TalesByJaz
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Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian: Ch. 339
🕑 Added 2025-01-14 18:26:14 +0000 UTCChapter 339: "A Note and a Mission"
Charles stepped out of the History of Magic exam hall, his mind still buzzing with details of goblin rebellions and giant wars. The OWLs were finally over, and a wave of relief washed over him, though it was tempered by the lingering exhaustion from weeks of studying. He stretched his arms, glancing at his friends, who were already chatting animatedly about their plans for the evening.
“That’s it,” Ron said with a wide grin. “No more exams. We’re free!”
“For now,” Hermione countered, though even she couldn’t suppress a small smile. “But there’s still next year to think about.”
“Hermione, please,” Neville said, shaking his head. “Let us enjoy this moment. We’ve earned it.”
Charles chuckled, falling into step with his friends as they made their way down the corridor. The castle felt different now, lighter somehow, as if the weight of the exams had been lifted from its ancient stones. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm golden beams across the floor. For a moment, everything felt normal—peaceful, even.
That peace shattered as they rounded a corner.
A Slytherin student—a fourth-year Charles vaguely recognized but couldn’t name—came barreling around the bend, slamming into Charles with enough force to send them both sprawling. They hit the ground hard, books and parchment scattering everywhere.
“Watch it!” Ron snapped, quickly helping Charles to his feet.
The Slytherin, however, didn’t apologize. He scrambled to his feet, his face pale and his eyes darting nervously around the corridor. Without a word, he turned and bolted, disappearing around the next corner.
“What was that all about?” Ginny asked, frowning as she jogged up to them. She had been looking for Charles and arrived just in time to witness the commotion.
“Weird,” Neville muttered, kneeling to help gather Charles’s scattered belongings.
Charles dusted himself off, his heart still racing from the sudden collision. “That was… odd,” he said, frowning. “He didn’t even say anything.”
“Probably just another Slytherin being a git,” Ron said with a shrug. “Come on, let’s just forget about it.”
Ginny glanced down the corridor where the Slytherin had disappeared, her frown deepening. “I don’t know. He looked scared.”
“Scared of what?” Neville asked, handing Charles his last book.
“Exactly,” Ginny replied softly, her gaze lingering on the empty hallway. “Scared of what?”
They were about to move on when Charles felt something unusual in the pocket of his robes. It wasn’t there before—he was sure of it. His hand closed around a small, folded piece of parchment, and his stomach dropped.
“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand to stop his friends. “There’s something here.”
He pulled out the note, his fingers trembling slightly as he unfolded it. The handwriting was neat but hurried, the ink smudged in places as if the writer had been in a rush. Charles’s eyes scanned the words, and his face turned pale.
“What is it?” Hermione asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Charles swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “It’s… it’s about Remus,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He read the note aloud:
“If you want to save your godfather, the werewolf Lupin, come to the Prophecy Hall of the Department of Mysteries. Come alone, and come quickly. Time is running short, and I personally have little patience for filthy half-breeds. Come alone, or he dies.”
A heavy silence fell over the group, the weight of the words hanging like a storm cloud. Ron was the first to break it.
“This has to be a prank,” he said, his voice rising with anger. “Some Slytherin git trying to scare you. I’m going to find that bloke and—”
“Ron, wait,” Hermione interrupted, her brow furrowed in thought. She turned to Charles. “When was the last time you saw Remus?”
Charles hesitated, his mind racing. “I… I haven’t seen him in weeks. The last I heard, he was going undercover to spy on a werewolf gathering. My parents were worried—they said it was dangerous.”
Hermione’s expression darkened. “Then this might not be a prank. If Remus is in trouble…”
“We need to tell Dumbledore,” Neville said firmly. “He’ll know what to do.”
The group nodded in agreement and immediately set off for the headmaster’s office. Charles’s heart pounded as they climbed the stairs, his mind racing with worry for Remus. When they reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance, Charles quickly gave the password (“Sherbet Lemon”), and they hurried inside. But the circular room was empty, save for the silent portraits lining the walls.
“Where is he?” Ron asked, looking around in frustration.
One of the portraits—a stern-looking wizard with a long, flowing beard—cleared his throat. “Headmaster Dumbledore received urgent news and left the castle,” he said. “He did not say when he would return.”
Charles’s stomach churned. “What about my mother, Professor Potter?” he asked anxiously. “Is she in the school? Can you tell me where she is?”
The portrait shook his head. “I believe Professor Potter left the school with the headmaster. Something about an Order of the Phoenix meeting.”
“What about Professor McGonagall?” Hermione suggested, her voice tight with worry.
“She accompanied the Ministry officials overseeing the exams,” the portrait replied. “She has not yet returned.”
