The Hospital Wing quickly became overcrowded, with more students succumbing to the effects of venomous smoke. Potions to treat scorched airways were in short supply, creating an overwhelming demand for replenishment. After completing the antidote for the Swift-Grow Brew – a potion illegal for any wizard to brew – Professor Snape immediately began preparing more potions for the Hospital Wing. Thankfully, he had all the necessary ingredients in his office; without them, the situation could have turned disastrous.


    Relief washed over the staff who gathered in the Great Hall when the juvenile Chimaera finally reverted to its basketball-size infant form. Chimmy, the mother Chimaera, carefully picked up her baby in her mouth before retreating to her cave. Professor Kettleburn accompanied her to inspect the Magical Creatures Reserve’s security.


    Meanwhile, Professor Snape, assisted by a few Hospital Wing interns, worked tirelessly in the dungeons to brew healing potions at an urgent pace. As more students fainted or collapsed on temporary beds in the overcrowded medical room, the need for treatment grew increasingly dire.


    Jessica was among the helpers in the dungeon, assisting her sponsor, her watery eyes betraying her worry for her pale, unconscious sister.


    Fred and George, on the other hand, recovered quickly. A spoonful of Murtlap Mixture did the trick for them. Alexis, though still unconscious, appeared stable after administered a dose of the same potion. Her condition appeared to stem more from magical exhaustion than serious harm. The Weasley twins, having faced similar situations before, felt confident there was no cause for alarm.


    Harry, Hermione, and Ron remained in the Hospital Wing, gathered near Scarlet, who lay soundly on a sickbed. Nearby sat several others, including a coughing Neville perched on a stool, since there were no beds left for patients who could still sit upright.


    Before Scarlet collapsed into unconsciousness, she had managed to scrawl something with a quill, her trembling hand leaving behind shaky and cryptic letters. Hermione studied the note after Scarlet fell into a deep sleep. Clearing her hoarse throat – it seemed nearly everyone in the Hospital Wing was speaking in a raspy voice now – she read aloud, “Scarlet says, ‘Be creative when answering the journalist, act like a Slytherin’.”


    The trio exchanged confused glances. Even Fred and George, who had spent hours with Scarlet, couldn’t decipher her intention. The one person who might have make sense of her words had collapsed before her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for further speculation as Madame Pomfrey, flustered and exasperated, promptly ushered everyone except the most critical injured out of the Hospital Wing – including Alexis, who remained soundly unconscious in George’s arms.


    “Outrageous! That insufferable Gilderoy Lockhart!” The Matron muttered furiously as she tended to students injured by glass shards. “I’ve heard complaints about his incompetence, but staging such a reckless scheme? Unforgivable!”


    Fred and George shared a knowing look, shrugged in unison, and made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, carrying the unconscious Alexis in George’s arms. As they returned to a raucous common room where cheers and applause erupted upon their arrival. Their peers praised their heroic actions, though an undercurrent of nervousness about the aftermath lingered.


    “Classes are cancelled, and everything’s a mess now,” Lavender said, her voice laced with worry. “What’s going to happen to our Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons? Where will we eat with the Great Hall in ruins? Will Lockhart be sent to Azkaban? Could Hogwarts be shut down because of all this?! What’ll happen to us?”


    Her final question sent a ripple of anxiety through the younger students, but the older ones quickly reassured them. “Hogwarts won’t close down so easily,” A sixth-year said with a dismissive wave. “We’ll manage, even if it’s a rough time for the professors. Classes are probably cancelled tomorrow too, so enjoy the break while it lasts.”


    The Weasley twins mulled over the entire incident after putting Alexis back to her room. Deciding to take the initiative, they resolved to report everything to Professor McGonagall themselves. Scarlet’s words about being creative echoed in their minds, inspiring them to cheerfully fabricate a full story to save others from the burden of explanation.


    “We couldn’t possibly let Alexis and the others deal with McGonagall’s questions when they’re injured and unwell!” Fred declared dramatically, sighing for added effect.


    “So, we’ll report to McGonagall now,” George added confidently. “I’m sure she’ll take appropriate action once we explain.”


