[85] The Weight of Heroes

Harry wasn't annoyed by Hall and Ron answering twice in a row — but when he heard what Hall said, he was stunned. Hall was amazing. He knew everything.

"Dobby? What Dobby?" Ron shook his head like a fan, completely clueless.

"Hall, how did you know?" Harry asked. Dobby, though well-intentioned, was stubborn — he insisted Harry absolutely couldn't return to Hogwarts.

"A guess."

"Your guesses are so accurate. Hall is amazing." Harry was a little disappointed Hall didn't know Dobby, but still thought he was incredible.

"What did Dobby say?" Hall asked.

Harry's eyes were downcast. "He said Harry Potter can't go back to Hogwarts."

Hall was immediately filled with doubt, though he showed nothing. Why did Dobby go to Harry? Dobby had said that because he knew about the diary — but the diary had been properly disposed of. What went wrong?

"A house-elf told you not to go to Hogwarts?" Ron's eyes widened. "That's ridiculous. Harry, are you being fooled? I've never heard of a house-elf speaking to a wizard like that."

He frowned, trying to recall any house-elves he'd seen. The last one had been Kreacher of the Black family.

"Probably not," Harry shook his head. "If it wasn't a house-elf, Sirius would definitely recognise it."

"What did he say?" Hall pressed.

"He said Harry would encounter something very, very terrible." As Harry's voice trailed off, Ron leaned closer.

Just then, "Ha!" Harry suddenly yelled.

Ron jumped, letting out a terrified scream. "AAAAH! Hall, help!" He frantically took two steps back, searching for Hall.

"Pfft, hahahahahaha!" Harry laughed so hard he almost bent over.

Ron realised he'd been tricked. "Harry!"

Harry quickly stopped. "Ron, I didn't mean to. I just wanted to scare Hall, but he didn't fall for it." He spread his hands in disappointment.

Ron wrinkled his nose. "Harry, you've gone bad! You can't scare Hall like that!"

Hall shook his head, pondering Dobby's words. Could Malfoy be plotting something? But Malfoy's previous actions suggested he'd already decided to sever ties with Voldemort. The situation seemed fraught with inconsistencies.

"I never expected this — Harry Potter!"

A hand reached between them, grabbing Harry's arm and gripping tightly. The man looked Harry up and down as if to confirm something, then turned him around. "Smile brighter, Harry — maybe we can get on the front page."

He grinned, looking like a complete fool.

A flash of bright light illuminated the scene. Hall and Harry realised the man was posing for a photo.

They didn't need to ask who he was. His name was written all over the bookshop: Gilderoy Lockhart, author of his new book, My Magical Me.

After the photo, Lockhart faced the crowd, a radiant smile on his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, what an exciting moment! Our little Harry came to Flourish and Blotts this morning for my autobiography, My Magical Me. On the Daily Prophet's bestseller list, this book has been number one for twenty-seven consecutive weeks."

The book fans beamed with pride.

Hall suddenly understood why they hadn't seen Hermione — she was standing next to Mum, both clapping excitedly.

Hall covered his head. Ron gave him a slightly disgusted look.

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Lockhart continued. "When Harry came to buy books, he didn't know —" He turned, took a stack from his assistant, and shoved them into Harry's arms. "I'll give him my entire collection for free."

Amid cheers, Lockhart announced, "Alright, that concludes today's book signing. Oh, Harry, what a pity, but it was great to see you."

Harry looked at Hall pleadingly.

"What's the pity, Mr Lockhart?" Hall pulled Harry away.

Lockhart glanced at the boy, then at his own hands, thinking it was just his imagination. He clapped and put his hands behind his back. "I could have been your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. When Dumbledore contacted me, I was still travelling. We agreed to meet next semester — which is this semester. Now you know: Dumbledore chose his own student, rejecting someone as good as me."

Lockhart looked sad. "Otherwise, you could have learned more powerful magic from me."

Harry's brows drew together as he tried to argue Sirius's case.

