Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

Harry paced the length of the Black Castle's grand library, the weight of recent events pressing heavily on his mind. The news of Dumbledore's sudden ousting from the Wizengamot had caught him off guard.

Though he didn't particularly like the old man, Harry knew this move would destabilize the Ministry further, leaving it vulnerable to Voldemort's influence. He'd underestimated just how quickly the Dark Lord could regroup after the devastating blow at the graveyard.

"How did he regain influence so quickly?" Harry muttered, frustration clear in his voice.

He had assumed that with most of Voldemort's inner circle eliminated, the Dark Lord's recovery would take months, if not years. Yet reality was proving far more unsettling.

Sirius, who had followed him back from the Wizengamot meeting, leaned against a bookshelf. "This development is worrying," he admitted, his tone grim. "I thought all they could manage right now was currying Fudge's favor and stirring up minor trouble. But gaining more than half the Wizengamot's support? That's serious. Who knows what other policies they'll try to push through now?"

Harry stopped pacing and turned to his godfather. "We need to investigate. Sirius, I need that list of Fudge's new friends."

Without a word, Sirius pulled a folded parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "I've been keeping an eye on them. Here's everyone I've noted so far."

Unfolding the parchment, Harry scanned the list. Several familiar family names jumped out—old pure-blood houses with dark reputations—but he recognized only a handful.

"Thanks, Sirius. This is exactly what I needed," Harry said, his voice steady with determination.

"What's your plan?" Sirius asked, eyeing him warily.

"I need to find out what Voldemort's up to," Harry replied simply.

Sirius straightened immediately, his expression stern. "No! I forbid you from following anyone directly to Voldemort's hideout. That's too dangerous."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not that reckless. I'll find one of the weaker ones and extract the information from their mind. With the Invisibility Cloak, it'll be low-risk."

Sirius frowned but didn't argue further. "Fine, but promise me you'll share anything you learn. And don't rush into a fight. You might be stronger now, but Voldemort still has an army. Constant vigilance, Harry."

Harry chuckled at his godfather's serious tone. "Alright, alright. I promise I won't do anything stupid."

Satisfied, Sirius left for Grimmauld Place, though his parting look carried a hint of worry.

Once alone, Harry returned to the list Sirius had given him. His eyes settled on a name: Gregory Selwyn, a low-ranking Ministry official with known Death Eater ties.

"Perfect," Harry murmured to himself.

Selwyn's low status made him an ideal target. Unlike the higher-ranking Death Eaters, Selwyn was unlikely to have strong Occlumency defenses. Probing his mind for answers would be easy and relatively safe.

The alternative—following a new recruit directly to Voldemort—was far riskier. Even with the Invisibility Cloak, Harry couldn't be sure Voldemort hadn't set up defenses against such tactics after the graveyard incident.

No, extracting information from someone like Selwyn was smarter. Voldemort's inner circle might be tight, but lower-ranking followers often overheard things they shouldn't.

The Order, as usual, had been of little help. Kreacher's spying had yielded no useful information, and Harry doubted Dumbledore would share any secrets willingly. The old man always kept his cards close to his chest.

Snape would have been the best source of information, but his Occlumency skills were legendary. Trying to breach Snape's mind would almost certainly leave traces, alerting both him and Voldemort. Harry needed subtlety, not unnecessary risks.

---

The next evening, under the cover of darkness, Harry prepared for his mission. With a thought, his bound cloak activated, rendering him invisible. There was no need for disguises. A few carefully cast spells to hide his traces later, and he was ready.

"Time to get to work," he muttered to himself.

Apparating to a secluded spot near Selwyn's residence, Harry kept to the shadows, observing the house from a distance. The neighborhood was quiet, and the house itself was modest, protected by only minimal wards.

"Too easy," Harry thought, his lips curling in mild disdain.

With precise wand movements, he bypassed the wards effortlessly, ensuring he left no trace of his intrusion. Invisible and silent, Harry slipped into the house and settled in Selwyn's study, waiting patiently for his target to return.

The door creaked open an hour later, and Selwyn stepped in. Before he could even set down his coat, a silent Stunning Spell struck him. The man crumpled to the floor without a sound.

Harry moved swiftly, placing his wand against Selwyn's temple. Delving into the man's memories, he sifted through them with practiced efficiency.

