In the dim light of her office, Rita Skeeter was working on her next article when an owl slipped through the window, deposited a letter and a package onto the desk, and took flight back outside without waiting for a response. The event caught her completely off guard; it was impossible for a bird to reach her desk directly without passing through the newspaper's filtering charms—an indispensable security measure to neutralize Howlers or curses sent by enraged readers. The owl shouldn't have been able to bypass the barriers... unless the sender knew how to evade them.
Then she recognized the wax seal on the envelope and the meticulous wrapping of the package: it was the exact same style as the anonymous material that had handed her the Ministry duel exclusive on a silver platter.
Rita took the envelope and, after performing a couple of quick diagnostic charms to rule out hidden risks, tore it open impatiently. She sensed that her mysterious informant was about to gift her another media bombshell. The coverage of Lucius Malfoy's death had already earned her exorbitant prestige, and her ambitious eyes were expecting something equally juicy.
Soon, her pupils darted hungrily across the lines of the letter while examining the batch of attached photographs. In the first, a group of female students could be seen in an opulent room equipped with every luxury, training in a dueling arena or debating tactics in front of a chalkboard; the second captured the same girls, panic etched onto their faces and wands raised high, beholding the massive shed skin of a gigantic serpent; the third showed them catching up to Percy, whose face looked distorted and grotesque; and the last was a blurry shot of the floor, feet moving rapidly among flashes of light, captured in the midst of the chaos of battle.
Rita blinked frantically. Unable to contain her excitement, she squirmed in her chair as she devoured every detail. The moment she finished reading, she leapt to her feet, yanked open her office door, and poked her head out into the newsroom to shout at the top of her lungs:
"Tell the editor to stop the presses and prepare the front page! We have a colossal exclusive that needs to drop right now!"
Her voice stirred up a true hornet's nest outside. Without wasting a second, Rita returned to her desk, settled into her seat, and let her Quick-Quotes Quill begin scraping against the parchment with fury.
...
The following morning, the Great Hall of Hogwarts was taken by storm by a genuine tide of owls carrying both family correspondence and morning editions of The Daily Prophet.
Up until that point, only confused rumors had circulated through the corridors; the students knew that the threat of the Chamber of Secrets had been neutralized, but it wasn't until that morning that the complete story fell into their hands.
The front cover featured an animated photographic collage of the young women in heroic, determined postures, spearheaded by a headline that opened with: "THE HEROINES OF HOGWARTS..."
The images, subjected to subtle magical retouching to heighten the drama, displayed a group of students standing tall against a mortal danger. The text of the article was a monument to the most emotional and embellished sensacionalism. It recounted in lavish detail how a group of young girls, fearful for their safety in the face of institutional incompetence, felt forced to organize themselves to combat the horrors plaguing the school under Dumbledore's administration. The report explained how they had to put their academic duties on hold to train as soldiers and confront the threat on their own, restoring peace to corridors the school had been incapable of protecting.
To top it off, the piece included a sinister twist by revealing that the mastermind behind the tragedy was a former student who had left behind a cursed diary—the very same artifact linked to the Ministry incident. The article detailed how, despite having been destroyed, the dark object still exerted its reign of terror by manipulating one of its former possessors, until the brave young women put an end to it.
The name of Tom Riddle, an unknown ghost to the vast majority of the public, resurfaced in the pages of the newspaper, though the most attentive readers were quick to piece together the clues from previous publications.
Furthermore, in one of the secondary sidebars, Rita Skeeter had complied to the letter with one of her "anonymous informant's" explicit requests: an extensive report that unearthed the case of Rubeus Hagrid, exposing how he had been framed unjustly decades ago and proclaiming his innocence to the magical world, all thanks to the daring investigation of the young women.
Beyond the heroic narrative—underpinned by mostly true facts—the article dealt severe blows to the authorities. Albus Dumbledore was portrayed as the face of negligence and incompetence. Under other circumstances, the more conservative factions would have capitalized on such a scandal to demand the Headmaster's dismissal; however, with Lucius Malfoy out of the picture and no one possessing enough political leverage to formalize the decree of expulsion, his removal from Hogwarts was never actually materialized.
The one who suffered a crushing blow was Cornelius Fudge. Although the article didn't explicitly brand him incompetent, the juxtaposition with previous editions left his reputation in tatters. The Minister had barely learned of the case's resolution the previous afternoon and was in the middle of designing a media strategy to claim credit, when this piece came out to deal him a public slap in the face. He rushed out enraged to try to contain the crisis, but the damage was irreversible: the papers were already being read in thousands of households, and the tide of public opinion was unstoppable.
