Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

The moon hung low over the treetops as Harry—or Knight Arthur—stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just beyond Hogwarts' protective wards. The scent of damp earth and ancient trees filled his senses, blending with the rustling leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl.

With a simple thought, Harry floated off the ground, gliding silently just above the forest floor. He wove through the towering trees, following the path to the centaur colony—a route he knew by heart. Yet tonight, the forest felt different. The air was thick, the shadows darker, as though the woods themselves were holding their breath.

A sudden rustling to his left caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a massive acromantula skittering across the ground, its eight gleaming eyes reflecting a sinister light.

"That's odd," Harry thought, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. "They're far from their nest."

As he moved deeper into the forest, he noticed more acromantulas. They lurked in the trees, their webs glinting like silver traps in the moonlight. Seeing them this far from their territory was alarming.

"Something's wrong," he muttered, picking up speed. Ascending higher to avoid confrontation, he pressed onward. Whatever was happening, the centaurs would have answers.

Minutes later, the forest opened into a starlit clearing. The centaur colony lay ahead, a seamless blend of tents and natural structures that harmonized with the environment. A group of centaurs stood waiting, their eyes turning toward Harry as he approached.

At their center was Dorran, the tribe's leader. His chestnut hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his gaze held both respect and concern. Around him stood familiar faces—Firenze, Ronan, and the ever-grumpy Bane.

"Knight Arthur," Dorran greeted, inclining his head. "We are grateful you answered our call."

Harry touched down gracefully, nodding in return. "It's been a while, Dorran. Good to see you. Though I see Bane's as cheerful as ever."

Bane snorted but stayed silent, allowing Dorran to step forward.

"You came quickly," Dorran noted.

"Your message felt urgent," Harry replied, scanning the group. "The forest feels… off tonight."

"You've noticed," Dorran said gravely.

Harry nodded. "On my way here, I saw several acromantulas far from their nest. What's happening?"

Dorran gestured to a log by the fire. "Sit with us, and we will explain."

Harry settled by the fire, its warmth a sharp contrast to the cool night air.

"The acromantulas have grown increasingly agitated," Dorran began. "In recent years, the forest has been plagued by turmoil."

Harry tilted his head. "Turmoil? I've been away. The only big event I have heard about is the Triwizard Tournament. That wouldn't have shaken the forest this much."

Feigning ignorance, Harry maintained his disguise. The centaurs' divination abilities might allow them to see through his real identity, but unless they addressed him directly, he wasn't about to reveal himself.

Dorran sighed, his face weary. "The tournament was just the latest disturbance. It started years ago. When you hunted the acromantulas, they grew wary. Then You-Know-Who returned, hunting unicorns for his dark rituals."

Harry frowned. "That frightened them?"

"Terrified them," Dorran confirmed. "Then the basilisk awakened from the Chamber of Secrets, spreading fear throughout the forest."

Firenze added, "The next year, dementors stationed at Hogwarts cast their despair over the forest, unsettling every creature."

"And last year brought dragons," Dorran said, exasperated.

"Dragons?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Dorran said. "The acromantulas thought the dragons were new residents and feared becoming prey. They moved their nest closer to the forest's edge."

Ronan chimed in, "Then wizards entered the forest, capturing some acromantulas for the tournament tasks. They feel hunted."

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sounds like they've been through a lot."

Dorran nodded solemnly. "Now they trust no one. They've grown aggressive, expanding their territory and attacking anything in their path. They've even begun encroaching on our lands."

Firenze added, "We tried reasoning with them, but they no longer listen."

Harry leaned forward. "So you called me."

"Yes," Dorran confirmed. "The stars tell us the acromantulas won't be allies. With the chaos in the wizarding world, they could become a threat to Hogwarts and its students."

Harry's gaze hardened. "Is Dumbledore ignoring this?"

"We rarely see him now," Dorran admitted. "He's likely preoccupied with You-Know-Who's return. We can't depend on his help."

"Understood," Harry said. "I had hoped to give the acromantulas time, but it seems we're out of options."

Dorran placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "Our tribe will support you."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. "I'll deal with the main nest. If your tribe can handle the stragglers, that'll save time."

"We will do our part," Dorran promised.

"The nest is formidable," Firenze cautioned. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

A small smile tugged at Harry's lips beneath his helmet. "I've grown stronger since our last encounter. Trust me."

