Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

Harry's mask was cracked, his armor torn in several places, and blood trickled from numerous wounds. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, each step a fresh reminder of the battle's brutal toll. Yet, as he faced the three monstrous leaders—Golgomath, Greyback, and Vladimir—a deeper force awakened inside him. It was the Knight within, rising in defiance to meet the ultimate challenge.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, Harry let crackling lightning dance around his form. The air around him vibrated with raw magical energy, an almost tangible aura of power fueled by desperation and unwavering resolve. For the first time that night, he cast aside all restraint and unleashed the full extent of his abilities.

A tense hush fell, snapping like a taut wire as Harry's damaged mask finally shattered. Fragments scattered onto the bloodstained earth, baring his face—bloodied yet unbroken—to the moonlit battlefield. For a heartbeat, the three leaders froze, their eyes, already corrupted by the forbidden potion, widening further in stunned recognition.

"Potter?" Vladimir spat, his voice torn between disbelief and rage. "The Knight has been you all along?"

Greyback's feral visage twisted into a new level of snarling contempt. "The elder Potter? You've been interfering with our plans all year, and now you stand here as the Knight who hunted us! What else are you hiding?"

Despite the pain coursing through him, Harry allowed a faint, confident smirk to curve his lips. His voice was steady—dangerous, even. "I'll let you in on one more secret," he said. His tone dropped to a hushed warning. "Look into my eyes."

As Greyback and the others fixed their gaze upon him, Harry's green eyes shifted, glowing with a piercing, electric blue radiance.

Greyback stumbled back half a step, his enhanced mind piecing together the implications. "Blue Eyes?" he snarled, realization dawning. "Don't tell me you're also the shadow assassin who's been decimating our elite forces these past months?"

Harry's smirk only widened in response, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

Greyback snarled, his claws flexing with renewed bloodlust. "Killing you will be so much sweeter now. My Lord will love to see your broken corpse, Potter. Even if I die here, I'll take comfort in dragging you down with me!"

With a roar, Greyback threw himself forward, lunging at lightning speed. Harry sprang to meet him, feinting left in a calculated misdirection. The werewolf slashed at the empty air, exposing his torso for a brief, crucial instant. Harry seized that opportunity, twisting his hips and driving Gryffindor's sword upward beneath Greyback's ribcage. The enchanted blade sank to the hilt, and Greyback's eyes bulged with raw fury and agony. Yet he still lunged forward, desperate to shred Harry with his claws. Before the werewolf could retaliate, Harry directed a surge of raw magic through the Elder Wand.

"Confringo!" A deafening explosion ripped through the night, hurling Greyback's smoking body backward. It crashed into a newly formed crater several yards away.

The force of the blast tore at Harry's own wounds, making him stumble. Golgomath capitalized on that weakness, howling as he heaved a stone chunk the size of a cart. The makeshift boulder smashed into Harry's side, flinging him like a rag doll. He slammed into a battered tree with a sickening thud, white-hot sparks dancing across his vision.

Before he could fully recover, Vladimir rushed at him, clawed fingers slashing downward in a lethal arc. Acting on instinct, Harry rolled aside, narrowly escaping the fatal blow. Pivoting on one knee, he counterattacked with a sharp upward swing. Gryffindor's sword carved a deep diagonal gash across Vladimir's chest, spilling dark blood onto the scorched earth.

Vladimir shrieked and staggered, his eyes wild with pain. Seizing the moment, Harry raised the Elder Wand and aimed it dead-center.

"Reducto!" he roared. A bolt of blue-white force struck Vladimir's face, twisting the vampire's head sharply. His body went limp, collapsing in a lifeless heap, crimson eyes rolling back into emptiness.

That left only Golgomath, still gripping his jagged chunk of stone. The roar of blood in Harry's ears mixed with the crackle of flames devouring the battlefield. Both combatants were battered, trembling, and pushed to their limits. Golgomath slammed the stone onto the ground again in a show of rage, fissures rippling outward across the scorched terrain.

Their eyes locked—giant and wizard in a final, brutal standoff. With a furious bellow, Golgomath raised the stone overhead, intent on crushing Harry once and for all. Harry inhaled, finding that reserve of power deep inside him, allowing the Knight's strength to surge like a gathering storm. As Golgomath brought the stone down in a pulverizing strike, Harry dashed forward, sliding beneath the catastrophic blow. The ground behind him exploded with stone and dirt, but he rose in a single motion, Gryffindor's sword carving a deep slash across Golgomath's colossal thigh.

Bellowing in agony, the giant toppled to one knee. Harry vaulted onto the wounded leg, using it as a grim springboard to drive the Sword of Gryffindor into Golgomath's massive chest. The blade tore through muscle and bone, piercing the giant's heart. A shudder wracked Golgomath's entire frame, and he lurched backward. With a thunderous crash, his colossal body hit the ground, sending a quake through the area.

Harry yanked the sword free at the last possible second, then stumbled back as Golgomath's lifeless form collapsed in a quaking heap of flesh and stone.

---

Silence descended, broken only by the crackle of distant fires. The three dark leaders—Greyback, Vladimir, and Golgomath—lay motionless, their desperate gamble undone as the potion's effects finally wore off. What remained of their twisted bodies served as a grim warning that their final stand had failed.

Harry, drenched in sweat and blood, sank to his knees. His limbs trembled, and cuts and claw marks peppered his battered flesh. Each breath felt like a knife raking across his ribs, but at last, the infernal onslaught was over.

Watching from behind the wards, Emma and Fleur saw Golgomath fall. Their hearts thundered as they dashed past the protective barrier toward Harry. Yet before they could bridge the final yards, Harry's voice emerged—harsh and labored.

"S-stop," he gasped, half-coughing on his own blood. "Don't… come any closer. I—"

They froze, shock and concern etched into their features. Harry pressed a quivering hand to his chest, feeling the last dregs of adrenaline drain from his body. A new, spiraling warmth replaced that surge of battle-lust. Beneath his pain, something within him began to stir and expand.

The Knight within him roared in silent triumph, demanding its due.

The time had come for his ascension.