    Their peers in Gryffindor Tower watched the twins prepare for the task with exaggerated solemnity, as if they were soldiers marching off to war. Amid hugs and well-wishes, the twins took a deep breath and left the common room.


    The others didn’t see Fred and George again until dinner time, which was held in the common room. The Great Hall remained closed as staff worked to remove scorch marks and venom left by the Chimaera – a dangerous task unsuitable for the inexperienced. When the twins finally returned, broad grins stretched across their faces.


    “The whole incident will be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow!” Fred announced triumphantly. “No need to rephrase the story for everyone. You’ll know all the juicy details soon enough.”


    “Right now, we’re starving,” George added as their classmates erupted into laughter and cheers.


    Lee Jordan gave them a hearty clap on the shoulder. “Glad that’s sorted. Now go grab something to eat – you both look shattered.”


    Fred sighed theatrically and rubbed his shoulder. Angelina wasted no time pushing him into a chair and starting a massage, while Alicia took charge of George. Seamus handed them cups of pumpkin juice, and other diced their steak for them, practically feeding the twins like they were invalids. Exhausted but amused, the twins accepted the pampering without complaint.


    Between bites, George instructed, “Make sure to save some for Alexis. She’ll need a lot when she wakes up.”


    Thomas Knight, one of the prefects, who had stayed to assist at the scene until the last minute, chimed in thoughtfully. “She really burned herself out casting that spell, didn’t she? It was incredible! But I’ve never seen anything like it before. Did she invent it? If she registers it with the Ministry, it could earn her a fortune.”


    The twins exchanged a look before Fred replied, “You’ll have to ask her. We don’t know much about that spell either.”


    George added, “Though I wouldn’t count on her remembering much. Last time we asked about her duelling Snape, she said her mind went blank, and she couldn’t recall exactly what she’d done.”


    “Fair enough,” Thomas said with a nod. “I’d go blank too if I were facing a fire-breathing Chimaera.”


    The group descended into a chorus of creative curses aimed at Lockhart, whose absence only fuelled their disdain. Even his staunchest fans were beginning to contemplate turning his books into ashes.


    The next morning, the twins and a groggy Alexis – who had woken in the middle of the night, squinting her eyes before devoured all the leftovers meant for her (much more than anyone thought her body could handle, devoured with wide-opened mouth) and fallen back asleep, practically dead to the world – prepared to visit Scarlet in the Hospital wing. Alexis looked zombie-like but resolute as the three left the common room after breakfast.


    An announcement informed the school that classes were cancelled for another day; too many students were still recovering from the previous day’s chaos.


    Unlike Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were discharged from the Hospital Wing yesterday at noon and narrowly escaped interrogation from an army of frenzied journalists, Scarlet remained confined to her bed. She had regained consciousness during dinner last night, but Madame Pomfrey had sternly ordered her to stay another day, forbidding her from leaving the hospital wing.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    When the group arrived at Scarlet’s bedside, they found her reading the latest issue of Daily Prophet. Her expression was one of amused disbelief.


    “I hear you two were the main contributors to the story for yesterday’s journalists?” Scarlet greeted Fred and George with a teasing smile. “I said to be creative when answering, but I didn’t expect that level of creativity.”


    “What story?” Alexis asked, her confusion growing. Scarlet handed her the newspaper, and Alexis’s eyes widened as she scanned the headlines.


    “Oh. My. Merlin. ‘Harry Potter Breaks Down as He Recalls Heroic Battle with the Savage Beast’? ‘Chosen One Stands Between Students and Certain Death’? This is, like, so fake! Who’s writing this... Rita Skeeter – should''ve known. Seriously? She’s making it sound like Harry single-handedly wrestled the Chimaera or something.”


    She flipped through the pages frantically. “Ten whole pages about the ‘horrifying ordeal at Hogwarts’? And look at this!” Alexis jabbed her finger at another column. “Half the paper is just going on and on about how ‘unsafe’ our school is. As if there aren’t, like, a million more interesting things happening in the wizarding world right now?”