Harry frowned, trying to argue that Sirius had earned his teaching position through merit. Though he'd only seen Sirius teach as an assistant, he believed Sirius was far more capable than Lockhart.

But Lockhart treated him like a child. He shook his head and began proudly recounting his achievements.

Hall summoned Ron and whispered a few words. Ron grinned wickedly, like a twin with a brilliant idea, then disappeared for a moment. When he reappeared, Harry was nearly in tears.

Lockhart wore an expression that said, "Forget it, he's just a kid," which infuriated Harry.

Ron picked up the items he was holding and threw three or four to the ground. With crisp thuds, fireworks slammed into the ground in front of Lockhart, exploding into multicoloured glitter before coalescing into a name.

"Voldemort!" Lockhart stammered, as if he might faint.

Hall stepped forward, concerned. "Mr Lockhart, are you alright?"

Lockhart's fingers trembled. "Didn't you see?"

"I saw it," Harry said casually, pleased to see Lockhart's terrified expression, even though he knew it wasn't right. Sirius wouldn't be paralysed by a mere name.

Arthur and the Daily Prophet reporter rushed over.

"What happened?" Arthur examined the three children. Relieved to find them unharmed, he turned to Lockhart, who had retreated to the doorway. "Mr Lockhart, are you alright?"

The glitter had vanished.

Lockhart forced an awkward laugh, backing away. "I'm fine. The book signing is over. I have to go." He stepped outside, glanced around, and dashed off.

Arthur looked down at the three children laughing and immediately understood. He pointed at them, shook his head, and said, "You three. Go choose your books for next term."

They covered their mouths, nodded, and ran off.

Hermione stood at the cashier. Hall noticed several new Lockhart books on her pile. She saw his gaze and quickly recommended, "I think you should take a look too. Mr Lockhart's life is fascinating — these are all based on his own experiences."

Hall, Ron, and Harry all shook their heads. Ron said with disdain, "We already have the whole set." He patted the thick stack in Harry's hands.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Can I borrow them, Harry? Mr Lockhart's books aren't cheap."

Harry handed them over. "Hermione, take your time."

Since Hermione had borrowed the set, she no longer needed to buy them. She excitedly picked out Lockhart's books from her pile and asked the witch to recalculate.

The witch glared at them.

The three finished selecting their books for next term.

"That Hall Weasley tutored me over the summer, then just disappeared. I'm going to make my dad dock his pay."

Just as Hall and his friends were about to go downstairs, they heard a familiar voice coming from below, growing louder. If someone wants to speak ill of another, best to say it to their face. Hall stood still.

The people walking upstairs were talking and joking, occasionally shoving each other. The wooden stairs creaked. Hall stood at the top, clutching his books, blocking the way.

"Who's standing there like a wooden post?"

The arrogant tone vanished when the speaker looked up and saw Hall.

"Hall?" Draco's voice was full of surprise.

"Mm." Hall replied lazily. "What a coincidence. I just overheard how unhappy Master Malfoy was about those days without tutoring."

"No, no. You're lying." Draco's face flushed, his cheeks puffed out like an annoyed hamster. Then he turned and urged Blaise and Pansy to get the books.

Hall noticed his hesitation. He handed his coin purse to Ron, gesturing for him and Harry to pay first. Ron glared at Draco, grabbed the stack, and stomped downstairs.

Hall cast a simple soundproofing charm. Draco spoke with a serious expression. "Shortly after you left during the summer holidays, an uninvited guest came to our house."

"Who?" Hall wondered if it was a fragment of Voldemort.

"Sirius Black." Draco's face hardened with hatred.

Hall was puzzled. Draco had met Sirius before — why such a strong reaction?

Draco leaned against the railing. "He talked to my parents about something. Then my mother went out with him. She came back hours later covered in injuries." His voice was low and hoarse. "I've asked them so many times — none of them will tell me. I'm part of the family too. Why are they keeping this from me?"

Hall's heart skipped. He knew where they'd gone.

Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, stored in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.

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