Time passed day by day. The crises lurking in the darkness would not be noticed by anyone for the time being.
The relaxed and free summer holiday, like a refreshing breeze, quietly smoothed over the critical events of the previous term, leaving not too many ripples.
Everything seemed calm, but no one could know how many undercurrents were surging and intertwining beneath this tranquility.
But no matter what, Hogwarts was about to start.
On the eve of the new term, Diagon Alley was always quite lively, as the vast majority of students needed to come here to buy things for the new school year.
And at this moment, Flourish and Blotts was even more crowded and packed. This was all, of course, because of the magical world's celebrity author named Gilderoy Lockhart.
"We can see him in person!" Hermione shrieked. "I mean, he's written almost all the books on the list!"
Although the crowd was mostly made up of middle-aged women, it was clear that Mr. Lockhart's charm was also very effective in the circle of young girls.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed through the crowd.
Inside the bookshop, a long queue had formed, winding all the way out onto the street. They each grabbed a copy of the book for signing and secretly joined the queue where the Weasleys and the Grangers were waiting.
And just outside the main door of Flourish and Blotts hung a large banner. The words on it were not only bright and eye-catching, but they even moved—Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography, Magical Me, today 12:30 p.m. – 4:30 p.m.
"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley.
She was breathless and kept patting her hair to make it neater. "We'll be able to see him in a moment..."
As the queue moved forward, they finally caught sight of the main character of Flourish and Blotts today.
He was sitting behind a table, surrounded by photographs of various sizes. All the faces in the photos were winking at the crowd, flashing dazzlingly white teeth.
The real Lockhart was wearing robes the color of forget-me-nots, which perfectly matched his blue eyes. A pointed wizard's hat was perched jauntily on his curly, styled hair.
In front of him, a short man with a camera was constantly jumping around, trying to find various angles for his photos. The flashes were almost continuous, and puffs of purple smoke kept coming out of the camera.
"Out of the way, there," the short man, who clearly had a bad temper, yelled at Ron for blocking his shot, while taking a few steps back to get a better angle. "This is for the Daily Prophet."
"Big deal," said Ron, struggling to lift his foot in the crowd and rubbing his instep, which had been stepped on by the man.
Lockhart apparently heard this. He looked up, first at Ron, but then immediately saw Harry. His eyes suddenly lit up, and he said happily, "It can't be Harry Potter?"
The crowd parted to make way. Amidst the whispers of the crowd, Lockhart rushed forward, grabbed Harry's hand, and pulled him to the very front.
"Nice big smile, Harry," Lockhart said, showing his own neat, white teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page!"
The whole place burst into enthusiastic applause, but Harry's face turned red from the scene.
When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry felt that his fingers had been squeezed numb. He wanted to slip back to the Weasleys, but one of Lockhart's arms was still draped over his shoulder, holding him firmly by his side.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for everyone to be quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time..."
Lockhart took this opportunity to announce that he would be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.
Instantly, the crowd's applause grew even more enthusiastic.
But in the crowd behind, two young wizards were squeezing their way out. Hermione, who happened to hear Mrs. Weasley speak, turned her head and caught a glimpse of them.
"Is that... Marcel?" Hermione said in surprise. "Who's that girl he's with?"
She turned back to pull Ron in front of her, but when she looked back again, they had already disappeared into the sea of people.
"Marcel? Where?" Ron stood on his tiptoes to look, then said doubtfully, "Did you see wrong? There are so many people..."
Hermione craned her neck to look for a while longer, but finally shook her head. "I don't know... maybe?"
In fact, Hermione had seen clearly. It was just that the Marcel she saw made her a little doubtful—she wondered if she had really seen wrong.
"No, Marcel's eyes are softer. They couldn't possibly be so..." Hermione muttered to herself. "They couldn't possibly be so cold."
"And who was that girl with the pale-blonde hair next to him? She looked strangely dressed."
She thought for a moment, then shook her head again. "Maybe I really did see wrong."
As Hermione was pondering, she heard a nasty voice from behind.
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" It was Draco Malfoy, with his usual sneering smile.
"Famous Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."
"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny, who was standing next to Harry.
This was the first time she had spoken up in front of Harry. She was usually too shy to say anything.
"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" Malfoy drawled.
Ginny's face turned scarlet.
Ron and Hermione pushed through from behind, each carrying a stack of Lockhart's books, separating her from Malfoy.
Ginny was the apple of the Weasley family's eye. If Malfoy dared to bully her, Ron naturally wouldn't stand for it. He and Malfoy exchanged looks of mutual contempt and began to trade insults.
Before long, Ron was so provoked that he wanted to rush over and punch Malfoy in the face. Harry and Hermione quickly grabbed the back of his robes.
"Ron!" said Mr. Weasley, struggling through the crowd with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's go outside."
"Well, well, well—Arthur Weasley."
Just as Mr. Weasley was trying to pull his children out, a man emerged from the crowd behind Malfoy.
"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, looking at him coldly and nodding slightly.
It was Lucius Malfoy. He had one hand on Draco's shoulder, and the sneer on the father's and son's faces was identical.
"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 pulled out a very battered, secondhand copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.
"Heh heh, apparently not," he 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's face turned even redder than Ron's and Ginny's.
"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said angrily.
"Clearly," said Lucius, tilting his head up disdainfully.
His pale eyes flickered and fell on the Grangers, who were watching them nervously.
"The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower."
Mr. Weasley lunged at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks fell on their heads, and even Ginny's cauldron was sent flying with a loud clang.
The twins, Fred and George, were shouting "Get him, Dad!" from the side, while Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!"
The crowd backed away in alarm, knocking over more bookshelves and causing the shop assistant's face to contort in misery.
Just then, a loud voice boomed over all the others.
"Break it up, gentlemen, break it up!"
It was Hagrid. He strode over the scattered books and, in a flash, pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart.
Mr. Weasley had a split lip, and Lucius had been hit in the eye by a thick book. He was still clutching Ginny's old Transfiguration textbook.
Ginny had already picked up her cauldron from the side. Seeing this, Lucius casually stuffed the book into her cauldron, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Here, girl—take your book. It's the best your father can give you." He wrenched his arm free from Hagrid's grasp, beckoned to Draco, and stormed out of the shop without a backward glance.
"You shouldn't have risen to it, Arthur," said Hagrid, reaching out to straighten Mr. Weasley's robes, but with such force that he almost lifted him off the ground.
"He's a rotten git, the whole family is, everyone knows it. No Malfoy's worth listenin' to. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now, let's get outside."
A shop assistant seemed to want to stop them to demand compensation, but with Hagrid's size, no one dared to casually block his way. Before long, they were out of the shop, leaving the assistants staring at each other with long faces.
They hurried down the street. Hermione's parents, who were ordinary Muggles, were trembling with fear, while Mrs. Weasley beside them was furious.
"A fine example to set for your children! Brawling in public? What Gilderoy Lockhart must have thought—"
"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report. Said it was all publicity..."
And not far from them in the crowd, a teenager watched them coldly, his deep black eyes fixed, intentionally or not, on Ginny's cauldron—or more precisely, on a black-covered diary inside that cauldron.
Get The FULL NOVEL At Once On Patreon now!
@patreon.com/Zefyrus