Hogwarts' Golden Glory

"But my godfather doesn't speak to Kane when they meet, so how could he possibly let Kane deliver it? And how could he possibly worship me?"

Ron was getting anxious too. "We've ruled out so many people! This isn't it, and that isn't it either!"

His freckles stood out starkly against his pale face. "It couldn't possibly be Snape, could it?"

The air froze instantly. Fred and George's quills fell to the ground with a comical "plop plop" sound.

"Impossible," Harry immediately denied. "He'd love for me to be expelled right now."

"But he's a Potions Master," Hermione said slowly, "and the ancient runes on this... look a lot like the kind he uses to grade papers..."

"And there's the SS abbreviation. You know, he even gave you a notebook for Christmas, Harry!"

Ron added, then shuddered as if startled by his own words.

"Merlin's pants! I actually spoke up for Snape!"

Upon hearing that Harry had received a gift from Snape, the twins grinned gossipy smiles and surrounded Harry.

Harry tucked his cufflinks deep into his robes, as if that would shut out the absurd conjecture.

As they hurried to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Ron was still rambling on, "Maybe it's Dumbledore? He always seems to send you some deadly gifts..."

Harry shook his head, because he had already asked Professor McGonagall.

We also have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class today!

Harry was really looking forward to this class because Sirius was the teaching assistant.

This is a good opportunity for him to ask about this.

The classroom door was just inches away, and Lockhart's booming laughter could already be heard from inside: "...so that's why I wrote in 'Walking with the Snowman'..."

Harry pushed open the door, and the sight before him almost made him think he had gone to the wrong place.

The originally gloomy classroom was transformed into an extravagant stage: the walls were covered with magical portraits of Lockhart in various poses, the ceiling was filled with the letters "G·L" spelled out by golden balloons, and even the desks were covered with tablecloths embroidered with Lockhart's smiling face.

"Ah! Our star student!"

Lockhart popped out from behind a pile of his own books, his blond hair gleaming in the candlelight. "Harry, my dear child, sit in the front row! I've saved a seat for you and—"

He glanced at Kane, who was still absent, and immediately changed his tune, "—You can sit here for now!"

Ron whispered in Harry's ear, "I'd rather go to Snape's class..."

Harry rolled his eyes at the other person, "If I really let you do it, you wouldn't be happy!"

Harry sat down stiffly and found a signed copy of Lockhart's latest work, "Dancing with Trolls," on his desk. On the title page, written in cursive script, were the words: "To my dear Harry, you will need this knowledge sooner or later."

As soon as he touched the cover, the book automatically turned to page 233.

Lockhart's voice drifted from the pages: "...I subdued the Hungarian wood wasp with a simple cleansing spell..."

"Merlin's stinky socks!" Ron covered his ears in anguish.

A loud yawn came from the back of the classroom.

Harry then remembered his godfather.

Sirius Black leaned lazily against the teaching aids cabinet, his black leather jacket clashing with the gold dust filling the room.

He twirled a small silver knife between his fingers, the blade creating subtle magical fluctuations with each slash of the air.

When he saw Harry, his grey eyes lit up, and he deliberately twirled the knife in a dangerous flourish.

"...Before class, I'll teach you how to sign autographs for your fans!"

Lockhart moved closer to Harry, brandishing his gold-rimmed wand, the tip spitting out meaningless pink heart-shaped sparks. "As mentioned in Chapter Five of my 'Guide to Handling Fan Letters'..."

Sirius suddenly whistled, the sound making Lockhart shudder.

"Giddro," he drawled, "Dumbledore invited me here to teach Defense Stance, not how to draw hearts on postcards."

Several Slytherin students chuckled.

"Dear Professor Black," Lockhart flashed his charming smile, "isn't it still before class starts?"

When the classroom door opened again, Lockhart was demonstrating to Harry how to draw a signature with gold powder using a quill pen.

Kane Malfoy silently slid into the classroom, the hem of his black robe still damp with dew from the greenhouse.

Draco followed behind him, his gold-rimmed glasses gleaming coldly in the candlelight.

"Ah! Our elegant Malfoy brothers!" Lockhart's voice suddenly rose, and he waved his wand, pointing to the first row.

"These seats are reserved especially for you! You should know that I wrote in my book, 'Dancing with Vampires'—"

"—'Always reserve front-row seats for purebloods'?"

Sirius Black suddenly interrupted, and a silver dagger slammed into the blackboard above Lockhart's head with a "thud."

"That's strange. I seem to remember the original text saying that 'vampires prefer to attack from behind'?"

Draco let out a sneer, but then stopped himself under Kane's warning glare.

Kane himself quietly took his seat, his slender fingers tracing the gold-embossed title of Lockhart's work on the table, a barely perceptible smile curving his lips.

"Ahem!" Lockhart abruptly changed the subject, his wand tip spraying out letters like fireworks.

"Welcome to Gilderoy Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts class! I am your professor—a five-time winner of The Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, a third-class honorary member of the Order of Merlin, and the author of 'Breaking Up with the Ghost'..."

Each time he mentioned a title, the corresponding magic certificate on the wall would light up.

Harry noticed that the date on one of the certificates had been clearly altered, and the trophy base for the "Most Charming Smile Award" was engraved with the word "Re-elected".

"...And this one," Lockhart suddenly pointed his wand at Sirius, who was leaning against the wall, his tone as if introducing a rare animal from a circus.

"He was Sirius Black, a famous alumnus of Azkaban! Although he never wrote any books—"

"—Unless you include the writing carved on the prison walls."

Sirius grinned, revealing the same mischievous expression as Harry.

Ron's face turned bright red as he tried to suppress his laughter.

Lockhart's smile froze on his face: "...Professor Black will assist us with some...uh...practical exercises."

He turned to Kane as if grasping at a straw, "Mr. Malfoy! I heard you perfectly replicated the Hinkpunk Banishing Charm I mentioned in 'The Magician Me'?"

Kane raised his eyelids, his voice as smooth as silk: "In fact, the spell on page 148 of that book is misspelled. The correct pronunciation should be 'Hink-Punk-Laviosa,' not 'Hink-Punk-Laviosa' as you wrote."

He deliberately emphasized the third syllable, and a silver-blue mist of light emanated from the tip of his wand—exactly the effect described in the book.

Lockhart's lips twitched slightly: "Y-Of course! That was a typesetting error by the publisher..."

"Like in 'Walking with Trolls' where 'dragon blood' was mistakenly printed as 'dragon fart'?"

Sirius lazily added, "I remember the chapter was called 'How to Subdue Monsters with Magical Scents'?"