"Dumbledore's brain must have been pickled in sugar—couldn't he hire a normal person to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts? I'm going to have my father fire that idiot!"
Draco stalked past Adam and the others with his cronies, cursing under his breath, though he did not seem to notice them at all.
Watching his retreating figure, Adam sighed sympathetically.
"Poor kid."
Whatever Draco had imagined performing onstage would be like, the result of sharing the stage with Lockhart was that all the flattering, heroic moments went to the other man, while Draco, playing the Wan Lun Banshee, had been forced to shriek and flee in panic.
"Seriously, are all our upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts classes going to be like this?"
Klon looked thoroughly miserable.
"I'm afraid so, unless..."
Uther glanced at Adam.
Unless Adam sent him to the Hospital Wing again. But that was clearly impossible. The first time, Lockhart had gone too far himself. If it happened again, the professors would not let it slide.
At Hogwarts, Klon was far from the only one who felt that way.
People died from comparison, and goods got thrown out from comparison. After being taught by a Dark wizard master, a dueling champion, a Transfiguration expert, and a walking encyclopedia of magical creatures and plants, even Lockhart's most devoted fans could no longer force themselves to say Professor Lockhart taught well.
"Professor Lockhart knows so many things. It's understandable if he isn't very good at teaching."
"If he isn't good at teaching, then he shouldn't be a professor."
Hearing arguments like that, Adam could not help wondering whether taking Lockhart offline for half a month had actually, to some extent, preserved Lockhart's image in his fans' hearts.
"What exactly do you like about Lockhart?"
One weekend, Adam took that