Don't Strut Like Lockhart

A fire that brooked no refusal burned in Mrs. Weasley's warm eyes.

Douglas felt that if he looked at them for another second, their heat would melt him.

His original plan had been to find a corner in the Leaky Cauldron and stay there.

Percy clearly had no interest in shopping either, a hint of polite awkwardness on his face.

The two walked side by side, Percy's slightly excited account drifting through the air.

"...Then Fred and George dropped a fire salamander outside the Slytherin Common Room and nearly started a war between the houses..."

Percy did most of the talking while Douglas listened, occasionally nodding, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

Just as they passed Flourish and Blotts, they found the street ahead completely blocked by a wall of people.

An enormous banner hung across the bookshop's second-floor windows, its purple lettering glittering in the sunlight.

[Gilderoy Lockhart signing copies of his autobiography, "Magical Me," today, 12:30-4:30 p.m.]

The crowd consisted almost entirely of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age, their faces unnaturally flushed and their eyes shining with fervor.

A wizard whose face looked drained of all vitality stood at the door, mechanically repeating himself.

"Ladies... ladies... please keep quiet, and don't push..."

His voice was swallowed by the tide of excitement, like a pebble tossed into the sea.

Douglas's gaze passed over the bobbing heads and picked out a familiar figure with precision.

Slane was standing on tiptoe, peering intently into the shop.

With Percy in tow, Douglas slipped into the crowd like a slippery loach.

He rested a hand lightly on Slane's shoulder, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I thought you'd be in your office right now, battling piles of manuscripts."

Slane stiffened abruptly. When he turned and saw Douglas, he immediately put on an exaggerated expression.

"How could I? This is a once-in-a-lifetime learning opportunity. Who knows? Perhaps one day I'll get to bask in your glory and organize a signing for you."

He tipped his chin toward Lockhart and lowered his voice.

"See that man called Jarvis beside Lockhart? His editor... Though, come to think of it, I thought you hated this sort of bustle more than anything."

Slane looked Douglas up and down, then changed tack.

"It's good for you to take a look too. Get some experience in advance. I'd bet that if you held a signing, it would be a hundred times grander than this..."

"You have no idea how your readers... Hmm? What's wrong?"

Although Slane had spoken those last few words very quietly, Percy's ears still caught the crucial information as though they had been enchanted with Sonorus.

Meeting Percy's astonished eyes, Douglas immediately raised a hand, cutting off any further coaxing from Slane.

He cleared his throat and introduced them.

"This is my good friend, Mr. Slane."

"And this is Percy, one of the Weasley children."

But Percy's brain had clearly stopped working, and he ignored social etiquette altogether.

He stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"You write books too, boss? What are they called? Why have I never heard of them?"

"Boss?"

At that form of address, Slane raised his eyebrows high, gave Douglas an amused look, and even winked at him.

He was definitely doing this on purpose.

Douglas rolled his eyes inwardly. Slane always managed to push right at the boundaries of their contractual terms.

He wanted to reveal Douglas's identity through this sort of "accident" to fulfill his ambition of holding a "signing of the century."

If I'd known, I should have made him take an Unbreakable Vow back then.

Still, Douglas did not really take it to heart.

In the past, he had worried that too much fame would attract the attention of a certain newly resurrected Dark Lord ahead of time.

But now, he was already a professor at Hogwarts.

A confrontation with Voldemort was only a matter of time.

Provided, of course, that he could save up those ten thousand points before the end of the school year and lift that damned curse.

Douglas lowered his head, met Percy's inquisitive gaze, and said with a smile:

"This isn't the place to talk. I'll have Slane send you a complete set of my books later."

He paused, then added.

"I imagine Bill and Charlie never gave you their copies. But remember to keep this a secret for me."

With that, Douglas raised his head and looked past the crowd at the man surrounded by enormous photographs of himself.

Percy stood rooted to the spot as an absurd thought exploded in his mind, only for him to forcefully suppress it.

Impossible.

He remembered perfectly clearly that when those books had first appeared, Douglas should only have been in his first or second year...

But then he remembered that Bill and Charlie did indeed have two identical sets of books, their covers worn.

