For Lucius Malfoy, the name Nolan Von Draugr was nothing short of a nightmare.
So when he entered Flourish and Blotts with his son Draco, only to run into Nolan and his ever-present shadow, Eve Stock, his face turned an unsightly shade of green.
"Oh, good day, Mr. Malfoy," Eve greeted him coolly, her silver eyes gleaming with sharp amusement. "Is there something you needed? If you're here to suggest that I leave Hogwarts, I'd recommend taking it up with Professor Dumbledore instead—you might have better luck."
Lucius' lips twitched in irritation, but he wisely chose to ignore the sharp-tongued girl. Instead, he turned his attention to Nolan. "Mr. Von Draugr," he greeted smoothly. "I've heard quite a lot about you from Draco. Severus speaks very highly of your… performance at school."
"Highly?" Nolan repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. "I wasn't aware that Professor Snape had anything positive to say about me."
Lucius, without missing a beat, continued weaving his deception. "Severus is strict with students, yes, but among friends, he's rather different," he said, lying through his teeth. "He considers you one of his most promising protégés."
Nolan raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Fascinating," he murmured, the hint of a smirk on his lips. "I had no idea Professor Snape harbored such warm feelings toward me."
Lucius forced a thin-lipped smile before giving Draco a sharp push forward. "Draco, I'm sure you have plenty to discuss with Mr. Von Draugr."
Draco looked as though he'd just been sentenced to Azkaban.
In truth, he had been dreading an encounter with Nolan. After all, last year, it was Draco who had orchestrated the incident with Norbert the dragon that nearly killed Eve. If Nolan ever found out the truth… Draco didn't even want to imagine what kind of revenge would follow.
Still, his father was watching, so Draco quickly forced a grin and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Hey, Nolan! Eve, Alicia!" His voice was overly cheerful. "How was your summer? I spent mine practicing Quidditch with Crabbe and Goyle the entire time!"
At this, Draco perked up. "This year, I'm going to be Slytherin's Seeker!" he announced proudly.
Eve barely spared him a glance. "We know," she said dryly. "In fact, Nolan saw your father order seven Nimbus 2001s."
Draco's pale complexion flushed bright red.
Everyone knew he had bought his way onto the team, but why did she have to say it out loud?
Before he could stammer out a response, a commotion at the entrance caught their attention—the Weasley family had arrived, along with Harry Potter and a familiar face they hadn't seen all summer—Hermione Granger.
Draco immediately switched gears, turning to Ron with a sneer. "Weasley," he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "Finally crawled out of your trash heap? I'm not sure why you're even bothering with a bookstore—couldn't find your textbooks in the garbage this year? Or wait—" He smirked. "Are you all sharing a single copy? Buy another, and you might have to sell your house."
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy!" Ron snapped, his ears turning as red as his hair.
Mr. Weasley, however, looked furious. "You must be Lucius Malfoy's son," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Perhaps he should spend less time throwing money around and more time teaching you some manners!"
Nolan, Eve, and Alicia exchanged a glance, all silently agreeing that they did not want to get dragged into a blood-purity argument between a Malfoy and a Weasley. Without a word, they slowly began to slip away.
But just as they were about to escape, a loud voice pierced through the air.
"Harry Potter!"
The once-noisy bookstore fell into a sudden hush.
A sharp, eager voice called out again. "Why don't you come up here, my dear boy?"
Harry blinked in confusion. He hadn't done anything this time, so why was everyone staring at him? Even Nolan Von Draugr—his personal nemesis—was watching with mild interest.
That made Harry especially smug. He relished the attention, especially when it made someone like Nolan look unimportant in comparison.
A rush of floral perfume suddenly filled the air.
Striding toward Harry with enthusiastic energy was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart.
The man was dressed in a loud violet robe, practically radiating self-importance. His hair was perfectly curled, his face completely smooth—not a single beard hair in sight.
And Merlin's beard, was he wearing perfume?
With a grand flourish, Lockhart threw his arms wide.
"Harry Potter!Ha-ha!" he boomed. "What an honor to meet you before we begin our journey together at Hogwarts!"
"You mean it, sir?"
"Oh, absolutely!" Gilderoy Lockhart puffed out his chest dramatically. "And now, I am honored to officially announce that I— Gilderoy Lockhart —internationally renowned wizard, celebrated author, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and—let's not forget—five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award— will be joining Hogwarts as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"
Lockhart beamed as he seized Harry Potter in a firm one-armed grip, holding him like a prized trophy. Harry, thoroughly embarrassed, gave an awkward smile, clearly wanting to be anywhere else.
"And as the professor who cares most about dear Harry," Lockhart continued, "I will be gifting him my complete Gilderoy Lockhart book collection—each copy personally autographed by yours truly!"
The witches in the crowd screamed.
Nolan had no idea which part of that sentence had set them off, but whatever it was, it was working.
Even Hermione Granger—ever the top student—was practically bouncing in place, her beaver-like face flushed with excitement. She looked more thrilled than Harry himself, waving her hands as if she might faint from sheer joy.
Nearby, Eve leaned in and whispered, "Where have we seen something like this before?"
"Broadway?" Alicia suggested blankly.
"I don't know," Nolan muttered. "But wizarding fan culture is embarrassing... Let's go before we get caught in some stupid photo."
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
Just as they were about to slip away, a voice boomed through the shop.
"Nolan Von Draugr!"
Nolan froze.
Lockhart had just abandoned Harry, rushing forward with open arms, heading straight for him.
"Oh, no."
Nolan's expression darkened as Lockhart lunged at him like a long-lost relative.
"I'm not famous like the Chosen One," Nolan said flatly, backing up. "I'm on a date. Leave me alone."
"Oh, don't be modest, my dear boy!" Lockhart brushed off the rejection entirely, throwing his arms around Nolan in an overly familiar embrace. "Hogwarts' little prodigy, the Prince of Slytherin! Why, every wizard in England knows your name!"
Nolan stiffened. "Let go of me."
But Lockhart wasn't listening.
"Come on, dear boy!" he gushed. "Let's give the Daily Prophet a photo, shall we?"
Nolan's face darkened.
Sure enough, a photographer was already approaching, camera raised, flash ready.
"Don't." Nolan's voice dropped several degrees. "Take.My.Picture."
The photographer hesitated—just for a second—before ignoring him and snapping a blinding flash.
That was a mistake.
With a sharp snap of his fingers, Nolan sent a controlled burst of energy toward the camera—shattering it into fine, useless powder.
The shop fell silent.
Lockhart flinched, eyes widening. He had never seen anyone destroy a camera that quickly.
Nolan turned his cold gaze on him. "Mr. Lockhart," he said smoothly, "do yourself a favor and abandon whatever ridiculous notion you have about using me for publicity."
Lockhart gulped.
"Because if I were you," Nolan continued, pressing the tip of his unicorn wand into Lockhart's chest, "I'd stay far, far away from Hogwarts. Unless, of course, you actually enjoy wasting an entire year misleading students."
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