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Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian: Ch. 331
🕑 Added 2025-01-06 18:05:18 +0000 UTCChapter 331: "Aftermath and the Summons"
The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, the clinking of cutlery and the rustle of robes filling the air. Students huddled over their breakfasts, some barely awake while others animatedly discussed the latest gossip. The calm hum of conversation shifted as the morning owls swooped in, delivering copies of the Daily Prophet and other mail. Almost instantly, the hall grew quieter as students dropped everything to read the news.
At the Ravenclaw table, Harry sat with a plate of toast and eggs in front of him, his attention fixed on the Daily Prophet spread open beside him. He'd expected the front page to be dominated by the attack on Azkaban—and he wasn't wrong. What surprised him was how the story had been framed.
The headline blared: "Azkaban Under Siege: Aurors Thwart Dark Wizard Breakout Attempt!"
The article described how a "rogue group of dark wizards" had allegedly attempted to break into the prison to free their allies, only to be heroically repelled by the Aurors, led by Alastor Moody and Sirius Black. There was no mention of Voldemort, no mention of the dementors abandoning their posts, and certainly no reference to a mysterious masked wizard who had turned the tide of the battle and prevented a large-scale breakout.
Harry raised an eyebrow as he read through the piece. Every word reeked of the Ministry's influence. Either Fudge was still manipulating the Prophet to protect his crumbling narrative, or the Dark Alliance had a hand in ensuring the attack's true severity was downplayed. The complete omission of the dementors' defection was particularly glaring. The Ministry clearly didn't want the public to know that their longstanding prison guards had turned rogue and joined Voldemort.
Folding the paper, Harry set it aside, his expression thoughtful. The lack of recognition didn't bother him in the slightest. Fame or glory had never been his motivation. He had acted to protect Sirius, to thwart Voldemort, and to ensure the Dark Alliance didn't grow stronger with a flood of escaped prisoners. He had accomplished his goal—that was all that mattered.
Still, it was interesting to see how quickly the narrative had been shaped to suit the Ministry's agenda.
Around him, the Great Hall buzzed with speculation about the attack on Azkaban. Some students were skeptical of the Daily Prophet's account, while others accepted it without question. Harry listened absently, his mind already elsewhere.
He was waiting—for something, or rather, someone. It was only a matter of time before Dumbledore summoned him for a conversation.
The clues had been too glaring for someone of Dumbledore's intellect to miss. A powerful wizard close to Sirius, wielding advanced magic, and summoning a thunderbird Patronus? The list of potential candidates was incredibly short.
As if on cue, Professor Flitwick approached the Ravenclaw table, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. "Harry," he said quietly, "the Headmaster would like to see you in his office."
Harry nodded, calmly wiping his mouth with a napkin before standing. "Of course, Professor."
As they walked together through the castle's corridors, Flitwick's nervous energy was palpable. The diminutive Charms master kept glancing at Harry, his brow furrowed with worry. Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant.
"Harry, you must be careful. Dumbledore is… perceptive. I've heard about what happened last night, and from the descriptions, anyone with a sharp mind could guess it was you who prevented the breakout at Azkaban. And—there's a high chance he'll deduce that you're one of the vigilantes."
Harry gave him a faint smile. "I know, Professor. But don't worry. Dumbledore won't do anything to me."
Flitwick frowned deeply. "How can you be so sure? If he realizes you're the vigilante disrupting the Dark Alliance and killing wizards—"
"He already knows," Harry interrupted, his voice calm and measured. "Or at the very least, I've been on his suspect list for a long time. But he won't act on it. Our methods might differ, but our goals are the same. And without concrete evidence, there's little he can do. I'm the Lord Potter, after all."
Flitwick still looked uneasy. "Even so, Harry, you must tread carefully. Dumbledore is not a man to be underestimated. He could leak your identity and cause you serious trouble with the Dark faction."
Harry's smile widened, though his tone remained serious. "There's another reason he won't interfere. He needs me."
Flitwick blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Dumbledore's time is running out," Harry said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "He knows it. With Voldemort and Grindelwald working together, he needs someone to hold the line, someone to distract them and buy time for Charles to grow stronger. That someone is me. As long as I'm out there causing problems for Voldemort, Charles can stay under the radar and train."
Flitwick's eyes widened in realization. He had long suspected Dumbledore's health and strength were failing, but Harry's words confirmed just how dire the situation was. The war would be far more difficult without Dumbledore leading the charge.
His expression grew grim as the weight of the revelation settled over him. He wanted to ask Harry more questions, but before he could speak, they arrived at the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
Harry turned to Flitwick with a small smile. "Professor, let's talk later. Let's get this long-overdue meeting ticked off first."
Flitwick nodded, though the worry on his face didn't fade. He stepped forward and muttered the password—"Sherbet Lemon." The stone gargoyle shifted aside, revealing the spiral staircase leading to Dumbledore's office.
"Good luck, Harry," Flitwick said softly, his tone tinged with concern.
Harry gave him a reassuring nod. "Don't worry, Master. I've got this."
As the staircase carried him upward, Harry leaned back slightly and smiled to himself. There wasn't the slightest trace of nervousness in him. This wasn't a meeting between an ordinary seventh-year Hogwarts student and the revered Headmaster. This was a knight—a wizard who had fought and won against Voldemort—meeting a dying old man whose time was running out.
If anything, Harry thought, Dumbledore was the one who should be worried.