In his office, Fudge crumpled the copy of The Daily Prophet so violently that the pages threatened to tear between his fingers, while his blood pressure reached critical levels. He had never anticipated such a dirty play, and he experienced a vehement urge to strangle the newspaper's editorial board. The idea of subjecting the media to absolute state control began to take firm root in his mind, but for the time being, he had no choice but to swallow his anger and desperately search for a way to cover up his own miseries.
Meanwhile, the girls in the hospital wing were pleasantly surprised by the avalanche of visitors, especially once they realized the true reason behind the commotion. Seeing themselves projected onto the front page of the most influential newspaper in the British magical world produced a mixture of astonishment and euphoria.
They were no longer heroines merely in private or because I had dubbed them as such. No; just as Cho had mentioned at the time, they were now true celebrities in the eyes of magical society. Fame hit them with all its weight when those curious onlookers who had previously come to probe returned armed with the detailed, embellished version of the report, eager to meet the "brave students" in person. It is worth noting that the impact was dizzying among the male population: while they were previously recognized by the students who frequented the Guard, only now did the rest of the school realize how captivating their group truly was. Under this halo of heroic notoriety, their appeal seemed to have shot up several tiers at once.
However, while they tried to navigate the embarrassment, overwhelm, and excitement of being the center of attention, the atmosphere was considerably more bitter for others. In the adjacent cots, Harry and Ron observed the scene with resignation. Up until the day before, they too had enjoyed their share of attention, feeling almost as celebrated as the girls; but now their beds stood deserted. Their own "ordeal" was relegated to a rather pathetic role, if not outright ridiculous. While the group of girls had resolved the crisis of the Chamber, they had been battling a fraud of a professor whom they should have neutralized with a simple spell. Torn between envy and embarrassment, they could at least take solace in the fact that the nightmare had finally come to an end.
Madam Pomfrey endured chaotic days, to the point of ultimately banning visitors altogether until her troublesome patients were discharged, which didn't take long to happen. The young women, who could well be considered the most battered by the conflict, were not in a critical condition that justified a transfer to St. Mungo's. Their injuries, though severe, were mostly physical; the lingering dark magic they carried was concerning, but thanks to my amulets, it was reduced to a superficial discomfort that Snape's potions and the Mediwitch's care were quick to eradicate.
In this manner, the girls left the hospital wing, though some retained lingering effects that would take time to fully heal. Several emerged leaning on crutches, held up by casts, or hunched over from the pain of battered ribs. These ailments, invisible until that moment, surfaced as soon as they removed my amulets: a small, muffled gasp of pain sealed the instant the accumulated damage, previously dampened, made itself felt. They were the inevitable marks of battle, consequences deliberately calculated by me so they would experience firsthand the weight of effort, and so the school would witness the sacrifices they made for others. Naturally, I made sure it remained nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. For my part, and much to my chagrin, I gained a certain amount of collateral notoriety thanks to the crafting of the amulets, though I was cataloged more as a skilled artisan and behind-the-scenes alchemist than an active combatant—a label I willingly accepted, as it did not interfere with my true objectives.
All in all, everything was progressing smoothly. The girls had endured a genuine baptism by fire, maturing and refining their skills while their reputation reached its peak both inside and outside the walls of Hogwarts. Rubeus Hagrid was released following the publication of the diary, being formally exonerated from a crime he never committed. Even the petrified students were restored to normal thanks to the Mandrake Restorative Draught, and peace seemed to settle over the castle once more.
Even Cornelius Fudge managed to weather the storm in his own way. Although various journalists tried to infiltrate the school to land exclusive interviews with the "heroines" and the staff, Dumbledore locked down the grounds to avoid disrupting the academic calendar. Nevertheless, the press didn't walk away empty-handed: they managed to corner the professor from Castelobruxo and his students, who did not hesitate to harshly criticize the Minister for deploying a ridiculous operation blaming the Acromantula colony when they had no connection whatsoever to the attacks.
However, putting his twisted political cunning to use, Fudge managed to wash his hands of the matter by using Gilderoy Lockhart as a scapegoat. The famous fraud was credited with more crimes, sharpness, and malice than he ever possessed. It remains unknown what kind of behind-the-scenes deal the Minister negotiated with him, but Lockhart ended up confessing that he was seeking material for his next bestselling novel; he claimed that despite knowing the identity of the Heir of Slytherin, he concealed the information to aggrandize his own narrative and "even" used his mastery of mind magic to bewitch the Minister, deliberately diverting his attention toward the spiders.
Overnight, Lockhart was set up as a "criminal mastermind," while Fudge was portrayed as just another victim of his manipulations. The Minister seized the opportunity to offer a public apology for failing to detect the deception in time, using the platform to deliver a bombastic speech on the need to remain vigilant against dark wizards, arguing that even an official of his caliber could fall prey to their tricks. Thus, he managed to shake off much of the discredit, burying the rest of the scandal under the iron grip of the state media apparatus.