Chapter 175: Phony Professor
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After giving the gifts to the girls, Harry's smile turned mischievous. "So, have you two finished your homework?" he teased.
Both girls rolled their eyes. "Yes, Professor Potter," Tracey said in mock seriousness. Over the summer, Harry had challenged them to modify some basic spells they learned during their first year. He had already helped them enhance the Lumos and few other spells at school, but he tasked them with experimenting on their own over the holidays.
"Good to hear," Harry chuckled. "Can't wait to see what you've come up with."
As they sipped their drinks, the conversation turned to their upcoming year at Hogwarts. "I've heard this year is going to be even more challenging," Daphne mentioned, stirring her tea thoughtfully.
Tracey leaned in closer and lowered her voice, "Hey, hey, Harry. Have you heard about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" She glanced around cautiously before continuing, "It's Gilderoy Lockhart."
Harry's expression turned into a frown when he heard the name. Over the summer, he had stumbled upon a collection of Lockhart's books. Initially intrigued by the author's fame, Harry's excitement had quickly turned to skepticism. The tales in Lockhart's books were filled with inconsistencies and unbelievable claims that seemed more fiction than fact. Realizing the stories might be exaggerated, Harry had become less enthusiastic about the so-called exploits of Lockhart. Since Lockhart was just a small part of the Wizarding World, he wasn't too bothered by it. But when he heard that Lockhart would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Harry's frown deepened, catching the attention of Daphne and Tracey. "What is it?" Daphne asked, noticing his change in expression.
"I think he's a phony," Harry said cautiously, not wanting to sound too harsh but feeling the need to be honest.
Tracey gasped, "What? Why? He's super famous!"
Daphne nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Harry. Both girls seemed to hold a trace of admiration for the famed author, a sentiment Harry didn't share. He saw the unspoken thoughts flitting through their minds and sighed internally. His reluctance to engage with Lockhart was partly due to the man's overwhelming fame, which Harry found superficial and unwarranted.
Another reason for his hesitance was the inevitable comparisons that would arise between his own fame and Lockhart's. Harry was well aware of the wizarding world's penchant for gossip and didn't want to add fuel to any rumors of jealousy or rivalry.
"Look, it's not just a hunch," Harry tried to explain, keeping his tone neutral to avoid sounding too critical. "His stories are a bit too... grand to be true. And coming from someone who's actually had to deal with real dangers, they don't quite add up."
Tracey seemed surprised by this take. "But his books are so detailed, Harry! And the pictures!"
Harry shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Photos can be staged. And as for details, anyone can write a good story if they've got enough imagination. It doesn't mean it really happened."
Daphne was initially perplexed by Harry's doubts about Lockhart. She knew of the man's widespread acceptance in the magical community, his honorary membership in the Dark Force Defence League, and his receiving of the Order of Merlin, Third Class. Could Harry perceive something that most of Magical Britain missed? While unsure, Daphne chose to trust her friend. "If you say so, Harry, I believe you."
This declaration took Harry by surprise and left Tracey visibly shocked. "Really?" she blurted out.
Daphne nodded with a reassuring smile. "I trust Harry's instincts."
Grateful for her support, Harry responded, "It's just a feeling I have, and I could be wrong, but if he's not as competent as he claims, we could waste a whole year. Let's just make sure he can actually do what he says he can."
Tracey, still a bit skeptical, agreed reluctantly. "Okay, but I still think his books are exciting."
Harry chuckled, "Exciting, sure. But let's hope his teaching is more than just a good story."
As they finished their tea, Harry steered the conversation towards their upcoming year at Hogwarts. They discussed classes, professors, and the usual Hogwarts mysteries. The talk of Lockhart faded into the background as they focused on the immediate excitement of returning to school.
Their meeting concluded with plans to catch up again once they were all back at Hogwarts. After saying their goodbyes, Harry left the Leaky Cauldron.
Returning to Gringotts, Harry found Grimbletack waiting for him. "Back so soon, Mr. Potter?" Grimbletack smirked. Harry, with a helpless smile, slid a paper across the desk. The goblin's frown deepened as he read the name on the document: Gilderoy Lockhart.
Lockhart, a young and famous wizard, had a vault at Gringotts filled with gold accumulated over the years from his book sales and speaking engagements. "I believe he might be fabricating his achievements, and I want to find evidence. Can Gringotts help with this?" he asked, his tone serious yet hopeful.
Grimbletack pondered the implications. Helping Harry could lead to discovering a fraud, which would be scandalous for the wizarding community but wouldn't necessarily mean a loss of gold for the bank, unless the situation required Lockhart to pay fines or return earnings. "If he's merely writing fiction, he'd likely face some penalties and lose his honorary titles, but most of the gold would stay. It's a delicate matter," Grimbletack mused aloud.
"Not looking to cause trouble unnecessarily," Harry assured him. "Just want to ensure our year isn't wasted with a charlatan for a teacher if it turns out he's lying."
Grimbletack nodded slowly. "I understand, Mr. Potter. We'll proceed discreetly. I'll deduct the fee for the investigation from your vault."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Thank you. We'll discuss the warding spells for my home over owl correspondence then."
On his way out of Diagon Alley, Harry decided to stop by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He wanted to pick up some treats for his Aunt Petunia and Misty, who both had a sweet spot for the unique flavors of magical ice cream, and not forgetting a little something for Crookshanks as well. After making his selections, he called on Misty, and the two of them disappeared with a pop, reappearing back at the Evans household.
Harry was cautious about using the ring Nicolas Flamel had given him. The ring served as a Portkey back to Flamel's castle and Evans Household, but Harry was wary of its tracking capabilities. Although it was a direct link to his house, he preferred to keep it at a distance, tucked away unless absolutely necessary. For now, he acted as though he was unaware of any tracking charm, maintaining an air of normalcy.
Arriving home, Harry found Petunia in the backyard, dressed in a light summer outfit, her red hair dancing with the gentle summer breeze. He handed the ice cream and treats to Misty to serve, and joined Petunia for a chat, enjoying the calm of the afternoon.
"So, how was Diagon Alley? Anything new?" Petunia asked casually, accepting a bowl of ice cream from Misty and thanked with a smile.
"Always bustling," Harry replied. "Talked with Mr. Grimbletack and met with couple of friends— Thank you Misty."
Petunia nodded, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "And how are your friends? Daphne and Tracey, wasn't it?"
"They're good, excited for the new term. We're all looking forward to seeing what's in store this year at Hogwarts," Harry said, though his mind was partly on the concerns raised by Dobby's visit and his own doubts about Lockhart's credibility.
"I'm sure you'll have plenty to tell me once you're back for the holidays," Petunia said with a smile, clearly used to the magical tales Harry brought home each time.
"Yeah, though I hope it's more about schoolwork and less about any... unexpected adventures," Harry grinned, making a light reference to his past escapades, which were often far from ordinary.
Petunia laughed, "Well, just keep safe, Harry. That's all I ask."
"I will," Harry promised. He enjoyed these simple moments with Petunia, a stark contrast to their earlier years.
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