Hogwarts: I'm Truly a Model Wizard

After leaving a muggle district, less than an hour had passed, yet the time seemed to fly by. The group made their way toward Flourish and Blotts.

But today was a special day, and it wasn't just them heading to the bookstore. A sizable crowd had gathered outside the relatively small shop, each person doing their best to squeeze through the door.

"Why are there so many people here today?" Harry asked, staring in astonishment as he tried—and failed—several times to push his way in.

"Maybe Flourish and Blotts is giving away free candies," Kyle said with a smirk.

"Really?" Ron's eyes lit up hopefully.

"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed, tapping his arm in exasperation. She then pointed eagerly at the window above. "Look up there…"

A large banner was unfurled across the window, reading:

Gilderoy Lockhart, signs copies of his autobiography "Magical Me"...

"We can meet him in person!" Hermione exclaimed, unable to hide her excitement. "I mean, he wrote almost all the books on the reading list!"

"But how are we going to get in?" Harry muttered, rubbing his sore arm. "Those people are so strong."

"That's easy…" Kyle cleared his throat, then shouted loudly, "Mr. Lockhart, what are you doing here!"

For a split second, the crowd froze, glancing around in confusion to locate Lockhart. Kyle and the others seized the opportunity to slip through the crowd and make their way to the door.

"Nice one, Kyle," Harry said with a grin.

"It was nothing," Kyle shrugged. "I was actually considering shouting 'Voldemort'—that would've cleared the place in seconds."

"Please, don't even think about it," Ron shuddered, looking pale. "That would cause chaos."

"I know, that's why I didn't," Kyle laughed. "But, Ron, you really should try to get used to the name."

"Loads of adult wizards still struggle with it…" Ron muttered under his breath. "It's not just me. Well, except you and Harry."

They joined the winding line that stretched from the door to the back of the bookshop, where Gilderoy Lockhart sat, signing copies of his book. Each of them grabbed a copy of Break with a Banshee and slipped over to join the queue with the Weasleys and the Grangers.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, brushing her hair out of her face. "We're nearly at the front…"

And soon enough, they got their first glimpse of Gilderoy Lockhart. He sat behind a desk, surrounded by large, enchanted photographs of himself, all of which flashed brilliant smiles at the crowd, his teeth gleaming unnaturally white. Lockhart himself wore pale blue robes and a jaunty wizard's hat perched on his perfectly coiffed blond curls.

"He's so charming…" Mrs. Weasley murmured, standing on tiptoe like an adoring fan.

"Yes…" Mr. Granger agreed with an amused smile, "quite charming indeed. Look at that hair! I wonder what brand of toiletries he uses… can you buy them around here?"

Kyle chimed in, "Try the magic shop across from Ollivander's. I'd recommend Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. One of our professors has boxes of it at home but hardly ever uses it."

"If even a professor finds it too precious to use, it must be expensive…" Mr. Granger said, frowning thoughtfully.

"Oh, it's not that pricey. You can get a large bottle for just a few Sickles," Kyle assured him.

Mr. Granger touched his thinning hair, looking slightly tempted. "Thank you, young man," he said. "You must be Kyle—Arthur and Molly told me about you. And Hermione often mentions you, too. She says you're the smartest young wizard at Hogwarts."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Kyle said modestly. "I just spent the time others used for fun on reading instead."

Harry and Ron, overhearing this, glanced at each other and looked away, feeling slightly self-conscious—they knew they were the "others" Kyle was referring to.

But Harry had another question on his mind. He stepped closer to Kyle, hesitantly asking, "That shampoo you mentioned… was it…"

"Yes, it was originally your family's, the Potters'," Kyle confirmed, "but it was sold off ages ago. It has nothing to do with your family anymore."

Harry's face fell slightly, and he walked back to join Ron, looking disappointed.

"What's up with you?" Ron asked, noticing Harry's expression.

"Nothing," Harry murmured, shaking his head. For a brief moment, he'd thought he might have some connection to his family, perhaps even a relative still out there, but it had been a fleeting hope.

"Move aside!" a short, impatient man with a large black camera pushed past Ron, grumbling, "Make way—this is for The Daily Prophet!"

"Oh, big deal," Ron muttered, rubbing his foot where the man had stepped on it.

Lockhart, noticing the commotion, looked up and spotted Ron—and then, more importantly, Harry. He stared at Harry for a moment, his eyes widening with excitement before he leapt to his feet, exclaiming, "By Merlin's beard, if it isn't Harry Potter!"

The crowd gasped, making way as Lockhart made a beeline for Harry, obviously eager to pull him into a photo-op.

In a flash of panic, Harry's mind, desperate to escape what felt like social doom, suddenly sparked with a surprising burst of quick thinking.

"Kyle's behind you!" Harry shouted, grasping at a quick way out.

"Could it be… Kyle, the recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class?" Lockhart's eyes widened in delight as he turned eagerly in the direction Harry pointed.

But instead of Kyle, there were only two middle-aged men and an overly enthusiastic witch waving at Lockhart.

Harry froze. Where was Kyle? He'd been right there just a second ago, but now he had vanished without a trace.

"Ah, I suspect the young man slipped away, overwhelmed by meeting someone of my stature," Lockhart proclaimed, flashing his signature dazzling smile. "As you might know, I've won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times."

Harry, however, was unimpressed. The "Most Charming Smile" didn't seem nearly as prestigious as an Order of Merlin. Besides, Kyle had spent time with Nicolas Flamel, one of the most legendary wizards of all time—why would he be nervous about meeting Lockhart?

Kyle must have ducked out because he didn't want to be in the photo, Harry thought. He felt the urge to follow suit, but Lockhart was too quick for him. Even without Kyle, Harry Potter alone was enough for a front-page scoop.

Before he knew it, Lockhart had pulled Harry forward, clutching his hand like an old friend as the photographer snapped away. The short photographer fired off shot after shot, purple smoke from the flash filling the air and wafting toward the Weasley family.

The applause of the crowd and the nonstop flashes from the camera left Harry flustered, his cheeks growing redder than Ron's hair. Despite the commotion, one thought stuck in his mind: How had Kyle slipped away so fast?