The centaurs exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of hope and concern.

"Very well," Dorran said at last. "May the stars guide you."

Rising to his feet, Harry drew the Gryffindor family sword. The blade glinted faintly in the firelight, its edge sharp and ready.

"I'll return when it's done," he said, his voice steady.

With a final nod to the centaurs, Harry ascended into the night, flying swiftly toward the nest. The dark forest stretched out below him, waiting to reveal its secrets.

---

The forest blurred beneath Harry as he flew, his senses heightened for any movement. Acromantulas emerged from the shadows, their massive forms lunging toward him with deadly precision. Harry flicked his wand in quick bursts, sending precise jets of flame to incinerate them on the spot.

"One less problem," he muttered after each strike, leaving behind smoldering remains as he continued toward the nest.

The density of spiders increased as he approached the clearing. The air grew heavier with the stench of decay, and the webbing between the trees became thicker, forming a ghastly tapestry of silk and death.

At last, Harry reached the nest. The clearing ahead revealed a sprawling, monstrous structure—a chaotic mass of webs, bones, and debris, towering ominously among the trees. Thousands of acromantulas swarmed over the nest and the surrounding area, their chittering creating a haunting chorus that filled the night.

"Dorran wasn't exaggerating," Harry whispered. His gaze swept over the nest, assessing the overwhelming number of spiders. "This is far worse than before. And to think it all started with Hagrid freeing Aragog into this forest."

Hovering above the scene, Harry considered his options. Large-scale destructive spells would eliminate the threat quickly, but they'd also ravage the forest—an unacceptable cost.

"I'll have to do this the hard way," he decided grimly.

Sheathing his sword for the moment, Harry reached into his enchanted pouch and pulled out two practice dummies, the kind he often used for spellwork. Placing them on a nearby branch, he unsheathed a small blade and made a shallow cut on his palm.

"As long as this works, I'll have the support I need," he thought, blood dripping onto his palm.

Using his blood, Harry drew intricate runic circles on the dummies' foreheads. As the symbols glowed faintly, pulsing with arcane energy, he took a deep breath and began to chant in a low voice. The ancient words rolled off his tongue, each syllable resonating with power.

The air around him crackled with raw magic as the dummies began to shift and morph. Wood and fabric transformed into flesh and armor, and moments later, two identical figures stood before him—perfect replicas of himself.

This spell was one of Harry's latest creations—a dark clone spell that combined transfiguration and blood magic to produce temporary clones of himself. The clones, while only retaining about 20% of his strength, were still more than capable of handling tonight's battle.

Yet, the spell had its drawbacks. The clones could not cast spells, relying solely on physical combat. For someone like Harry, with his knightly prowess, this limitation wasn't a concern. More problematic, however, was that the clones bore his unmasked face and required his proximity to function. They couldn't be controlled remotely.

There was a way to overcome these issues, but Harry dismissed it outright.

"I'm not splitting my soul for a remote-controlled army," he muttered, shaking his head. "That path leads to madness, and I'm not Voldemort."

To resolve the issue of their exposed faces, Harry pulled out two plain masks from his pouch and handed them to the clones. They slipped them on without a word, ready to follow his lead into battle.

Satisfied, Harry unsheathed two spare swords and handed them over. "A knight without a collection of swords is no knight at all," he quipped to himself, smirking.

Once armed, the clones moved into position. Harry stayed in the air, observing their progress as he coordinated their actions.

The fight began in earnest as the trio descended upon the nest. The clones moved with precision, cutting through the tide of spiders with devastating efficiency. One clone leapt into the fray, slashing through silk and fangs, while the other delivered crushing blows that scattered groups of acromantulas.

From above, Harry cast controlled jets of flame, targeting clusters of spiders while avoiding damage to the surrounding trees. Each spell sent plumes of smoke and the acrid stench of burning chitin into the air.

The clones, despite their limited strength, performed admirably under Harry's guidance. Their movements were sharp, their strikes deliberate, and their presence allowed Harry to focus on eliminating larger groups of spiders from a distance.

As the battle raged, the nest itself began to collapse under the assault. With each wave of spiders falling, the structure grew more exposed. The trio of Harrys worked in perfect harmony, cutting through the infestation with surgical efficiency.

The hunt had begun anew, and this time, Harry resolved, the forest would finally be free from the acromantulas' reign of terror.