Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

The sun was already high in the sky when Harry finally stirred, its golden rays streaming through the windows of Black Castle, casting lazy patterns across the stone walls. It was well past noon, but after the events of the previous night—raiding the Acromantula nest, battling hordes of spiders, dueling Dumbledore, and inadvertently acquiring the Elder Wand—Harry had earned every minute of extra rest.

Stretching languidly, he allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence. "Afternoon already?" he murmured, glancing at the ornate clock on his nightstand. "Guess I overdid it last night."

Throwing off the covers, he rose and began his day, though the day was already halfway over. There was much to do, and his mind was already buzzing with plans.

"Time to sort through the spoils," he mused.

Harry made his way to the storeroom where he had asked Mira to organize the materials harvested from the Acromantula raid. Upon opening the door, he stopped in his tracks, momentarily dumbstruck by the sheer quantity of resources. Venom sacs glistened ominously under the soft light, silky threads were coiled neatly into massive bundles, and chitinous exoskeletons were piled high in sturdy crates.

"Well," Harry muttered, "this is going to take some time."

Without delay, he got to work. Every item in the room held value if sold in the right markets and at the right time. Carefully, he began sorting the resources into separate categories: those to be sold immediately and those to be stored for future use.

The sheer volume was staggering, and as he worked, he couldn't help but marvel at the potential. "These will fetch a fortune," he thought, already envisioning his vault at Gringotts swelling with newfound wealth.

Aragog's parts, however, were something else entirely. Exceptionally rare and incredibly valuable, Harry decided to keep them in stasis. "These might prove invaluable someday," he reasoned. "If sold, they'd be nearly impossible to replace when needed."

Thankfully, Mira was there to assist, her efficiency helping him make quick progress. Together, they sorted and cataloged the materials with precision. Even so, the task took hours, and it wasn't until the evening that they finally finished.

Harry leaned back, wiping his hands on a cloth, surveying their work with satisfaction. "Not bad," he said aloud. "Not bad at all."

Mira, standing beside him, nodded approvingly. She couldn't hide her excitement, hopping happily as she imagined how much wealth these spoils would bring to her master and the Potter family once sold.

With the materials sorted, Harry turned his attention to his most prized spoil of the day: the Elder Wand. Holding it felt... different. A subtle hum of power coursed through it, resonating with his own magic in a way no wand ever had before. Intrigued, he decided to test its capabilities.

Moving to the dueling chamber, Harry faced a training dummy. Pointing the Elder Wand, he cast a simple Stunning Spell. "Stupefy!"

A brilliant beam of red light shot forth, striking the dummy with such force that it shattered into pieces.

"Impressive," he murmured, his eyes widening. "The spell flows too smoothly... and it's stronger than usual. Almost like an enhanced version of itself."

Excited by the potential, he tried a few more spells—Disarming Charms, Shield Charms, even a Patronus. Each one was executed with unparalleled precision and power, far exceeding anything he'd achieved with his own wand. A grin spread across his face as he continued testing. Harry was thrilled with the results; he was steadily progressing toward his goal of becoming an overpowered wizard.

"Although," he mused aloud, "I can't use this wand in front of Dumbledore without stirring unnecessary trouble for myself. Still, it's far too good to ignore. This will come in very handy for my vigilante activities against Voldemort's forces."

As he experimented further, an idea struck him. "Maybe I can bind it to myself, like I did with the Invisibility Cloak."

Harry carefully drew intricate runes on the ground, whispering ancient incantations he had memorized from his travels. He poured his intent into the ritual, willing the Elder Wand to bind itself to him, to become a seamless extension of his power. As the ritual concluded, he waited with bated breath.

Nothing happened.

"Disappointing," he sighed, staring at the wand. "Maybe the Elder Wand requires a different ritual to bind."

Undeterred, Harry resolved to research further. "There's got to be a way—I'll figure it out," he thought, slipping the wand into a hidden wand holder on his arm.

Now, with his personal Thunderbird wand secured on one arm and the Elder Wand on the other, Harry felt prepared for whatever lay ahead. "Two wands are all I'll ever need," he thought with satisfaction. "One for Harry Potter, and the other for the mysterious wizard."

The dual setup would serve him perfectly—one for his everyday life, and the other for his secretive battles against the dark forces threatening the world.

Happy with what he had gained, Harry was eager to resume his training with Arcturus. Over the next few weeks, he immersed himself in his studies of the Dark Arts, honing his skills and delving deeper into arcane knowledge. His mastery was growing steadily, and he relished the challenge.

His regular visits to Fleur provided a welcome break from his intense studies. They spent hours together, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company. For a while, the weight of looming threats seemed to lift, and Harry allowed himself the luxury of peace.

But reality soon intruded.

An owl tapped urgently at his window, delivering a letter bearing the Hogwarts seal. Setting down the massive tome on dark magic he had been studying, Harry crossed the room and opened the window to retrieve the letter. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the parchment to reveal a gleaming Head Boy badge pinned inside.

"Well, well," Harry thought with a smirk. "Looks like Dumbledore's petty revenge didn't pan out after all." His master had kept his promise—Harry would indeed hold the Head Boy position this year.

Speaking of Dumbledore, Harry had heard intriguing rumors through Sirius and Kreacher, who had been snooping around Grimmauld Place. According to them, the old headmaster had not been the same recently. Having lost the Elder Wand, for some reason he now appeared haggard, constantly busy, and perpetually rushed. Whatever he was working on, he was keeping it to himself.

Fortunately for Dumbledore, his diminished presence in the Ministry following the last Wizengamot meeting had given him more time for his secretive pursuits. And since he had never shown much interest in his duties as Hogwarts headmaster—leaving most of the work to his deputy—he was free to focus on whatever he wanted.

Harry had a hunch about what those activities might involve. "Without the Elder Wand giving him an edge, he's probably nervous," Harry mused. "He's likely accelerating his plans, trying to finish his search for the Horcruxes and dig deeper into Voldemort's history. He wants to ensure Charles has the tools to fulfill the prophecy."

To test his theory, Harry decided to watch for any signs of Dumbledore giving Charles extra lessons when school resumed. "If he does," Harry thought, "it'll confirm that Dumbledore is fast-tracking his plans."

As Harry thought about this, he was reading the letter that came with the badge. There he was the words that in a week, the school would start. That left him a little confused. It looked like Harry had lost track of time. He assumed he had more time to do things before Hogwarts started for his final year.

His attention returned to the letter. It stated that Hogwarts would start in one week—a revelation that left Harry slightly bewildered. He hadn't realized how much time had passed. Caught up in his studies and experiments with the Elder Wand, he had lost track of the days. Even his earlier plans to investigate Voldemort's movements had fallen by the wayside. He had no idea what Duncan Macnair, his target, had been up to.

"It's time to deal with that," Harry decided firmly. "No more waiting for the perfect opportunity."

Determined, he resolved to intercept Macnair directly and get the answers he needed. There was no time to waste.