The Daily Prophet

Time passed quickly, and October arrived. Hogwarts had been in session for more than a month.

Unlike first year, second-year coursework was noticeably heavier. Every day, Harry and Ron practically begged Edmund to let them "reference" his homework.

Edmund did not care much, but Hermione's look of judgment always made Harry and Ron feel as though borrowing homework were a terrible crime.

One morning, Edmund came to the Great Hall for breakfast as usual and discovered many young witches and wizards staring at him with worshipful eyes.

That left him puzzled.

He was already famous at school, but never like this, as if half the students wanted to devour him with their eyes.

"What is going on?" he asked Cho quietly.

"I do not know either," Cho said, equally confused.

Then Colin Creevey suddenly ran over and shouted excitedly, "Amazing! Edmund, can I take a photograph? I knew you were kind!"

Edmund stared at him. What was wrong with this boy now?

"Colin," he asked gently, forcing down the urge to toss the child away, "can you tell me what happened?"

"You do not know? You are in the Daily Prophet! Edmund, it turns out you have such a great dream."

By the end, Colin was actually choking up.

Edmund almost sighed. Colin had been talking for ages and still had not reached the point, but Edmund caught the key words: Daily Prophet.

He quickly had Cho bring him a newspaper and began reading. Sure enough, on the second page, a bright headline occupied a large section.

Genius Wizard Edmund Gaunt: Researching Wolfsbane Potion for Peace in the Magical World. Edmund had not expected Wolfsbane Potion to make the paper.

It was probably Snape's work, meant to build momentum for him. Edmund did not mind and continued reading.

According to the article, Edmund Gaunt was a second-year student of extraordinary talent and striking appearance, but the most moving thing about him was his dream.

An entire page was devoted to him and the value of Wolfsbane Potion.

What left Edmund speechless was the article's claim that, although he had been an orphan raised in the Muggle world, he had always preserved a kind heart.

The paper fabricated several touching little stories about his difficult life, his tireless study, and his willingness to help classmates. It claimed he had seen the suffering of werewolf wizards, could not bear their plight, personally developed Wolfsbane Potion, and then published the recipe for free.

After reading it, Edmund was almost moved by the version of himself in the paper. He had not known his life had been so difficult. Cho finished reading beside him and looked at him with a strange expression.

Edmund patted her head and said dryly, "They did not pay me a single Galleon. I do not know why they wrote it like this. Perhaps this is simply my image in everyone's heart."

Cho straightened the hair he had messed up. She had no words for his vanity.

Soon, every young witch and wizard knew the article's contents. Some emotional girls wiped their eyes after reading the invented stories.

A few of them looked as though they wanted to give Edmund a hug, and Cho had to block them. Edmund endured those eyes, finished breakfast quickly with Cho, and prepared to find Snape.

He wanted to ask the professor what sort of dramatic stunt this was. In Snape's office, Edmund sat across from the Potions master.

"Professor, this article is absurd. If they had bothered to investigate at all, they would not have written those stories."

Snape looked helpless as he listened to the complaint.

He had merely asked a few old friends to help build momentum for Edmund. One of those friends happened to be an editor at the Daily Prophet, so he had mentioned it.

He had not expected them to turn it into such a large story. Of course, Snape would never admit his mistake to Edmund.

"It is meant to stir public sympathy," he said stiffly, "so Fudge can act more smoothly."

"He will not miss a chance to collect public approval. Your Order of Merlin is secure. The only question is which class."

Edmund had to admit Snape had a point. The matter had already happened, so he accepted it.

For the rest of the day, owls kept delivering letters to Edmund. Some thanked him for his contribution to werewolf wizards. Some expressed sympathy for his allegedly difficult life. Several sent gifts.

Sorting the letters and parcels took him and the others an entire afternoon.

To maintain his public image, Edmund replied to every letter, especially those from werewolf wizards. He made sure to mention that a shop in Knockturn Alley had already begun selling Wolfsbane Potion, and that payment could be delayed if necessary.

It was a method for recruiting werewolf wizards. Most werewolf wizards had excellent combat ability. Their reaction speed and physical strength were far beyond ordinary wizards. With a little training and a few strong spells, they would become a reliable force.

Edmund enchanted several quills and had them write replies automatically, reducing the workload greatly. At last, before dinner, all the work was finished.

The gifts were returned. Edmund was not truly a poor wizard in need, and taking them would be unwise.

Sure enough, at dinner, Dumbledore announced that Cornelius Fudge would come to Hogwarts on Saturday to award Edmund the Order of Merlin, Third Class, in recognition of his contribution.

Lockhart's face looked rather ugly.

He had not expected the young wizard who kept opposing him to suddenly receive the same honor he liked to boast about.

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