    Scarlet shrugged nonchalantly, taking a sip of her congee that Jiffy, the Hogwarts house-elf, had brought her – delivered at her request through a note to the kitchen by a kind-hearted Hufflepuff senior who had been discharged from the Hospital Wing not long ago. “Perhaps there really isn’t anything else. With such a small population and an equally useless Ministry, there isn’t much to print – other than the escape of Peter Pettigrew, of course. The Ministry is probably delighted to have other headlines overshadowing a fugitive’s escape.”


    Fred and George wrestled the paper from a fuming Alexis, eagerly scrolling to the account they had apparently inspired when reporting the even to Professor McGonagall yesterday. Moments later, they both exclaimed, “This isn’t the version we told them!”


    “Well then, what did you even tell them?” Alexis inquired, her arms crossed. Scarlet watched with amusement, clearly eager for the twins’ explanation.


    Fred started, “When we went to report to McGonagall yesterday, her office was crammed. Aurors, Ministry officials, journalists – everyone was there, ready with cameras and Quick-Quotes Quills.”


    George continued, “We thought we’d have time to prepare and come back later, but they insisted we speak right then and there. So we got creative, as Scarlet suggested.”


    Fred grinned mischievously. “We told them we’d been keeping an eye on Lockhart because mum is such a big fan of his. She wouldn’t stop talking about him at home, so we thought we’d watch him and, you know, prank him a bit if we got the chance.”


    George picked up the thread. “But then we saw how useless he was in his first class – couldn''t even fend off a second-year. Don’t worry, Scarlet; we kept your name out of it. Figured you wouldn’t want this kind of attention.”


    Fred smirked. “After that, we started suspecting all his stories in those autobiographies weren’t his own. Either he made the lot up, or he paid adventurers to hand over their tales. So, we decided to whip up a potion – a sort of truth serum, though not Veritaserum, mind you. That’s far too expensive and, well, technically illegal to brew - to get the real story out of him.”


    George leaned forward conspiratorially. “While we were working on the potion, he proved just how hopeless he was. He lost a duel to a fourth-year student who wasn’t particularly talented in any subject. Again, no worries, Are-chan – we kept your name out too. Figured you’d rather not deal with this circus either. Then we noticed he started acting desperate.”


    Fred said with mock seriousness. “We saw him in Hogsmeade looking a bit rough – bruises, even. Suspicious, wouldn’t you say? But we didn’t have the faintest clue what he was up to until one of our friends mentioned spotting him skulking about near the reserve. And yep, Are-chan, that was your valuable insight. Thumbs up.”


    “So,” George said dramatically, “we figured we’d better be ready. Something to calm or knock out whatever chaos he might stir up. We got some potions from our brewing-savvy friend – shoutout to Jesssica for selling her extra supplies, despite Snape breathing down her neck. Poor girl, Snape probably expects her to outdo even her standards.”


    Fred took over, his grin widening. “Then came the grand finale. A juvenile Chimaera, its furious mother, Lockhart looking like a shiny but useless knight trying to play hero, and Harry nailing the Calming and Sleeping Draught right into the mother Chimaera’s mouth. That’s the only part we even mentioned Harry.”


    “By the end of it,” George added, “Ronniekin, with Hermione’s help, had captured Lockhart. They forced the truth out of him with our prototype truth serum. The whole hall heard him admit he staged the whole thing and that he’d been stealing memories from real adventurers to fake his fame.”


    The twins frowned in unison. “We were pretty sure our story was creative enough already.”


    “And,” Fred said, puffing up with pride, “we followed Scarlet’s instructions to the letter - acting like a proper Slytherins and shifting all the highlight moments onto ourselves. What a move! We’re practically advertising for our joke shop before it’s even open, and it didn’t cost us a Knut.”


    Alexis rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously, Rita Skeeter’s like light-years ahead of you guys in the creativity department. She can whip up a whole story outta thin air with, like, one measly sentence from whoever she’s interviewing! You two better go grovel to Harry and say you’re sorry later.”


    The Weasley twins retorted in unison, “How were we supposed to know Skeeter would drag Harry into all of it?”


    “And Draco Malfoy? Fred threw up his hands. “How is he even part of this? We didn’t mention him at all!”


