Amidst this semblance of idleness, September first finally arrived.
Lockhart had purchased a copy of the [Financial Times] and [The Times] early and was now leaning against a stone pillar next to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King’s Cross Station.
He pretended to be waiting for a train, but in reality, he was waiting for the Muggle-born first-years to arrive.
When it came to matters where he could show his face and be helpful, Lockhart never missed an opportunity.
He didn’t understand why Hogwarts didn’t station a guide here specifically to help new students onto the platform.
He guessed it might be Dumbledore’s way of encouraging wizarding families to show kindness to newcomers, much like the Weasleys had done for Harry.
Sure enough, not long after, Lockhart spotted a few Muggle-born first-years approaching with bewildered looks on their faces.
Although they had been to Diagon Alley and, following Lockhart’s instructions, had already studied some of their textbooks early, something like Platform Nine and Three-Quarts still stretched their imaginations.
“Just walk straight at that wall.
It’s a magical passageway.
The key is to believe it,” Lockhart said to Colin, pointing at the platform entrance.
Colin Creevey summoned his courage, hugged his magical trunk tightly, gritted his teeth, and charged at the wall.
“You don’t need to run that fast, child…”
No sooner had Lockhart finished speaking than a yelp of pain came from the other side of the wall.
“You bumped into me!” Lockhart faintly heard a girl’s voice.
“Sorry, it’s my first time going through here.
I was too rough,” Colin’s apologetic voice also came through the wall.
Lockhart shrugged, ticked off the Creevey name on his list, then leaned back against the pillar to continue reading his paper.
Soon, all twelve Muggle-borns had passed by, each guided by Lockhart through the wall one after another.
Seeing that the time was about right, Lockhart folded his newspapers and, when no one was looking, slipped through the barrier himself.
Boarding the Hogwarts Express steam train, Lockhart headed straight for the prefects’ carriage.
Although he could have simply Apparated to the outskirts of Hogwarts, Lockhart was determined to use every minute to strengthen his influence.
So he chose to travel with the students on the train.
After all, Hogwarts had no rules about where teachers should sit.
Thus, under the pretext of “understanding the students’ progress over the past few years,” he waited outside the prefects’ compartment.
Once the prefects’ meeting concluded and they began their patrols of the train, Lockhart openly mingled into the prefects’ carriage and struck up a conversation with the Head Boy and Girl.
Lockhart frankly admitted his inability to break Voldemort’s curse: “Because of that curse, I only plan to hold this position for one year, and I intend to make my exit before the final exams.
However, I am deeply concerned about the disorder and inconsistency of the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum over the past few years, to the point where new teachers wouldn’t know where to begin.
So I plan to establish a solid framework.
That way, no matter who the new teacher is, they can simply follow the syllabus without compromising the quality of teaching.
My goal is to directly improve the students’ ability to counter Dark Magic.
Beyond basic training, I aim to ensure every fifth-year passes their O.W.L.s, and any seventh-year aiming for N.E.W.T.s can pass them steadily as well.”
The Head Boy and Girl listened very seriously to Lockhart’s plan and nodded repeatedly.
“A very pragmatic goal, Professor,” the Head Boy said.
“Regardless of teaching methods, passing the exams is what matters most.”
He was in his seventh year, about to hand over his duties to the next Head Student, and his biggest concern right now was his academic work.
“This is my basic outline.
Would you like to take a look?” Lockhart handed over his lesson plan.
The two Head Students were very pleased with Lockhart’s respect for them.
Children their age, not yet adults or just recently of age (wizards come of age at 17), were precisely in that rebellious phase of shouting “my fate is my own,” and their self-esteem was unusually sensitive.
They carefully read through Lockhart’s plan, asked a few questions with an air of premature seriousness, and then nodded in satisfaction.
“It looks perfectly sound, though the safety aspect might be…
but considering the teacher is you, I suppose nothing will go wrong,” the Head Boy said, handing the lesson plan back.
But his arm was pulled by the Head Girl.
“I wonder if I could keep this,” she pleaded with Lockhart.
“Of course,” Lockhart said.
“I have the original draft.
This is a specially copied version after revisions.”
The Head Girl immediately snatched the lesson plan from her companion’s hand.
“It would be even better with a signature on it.
It would be more convincing,” she hinted frantically.
Lockhart smiled, then pulled out his peacock-feather quill and signed his name with a flourish.
When the prefects returned, the Head Students specifically announced the earlier decision—Professor Lockhart intended to reform the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, establishing a new framework, and requested everyone’s full cooperation for the year.
“Since our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is likely to change every year for the next few decades, this matter concerns the immediate interests of every Hogwarts student and the future of Hogwarts itself.
I hope everyone will restrain the troublemakers in their own houses within their means and not oppose Professor Lockhart.
We’ve seen his plan, and it seems quite…
hey, show it to them!”
“No, you saw it too.
Just tell them.”
The Head Girl flatly refused, clearly determined to abuse her power for personal gain.
…
When Lockhart emerged from the prefects’ compartment, he found his original seat had been taken.
He had no intention of fighting a bunch of kids for a seat, so he had to walk further down, looking to see if there were any empty compartments.
But he soon realized he had made a mistake—wherever he went, young witches swarmed him, asking for autographs and eagerly inviting him to sit in their compartments.
Considering that sitting in any one compartment would displease all the others in this situation, Lockhart abandoned finding a seat and instead started patrolling the train.
He only breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the snack trolley at the very end of the train.
Here, only one woman asked for his autograph—the witch pushing the snack trolley.
He bought a pile of cakes and berries and, while eating, began reading the Muggle newspapers he had bought at the station.
To avoid trouble, he held the paper upright, hiding his face behind it.
The [Financial Times] stated clearly that ever since the end of the Falklands War, the value of the British pound had been under constant attack by international currency speculators.
Although the British Empire ultimately won that war of pride, allowing nationalists at home to indulge in the fantasy that “we are still a great power,” Britain’s foreign exchange and gold reserves had been nearly depleted in the process, leaving it unable to maintain the pound’s previously high value.
Moreover, they even wanted to peg the pound’s exchange rate to the Deutsche Mark—they didn’t stop to consider whether their economy could keep up.
As Sir Humphrey said, “There is always a penalty for pretending to be European.”
Soros saw this opportunity and used his influence to short the pound.
Although, due to the staunch resistance of the UK Treasury, there was no sign of the pound’s value weakening yet, anyone with clear eyes could see that Britain couldn’t hold out much longer.
Even the Prime Minister and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, when expressing their determination to maintain the currency’s value, had shifted from initial firmness to “leaving room for maneuver.”
Even if, in this timeline, the European exchange rate crisis didn’t erupt precisely on September 16, 1992, Lockhart was confident it wouldn’t be off by more than a month.
With the pound plummeting 24% in just a few days, he only needed to add a few multiples of leverage alongside Soros to make a fortune.
Was there any options trade more profitable than this?
Thinking that in just over half a month he would become one of the wealthiest wizards, Lockhart couldn’t help but feel elated.
After all, money is necessary to play politics—an eternal truth.
“Ron!
Harry!
Are you in here?”
As a young girl’s voice rang out, Lockhart lowered the newspaper he was holding in front of his face.
“Ah, Miss Granger.
Is something the matter?” Lockhart asked kindly.