Harry Potter: Archmage of Another World

Augustus stood not far from Flourish and Blotts, observing the commotion as Harry Potter and Gilderoy Lockhart were surrounded by enthusiastic fans.

"Smile nicely, Harry," Lockhart said, flashing his dazzlingly bright teeth. "We could make the front page together."

When Lockhart finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry's fingers were numb. He tried to slip back to the Weasleys, but Lockhart's arm was firmly draped over his shoulder, holding him in place.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart called out, gesturing for silence, "what an extraordinary moment this is! I'd like to take advantage of this marvelous occasion to make a little announcement, something I've been keeping under wraps for a while."

"Young Harry here walked into Flourish and Blotts today intending to buy my autobiography—which, of course, I am delighted to gift to him free of charge." The crowd burst into applause. "But little did he know," Lockhart continued, shaking Harry slightly so that his glasses slid down his nose, "he will soon receive something far more valuable than my modest works. In fact, he and his schoolmates will get the real, magical me. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I am thrilled to announce that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The news left Augustus stunned. How could someone with such weak magical abilities become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? What was Dumbledore thinking? Was it really so hard to find a competent instructor for the position?

"Ah, Augustus! Fancy meeting you here," a familiar voice said from behind. Augustus turned to see Draco Malfoy and his father, Lucius, approaching.

"Lucius, are you here to buy books for your son?" Clovis, Augustus's father, greeted them with a polite smile.

"Indeed," Lucius replied, though he seemed slightly irritated, holding a battered old book in his hand. "This term's required reading list is ridiculous. Dumbledore must be losing his senses to hire someone like Gilderoy Lockhart—a man who is all flash and no substance—to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. The man has no talent whatsoever apart from grandstanding."

"Who knows," Clovis replied with a wave of his hand, equally unimpressed. "Perhaps Dumbledore has some deeper plan we don't understand."

Draco, meanwhile, had spotted Harry in the crowd. With his trademark sneer, he couldn't resist taunting, "Well, look who it is—famous Harry Potter. You must love this, Potter, being the center of attention even in a bookstore!"

"Don't talk rubbish! He doesn't enjoy it!" Ginny Weasley shot back, her voice filled with anger. It was the first time she had spoken up in front of Harry, glaring at Draco.

"Potter, you've found yourself a girlfriend!" Draco drawled mockingly. Ginny's face flushed red as Ron and Hermione pushed through the crowd, each carrying a pile of Lockhart's books.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said to Draco, as if addressing something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. "Jealous of Harry, are you?"

"Jealous?" Draco retorted sharply. "More like amazed to see you even stepping foot in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will have to go hungry next month to pay for all these."

Ron's face turned scarlet as he threw his books into his cauldron and lunged at Draco. Harry and Hermione grabbed him by the back of his robes to hold him back.

"Ron!" Mr. Weasley appeared, followed by Fred and George. "What on earth are you doing? This place is madness—let's get out of here."

"Well, well—Arthur Weasley," Lucius Malfoy drawled, his hand resting on Draco's shoulder and his face wearing the same mocking expression as his son's.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley responded coldly, nodding curtly.

"Busy at work, I hear," Lucius continued. "With all those raids… I do hope they're paying you overtime?" He reached into Ginny's cauldron, pulling out a battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

Clovis stood by, unsure of what to say as tension filled the air between the two men, both of whom seemed destined to clash whenever they met.

"Clearly not," Lucius added, inspecting the book disdainfully. "Tell me, Arthur, what's the point of being a disgrace to the wizarding world if you don't even get proper compensation for it?"

Mr. Weasley's face turned redder than Ron's. "We have very different ideas about what it means to be a disgrace, Malfoy."

"Indeed," Lucius replied, his pale eyes darting toward the Grangers, who were watching the confrontation nervously. "Just look at the sort of company you keep, Weasley… I didn't think it was possible for your family to fall any lower."

A loud crash interrupted their exchange as Ginny's cauldron flew through the air. Mr. Weasley lunged at Lucius, slamming him into a bookshelf. Dozens of thick spellbooks rained down on their heads.

"Hit him, Dad!" Fred and George shouted, while Mrs. Weasley screamed, "Stop it, Arthur! Stop it right now!" The crowd backed away in alarm, knocking over more shelves in the process.

"Gentlemen, please—calm down!" shouted a store assistant.

Amid the chaos, Augustus sighed and drew his wand. With a flick, an invisible barrier appeared between the two men, forcing them apart. Another flick of his wand pushed them backward, as though an unseen hand was pulling them away from each other.

"Here, little girl—take your books. It's the best your father can give you," Lucius snarled, throwing the books at Ginny before storming out of the store with Draco in tow.

Augustus's eyes fell on the discarded book Lucius had thrown. His expression grew serious—it wasn't an ordinary book. A strong magical aura emanated from it, one that was unmistakably tied to dark magic.

The Grangers looked terrified, while Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with anger. "Setting a fine example for the children… fighting in public… Gilderoy Lockhart must be mortified!"

"He loved it," Fred remarked cheerfully. "Didn't you hear him asking if the fight could be included in the article? He said it would make headlines!"

After finishing their shopping, Augustus bought the remaining supplies for the term. As the sun set, casting a golden glow over Diagon Alley, they made their way to the waiting carriage, ready to return to the estate.

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