Chapter 121: The Marauder

That night, the Weasley brothers actually sent the letter, as Silven requested, addressed to Rita Skeeter.

They also helped refine many details, such as how Silven had found the Chamber under fate’s guidance, and his inner thoughts upon learning he was Slytherin’s heir.

Silven read their finished draft—it was indistinguishable from the truth, emotionally rich and logically sound… If it bore a different name, he might truly have believed it was Slytherin’s memoir.

“You should consider working for the Daily Prophet after graduation—there’s great potential there,” Silven said sincerely.

“We’ll think about it,” they replied with smiles.

“Do you think they’ll publish it?”

“Should be fine,” Silven said after a moment’s thought. “Nothing big has happened lately, and this involves Salazar Slytherin from a thousand years ago—exactly what they love.”

“Good,” both said, their expressions eager.

“When term starts, we’ll tell everyone the letter was all made up—that you never said any of that,” George suddenly grinned.

“What do you think they’ll do then?”

“They’ll pretend not to notice,” Silven said. “By the way, did you write the exact time in the letter?”

“Of course, everything’s written down—guaranteed,” Fred said. “The Chamber’s already open. You’ll destroy everything inside the night before term begins.”

“Good,” Silven nodded.

“But is that even necessary?” Fred asked. “That detail doesn’t add much credibility.”

“I’d say better to write about you dreaming of Salazar Slytherin while sleeping,” Fred cleared his throat and imitated a grizzled voice.

“Slytherins are all fools—they don’t deserve to be in my house! Only Gryffindors can truly inherit my will!”

“That’s way too fake,” Silven said, recoiling in disgust. “If you added that, everyone would know it was fabricated—and it’d never get published.”

“The Daily Prophet has plenty of Slytherin graduates—they won’t let you smear Slytherin like this.”

“Rita Skeeter knows this well. She’s called Dumbledore an old lunatic and spun tales about professors, but she never touches house loyalty.”

“I know. I was just joking,” Fred muttered.

But his expression suggested he meant it—he truly wanted to write that.

“By the way, take this too,” George pulled a worn piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Silven.

“Aren’t you looking for something that lets you know what’s happening in the castle while you’re in your dorm?”

“Lucky for you, we actually have just such a thing,” George said proudly. “Come on, Fred—let our Slytherin heir see what he’s been missing.”

“No problem,” Fred drew his wand, gently placed it on the parchment, and whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Instantly, fine ink lines spread like a spiderweb, connecting and extending to every corner of the parchment, forming a complete map of Hogwarts.

At the top, in elegant green cursive script:

【The Marauders—Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs—presenting the Marauder’s Map for the benefit of magical pranksters!】

The map covered every inch of Hogwarts Castle—from the entrance hall to the eighth floor, the Astronomy Tower, the grounds, and even the greenhouses.

Dozens of tiny black dots moved across it, labeled in minuscule script with names.

Silven saw Hermione just leaving the library; ahead, down the corridor, Filch was descending from the third floor.

“Great Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” George said, unusually serious. “I don’t know who they are, but I salute them. They helped us a lot.”

“Like teachers. Like friends,” Fred added.

“Hope it helps you too.”

“It will,” Silven took the parchment, glanced at the names, and smiled.

…

Soon, half the holiday had passed, and the letter the Weasley brothers sent finally appeared in the newspaper—same as before, front page.

【According to insiders, Gryffindor second-year Ollivander has admitted to opening the Chamber and promises to destroy it completely before term resumes.】

【I learned of this a week after term began. That day, I saw Salazar Slytherin in the castle—he told me the Chamber’s location and said I was destined to inherit his consciousness…】

Rita Skeeter had rewritten the letter’s content to sound exactly as if Silven had spoken it himself…

【The young Ollivander considered it a great honor and boasted about it at the Christmas feast, dismissing all criticism.】

【But in private conversations, he confessed that being Slytherin’s heir weighed heavily on him—whenever he felt this pressure, he released the Chamber’s monster to attack others, which brought him deep satisfaction…】

【After his secret was exposed, the young Ollivander reluctantly decided to destroy the Chamber the night before term began, alongside Albus Dumbledore.】

…

“We never said any of that,” Fred said, staring at the paper. “She made this up. We never said you felt pressure, let alone that you’d release the monster.”

