Chapter 93: The Fraud
Flourish and Blotts was a complete disaster today.
The air was thick with a suffocating mixture of cheap rose perfume, old parchment, and the excited sweat of hundreds of middle aged witches.
Tamara Riddle was pressed against the railing on the second floor. She wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, trying to preserve a little distance from the frenzied crowd around her.
"Gilderoy Lockhart signing and selling copies of his autobiography, Magical Me."
The enormous banner hung in the very centre of the bookshop, and the man printed on it was flashing that infuriating smile at everyone.
"Simply... disgusting."
Tamara looked away in revulsion, feeling as though her sense of aesthetics had just been assaulted.
She had only come to buy this term's textbooks, yet she had been forced to witness this zoo like farce.
"Tamara! You're here too!"
A familiar voice sounded beside her ear.
Hermione Granger forced her way through the crowd with difficulty, clutching a wobbling stack of new books. Her hair was even bushier than usual, and fine beads of sweat covered her forehead. Clearly, she had just fought a fierce battle to seize those books.
When she looked up and saw Tamara standing in the shadows, Hermione froze for a moment.
In this noisy, sweltering bookshop, Tamara looked entirely out of place.
Her pale skin seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Her clothes were not the least bit ruffled, and even her black eyes carried a chill that seemed able to calm a person instantly.
Hermione's breath caught for a second, and her cheeks inexplicably warmed.
"Are you here to buy Lockhart's books too?"
Hermione quickly shook off those strange thoughts and excitedly placed the stack of books on the railing. She pulled out a copy of Gadding with Ghouls as though presenting a treasure.
"Have you read this one? It's amazing! He writes in the book that..."
Hermione began chattering, so excited that she was almost pressing herself against Tamara.
Tamara frowned.
"...Mudbloods really haven't seen the world."
She snorted coldly in her heart, her body stiffening as she endured the sensation of Hermione's bushy hair brushing against her shoulder.
"Give it here."
Tamara spoke coldly, extending a hand.
Hermione was startled, then joyfully handed Gadding with Ghouls to Tamara, waiting expectantly for her evaluation.
In Hermione's heart, Tamara was an academic authority. If even Tamara approved of Lockhart, then it meant these books were truly masterpieces.
Tamara flipped through the pages carelessly.
Her eyes swept over the passages filled with flowery rhetoric and shameless self praise at astonishing speed.
A minute later.
"Heh."
A sneer full of mockery slipped from Tamara's throat.
"Where did you pick up this rubbish?"
Tamara closed the book and tossed it back to Hermione as if throwing away something filthy.
"Rubbish?"
Hermione's smile froze, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head.
"But... everyone says these are bestsellers..."
"Bestselling does not mean correct, Granger."
Tamara turned around, leaned back against the railing, and crossed her arms. A condescending aura of academic dominance instantly radiated from her.
"Use that brain of yours, the one that seems to do nothing but memorise books."
She pointed at the book in Hermione's arms.
"On page thirty two, he writes that he used a Sunshine Charm at midnight to banish a banshee."
"According to The Encyclopedia of Dark Creatures, a Bandon Banshee is a spiritual entity formed from resentment. Sunlight can indeed harm one, but only natural midday sunlight, imbued with a strong rhythm of life."
"A magical light source created at midnight is nothing more than a nightlight to a banshee. Apart from allowing it to see its prey more clearly, it has no banishing effect whatsoever."
Hermione's mouth fell open. She hurriedly flipped through the book to check.
Tamara gave a cold laugh and pulled out another book, Wanderings with Werewolves.
She rapidly turned the pages and pointed to a certain paragraph.
"In this chapter, he claims that he was searching for Yetis in the snowy mountains of Tibet on Halloween in 1986."
"Then, in this chapter..."
Tamara flipped to the latter half of the book.
"He claims that on that same Halloween, he cured a Muggle bitten by a werewolf in a phone box in Birmingham."
Tamara closed the book and looked at Hermione as if she were looking at a fool.
"Unless Gilderoy Lockhart has mastered the Time Turner, which is strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic, and was willing to violate the laws of time purely to write this ridiculous book..."
Tamara leaned in slightly, drawing closer to Hermione. Her voice was laced with mockery.
"Then he is simply a fraud who plagiarised other people's adventures and pinned them on himself."
"This... this..."
Hermione's hands began to tremble.
She was a little witch who worshipped logic and truth.
Before this, she had been blinded by Lockhart's flowery words and adventurous tales.
