Harry, Harry, Harry,” said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. “I understand. Natural to want a bit more once you’ve had that first taste – and I blame myself for giving you that, be cause it was bound to go to your head – but see here, young man, you can’t start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you’re older. Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking! ‘It’s all right for him, he’s an internationally famous wizard already!’ But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, Id say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven’t they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead. “I know, I know-it’s not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly’s Most Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have – but it’s a start, Harry, it’s a start.
101. oldal, Gilderoy Lockhart (Blommsbury, 2000)