Chapter Nineteen

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 "What do you mean, Dumbledore won't fire Lockhart?" Harry snarled furiously.

He was sitting in his favorite armchair by the fire ⎯ which had a view of the entire common room ⎯ with his friends, Draco, the twins, and Neville, sitting around him. The other Slytherins had gone completely silent at Harry's outburst, while Blaise cowered in front of him, looking both pale and outraged.

"I overheard him telling McGonagall that Lockhart was perfectly suitable for the job, my lord," Blaise responded nervously. "That he was incredibly intelligent and-"

The rest of his explanation was drowned out by shouts of anger and sarcastic laughter.

"He brought a fire salamander to class and almost drowned Harper with his over-powered Aguamenti charm!" cried a first year.

"He set Hestia on fire!" Flora Carrow snarled.

"He's an idiot!" shouted a fifth year.

Harry, who was cringing in his chair, cast the twins a pleading look, and the two instantly shot silent fireworks into the air. The shouts and laughs stopped.

"How are we supposed to learn anything with that lunatic?" Harry growled, relaxing slightly.

Draco coughed once. Harry looked over at him. "Yes, Draco?"

"Have you heard of Rita Skeeter, my lord?" Draco asked. "Harry," he amended at Harry's sharp look.

Murmurs had started up at the name. Several people were frowning. Some of them had obviously caught onto Draco's plan, because their eyes lit up.

"No," Harry responded. "Who is she?"

"She's a very well-known reporter, my ⎯ Harry," Draco corrected himself again. "She has many fans. She's known for having a grain of truth in her articles, while the rest is complete lies that usually destroy a person's reputation."

Harry slowly smiled, and the Slytherins exchanged excited looks. "How does one get ahold of a reporter?"

"You can write the publisher," Marcus suggested. "You're going to have to use words that will hook Skeeter's interest, because otherwise, she won't come."

The door to the common room suddenly burst open, and a familiar man with shaggy black hair erupted into the room, followed by an exasperated Remus Lupin-Black.

"Your favorite godfather is here, pup!" Sirius Lupin-Black crowed.

"I hate to break it to you, Uncle Padfoot," Harry said mock sadly, "but Uncle Moony is my favorite godfather."

Sirius gasped dramatically and clutched his chest, ignoring the sniggers from the Slytherins. "You wound me!" he wailed.

"Shut up, Siri," Remus snorted. "Hey, cub," he said, smiling at Harry when Sirius gave him a mock horrified look. "Sorry to burst in like this. We came for the job interview, but Dumbledore wasn't in his office."

"Unfortunately, we won't be getting a new Defense teacher ⎯ yet," Harry added. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the empty chairs on either side of him.

"What happened?" Remus frowned as he took a seat on Harry's left. Sirius plopped down on the arm of his husband's chair.

Harry rolled his eyes at his child-like godfather and said, "Dumbledore refuses to fire Lockhart, so I have to take matters into my own hands."

"Why you?" Remus questioned.

"I can't tell you," Harry said after a pause. "Yet."

Sirius pouted.

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