    “Politics,” Scarlet said dismissively, setting down her empty bowl of congee with a sigh of relief. “Don’t waste your precious inventor brains on that mess. Save them for something more worthwhile. Anyway, make sure to check on Harry later. He’s bound to be annoyed by all the attention this nonsense will bring. I’m guessing half the students have already bought into Skeeter’s so-called facts. And don’t be surprised if we’re hounded by reporters even during the Christmas holiday. That’ll be a pain to deal with.”


    Alexis noticed Scarlet’s words carried an undertone of unspoken concerns. “So, like, should I hit up Dumbledore about this? I mean, isn’t this kinda his thing? Maybe he could, like, tell the newspaper paper to back off or whatever and leave the students alone?”


    Scarlet nodded and picked up another stack of papers – delivered earlier by Neville, whom she had encouraged to take a few days off from assisting her to properly rest. As she began leafing through the pile, she remarked. “You can try. He’ll definitely take action, but I wouldn’t hold my breath for it to be all that effective.”


    Alexis furrowed her brows. “The paparazzi won’t care much about regular students, but they’ll totally swarm Harry – and, like, all the ‘side characters’ in the story. Sirius’ll block anyone near Harry, Draco’s dad’ll handle the nags, and the Weasleys’ll stick with us. Plus, I totally trust the Red House for security... Hermione? Should we, like, take precautions for her? Maybe invite her crash with us in the Red House?”


    Scarlet shook her head, her voice calm yet knowing. “They’ll lose interest in her soon enough. Pureblood supremacy still has deep roots in the wizarding world. Hermione’s not famous enough to stay on their radar. Stories about Potter, Weasley, and Malfoy are much more lucrative. The sales for those issues will skyrocket, and the papers will rake in even more Galleons from the added advertising.”


    “Galleons over Galleons,” Alexis sighed, while Fred and George started to look noticeably detached, their attention drifting somewhere else.


    Scarlet casually picked up the Daily Prophet again, her gaze lingering on the byline at the bottom of the article - Rita Skeeter. With a faint smirk, she remarked, “Honestly, Skeeter would’ve made a brilliant soap opera writer or novelist. She’d earn a fortune and attract a lot less hatred. Why on earth she decided to become a journalist instead?”


    “Who even knows. Maybe she’s just way more into twisting words and making up stories,” Alexis said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I’m heading to Dumbledore now. So, boys, you sticking around here or coming with me?”


    “Not with you, and not with Scarlet,” Fred quipped.


    “We’ve got a meeting with the Aurors,” George said, a smug grin spreading across his face. “They’re interested in our truth serum.”


    Fred nodded. “Possibly a contract for using our serum – since it has fewer side effects than Veritaserum. Might help cover up our losses after we officially announce that Spill-an-Out biscuits are off the market, seeing as they’re a bit too close to Veritaserum.”


    “Yup, definitely not breaking any rules,” George added with a nod. “So, we’re off to the meeting now...”


    Alexis’s eyebrows arched, then grabbed them each by an arm and began dragging them toward the door. “Uh-uh, no way! You’re not meeting anyone without me making sure you don’t sign something stupid. Seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to slip in some sneaky clauses or whatever. You two are coming with me to see Dumbledore first, then we’ll meet the Aurors together. Is Shacklebolt in on this?”


    “Uh, yeah?” Fred said hesitantly.


    “Good,” Alexis said with finality. “At least he’s someone we can count on.” As she dragged them along, she threw a quick goodbye over her shoulder to Scarlet, muttering under her breath, “You two seriously need to brush up on contract stuff or something. Maybe hire a decent lawyer if it comes down to it... Wait, does the wizarding world even have lawyers? Ugh, whatever. Just, like, clear your heads and actually pay attention for once...”


    Her voice faded as she and the protesting twins disappeared down the corridor, leaving Scarlet alone in blissful silence – or what would have been blissful if not for the near-constant stream of visitors.


    The Matron bustled in, her expression one of mild exasperation and surprise. “You really are quite popular, aren’t you?”


    Scarlet offered a wry smile, tugging another paper closer. “Perhaps?”