Chapter 295: Conjectures
Gilderoy Lockhart found himself increasingly surprised—and increasingly intrigued.
He picked up the copy of Witch Weekly on the table and flicked through the pages. The cover, which usually bore his own handsome, beaming face, had been replaced by a mysterious silhouette. His expression flickered between jealousy and intense anticipation; he had originally thought that being Harry Potter's teacher would be his greatest claim to fame this year, but now he saw an even greater opportunity: the chance to be featured on a Chocolate Frog card.
Once I find that young wizard, what title will they give me? he wondered. Mentor to the Sage?
A smug, suggestive smile played across his lips.
Professor McGonagall watched the scene with a cold, piercing gaze. It wasn't until she had left the High Table that she cornered Dumbledore in a side corridor.
"Albus, I must ask again—why Lockhart? What can the students possibly learn from a man so utterly consumed by vanity and the thirst for fame?" Minerva's voice was thick with concern.
"Even from a poor teacher, students can learn much, Minerva," Albus Dumbledore replied, a deep, enigmatic smile touching his face. He spared a brief glance back at Lockhart. "For instance: what things not to do, and what kind of person not to become."
The tension at the High Table didn't trickle down to the students. Most were still looking forward to their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.
Except for Harry.
A very small, grey-haired boy was staring at him as if transfixed. The boy was clutching a device that looked remarkably like a standard Muggle camera. The moment Harry caught his eye, the boy's face turned a violent shade of scarlet.
"H-hello, Harry? I—I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a timid step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. Do you think—would it be alright—could I take a photo of you?" He held up the camera expectantly.
"A photo?" Harry asked, looking blank.
"So I can prove I've met you," Colin said fervently, scurrying a few steps closer. "I know everything about you. Everyone's told me. How you survived the Dark Lord, how he vanished... you've even still got the lightning scar on your forehead."
Colin took a deep breath, trembling slightly with excitement. "It's brilliant here, isn't it? I never knew the odd things I could do were magic until I got my letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman; he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking heaps of photos to send home to him. If I could just have one of you—" He looked at Harry imploringly. "—Maybe I could stand next to you and your friend could press the button? And then... could you sign it?"
He then turned his pleading eyes toward Sean, who was just about to leave the table. "Sir, would you mind helping us with the photo?"
Sean didn't refuse. With a casual flick of his wand, the camera levitated into the air, positioning itself perfectly. Colin quickly scrambled to stand next to Harry.
"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos now, Potter?"
Draco Malfoy's loud, drawling voice echoed through the hall. He had stopped just behind Colin, flanked by his two large, thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Don't make me laugh, Potter. The entire Wizarding World is waiting for a different photo, yet you dunderheads have the audacity to ask him to play photographer—honestly, everyone line up!" Malfoy shouted to the surrounding students. "Harry Potter is giving out signed photos!"
"I am not!" Harry snapped.
"You're just jealous," Colin piped up, though his entire frame was barely as thick as Crabbe's neck.
"Jealous? Don't be absurd," Malfoy sneered. "Why would I be jealous of people who have their eyes on the back of their heads and can't see who's actually worth following?"
His father had told him that "this Green" had a mysterious background, one so sensitive that even the Ministry of Magic was barred from investigating his records. Malfoy was convinced the boy was the descendant of an ancient, hidden Pure-blood family; there was no other way to explain his influence within the Ministry.
Everyone in Hogwarts is wrong! Malfoy thought. They think Green represents the Muggle-borns. Ha—pathetic!
In Malfoy's mind, Sean Green was the future leader of the noble Pure-bloods, a sovereign-in-waiting. It explained everything: Snape's unusual behavior, Dumbledore's favoritism, and Sean's own aura of effortless superiority.
Malfoy fancied himself the most astute wizard in the castle. He believed that some great Pure-blood families simply had grander, more global goals—much like the legendary acolytes who had once gathered atop high towers in distant lands. If Sean was part of that world, Malfoy could even bring himself to tolerate the "Muggle-borns" Sean chose to associate with as a mere political front.
"Your eyes are the ones that are crooked, Malfoy. Go eat a slug," Ron said crossly.
Crabbe stopped laughing and began cracking his knuckles menacingly, looming over Ron's group. However, when his eyes accidentally met Sean's calm gaze, he quickly looked away and began whistling a tuneless melody.
"Careful, Weasley," Malfoy jeered. "You don't want to get into any more trouble, or your mother will have to come and take you home." He adopted a high-pitched, screeching voice: "If you put another toe out of line—"
A group of fifth-year Slytherins nearby guffawed loudly.
While Harry and Malfoy engaged in their usual bickering, Malfoy's strange comments caught Sean's attention. He spared a glance at Malfoy, and to his surprise, the Slytherin boy looked almost flattered to be noticed.
Being found out is inevitable, Sean thought, but Malfoy's attitude is becoming increasingly bizarre.
"Count yourselves lucky—let's go!" Malfoy said, his sneer returning the moment he stopped looking at Sean.
As if receiving a silent signal, Malfoy turned and departed, leaving Harry's group fuming and confused.
"Master Draco, why are we leaving?" Goyle grunted, scratching his head.
"Goyle, your thick skull couldn't possibly comprehend the subtleties of power," Malfoy said in a lofty, melodic tone. "Some people appear to stand among the Muggle-borns, but their noble blood ensures their true allies will never be that filthy lot."
Back in the Great Hall.
Harry looked utterly baffled. "Malfoy just... said some weird things and walked away? Just like that?"
"The entire Wizarding World is waiting for a different photo," "asking him to take the photo"... it was too easy to guess who Malfoy was referring to. The real question was: how did Malfoy know?
"Ron, do you have any idea what Malfoy is playing at?" Harry whispered.
"I reckon he's just trying to stir up trouble, Harry," Ron whispered back. "But honestly, it's not exactly a state secret, is it? Look at Sean—no one in the school is more 'special' than he is. Malfoy was bound to figure it out eventually."
As the morning mist drifted through the castle grounds, Hogwarts was shrouded in an atmosphere of mystery and wild conjecture. Every student seemed to have their own theory.
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Inkshaper
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you