But now, after Tamara had pierced through that facade so sharply, those stories that had once seemed heroic instantly became jokes full of loopholes.
"So..."
Hermione looked up. The stars in her eyes had gone out completely, replaced by the anger of someone who had realised she had been deceived.
"He made it all up? He's a fraud?"
"Obvious, isn't it?"
Tamara shrugged.
"These so called adventures are most likely experiences he stole from some unlucky old wizards. Then he changed the protagonist's name and added a few clumsy embellishments."
"It could only fool ignorant, stupid wizards like you lot."
"Oh my goodness... you're right!"
Hermione snapped the book shut with an angry thud.
"This is a complete desecration of knowledge! I'm going to return these! I'm going to write to the Daily Prophet and expose him!"
Seeing Hermione's indignant expression, Tamara's mood improved slightly.
At least this Mudblood was not beyond saving.
Just then, an unprecedented wave of screaming erupted downstairs.
"It's him! He's here!"
Amid a burst of blinding camera flashes, a wizard in blue robes, with golden hair and his signature gleaming teeth, waved and strode onto the stage.
Gilderoy Lockhart had made his entrance.
While blowing kisses to the crowd, he precisely caught a soot covered Harry Potter, who was trying to hide.
"Harry Potter! Why, this must be destiny!"
Lockhart shouted loudly, firmly clutching Harry's arm and dragging him in front of the photographers.
"Smile, Harry! We're going to be on the front page!"
Harry struggled with a look of horror. His glasses were crooked, and he desperately looked up, just happening to spot Tamara and Hermione on the second floor.
He blinked frantically, begging for help.
"Oh, poor Harry..."
Hermione frowned, looking down at Lockhart, who was posing shamelessly. Her tone was full of sympathy and anger.
"That fraud doesn't care about Harry's feelings at all. He's just using Harry's fame to promote himself! This is disgusting. We have to go down and save him!"
Tamara leaned against the railing instead, playing with her wand, her eyes playful.
"Since he enjoys the flowers and applause brought by fame, he must also learn to endure the flies and clowns that come with it."
"That is the price of fame."
Lockhart's magically amplified voice echoed through the entire bookshop.
"Ladies! Gentlemen! What an honour!"
"I am not merely here for signings today. I have an even greater announcement to make!"
He paused, basking in the screams from the crowd.
"This coming September, I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will officially become Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts!"
"..."
The air on the second floor suddenly froze.
Hermione was still furious over being deceived, and hearing this news left her even more stunned.
"What? Let a fraud teach us?"
As for Tamara.
The moment she heard the words Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, her originally playful expression vanished completely.
In its place was a chilling gloom.
She stared fixedly at the man downstairs, who looked like a peacock spreading his feathers. Her fingers tightened violently around the railing.
Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.
That was the sacred position she, the former Tom Riddle, had once dreamed of obtaining, even going so far as to curse the post for it.
It was a position that should only be held by the most powerful, the most learned, and the most proficient masters of the Dark Arts.
Back then, Dumbledore had rejected her.
And now?
That old fool had actually given the position to such a useless third rate novelist and fraud?
This was an insult.
An insult to the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and an even greater insult to her, Lord Voldemort.
"Dumbledore... so this is how you insult me."
Tamara gritted out the name, the red light in her eyes nearly spilling over.
Hermione felt the sudden drop in pressure beside her.
She turned and saw Tamara's terrifyingly dark expression, shrinking back in fright.
"...Tamara? Are you all right?"
Hermione leaned closer worriedly, reaching out to tug gently at Tamara's sleeve.
"Your hands are shaking..."
Tamara took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the urge to rush downstairs and give Lockhart an Avada Kedavra on the spot.
"It's nothing."
Tamara's voice was as cold as if it had been dragged from an ice cellar.
"I only think..."
Tamara looked down at Lockhart, who was still posing, and a cruel sneer curled at the corner of her mouth.
"This term's Defense Against the Dark Arts class will certainly be very... interesting."
"I will make sure to give this new Professor a warm welcome."
Looking at Tamara's smile, Hermione suddenly felt a deep sense of dread for the yet to be appointed Professor Lockhart.
"So... should we go down?" Hermione asked softly. "Harry and Ron seem to be over there."
"Let's go."
Tamara turned and pushed a path through the crowd.
"Let's see whether our saviour has also been dazzled by this fraud."
"By the way..."
She narrowed her eyes.
"I should give this new Professor a little... meeting gift."
.....
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