182: Lockhart’s Misfortune

Harry Potter was having the worst morning.

First, he was ambushed by an overly enthusiastic first-year who insisted on taking his picture.

Then, as if things couldn't get worse, the commotion caught the attention of the last person Harry wanted to deal with—Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was delighted, practically giddy at the chance to mock him. He seized the opportunity to announce to everyone that Harry was a self-absorbed celebrity who craved attention.

But the final blow came just two minutes later, when Gilderoy Lockhart himself joined the scene.

"Ah! What a fantastic idea!" Lockhart beamed, flashing his blindingly white teeth. "Why stop at just you, Harry? Let's take a duo picture—side by side!"

Before Harry could protest, Lockhart had already thrown an arm around him, pulling him in like they were co-stars in some horribly staged portrait.

Harry wanted to disappear. He and Lockhart in the same category? He felt physically ill.

Meanwhile, over at the Slytherin table, Malfoy was having the time of his life. He sauntered back to his seat, doubled over with laughter, sharing the hilarious sight with his housemates.

Harry desperately needed an escape.

"Nolan!" he blurted out.

"What?" Lockhart blinked. Even the overexcited young photographer, Colin Creevey, looked confused.

Harry rushed to explain, "Nolan's way more famous than me! You should take his picture with Professor Lockhart!"

"Oh, but—" Colin hesitated. "He hasn't defeated You-Know-Who…"

"Doesn't matter," Harry insisted. "Nolan is far more impressive."

Lockhart chuckled knowingly, giving Harry a playful nudge. "Oh, Harry, Harry… I know what you're thinking."* He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You feel a little overwhelmed standing next to me, don't you? You're afraid that, in my radiance, you'll be overshadowed!"*

Harry wanted to scream. That was not even remotely what he was thinking!

Lockhart ignored his reaction completely and grinned wider. "Don't worry, my boy. One day, you'll be just as famous as Nolan! After all, he hasn't defeated the Dark Lord, has he?"

Harry seriously considered running away.

Lockhart, however, had other ideas. Raising his voice, he called out:

"Come now, Nolan! Stand with me! Let's give this charming young man a perfect shot! And afterward, we can both sign it for him! Ah, what a wonderful school—Hogwarts truly is!"

Across the hall, Nolan shot Lockhart a look of pure irritation. He had no interest in this nonsense.

Without missing a beat, he stood up, motioning for Eve and Miles to follow. "I decline, Professor Lockhart. And, by the way, I have your class today. I hope you've actually prepared your lesson."*

Lockhart laughed, waving a hand. "Oh, Nolan, Nolan! You should be kinder to your underclassmen! Show them a gentler, warmer side of yourself!"*

Then, in an astonishing show of nerve, Lockhart actually pushed Eve aside and slung his arm around Nolan's shoulders.

"Come now, Mr. Creevey!"

"Right!" Colin eagerly raised his camera.

Nolan's expression darkened. "Do not take my picture."*

Colin hesitated. "Just one smile, sirs!"

Lockhart, of course, obliged immediately, flashing his signature pearly-white grin.

The entire Great Hall froze, eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.

Those who knew Nolan well began to feel a deep sense of dread.

They had never seen him look this… agitated.

And then—

"I SAID, DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE!"*

FLASH!

The blinding burst of light from Colin's camera filled the hall.

Then—

BOOM!

The camera exploded into a smoking heap of twisted metal and shattered glass.

Colin screamed as he was thrown backward like a ragdoll, landing hard on the Ravenclaw table. The Ravenclaws shrieked in terror, scattering as Colin crashed into their breakfast plates.

Before anyone could react, Nolan kicked the Gryffindor table out of his way with a loud crack, storming straight for Colin.

The entire hall fell silent.

Colin lay on his back, eyes wide with fear.

Nolan towered over him, his one uncovered eye blazing with cold fury. Every muscle in his face was rigid.

With painstaking slowness, he pressed the tip of his unicorn-horn wand against Colin's cheek.

His voice was low. Dangerous.

"Put that damned Muggle camera away."*

The silence was suffocating.

"I never want to see it again. Do you understand me?"

Colin, trembling, nodded frantically.

He didn't dare say a word.

"If I ever catch you messing with that damned toy again," Nolan said icily, his voice dripping with menace, "I'll personally stuff you into a toilet. You'll swirl down the drain, get flushed out of the castle, and end up at the bottom of the Black Lake—having a nice, long chat with the Giant Squid. And if I look up at the Slytherin common room ceiling, I just might be able to see you waving back."

He took a step back, lifting his silver-trimmed boot off the Ravenclaw table.

The girls from Ravenclaw collectively gasped.

A deep, unmistakable boot print was now embedded into the polished wood of their dining table, a harsh reminder of just how close Nolan had come to planting his foot straight through Colin Creevey's skull.

"Move aside! Make way!"

The Slytherins shoved past the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, pushing their way to Nolan's side.

Eve immediately grabbed onto Nolan's arm, tugging him toward the exit. "Apologies, everyone!" she called over her shoulder, loudly enough for the whole hall to hear. "But Nolan hates having his picture taken!"*

With the help of Alicia, Miles, and Montague, she successfully dragged Nolan out of the Great Hall, leaving behind a room full of stunned students.

The moment the doors shut behind them, the entire hall erupted into a deafening roar of whispers.

They had never seen anyone dare to go that far—not in front of the professors, not in the Great Hall, and certainly not with Lockhart right there.

Cho Chang clutched her chest, her face still pale. "I… I never imagined Nolan had such a violent side..."

She was shaken. The way he had stood over Colin, the pure fury in his eye—it was terrifying. He had looked like a wild beast, like he was one second away from tearing the poor boy apart.

"He looked so intense…" one Ravenclaw girl murmured, her cheeks flushing. "It was… kind of… manly?"

Marietta's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Honestly, wasn't it kind of attractive?"

Cho gawked at her. "You actually think that?"

"Well, don't you?" Marietta grinned.

Later That Morning

Lockhart, for the first time in his life, was completely humiliated.

Professor McGonagall had torn into him the moment breakfast ended.

"Professor Lockhart," she had snapped, "you are not to force Mr. Nolan to do anything he does not wish to do. Not everyone enjoys parading around, putting on a charming act for the public. Not everyone shares your enthusiasm for showmanship."

Lockhart had sputtered, "But—but it wasn't even my idea! It was Harry Potter who—"

"Enough," McGonagall cut him off, her tone final. "Consider this a warning, Professor."

And just like that, Lockhart's day had gone from bad to worse.

It wasn't just that he had been scolded—he could handle that. No, the real problem was… Nolan.

Because after this morning, Lockhart was certain he had made a very, very dangerous enemy.

Defense Against the Dark Arts—First Period

"What the hell is this?"

Nolan's voice was sharp, slicing through the classroom like a blade.

He was holding a sheet of parchment—the class's first assignment.

Lockhart felt an uneasy shiver crawl down his spine.

He cleared his throat, forcing a charming smile. "Ah, well, that's your quiz, of course!"

Nolan's visible eye flicked coldly down to the parchment as he read aloud:

"Question one: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?"

The entire class went silent.

A beat of pure tension passed.

Then, Nolan slowly lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable.

"Professor," he said, his voice so calm it was terrifying, "is this supposed to be a joke?"