The second class of the day was Transfiguration.
Professor McGonagall's instructions were simple: turn a beetle into a button.
This was material from the previous term, and just as she expected, most students had completely forgotten everything they'd learned over the summer.
Thankfully, Harry and Hermione still managed to complete the task effortlessly, which brought a little relief to Professor McGonagall.
Wherever you go, good students are always a teacher's favorite.
Near the end of class, Ron saw that even Neville had succeeded — although the button he created was bouncing around on the desk.
Panicking, Ron pointed his wand at the beetle and shouted a gibberish spell: "Grip it! Steel water tower!"
A puff of gray smoke erupted, followed by a stench like rotten eggs spreading across the classroom.
"Riiing—"
The lunch bell rang like a divine rescue.
Harry immediately grabbed Hermione and fled the classroom. "Is this going to become a biochemical lab?" he muttered.
Students filed out quickly. Ron, frustrated, began banging his wand on the desk.
Crack.
A small split appeared in the center of his wand.
Ron looked like he was on the verge of tears.
Neville walked up and said, "You didn't pronounce the spell right. It's supposed to be, 'My dad just knocked him out.'"
Ron couldn't care less whether the correct incantation was "Grip it" or "My dad." All he could think was: What am I going to do about my wand? If my family finds out, I'm dead meat…
After lunch, they walked out of the Great Hall into the courtyard. Thick clouds loomed overhead.
Harry sat on the stone edge of the fountain, not really feeling the heat.
Suddenly, Harry felt someone staring at him intently. Looking up, he saw a young boy from the Sorting Ceremony the night before, gazing at him like he was under a spell.
The boy clutched something in his hands — a Muggle camera. Upon realizing Harry was looking back, his face flushed crimson.
"H-Hi, Harry. I—I'm Colin Creevey," he stammered, stepping forward nervously. "I'm in Gryffindor too. I was wondering… would it be okay… if I took a picture with you?" he asked, lifting the camera with hopeful eyes.
"A photo?" Hermione blinked, recognizing the Muggle-style camera.
"So I can prove I met you," Colin said eagerly, inching closer.
"I know all about you. Everyone's told me! How you survived You-Know-Who… and how he disappeared… and your lightning-shaped scar—"
"One of my roommates said that if I use the right developing potion, the people in the pictures will move!" Colin added, trembling with excitement. "This place is amazing, isn't it? Before I got my Hogwarts letter, I had no idea those weird things I could do were magic. My dad's a milkman — he didn't believe it either! So I want to take loads of photos to send to him. If I could get one with you—" He looked pleadingly at Harry, "—maybe I could stand next to you? And your friend could take it? Oh, and could you sign it too?"
Harry frowned. Colin… Wasn't this the annoying kid who kept pestering him in the original story?
He asked calmly, "Colin, are both of your parents Muggles?"
"Yes," Colin nodded. "When I got my acceptance letter, they thought it was a prank!"
"You're lucky to be chosen for the wizarding world," Harry said, more serious now. "And I understand you want to share everything with your family. But if you focus on your studies and earn top marks in all your classes, I think your parents will be even more proud — more than any moving photo could make them."
Then he sighed dramatically. "I know I'm famous. I know I'm handsome. I know I ooze irresistible charm. I know tens of thousands of witches want to marry me... but don't be obsessed with me. Deep down, I'm just a regular wizard — one doing his humble part to make the magical world a better place."
"Don't waste your time chasing stars. Use it to shine yourself."
Colin looked pensive.
"Alright, let's take that photo," Harry suddenly smiled.
"You really mean it?" Colin jumped with joy.
"Just this once. Don't expect more."
"Awesome!"
Hermione took the camera with a mutter. "Why do I have to help you show off?"
Click—Click—Click.
She pressed the shutter over and over, venting her frustration.
That afternoon was Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
But Harry thought he belonged more in a circus than a classroom.
Before class began, Lockhart pulled Harry aside into a corridor to talk in private.
He adjusted his long green robes, clearly trying to look as elegant as possible.
With a smile, he said, "Hey, Harry! I should've spoken to you sooner."
He patted Harry's shoulder and added, "I heard you were handing out autographed photos today."
Harry's brow furrowed. What is with this guy?
"To be honest, that's not great," Lockhart continued smoothly. "I get it… The Famous Harry Potter wants to enjoy the admiration of a few impressionable young fans. I've been there myself — oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not bragging."
"But you're still young. Fame can be dangerous. I've seen many child prodigies crash under pressure. Nobody remembers them now."
"Of course, I'm not saying you shouldn't do anything. If you learn from me, one day you might need stacks of photos every time you step outside."
"Frankly, what you did today came off a bit arrogant," Lockhart added with a faux-sincere tone.
"I mean, I've been awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class… I'm an honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League… I've won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award five times — but I never brag!"
Then his eyes softened. "Harry, if you ever want to experience real fame, come to me. I can introduce you to society's elite. You'll be in magazines and newspapers in no time."
"I know you lost your father at a young age… If you don't mind… I mean, if you'd like someone to care for you… I could be like a father figure."
He looked sincere. Compassionate. Loving.
Harry didn't say a word. He just stared.
So this is who Lockhart really is?
Wow. What a complete moron.
He quietly drew his wand and lifted the arm Lockhart had draped over his shoulder.
Lockhart stepped back. "Alright, alright, I may have touched a nerve. But wands can be dangerous — let's put that away."
He said it with a smirk, still completely unfazed.
"You wouldn't believe the battles I've faced — werewolves, vampires… In fact, from the moment you raised your wand, I had at least a dozen ways to knock you down — but I didn't want to hurt you."
Harry couldn't even respond. This guy wasn't just an idiot — he must've had fertilizer for brains.
Pointing his wand at Lockhart, Harry muttered with pity, "You're seriously just a pig."
BANG!
Lockhart flew back several meters and collapsed, unconscious.
Harry turned on his heel and walked away.
Later, in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom:
The students were all seated when Lockhart finally entered. He cleared his throat loudly, quieting the room.
He glanced around proudly, locking eyes with Harry but showing no sign of remembering what had just happened.
He grabbed Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, which had Lockhart's winking face on the cover.
"I," he said, pointing at his own photo, also winking, "Gilderoy Lockhart, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award — though I don't brag about that — I don't fight banshees with a smile!"
He chuckled, thinking he was hilarious. No one laughed.
"I see you've all bought my books. Excellent. Today, let's begin with a little quiz. Don't worry — just to see how much you've absorbed."
He handed out the test and returned to the front of the room.
"You have thirty minutes. Begin!"
Harry flipped through the questions:
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
In your opinion, what is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
The whole quiz — three pages long — was full of this ridiculous self-praising nonsense.
The final question:
When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would be his ideal birthday gift?
Harry: "What... the... f—"
He grabbed the paper, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it straight into the waste bin by the podium — not caring one bit about Lockhart's sour expression.
-
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THE REBIRTH OF HARRY POTTER
⚡🦉 THE REBIRTH OF HARRY POTTER 🦉⚡
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📢 MAGIC REBORN! 📢
The Rebirth of Harry Potter has 100+ chapters ahead available on Patreon! ⚡📚
The wizarding world is changing.
Old destinies twist, familiar names return under new shadows, and magic itself may follow a different path this time.
🪄 A second chance.🌙 A different fate.⚡ A wizarding world reborn.
Discover the new path before public readers catch up.
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