“Of course I believe you,” Silven said offhandedly. “For Rita Skeeter, this is basic procedure. If she’d written your version exactly, I’d suspect you used the Imperius Curse on her.”

“But now it’s not funny at all,” George grumbled.

They’d written a story about a Slytherin heir sorted into Gryffindor, sneaking off after class to drink tea with his fanged servant.

But after Rita Skeeter’s rewrite, it became Silven exposed and forced to destroy the Chamber—completely different from their intent, not even the same story.

But Silven didn’t care—he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. The rest didn’t matter.

He was at Hogwarts, where few people didn’t know him, and most were his friends. Even if the paper called him the second Dark Lord, it wouldn’t affect him at all.

Besides, his parents and grandfather weren’t in Britain—they couldn’t even read the Daily Prophet.

The only trouble was the sudden flood of letters—so far just ordinary ones, but soon they’d likely include Howlers.

But that was easy to fix. That night, Silven went to the kitchen and asked a house-elf named Kreacher for help.

He’d gotten the idea from Harry.

Harry once said that during the holidays, Dobby had stolen all his letters without his knowledge.

If Dobby could do it, other house-elves could too.

Silven explained his request to the elves—they immediately agreed, and as they left, they stuffed his pockets full of cakes and biscuits.

The next day, Silven received not a single letter.

Everything returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.

Silven continued carving runes into his wand daily, occasionally stepped out to play chess with Harry, and stole glances at the parchment beside him.

As if the two Daily Prophet articles had nothing to do with him.

Days passed like this. Then, on the morning before term resumed, a violent explosion erupted in the dorm, startling everyone.

Those in the common room rushed upstairs and saw Silven standing at the dorm door.

His hair stood on end, his face caked in soot, his robe torn into shreds.

“Silven, you—”

“Nothing, nothing. Just a small mishap,” Silven said, touching his face with a shudder.

He’d been lucky to escape in time. He regretted not keeping the troll wand for himself, but what pained him more was wasting a three-headed dog’s whisker.

The others were equally shocked. They knew Silven had a habit of blowing up his dorm—but they never expected him to upgrade to blowing up the whole room this year.

If he kept this up, by graduation, Gryffindor Tower might not exist anymore.

“Need help?” Harry peered cautiously into the dorm. “We can help you.”

“No need. I can handle this myself,” Silven said.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After shooing everyone away, Silven returned to clean up. Fortunately, the dragonwood explosion wasn’t powerful—even the split table could be repaired with a Reparo.

“If only I had a wand that enhanced the Repairing Charm,” Silven thought, first pulling the parchment from another robe’s pocket.

It was the Marauder’s Map the Weasley brothers had given him—thankfully, it hadn’t been damaged.

Silven glanced at it instinctively—and froze. Just one night without looking, the map had changed noticeably.

Several unfamiliar names had appeared.

First, at the map’s edge: Hagrid had just returned from Hogsmeade, but beside him was another name—Rita Skeeter.

On the second floor, Silven saw Colin Creevey and Cedric Diggory—both had gone home for Christmas, yet returned early.

And not just them—several other unfamiliar names, likely upperclassmen, had also returned ahead of schedule.

As Silven stared, Luna Lovegood appeared on the map.

His gaze dropped to the dungeons: Snape, absent all holiday, now appeared in his office—next door, in what should be his private storeroom.

Nearby, in the Slytherin common room—previously empty—now appeared one name: Draco Malfoy.

But strangely, Crabbe and Goyle, usually inseparable from him, were nowhere to be seen.

…

(End of Chapter)