Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

Harry returned to Hogwarts with a heavy sense of dread, though the castle itself seemed alive with celebration. The corridors buzzed with chatter, laughter echoed off the stone walls, and the occasional burst of magic punctuated the festive atmosphere as students showed off newly mastered spells. It was a stark contrast to the tension twisting in Harry's chest.

Despite the apparent normalcy, Harry's instincts screamed that something was wrong. He moved quickly through the crowded halls, scanning for any sign of trouble. His steps quickened as the nagging sense of unease grew.

It wasn't long before he spotted his friends—Cedric, Roger, Alicia, and Reggy—lounging near the entrance to the Great Hall. They were laughing at some shared joke, their faces bright with the carefree joy of students who had just finished exams. But the moment they saw Harry, their expressions changed. Relief flickered briefly before being replaced by concern.

"Harry!" Cedric called, his voice cutting through the noise. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you."

Harry slowed to a stop, his sharp eyes assessing the group. "I was... out of the castle," he said, his tone deliberately vague. "Why? What's going on?"

"Out of the castle?" Alicia repeated, her eyes wide. "How? We're not even allowed to leave the grounds!"

Harry shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the tension in his chest. "There's a secret passage to Hogsmeade. From there, I just apparate wherever I need to go."

Roger blinked, his expression a mix of surprise and mild admiration. "Is that even allowed? Won't you get in trouble?"

"Not if you don't get caught," Harry replied lightly. "Besides, it's not like I'm doing it every day."

Reggy opened his mouth, likely to bombard Harry with questions about the logistics, but Cedric cut him off, his tone urgent. "Harry, your brother and his friends were looking for you earlier. They seemed really worried—like something serious was happening."

Harry's smirk disappeared instantly, replaced by a sharp, focused look. His stomach dropped as Cedric's words registered. Charles? They barely spoke unless necessary, let alone sought each other out. For Charles to come looking for him, something must have gone terribly wrong—something he couldn't handle on his own.

"Did they say what it was about?" Harry asked sharply, his tone edged with urgency.

Cedric shook his head. "No, but judging by their faces, it didn't look good. They were in a hurry."

Harry's jaw tightened as he nodded. "Thanks for letting me know." He was already turning to leave.

"Wait!" Cedric called after him. "Where are you going? Do you need help?"

"No," Harry said over his shoulder, his voice firm. "I'll find them and figure out what's going on. If it's something serious, I'll contact Amelia and Sirius. They'll bring in the Aurors. You all stay here and enjoy the celebrations."

Before Cedric could reply, Harry broke into a run, his thoughts racing. He needed to find Charles quickly and hoped against hope that they were still within the castle. If they'd left Hogwarts… no, that would spell trouble.

As he moved, Harry reached into his robes and pulled out the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered, and the map sprang to life. His eyes scanned the parchment with practiced efficiency, searching for the names of Charles, Ron, Hermione, or anyone else in their group.

Nothing. Their names weren't on the map.

Harry's stomach dropped. If they weren't in the castle, there was only one logical place they could have gone: the Department of Mysteries. The thought sent a chill through him. This was no longer just a hunch—it was a near certainty.

His mind worked quickly, piecing together the situation. If Charles had been lured to the Ministry, it had to be Voldemort's doing. The prophecy orb was the key, and Voldemort would stop at nothing to get it. But Harry also knew something Voldemort didn't: Charles wouldn't be able to retrieve the orb.

When that moment came, everyone would realize the truth: Charles wasn't the Boy Who Lived after all. It was going to be a harsh wake-up call for everyone involved—Charles, Dumbledore, Voldemort, all of them.

But before any of that could happen, Harry had to act. He didn't just have to prevent Voldemort from getting the prophecy—he had to keep Charles and his friends alive. That was going to be the real challenge.

Harry bolted through the corridors, heading for the nearest exit. His destination was clear: Black Castle. Sirius needed to know, and the Aurors needed to be ready. This wasn't just about a prophecy anymore—it was about saving lives.

---

Harry apparated directly into the courtyard of Black Castle, the ancient stone walls casting long shadows under the pale moonlight. He didn't waste time with formalities, bursting into the study where Sirius and Arcturus were leaning over maps and reports.

Sirius looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to alarm as he took in Harry's urgency. "Harry? What's going on?"

"It's Charles," Harry said, his voice tight with urgency. "He's gone. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Fred, and George too. I think Voldemort lured them to the Department of Mysteries."

Sirius's face went pale. "What? How?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. "But they're not at Hogwarts, and the only thing that makes sense is the Ministry. Voldemort wants the prophecy, and he's using Charles as bait."

Arcturus stood, his sharp gaze darkening. "If his dark army is already gathering and now this, it's clear Voldemort's making a decisive move. Once he gets that prophecy, he might use the chaos to seize control of the Ministry. This is bad."

"I know," Harry said through gritted teeth. "We have to stop him from getting the prophecy. If we fail, Voldemort might use it to push his plans further. Fighting him and his army inside the Ministry puts us at a disadvantage. My abilities are strongest in open combat—I can't do much in a confined space."

Sirius was already moving, grabbing his coat and wand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We won't let it escalate to that. If we stop Voldemort from getting the prophecy, we'll force him to retreat. I'll contact Amelia and the Order. They need to know Charles is missing, and we'll need every Auror and fighter we can get."

Harry nodded, his mind racing through the possibilities. "We need to move fast. If Voldemort's already there and has his hands on the prophecy…"

Suddenly, Harry stiffened. A familiar magical pulse rippled through his consciousness—the alarm wards at his house had been triggered. Sirius noticed the shift in his demeanor immediately.

"Harry," Sirius said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "What's wrong?"

Harry didn't respond right away, his focus turned inward as he attuned himself to the faint but unmistakable thrum of the wards. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady. "Someone's attacking my house. The wards just went off."

Sirius's brow furrowed. "Your house? Who would—?"

Before he could finish, a small pop echoed through the room as Mira appeared, her large eyes wide with panic and ears twitching nervously. "Master Harry!" she squeaked. "There are bad people outside the house! Wolves, bats, giants—so many of them! They're trying to break the wards and destroy everything!"

The room fell silent as the implications of her words sank in.