Hold It In-No, I Can't! (Please Keep Reading)

Lockhart stood up and pushed through the crowd. "Make way, please. Let me through."

He came rushing over, brimming with excitement and enthusiasm.

The greed, longing, and burning desire in his eyes were almost tangible, hot enough to scorch skin.

He reached out to grab Harry by the arm and pull him into his embrace.

Harry took a step back, leaving Lockhart clutching at empty air.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, looking at him coldly.

Just as Professor Flitwick had said.

He was a complete fraud.

His perfume reeked, and his magic was pitifully weak.

He was hardly any better than the wizard Harry had dealt with in Hogsmeade, the one who only knew how to steal money from young wizards.

That look from Harry doused Lockhart's enthusiasm like a bucket of cold water. He composed himself and flashed a dazzling smile. "Exceptional wizards are always drawn to one another, aren't they?"

"Come along, Harry. Let's take a picture and commemorate this great moment, brought about by destiny!"

Harry's expression was cold and resistant. "The destiny you're talking about is that, ever since Hogwarts sent its owl with the letter, you've been holding signing sessions nonstop."

"And you even had a few people keep an eye on me, so they could report to you the moment I showed up?"

Lockhart's face stiffened. He gave a couple of dry laughs. "You really are a proper Gryffindor. What a sense of humor!"

Harry walked closer to him.

Thinking Harry had changed his mind, Lockhart reached for the photographer behind him.

Suddenly, his kidney went cold.

Something pressed against him, sharp enough to sting his skin.

He looked down.

It was a kitchen knife, its tip honed to a fine edge.

"Professor Flitwick told me a few things about your past," Harry said calmly, watching him. "Do you want me to discuss them with you here?"

Lockhart froze, his voice dropping to a fearful whisper. "What are you going to do?"

A knife!

What was wrong with this young wizard? Why was he carrying something so dangerous?

And holding it against his side, too.

Was he going to kill him?

"We're just here to buy textbooks. Carry on with your signing, and leave me out of it, all right?" Harry said softly. He pressed the knife a little harder, and its tip pierced Lockhart's robes.

"Of course," Lockhart said quickly, nodding.

Harry immediately pulled the knife back.

Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief. His body went limp, and he staggered twice before managing to stay upright.

"He really was waiting for you," Hermione said in surprise, hurrying to Harry's side and lowering her voice. "But how could he? He shouldn't need to..."

She hadn't finished speaking when Lockhart quickly returned to his original state, holding forth to the onlookers. "Our Chosen One is a shy little boy."

"He doesn't want to be seen on camera. What a pity."

The onlookers, especially the women, let out a chorus of disappointed sighs. They'd noticed that Potter was handsome, too, with a wild beauty Lockhart didn't have.

If only they could see him in the papers more often, and look at more pictures of him.

"But—" Lockhart drawled. "I have some incredibly wonderful news to share with you."

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart, internationally renowned..." He rattled off his long list of overblown titles, grinning smugly, his teeth gleaming. "Am honored to have received an invitation from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Starting this school year, I'll be serving as Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"

"I'll make sure our little Chosen One, Gryffindor's little Lion King, learns how to become a proper, charming wizard."

Inside the shop.

Harry couldn't hold back. He drew his wand. "Relaxation Charm!"

A flash of red shot out.

It hit Lockhart squarely. The "charming wizard," whose list of titles was longer than Dumbledore's name, had no chance to defend himself. His legs buckled, and he stumbled to the floor.

He didn't realize it was the effect of a spell. He thought Harry had frightened him, and hurriedly made up an excuse.

"Harry!" Hermione gave a small gasp as she watched it happen.

Harry remained expressionless and put his wand away. "Sorry. I couldn't hold back."

"He is a bit over the top," Hermione sighed. Seeing that no one outside had come in to complain and that they were merely fussing over Lockhart, she relaxed. "I didn't expect him to be like that..."

"Just like a Muggle celebrity."

Harry sighed along with her. "This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts class is going to be another disaster. I'm starting to think Professor Snape really did stuff a bezoar into Dumbledore's brain."

"Harry!" Hermione corrected him. "You can't talk about Professor Snape like that."

She also thought Dumbledore's choice was questionable.

They finished buying their books, then went to the pet shop to buy Hedwig the best owl food. Hedwig disdained it; it was nowhere near as good as Petunia's.

She pecked Hermione a few more times before finally accepting it.

They sat outside the ice cream parlor and waited for Ron.

Harry casually flipped through one of Lockhart's books. When he came across a passage, he looked surprised. "It seems our Professor Lockhart isn't entirely a fraud?"

Hermione looked puzzled. "Hm?"