"Useless," Harry growled under his breath, frustration bubbling up. Selwyn's knowledge was shallow—surface details about the faction's recent influx of gold, the coordinated campaign to discredit Dumbledore, and the bought votes in the Wizengamot. But the source of the gold? Selwyn had no idea. He was too low-ranking to know anything substantial.

However, the memories did reveal something of value: the names of Voldemort's new inner circle. One name stood out sharply: Duncan Macnair.

"We meet again," Harry murmured, recalling their brief but intense duel during the suspended Triwizard Tournament. Macnair would know more. He had to. Harry decided then and there that he would be the next target.

After carefully modifying Selwyn's memories to erase all traces of his presence, Harry left the house as silently as he'd entered, Apparating back to Black Castle to plan his next move.

In the castle's study, Sirius was waiting, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

"How did it go?" Sirius asked as Harry stepped inside.

"Not as fruitful as I'd hoped," Harry admitted, setting his wand on the table. "Selwyn didn't know much. I did confirm, though, that their faction recently came into a lot of gold."

"Any clue where it's coming from?" Sirius pressed.

"Not yet," Harry replied, shaking his head. "But I did learn something important—Duncan Macnair is part of Voldemort's new inner circle."

Sirius frowned, his jaw tightening. "Macnair... wasn't he the duelist you faced in the tournament a few years back?"

"That's the one," Harry confirmed. "He's my next target."

"I'll help you gather intelligence on him," Sirius offered, though his tone carried a warning. "But Macnair's a lot stronger than Selwyn. Be careful."

"I will," Harry assured him, his voice calm but resolute.

---

In the days that followed, Harry kept a close watch on Macnair's movements. However, approaching him proved to be far more difficult than he'd anticipated. Macnair was careful—almost paranoid. He Apparated randomly, never staying in one place for long, and his home was conspicuously empty, suggesting he operated from a secret hideout.

Harry spent hours observing, hoping for a moment of vulnerability, but Macnair's movements were erratic and guarded. Catching him at his home or discovering his hideout would have made things much easier.

For now, Harry decided to wait, biding his time. If patience failed, he'd have to take a bolder approach and confront Macnair in the open—subduing him without raising suspicion. It wasn't ideal, but Harry wasn't ready to take unnecessary risks just yet.

He had time. And he intended to use it wisely.

---

Several nights later, as Harry pored over books on tracking spells in the library, a soft pop broke the silence. Mira, the Black Castle's ever-dutiful house-elf, appeared, her wide eyes sparkling with urgency.

"Master Harry," she squeaked, wringing her hands. "One of your devices is making noise and shining!"

Harry raised an eyebrow, closing the book in front of him. "Which device, Mira?"

She stepped forward, holding out a small coin that glowed faintly and emitted a soft hum.

Harry's expression shifted as he recognized it immediately. The coin had been one of his creations during the Quirrelmort year at Hogwarts, a communication tool meant for the centaurs to alert him if unicorns were ever in danger. It had remained silent since his days of hunting acromantulas with the centaurs.

"Thank you, Mira," he said, taking the coin from her small hands.

With another soft pop, Mira vanished, leaving Harry alone with the glowing coin. He examined it closely, running his fingers over the smooth, etched surface.

The centaurs wouldn't contact him without good reason.

"It must be important," he muttered to himself.

Stretching his stiff muscles, Harry stood and pocketed the coin. "Looks like it's time to be Knight Arthur again," he said with a wry smile.

He chuckled quietly as memories of his various disguises flickered through his mind. "If I keep this up, I'll need an entire wardrobe just for my alter egos."

He mentally ticked off the list: Knight Arthur, the persona he'd adopted to deal with Quirrell and the acromantulas; the American wizard and ninja guises during the Quidditch World Cup; and most recently, the mysterious wizard at the graveyard.

"I should be careful," he mused, his humor fading slightly. "Too many powerful strangers appearing could start connecting dots I'd rather remain scattered."

Shrugging off the thought for now, Harry began to prepare. He fetched the Gryffindor family sword from its secure place. Using the real Sword of Gryffindor was out of the question—it could lead to questions and potentially reveal more about his identity than he wanted. For this task, the family sword, though less powerful, would suffice.

"Time to see what the centaurs need," he said, fastening his cloak and adjusting his appearance to suit his old alias.

Exiting Black Castle, Harry Apparated to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the moonlight bathed the treetops in a silvery glow.