He had even borrowed them to read. Later, when they left home, they had taken the books along as though they were treasures.

For leisure reading, they had claimed.

The Lockharts in the magical photographs winked at the crowd in perfect unison, showing gleaming white teeth.

The man himself wore forget-me-not-blue robes that perfectly complemented his cornflower-blue eyes.

Douglas nudged Slane with his elbow.

"Do you think I'd look good if I turned into that?"

Slane turned his head, examined Douglas as though appraising a work of art, and asked in return:

"Do you think you wouldn't?"

Douglas instantly decided to keep his pen name under wraps for a few more years.

He had no desire to end up a male peacock, strutting around with his tail spread everywhere.

Turning away, he squeezed back into the crowd, bought a complete set of first-year textbooks at the bookshop counter, then quickly retreated.

Looking at the books in his hands, Slane grew curious.

"Who are those for?"

Before Douglas could answer, Percy let out a startled, questioning cry.

"Boss, those aren't for Ginny, are they? You lied to Mum?"

Douglas deposited the heavy stack of new books in Percy's arms, then patted his shoulder earnestly.

"Young man, it seems you've forgotten all those little stories I used to tell you."

"This isn't deception. It's a well-meaning adjustment, so the other person can accept a gift without feeling guilty. Don't let it slip later."

Beside them, Slane gave a disdainful snort.

"A politician's trick. Don't go corrupting a good boy."

He looked Douglas up and down, muttering under his breath.

"No wonder you can write those things. You certainly know a lot. Your talents are wasted if you don't become Minister for Magic..."

Just then, Mrs. Weasley finally appeared at the edge of the crowd, hurrying anxiously toward them with Ginny by the hand.

From the other direction, Arthur Weasley was approaching from the Leaky Cauldron with a reserved-looking couple.

Douglas waved to Slane in farewell.

"I'm off. Carry on observing and learning."

With Percy, he squeezed out against the flow of people.

The moment Mrs. Weasley saw them, she "dumped" Ginny on them, turned to pull a copy of "Magical Me" from a shelf, and plunged resolutely into the signing queue.

Percy casually placed the books in his arms into the large cauldron Ginny was carrying.

Arthur and the couple came over as well.

"Hi, Douglas! Finished your business? I've been wanting a proper chat with you. Mr. and Mrs. Granger have just been telling me all sorts of things about how Muggle cars are built. Absolutely marvelous!"

Before Douglas could speak, Ginny had already lifted the cauldron to show her father, as though presenting a treasure.

"Dad, look! Professor Holmes gave me a set of new textbooks!"

Percy promptly added:

"Oh, Dad. Mum invited the boss over for dinner tonight to celebrate him becoming a Hogwarts professor."

Mr. Weasley was not surprised by his son's peculiar form of address; he had heard it at The Burrow.

His gaze fell on the brand-new textbooks in the cauldron, and hearing that his wife had already made arrangements, he immediately nodded several times.

"Of course, of course! That's wonderful!"

At that moment, Mr. Granger, one of the couple who had remained silent beside them, spoke cautiously.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. Mr. Weasley just said you're... a professor at Hogwarts?"

Mr. Weasley slapped his forehead in realization.

"Oh, what a memory I've got! I forgot to introduce you."

He gestured enthusiastically at Douglas.

"This is Hogwarts' new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Douglas Holmes."

Then he turned to the other side.

"And these are Mr. and Mrs. Granger, the parents of that Miss Granger we saw outside Gringotts earlier. They're Muggles..."

Arthur knew Douglas's background, so he spoke that last sentence without any reservations.

Looking at the couple trying hard to appear composed in the magical world, Douglas gave a playful wink, his voice gentle and humorous.

"Hello. No need to be nervous."

"As it happens, I'm Muggle-born too, just like your daughter, Miss Hermione Granger."

Mr. and Mrs. Granger's tense shoulders relaxed at once.

Despite Mr. Weasley's enthusiastic company throughout their journey, they could still feel the less-than-friendly, appraising looks certain wizards cast their way.

When they heard that the young professor before them had, just like their daughter, entered the magical world from the ordinary one and achieved so much.

An immense sense of warmth and security enveloped them.