Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The surrounding witches murmured excitedly:

"Professor Lockhart!"

"He's going back to teach at Hogwarts?"

"I absolutely must get my sister transferred schools!"

Kane stood aside, watching the farce unfold with a blank expression.

Lockhart seemed to only then notice him, his eyes lighting up: "Oh! This young gentleman must be—"

He paused, clearly not recognizing Kane.

"Kane Malfoy," Kane said coldly.

"Malfoy! Of course!" Lockhart extended his hand warmly. "I mentioned your family's glorious history in my book, *Dancing with Werewolves*!"

Kane didn't reach out, but merely raised an eyebrow slightly: "Which chapter? Which page?"

Lockhart's smile froze for a moment.

But he quickly regained his confident demeanor: "Aha! Clever young man! This is a test of my memory!"

He lowered his voice mysteriously, "But let's discuss these details in class after school starts."

Dumbledore interjected at the opportune moment: "Giddro, I heard you've been researching vampires in Albania lately?"

This topic immediately perked Lockhart up: "Exactly! It was a truly thrilling experience!"

He began to recount how he single-handedly subdued an entire vampire horde, drawing gasps of amazement from the audience around him.

It must be said that the other party's storytelling skills were far superior to his spellcasting skills.

"...That's why I say, the most important thing in dealing with dark creatures is..."

Lockhart suddenly turned to Kane, "Young man, what do you think is most important?"

Kane looked Lockhart straight in the eye with his grey-blue eyes: "Strength, not stories."

The scene fell silent instantly.

Lockhart's smile became somewhat forced.

But she quickly regained her confident demeanor: "What a sharp point! But sometimes, experience is more important than brute force, isn't it?"

Just then, a house-elf rushed over and whispered a few words in Dumbledore's ear.

The old headmaster nodded: "I'm sorry, everyone, I have some things to take care of. Gilderoy, we'll discuss the teaching position another day."

Watching Dumbledore's departing figure.

Lockhart turned to Kane and lowered his voice, saying, "Young man, in the wizarding world, family background alone isn't enough. You need to learn..."

He made an exaggerated gesture, "Packaging yourself."

Kane's lips curled into a sarcastic smile: "Just like how you package those 'personal' adventure stories?"

Lockhart's expression froze for a moment, but he quickly regained his confident smile: "Ha! The Malfoy family's sense of humor! I love it!"

He had a feeling that this little wizard knew something.

He patted Kane on the shoulder. "Looking forward to seeing you in class when school starts!"

After saying that, he turned and walked toward a group of screaming witch fans.

They quickly basked in the joy of being adored.

Kane watched his retreating figure, a cold glint in his eyes.

How could such a fraudster become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?

What are Dumbledore's plans this year?

Kane was just about to leave this unpleasant social occasion.

A refreshing scent of moonlight and flowers wafted by.

Fleur Delacour was already standing beside him.

Her waist-length silver hair shimmered like pearls under the magic lantern.

"You dislike him."

She used a declarative sentence.

His blue-purple eyes swept over Lockhart, who was surrounded by witches in the distance.

"Why? Because he's a fraud?"

Kane did not answer immediately, but noticed a detail.

As Hibiscus approached.

The wine glasses in the hands of at least three male witches around them suddenly tilted.

The wine spilled onto the elegant robe.

She herself seemed to have long been accustomed to this influence, and not even her eyelashes trembled.

"Is Miss Delacour particularly interested in the inner thoughts of strangers?"

Kane took a glass of chilled lemonade from the waiter's tray, and a layer of frost immediately formed on the glass.

Hibiscus's red lips curved into a playful smile: "But you are quite the opposite."

She took half a step forward. "I've been observing you for ten minutes, Mr. Malfoy. While everyone else is cheering for Lockhart's tricks, you've remained completely indifferent, unable to discern anything from the other party."

Kane took a sip of lemonade, letting the tartness spread on his tongue: "Is Beauxbatons now teaching students to probe other people's minds at will?"

"A gift from the Veela bloodline." Hibiscus's fingertips lightly traced the rim of her wine glass.

The juice inside turns a deep blue, like the starry sky, when touched.

"Usually I can only sense emotional fluctuations, but you..."

"...Your mind is like a locked room."

Just then, a burst of exaggerated laughter interrupted their conversation.

Lockhart had somehow escaped the crowd of fans.

He strode towards them, his peacock blue robe gleaming dazzlingly with every movement.

"Merlin! Isn't this the jewel of Beauxbatons?"

Lockhart gave an exaggerated bow, his blond braid swinging across his chest with the movement. "Giddro Lockhart, it's an honor—"

His voice abruptly stopped.

When Fleur turned to face him, the “legendary wizard’s” pupils dilated noticeably, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

"Mr. Lockhart."

Hibiscus nodded indifferently, her tone completely different from when she had spoken with Kane.

"I...I met your maternal grandmother in Bulgaria last year!"

Lockhart stammered, his fingers unconsciously adjusting his already perfect bow tie.

"At the time, I was researching the magical properties of Veela and had even written a chapter titled 'The Dangerous Dancer Under the Moonlight'..."

Kane keenly noticed that Lockhart's right hand was trembling slightly.

This is a typical symptom of excessive exposure to Veela allure.

What's even more ridiculous is that this "defense against dark magic" was completely unaware that he was being controlled by his instincts.

Hibiscus had clearly noticed this as well.

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes, and she suddenly tucked a strand of silver hair behind her ear.

This simple action froze Lockhart in place as if he had been petrified.

The wine glass in his hand tilted at a dangerous angle.

"Professor Lockhart has such a deep understanding of Veela culture,"

"You must know about our tribe's 'Moonlight Pact' ceremony, right?" Hibiscus said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"Of course!" Lockhart's voice rose eight octaves. "I've personally participated three times!"

Kane almost choked on the lemonade.

The Veela Moon Oath is a secret ritual that is absolutely forbidden to be witnessed by outsiders.

Those who violate this rule will be subject to the most severe punishment.

A dangerous glint flashed in Fleur's eyes: "How interesting, because as far as I know, there has only been one ceremony open to the public in the last fifty years. And the only outsider present that day was Newt Scamander, the author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."