Harry Potter: The Wandmaker

That night, the Weasley twins really did send out the letter, just as Harold had asked, addressed to none other than Rita Skeeter.

They even helped flesh out the details—like how Harold was guided by fate to discover the Chamber, and how he felt when he learned he was Slytherin's heir.

Harold had read the finished version. It was so convincing, so full of emotion and "logical" reasoning, that if someone else's name were on it, he might have believed it was a genuine memoir of Slytherin's heir.

"You two should seriously consider working for the Daily Prophet after graduation—you'd have a brilliant career," Harold said sincerely.

"We'll think about it," they said with grins.

"You think they'll actually publish it?" George asked.

"They should," Harold replied thoughtfully. "There's not much real news lately. And this touches on Salazar Slytherin from a thousand years ago—that's exactly the sort of thing they love."

"Great," both twins said, clearly excited.

"When school starts again, we'll tell everyone the letter was completely made up," George added, chuckling. "Can you imagine how they'll react?"

"They'll pretend they never saw it," Harold said flatly. "By the way, did you include a specific time in the letter?"

"Of course—we covered that," Fred replied. "The Chamber's already been opened. You'll be destroying its contents the night before term starts."

"Perfect," Harold nodded.

"Though… was that part necessary?" Fred asked. "Didn't feel like it added much realism."

"I mean, we could've said you dreamed about Salazar Slytherin," Fred said, clearing his throat and putting on a raspy old-man voice.

'Slytherins are all fools! Only a Gryffindor can carry on my legacy!'

"That's so fake it hurts," Harold looked at him, unimpressed. "If you'd actually added that, they'd have spotted it as a hoax immediately. No way it would've been published."

"The Daily Prophet has loads of Slytherin grads. They'd never let you insult their House like that.

"Even Rita Skeeter knows better. She'll mock Dumbledore as a senile old loon and drag professors through the dirt, but she never touches the Houses."

"Fair enough, I was only joking," Fred muttered, though from the look on his face, he wasn't entirely kidding.

"Oh, and here—take this too." George pulled a worn piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harold.

"You were looking for something that would let you track what everyone in the castle is doing, right?"

"Well, we've got just the thing," George said smugly. "Fred, shall we show our heir to Slytherin something special?"

"My pleasure." Fred placed his wand on the parchment and whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Instantly, fine lines of ink spread across the parchment like a spiderweb, connecting and expanding until they formed a detailed map of Hogwarts.

At the top, in elegant green script, were the words:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

Are proud to present—The Marauder's Map!

The map covered every part of the Hogwarts castle—from the Entrance Hall to the eighth floor, the Astronomy Tower, even the grounds and greenhouses.

Tiny black dots moved across the map, each labeled in minuscule print with a name.

Harold could see Hermione leaving the library. If she kept walking down that corridor, she'd run right into Filch coming from the third floor.

"To the great Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs—we don't know who they are, but we salute them," George said solemnly for once.

"They're like teachers and friends all at once," Fred added.

"Hope it helps you too."

"It already does." Harold took the parchment, smiling as he watched the names move across the surface.

…

Soon, half the holiday was over, and the twins' letter appeared in the paper—on the front page, just like before.

According to inside sources, second-year Gryffindor student Ollivander has admitted to opening the Chamber of Secrets and vowed to destroy it before the start of term.

"I learned the truth a week after school began. I saw Salazar Slytherin in the castle—he told me the Chamber's location and that I was destined to carry on his will…"

Rita Skeeter had directly rewritten the letter to sound like Harold himself was narrating.

The young Ollivander considers it a great honor and even boasted about it at the Christmas feast. He brushed aside any doubts from others and confided in friends that being Slytherin's heir was stressful. Whenever the pressure builds up, he releases the monster from the Chamber, which he claims brings him peace and joy…

After his secret was exposed, young Ollivander reluctantly agreed to destroy the Chamber the night before term resumes, alongside Albus Dumbledore.

…

"We never said that!" Fred shouted as he read the article. "She completely made it up. We never said anything about stress or releasing monsters!"

"Of course, I believe you," Harold said casually. "For Rita Skeeter, this is standard practice. Honestly, if she had written it just like you did, I'd start wondering if you'd hit her with the Imperius Curse."

"But now it's not funny anymore," George grumbled.

Their original version told the tale of a Gryffindor-placed Slytherin heir who visited the Chamber after classes to have tea with his fanged servant. Now it was just Harold's identity being revealed and him reluctantly agreeing to destroy the Chamber. That wasn't what they had intended at all.

But Harold didn't mind. The bits he wanted included were still there. The rest didn't matter.

After all, in Hogwarts, hardly anyone believed the story—and most were his friends. Even if the paper painted him as the next Dark Lord, it didn't affect him in the slightest.

His parents and grandfather weren't even in the country—they wouldn't see the Daily Prophet.

The only real nuisance was the flood of letters. For now, they were just regular ones, but it wouldn't be long before Howlers started showing up.

That, too, was easily fixed. That night, Harold went to the kitchens and asked a house-elf named Gulu for help.

It was Harry who had inspired the idea.

Harry had once mentioned that during the holidays, Dobby had stolen all his mail without him knowing.

If Dobby could do that, surely other house-elves could too.

When Harold explained what he needed, the kitchen elves immediately agreed. They even stuffed his pockets with cake and cookies on the way out.

And the very next day, not a single letter arrived.

Everything returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

Harold spent his days carving runes into wand shafts, occasionally playing chess with Harry, and checking the Marauder's Map.

It was as though the Daily Prophet articles had nothing to do with him.

Then, on the morning before term started again, a loud explosion rocked the dormitory, scaring everyone.

People in the common room rushed upstairs and saw Harold standing at the doorway to his room.

His hair was sticking straight up, his face was covered in soot, and his robes were in tatters.

"Harold, you—"

"It's nothing, nothing. Just a little mistake," Harold said, still a bit shaken as he patted his face.

Good thing he'd moved fast. Maybe he shouldn't have given Hagrid the troll wand just yet. What a waste of a three-headed dog hair.

The others were rattled too. They knew Harold had a habit of wrecking the dorm, but they hadn't expected him to level the place.

At this rate, by the time he graduated, the Gryffindor tower might not even exist anymore.

"Need a hand?" Harry peeked into the room. "We can help."

"No need. I can handle it."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Once the others left, Harold went back in to clean up. Thankfully, dragonblood wood didn't explode too violently. Even the desk, blown in half, could be fixed with a simple Reparo.

"If only I had a wand that boosted the Reparo spell," Harold thought as he reached into a torn robe pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment.

It was the Marauder's Map, courtesy of the Weasley twins. Thankfully, it had survived the blast.

He glanced at it—and suddenly froze.

In just one night, the map had changed dramatically.

New, unfamiliar names had appeared across the castle.

At the map's edge, Hagrid had just returned from Hogsmeade—but right beside him was another name: Rita Skeeter.

On the second floor, Harold spotted Colin Creevey and Cedric Diggory. Both had chosen to go home for the holidays—yet here they were, back at school early.

And they weren't alone. A few other names Harold didn't recognize, probably upper-year students, had returned too.

As he stared, Luna Lovegood appeared on the map.

In the dungeons, Severus Snape, absent all holiday, now showed up in his office. Next door—his private storeroom.

And in the Slytherin common room, which had been empty the whole break, one name had appeared: Draco Malfoy.

But curiously, his usual companions—Crabbe and Goyle—weren't with him this time.

…

(End of Chapter)