Most of the onlookers outside Flourish and Blotts wisely kept their mouths shut.
After all, the ones who'd been beaten were Malfoy father and son, representing the House of Malfoy—people you simply didn't cross.
As for the one who'd done the beating, she was only a Young Wizard, but judging by her skills, she wasn't someone they could afford to provoke either, so nobody dared gossip.
Of course, if most people kept silent, there was always that small minority who didn't.
And inside Flourish and Blotts, that minority happened to be Gilderoy Lockhart.
While everyone else clamped their mouths shut for fear of being dragged in, he sensed a golden opportunity—
a chance to push his own fame even higher.
Earlier, because Harry and Lynn hadn't entered the shop, Lockhart hadn't realized the boy was nearby.
But now he knew. Imagine if he could persuade Harry Potter—the Wizarding World's celebrated Boy-Who-Lived—to take a photo with him.
Then have The Daily Prophet run the headline "The Boy-Who-Lived's Idol: Gilderoy Lockhart." How high would his star rise?
People who knew Lockhart might be limited, but everyone knew the Boy-Who-Lived; he could ride on Harry's fame.
Better yet, if he could chat up that unusual girl and have the paper snap a few more shots—
"embellish" things just a little—he'd get an article: "Shock! Hogwarts Young Wizard Defeats Adult Wizard; Chaos Erupts, Lockhart Steps In."
Pair that with the Harry story, and he could scarcely imagine the boost to his reputation.
So carried away was he that, bruised face and all, he marched straight over to The Daily Prophet reporter on the scene and pitched both stories.
The reporter looked at him as if he were an idiot.
He was doing everything possible to avoid crossing that girl and the Malfoys, and here was Lockhart begging to leap into the fire?
Write the piece exactly as he described? That would be slapping both the girl and the Malfoys in print—
and he'd end up hated by both sides. Did Lockhart think him a fool?
Not every Daily Prophet journalist was Rita Skeeter, willing to do anything for a splash.
Still, the Harry Potter angle… maybe. The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't terrifying, after all.
With that thought, the reporter glanced toward Harry.
Lynn, who had just finished compensating the Potion-supplies shop, was still on high alert.
The instant the reporter's gaze settled on Harry, Lynn's eyes snapped to the journalist.
The man froze, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
That icy, almost lifeless stare was terrifying.
He didn't doubt that the slightest wrong move would see him flung sky-high by a Levitation Charm.
A quick analysis told Lynn the man posed no threat and had no intention of harming Hermione or the others.
Spotting the camera around his neck, she identified him as a reporter; his glance at Harry must mean he wanted an interview.
Satisfied he wasn't dangerous, she calmly looked away.
She'd deduced his intent, but so what?
He hadn't spoken; perhaps he'd changed his mind.
Out of respect for his autonomy, she decided not to interfere and kept silent.
Only after her gaze left did the reporter fully relax, slumping as if drained, shirt soaked in sweat, gasping for breath.
To him, that look had been a clear warning: watch yourself—write whatever you like and you'll regret it.
That single glance cemented his resolve to report only the truth, never to exaggerate again.
Lynn's stare had, quite literally, won the Wizarding World a journalist committed to facts.
Lockhart, however, remained oblivious. Seeing the group collect their books and head for the exit, he panicked.
Miss this chance and Merlin knew when another would come!
Without thinking, he lunged to grab Harry—or even Lynn—forgetting entirely how she'd dealt with the Malfoys.
The Prophet reporter's eyelid twitched; he seized Lockhart's arm in a death-grip.
If that lunatic charged over and the girl thought he approved, he'd be finished—no way would he let this idiot drag him down.
Yes, Edgar—the reporter—was now certain Lockhart was a prize fool.
Thanks to Edgar's restraint, Lynn's group completed their purchases and left unhindered.
They stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and piled into Mr. Weasley's and the Grangers' cars, heading straight for St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Fortunately, Mr. Weasley's magically expanded interiors were spacious.
Even with so many passengers, two cars sufficed.
Mrs. Granger, riding behind, was amazed. She turned to Hermione and Lynn squeezed together in the back seat. "Mr. Weasley's car really isn't overloaded?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, Mum. He's modified it with magic."
For a moment her expression twisted; she seemed to recall… the Ministry had rules against enchanting Muggle objects.
Seeing her daughter's face, Mrs. Granger blinked. "What is it?"
"Oh… I just remembered the Ministry forbids Wizards from illegally charming Muggle artifacts."
"And unless I'm mistaken, Ron once said Mr. Weasley works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."
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