Eternal Despair (Harry Potter/OC)

𝟜: Platform 9¾

An hour later, they made their way to Flourish and Blotts. They were far from the only ones heading to the bustling bookshop. As they drew closer, they were taken aback by the sight of a large crowd pressing against the doors, all eager to get inside.

"I bet it's a sale for back scratchers; I could really use one," Enzo joked, but the true reason for the commotion was announced by a massive banner stretched across the upper windows:

GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME

today from 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M. AT FLOURISH AND BLOTTS.

"Never mind, it's much more sad," Enzo sighed, his excitement deflated.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd was primarily composed of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age, their chatter filled with excitement. A flustered-looking wizard stood at the entrance, trying to maintain order. "Calmly, please, ladies! Mind the books, now. No pushing!"

With determination, Enzo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed through the throng. Inside, a long line snaked its way to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart sat, surrounded by stacks of his books, signing autographs.

They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and nudged their way toward the rest of the Weasley family, who were gathered with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, sounding breathless as she patted her hair down nervously. "We'll be able to see him in just a minute..."

As they turned, Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, seated at a lavish table adorned with large portraits of his own face, all of which winked and flashed dazzlingly white smiles at the eager crowd.

Lockhart himself wore robes of forget-me-not blue that perfectly matched his bright eyes. His pointed wizard's hat sat jauntily atop his wavy hair, exuding confidence.

Nearby, a short, irritable man darted around with a large black camera, taking photographs that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. "Out of the way, there!" he snarled at Ron, shifting back for a better angle. "This is for the Daily Prophet-"

"Big deal," Ron muttered, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

"They act like he's some kind of god. He's probably just one of those wizards who fakes it for attention," Enzo remarked, prompting several bystanders to shoot him disapproving glances.

Lockhart overheard him and turned his gaze. Spotting Enzo first, then Harry, he gasped dramatically. "It can't be Harry Potter? And that miserable-looking boy next to him-his face resembles one that was once wanted throughout the entire country! Could it be... the mass murderer Sirius Black's kin? He's come here seeking the comfort he lacks from his real father! Don't worry, I have enough love for the both of you!"

"I'll punch him, I swear I will," Enzo whispered furiously to the group as the crowd parted, some whispering excitedly while others looked on in shock and fear. Lockhart dove forward, seizing Harry and Enzo by the arms and pulling them to the front. The crowd erupted into applause.

Harry's face burned with embarrassment as Lockhart vigorously shook his hand for the photographer, who was snapping away, filling the air with thick smoke that wafted over the Weasleys.

Enzo, on the other hand, refused to engage, turning his gaze defiantly away from the camera and the crowd.

"Nice big smile, kid!" Lockhart insisted, his gleaming teeth on full display.