"I don't know," Hermione shook her head blankly, then exclaimed in surprise, "Wait, with so many people surrounding Harry, what if the Man of Vic is inside?"
The whereabouts of Voldemort's remaining soul are still unknown. It is likely that he has possessed that unlucky man again, that jinx, and is secretly plotting assassination.
Ron and Hermione rushed forward to squeeze in, but before they could even use their hard-earned strength, a blond wizard ran out of the bookstore.
"Oh! Is it Harry Potter?"
"Harry Potter is going to buy my books too!"
This blond wizard seemed to be a shrewd and extravagant man; wherever he went, the other wizards scattered.
He walked straight toward Harry, shook his hand, and said with a smile, "Come on, Harry, let's go to the bookstore and take some good photos. I think we'll definitely make the front page."
Harry stared intently and saw that the man was over seven feet tall and looked to be in his twenties or thirties. He wore a wizard's robe, was neither scholarly nor martial, had a snow-white face, and exuded a fragrant aroma. Twenty-eight silver teeth were neatly arranged, and three thousand gold threads swayed in the wind. He didn't resemble a wise and all-knowing wizard, but rather a male courtesan from a brothel.
Look closely at this smiling face, who else could it be but Lockhart?
Upon seeing him, Harry cupped his hands and said, "Hearing about someone is not as good as seeing them, and seeing them is even better than hearing about them. I am honored to meet you, sir."
Lockhart paused for a moment after hearing these words, then smiled and said, "Of course, Harry, it's an honor for me to meet you too."
"Let's quickly take a group photo to commemorate this moment."
After saying that, he dragged Harry into Flourish and Blotts and called over a short man to press the shutter button on the camera.
The short man was jumping around, and the camera flashes were going off non-stop. Lockhart, however, paid no attention to him, and instead called for a set of books, handing them all to Harry.
"Alright, folks, when young Harry walked into Flourish and Blotts today, he just wanted to buy my books—and I'd gladly give him a free complete Lockhart collection right here and now!"
Harry thought to himself: This fellow may have a slick and oily appearance, but he's a warm-hearted and easygoing man who doesn't fuss over details. However, whether he's truly learned and talented, I'll have to test him myself.
Lockhart, with his arm around Harry's shoulder, chatted incessantly with the reporters. Harry interrupted, "Good scholar, I know you are a learned man, but I have some doubts. May I ask what they are?"
"Oh dear! Our dear little Harry wants to ask me a question!" Lockhart exclaimed with a beaming smile. "Go ahead, Harry, whatever the question, I'll answer it for you."
"I've heard that giants are inherently dull-witted, relying solely on their size and strength. Is that truly the case?"
Upon hearing Harry's question, Lockhart confidently replied, "No, no, no, Harry, trolls are indeed big and stupid, but they are still somewhat clever."
"Of course, I'm referring to mountain trolls. Forest trolls and river trolls are a different story..."
He spoke eloquently and fluently, in an orderly manner, captivating many witches who were so engrossed that they could only rest their chins on their hands and send him flirtatious glances.
Harry, having slain trolls, knew that Lockhart's words were absolutely true, but this one question was not enough.
"Harry, do you have anything else—"
Before he could finish speaking, a sharp clang rang out, and Harry drew his sword, slamming it on the table. He said, "Scholar, could you examine this sword with me?"
Lockhart stared at the knife, momentarily stunned, and even lowered his hand from Harry's shoulder.
"Uh... Harry, why are you carrying a knife?"
"Please forgive my ignorance, but I am a cautious person. I did not learn any powerful spells when I entered school, so I need a good weapon for self-defense."
Lockhart listened without showing any expression, but inwardly he was filled with dread.
You should know that he is only doing some superficial work; how could he possibly know the origin of this knife?
The bookstore was being watched by a hundred or so wizards, making it impossible for him to leave or escape. After pondering for a long time, he finally touched the knife and said cautiously, "This is no ordinary knife."
"This is..." Lockhart was about to make something up when he suddenly noticed Harry's arm guard. Although it was simple, it was engraved with hundreds of spells.
Lockhart, struck by a sudden inspiration, exclaimed, "This must be a supernatural weapon forged by fairies!"
The wizards in the audience whispered among themselves; Ron and Hermione stared wide-eyed; Harry was overjoyed and repeatedly clasped his hands in greeting.
"Scholar, you have a keen eye indeed. My sword has seen many grand occasions, yet no one knows its origin."
Lockhart nodded with a broad smile, his mind brimming with complaints.
Is it really a weapon forged by fairies?
How much does this thing cost?
He was good at judging people; seeing Harry's repeated questions, he knew that Harry must have something to say.
His eyes darted around, and he feigned anger, coldly saying, "Mr. Potter, I think you don't need to test me anymore."
"If you have any further questions, please speak with my assistant. By the way, Mr. Potter, knowledge comes at a price."
Harry remained silent, then handed over a bag containing one hundred galleons from under the table. "Please forgive my ignorance, but let's find a quiet place to discuss this further."
Lockhart squeezed the bag, nodded, and called out, "Alright, everyone, today's Lockhart reception is now over. You don't need to wait any longer!"
After saying that, he smiled and invited Harry to the second floor.
As they went upstairs, Ron and Hermione arrived. Lockhart smiled and said, "Excuse me, my two little fans, could you please give me some privacy?"
Ron blinked. "Uh... sorry, sir, we're here to see Harry."
"Please forgive me, scholar, these two are my sworn brothers, they are all family, and I would never let a word of it slip out."
"If anything goes wrong, I will cut off one of my fingers to apologize to the professor."
Having said that, she invited Lockhart to take a seat. Hermione and Ron also found a spot with a clear view to be on guard.
Seeing his harsh words and experienced demeanor, Lockhart felt a strange unease and a chill run down his spine.
Something feels... off.
Is this a second-year wizard?