"Look at this part." Harry pointed to the passage and read aloud. "Werewolves who transform on the night of a full moon lose their reason and attack those around them."

"But dear readers, you must remember that the silver bullets trusted by the Muggle world cannot kill them."

"I, charming and handsome..." Harry paused and skipped over that part. "There is one way to temporarily control a werewolf: the Hominivicus Charm. It can force a werewolf to return to human form."

"Of course, your magic has to be stronger than theirs, and after casting the spell, you mustn't let the werewolf see the moon again."

Hermione hesitated. After losing her trust in Lockhart, she found it difficult to believe him again. "That sounds incredible."

"I'll ask Professor Flitwick when we get back." Harry closed the book and turned around, looking over his shoulder. "Ron, your footsteps are too loud. If you want to play a prank, you should ask your brothers for advice."

Behind him, Ron had been sneaking up with an excited grin, ready to startle Harry. Instead, Harry startled him, and he landed on his backside. "Oh, your ears are too sharp!"

"I was walking as quietly as I could..."

Harry closed the book. "What took you so long?"

"Harry, Hermione, you should've come with us to Flourish and Blotts," Ron said excitedly as he sat down in another chair. "My dad and Malfoy got into a fight!"

"Mr. Weasley has a habit of picking on children, too?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Not Draco Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy—the old Malfoy." Ron waved his arms as he described what had happened. "My dad really beat him up!"

"A left hook..."

Hermione waved a hand and sighed. "Today's luck has been terrible. Harry almost beat up Lockhart, too."

"Really?" Ron grew even more excited. "Why only almost? That fraud..."

"I actually cast a spell," Harry corrected him. "He just didn't notice, so it never turned into a fight."

"He's so... flashy."

"He wanted to use my name to get attention—or rather, to get even more famous."

Hermione mimicked him sarcastically. "I'll make sure Harry learns how to become a proper, charming wizard."

Ron stared at her.

"He hasn't even thought about how to be a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Hermione tapped the table lightly. "One book costs five Galleons, and it's full of him bragging about himself. What a waste."

The mention of money reminded Harry of something. "Hermione, what's the exchange rate for Galleons at Gringotts?"

"Five to one," Hermione replied casually. "Why do you ask? It's not as if you're short on Galleons."

"If you exchange twenty pounds for me, would I owe you four Galleons?" Harry took out his wallet and counted out four gold Galleons.

Hermione shook her head, blushing a little. "No, I still have enough money. I'll just have to buy fewer extra books, but I have Mrs. Potter's notes, so I..."

Harry interrupted her. "I borrowed twenty pounds from Uncle Vernon. I have to pay him back."

"Ah, oh..." Hermione opened her mouth, then nodded awkwardly. "I see. Then I'll send you the money when I get home."

Hedwig flew over to Hermione's head in annoyance and started pecking her again.

They sat in the ice cream shop until the afternoon, then went their separate ways.

Ragnuk had also finished making the leather armor.

Though the old Goblin wasn't quite right in the head, his craftsmanship was beyond reproach. Of all the blacksmiths Harry had seen, he was the most skilled.

Troll skin wasn't pretty, but mixed with silver and iron, it took on a dull, dark gray sheen, with rippling patterns like water.

It was also comfortable to wear.

"This is my finest work!" Ragnuk said proudly. "Make sure you put it to good use."

He busied himself at the forge, keeping the fire going.

"Harry, are you really going to let him keep using the forge?" Professor Flitwick asked with some concern. "At first, I didn't think much of it, but over the past month, he's somehow gathered a whole pile of ore..."

Harry reassured him. "Don't worry, Professor. I've already made arrangements with Ron."

"Once the holidays are over, the Ministry of Magic will go and confiscate his home."

Flitwick nodded. "Oh, that's a very good idea."

"He won't be arrested by the Ministry, will he?" Harry asked with some concern. Ragnuk was so useful; it would feel like a loss if he only did one job for him.

"He won't," Flitwick said, shaking his head. "He's... well, a descendant of the Goblin King. The Ministry of Magic wouldn't dare do that."

Harry was relieved. "That's good."

There were only two weeks left before school started.

Harry urged Professor Flitwick to train him even more strictly.

From four or five in the morning until ten at night, Flitwick felt that his own skills had improved for the first time in ages. He wasn't just training Harry; he was training himself, too.

September 1.

Hedwig was kept busy. She had to send a letter to Ron, telling Mr. Weasley to burn his bridges.

Then she had to send a letter to Vernon, returning the money and the kitchen knife, and reminding Petunia to make two pounds of owl food. Only after all that did she chase after the train and return to Harry.

The start of school was different this year.

Besides Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were at the station, along with... Lockhart, wearing a bright purple outfit and his signature smile.