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Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian: Ch. 342
🕑 Added 2025-01-18 18:35:24 +0000 UTCChapter 342: "The Knight's Welcome Part - 1"
Harry, Emma, and Fleur appeared inside the house. Through the windows, the sheer scale of the threat became horrifyingly clear. The grounds surrounding Harry's home were teeming with dark creatures. Packs of werewolves prowled in the shadows, their glowing eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight. Vampires perched in the trees like sinister birds of prey, their pale faces twisted into cruel smirks. Towering giants lumbered across the grass, their massive forms casting long, menacing shadows.
"Mon Dieu," Fleur whispered, clutching her wand tightly. "Zere are so many…"
Emma's voice trembled slightly with worry. "Harry, maybe we need to rethink the plan. You could fight from inside the wards with us. It would be safer."
Harry glanced at her, a grin spreading across his face—one that made both women exchange uneasy looks. "Where's the fun in that?" he replied.
Even though the odds were staggering—Harry counted at least eighty werewolves, forty vampires, and twenty giants surrounding the house—he felt no fear. Instead, a familiar excitement coursed through him. The Knight inside him thrived on impossible battles, and this one promised to be unlike any he'd faced before.
"Harry," Fleur said cautiously, noticing his expression, "zis isn't a game. Zose creatures—"
"Don't worry," Harry reassured her, though his eyes still glinted with anticipation. "I've set up a few surprises for our guests. The grounds are full of traps—they just don't know it yet."
Before either woman could argue, Harry disappeared into his room. Moments later, he returned fully clad in his Knight battle gear. The sight was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Gryffindor's sword hung at his side, its ruby pommel gleaming like a drop of blood. In his hand, he held the Elder Wand, radiating power so strongly it felt almost alive. With the combination of the ancient blade and the unbeatable wand, Harry was no longer just a wizard—he was a one man army.
"Here," Harry said, holding out two spare masks to Emma and Fleur. "With this many enemies, it's possible some will slip past us. It's better if they don't know who you are—less trouble later."
Once masked and under Disillusionment Charms, Harry guided them outside. From ground level, the opposing army looked even more daunting. Werewolves stalked with predatory grace, their power clear in every movement. Vampires zipped between shadows at unnatural speeds, while giants hammered the wards with their colossal fists, each blow shaking the ground.
What Harry found odd was their formation. Rather than focusing on one major assault, they'd spread out to surround the entire estate. It seemed wasteful—unless they wanted to stop anyone from escaping.
"The wizarding world should be glad my house is this remote," Harry muttered, his voice low as he surveyed the area. "So many dark creatures in a single spot would blow the Statute of Secrecy in seconds."
Using their disillusionment as cover, Harry guided Emma and Fleur closer to where several figures appeared to be in command. They were hiding for a reason. Harry was curious—this attack made little strategic sense. His house held no particular value beyond its connection to him, and as far as he knew, his identity as the Knight remained secret.
So why were they here?
Still cloaked by Disillusionment Charms, Harry, Emma, and Fleur edged closer to where each faction's leaders had gathered. Their tension was obvious, and their voices carried through the still night. They formed a loose circle, their stances stiff and their faces grim. It was clear they were anything but united.
"Why are we still here, vampire?" Fenrir Greyback snarled, his scarred features shaped by impatience. His yellowed fangs shone in the moonlight as he spoke, his tone layered with scorn. "My lord's orders were clear—we should wait for his signal. Yet you've hauled us here to this worthless place."
"Yes, vampire," Golgomath, the giant chieftain, rumbled in agreement. His voice was low and gravelly, like stones grinding together. Towering over the others, his trunk-like arms folded across his chest. "Why bother tearing down these wards? This place has no real value."
Vladimir's pale features tensed with irritation, his crimson eyes narrowing as he glared at them. "As I said before," he replied in a curt tone, "I only wanted to use our downtime effectively. The Knight who destroyed your werewolves, Greyback, lives in that house."
Fenrir growled, his claws curling at his sides. "So this is about your revenge?" he snapped. "You dragged everyone here for a personal vendetta? Are you insane? What do you think the Dark Lord will do when he learns you've endangered his plans?"
Golgomath shifted uneasily, his huge mass making the ground quiver. "If vengeance was your goal, you should have planned better. These wards are stronger than anything I've encountered. Even my hits accomplish nothing here. This is useless."
Vladimir's jaw clenched, his frustration clear. "I miscalculated," he ground out. "These wards weren't nearly this powerful during my last visit."
Harry stifled a laugh. Did they truly think he'd leave his defenses the same after they found him? He'd spent every spare minute strengthening the wards, piling on every protective charm and spell he knew. Now, they rivaled—maybe even outdid—Grimmauld Place's protections.
"I don't want excuses, vampire!" Fenrir snapped, raising his voice. "You wanted us here, so find a way through. If you can't, we walk. I'm not risking my lord's rage over your grudge with the Knight."
Golgomath rumbled in agreement, his patience thinning. "Your failure, your mess."
Vladimir's crimson eyes flicked toward the house, his face torn by mixed emotions. His craving for vengeance against the Knight who had wiped out his coven was clear, but so was his dread of Voldemort's wrath. After a long, tense moment, he sighed sharply, his shoulders sagging in reluctant defeat.
"Maybe you're right," Vladimir admitted, his teeth clenched. "If the Knight was here, he'd have appeared by now. Let's not risk our masters' anger."
Harry decided it was time to show himself. He hadn't come to watch this army retreat and rejoin Voldemort at the Ministry. No, his goal was clear: wipe them out right here.