Charles clenched his fists, frustration and fear bubbling up inside him. “What do we do now?” he asked, turning to his friends.
“We need to find Harry,” Neville said after a moment of tense silence.
Though Charles hesitated—his relationship with his brother was complicated at best—he nodded. Harry would know what to do.
The group raced through the castle, searching every likely spot for any sign of Harry. The corridors were unusually quiet, most students still outside enjoying the sunny afternoon. Their footsteps echoed as they moved quickly from one location to another.
They finally found Harry’s friends by the Black Lake, lounging in the late afternoon sun. The group looked relaxed, enjoying the rare reprieve from exams. But there was no sign of Harry. Cedric looked up as Charles and his friends approached, his expression curious.
“Have you seen Harry?” Charles asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.
Cedric shook his head. “He left a few hours ago. Didn’t say where he was going. Why? Is something wrong?”
Charles hesitated, glancing at Hermione for guidance. She stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We need his help with something urgent. If you see him, can you let him know?”
Cedric nodded, though his eyes narrowed slightly with concern. “Of course. I’ll tell him as soon as I see him.”
As they turned to leave, Fred and George, who had been lounging nearby and clearly eavesdropping, caught up with them.
“Spill it, Charlie-boy—”
“—something’s obviously wrong—”
“—and we want in,” George finished, his tone unusually serious.
Charles hesitated again, torn between keeping the secret and accepting the twins’ help. But before he could decide, Hermione stepped in, quickly summarizing the situation. The twins’ easygoing expressions hardened into something far more focused as they listened.
“What’s the plan, then?” George asked after a moment of silence.
Charles squared his shoulders, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “I’m going to save him.”
“You’re not going alone,” George said firmly.
“But—” Charles began.
“No arguments,” Fred interrupted, his usual grin replaced with a rare look of determination. “This is Remus we’re talking about. We’re not letting you do this by yourself.”
Charles glanced around at the group—Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Fred, and George—all of them wearing the same resolute expressions. A surge of gratitude swelled within him. He knew he couldn’t stop them, and deep down, he didn’t want to. They were his family, in every way that mattered.
“Alright,” he said finally, nodding. “But we need a plan. How do we get to the Ministry?”
The group fell silent, considering their options. Apparition was out of the question—Fred and George weren’t confident about side-along Apparition over such a long distance. The Floo Network was too risky, and they didn’t have access to a Portkey.
“I believe I can help with that.”
They all jumped, spinning around to find Luna Lovegood standing behind them. She had appeared so quietly that none of them had noticed her approach. Her dreamy expression held a rare edge of determination as she gestured toward the Forbidden Forest.
“Thestrals,” she said simply. “They can take us to the Ministry of Magic.”
Charles blinked. “Thestrals?”
Luna nodded serenely. “They’re fast, and they can fly us straight to the Ministry. No one will even see us coming.”
It was a risky plan, but it was the best they had. The group exchanged glances before nodding, their resolve firm. With Luna leading the way, they made their way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The towering trees cast long shadows as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the air was thick with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant bird calls.
In a clearing, the thestrals waited—silent, dark, and otherworldly. Their skeletal forms and leathery wings would have been unsettling to anyone who couldn’t see them. The creatures regarded the group with calm, unblinking eyes, their presence both eerie and comforting.
Charles approached one of the thestrals, his heart pounding as he placed a hesitant hand on its side. The creature didn’t flinch, merely flicked its tail and adjusted its wings. Gathering his courage, he climbed onto its back, gripping tightly as the thestral shifted beneath him.
One by one, the others mounted their own thestrals, their faces a mix of fear and determination. Ginny’s hands shook slightly as she took the reins, while Fred and George exchanged nervous grins, trying to lighten the mood.
Luna was the last to mount, her gaze dreamy but focused. “They’ll take us where we need to go,” she said softly. “Hold on tight.”
With a rustle of wings, the thestrals took off, their powerful legs propelling them into the air. The ground fell away beneath them as the creatures soared above the treetops, their dark forms blending seamlessly with the encroaching night. The wind rushed past them, cold and sharp, as they flew toward London.
Charles gripped the reins tightly, his mind racing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were flying into something far bigger than they realized—something dangerous and unpredictable. But there was no turning back now. Remus’s life was at stake, and Charles was determined to save him, no matter the cost.
Eight invisible horses carried the unlikely rescue party toward the Ministry of Magic, their dark wings beating steadily against the twilight sky. Far below, the Hogwarts grounds grew smaller and smaller, the castle fading into the distance.
None of them noticed the figure of Harry Potter returning to the castle just as they disappeared over the horizon.
Comments
Ryan
This will be interesting, glad none of Harry's other friends are going though
