Harry Potter and the Silent Guardian

The chamber in Riddle Manor was steeped in a heavy, oppressive silence, lit only by the dim, flickering glow of torches along the stone walls. Voldemort stood before his throne-like chair, his crimson eyes fixed on Vladimir Dracul XII, leader of the Carpathian Covenant. They were not master and servant but equals—two formidable powers temporarily aligned. The tension in the air was palpable, both understanding that their alliance was built on mutual benefit, not trust.

Vladimir's ancient features were carved with anger and a hint of unease, though he masked it well. He spoke in a low, controlled voice, his fury barely restrained. "Three of my elite Blood Guard have been reduced to ash in a London alley. Such a loss is not easily forgiven."

Voldemort's long, pale fingers tapped rhythmically against the arm of his chair, his gaze unwavering. "No trace of their killer? Is it Blue Eyes?" he asked calmly, though the quiet ferocity in his tone was unmistakable.

Vladimir's expression twisted into something between fury and predatory amusement. "No trace. No wizardly magic, no lingering signature—nothing. Whoever this enemy is, they are meticulous."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed slightly, his displeasure evident. "Macnair is missing too. Most likely dead. Our plan has failed, and now our unknown enemy has valuable information about us." His voice grew colder. "I am disappointed, Vladimir. You assured me your Blood Guard would handle the stalker."

Vladimir's jaw tightened, his pride wounded. "I do not understand it myself. Those three could have eliminated any ordinary wizard with ease. It seems this opponent is anything but ordinary. It must be Blue Eyes."

"It is of little use to speculate," Voldemort said, his tone clipped. "The man hides well—it is exceedingly difficult to locate him."

"Perhaps not so difficult now," Vladimir interjected, a gleam of anticipation flashing in his crimson eyes.

Voldemort's brow arched slightly. "Oh?"

Vladimir's lips curled into a faint smile, revealing sharp fangs. "When a vampire is killed, their killer absorbs a trace of our essence. It is imperceptible to wizards, but to us…" His eyes glowed with predatory delight. "It creates a connection we can follow. It will take time—perhaps days—but we will find him."

Voldemort inclined his head, acknowledging the vampire's unique capabilities. "Useful," he said softly. "I trust you will dedicate your considerable resources to this task."

Vladimir nodded, his posture commanding but respectful. He was no lackey, and his Covenant bowed to no outside force. Yet he understood the cold, calculated threat Voldemort represented. Cooperation served both their purposes—for now. "We will locate this threat," he promised. "The Blood Guard are not easily replaced, and we have as much interest in answers as you do."

"If it is Blue Eyes," Voldemort said, his voice icy and deliberate, "we must not take him lightly. When you find him, I will send some of my people to accompany yours. This meddler must be eliminated before he becomes a greater problem."

"It will be done," Vladimir replied evenly, though a flicker of unease crossed his mind. Voldemort was an ally for now, but the Dark Lord's ambition and ruthlessness could easily turn on the vampires if they became a hindrance. Still, for the moment, they shared a mutual enemy, and common foes often forged the strongest alliances.

Voldemort's thin lips curved into a cruel smile. "See that it is. We have much to accomplish, and no time for meddling unknowns."

---

Miles away, in the high mountain fastness of Black Castle, Harry settled into a plush armchair in Sirius's study. The hour was late; only a single lamp burned, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. Outside, cold winds whispered over the snowy peaks, but inside, the tension was palpable.

Sirius poured firewhisky into two glasses, his hand steady but his eyes troubled. Harry had just finished recounting the vampire ambush and its aftermath—three vampires dead, Macnair too, though not before Harry had extracted the critical intel from his mind.

Sirius didn't question Harry's actions in killing the vampires. He understood that in a situation like that, Harry had no choice but to go all out, and such a response inevitably led to fatalities. Sirius accepted this much without needing further explanation.

However, Harry chose to omit certain details—particularly about capturing and later killing Macnair. Sirius would not have approved, and Harry decided it was better kept hidden. Perhaps forever.

"You were attacked by vampires?" Sirius asked, his tone grim. "Did you kill them?"

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Yes. They left me no choice."

Sirius's expression darkened. "You killed three vampires and Macnair?" His voice was low, controlled, but his concern was evident. "How did you manage all of that? A wizard like Macnair and vampires?"

Harry shrugged slightly, his tone even. "I'm a knight, Sirius. Vampires might be faster than me, but I'm stronger. For an ordinary wizard, they'd be a nightmare to deal with. For me, they're manageable."

Sirius leaned forward, his grip tightening on his glass. "Harry, being able to handle three vampires and Macnair at the same time—just how strong are you now?"

Harry gave a faint smile but waved the question off. "Strong enough. Let's not focus on that right now. The important part is what I learned from Macnair's mind before his end."

Sirius's frown deepened. "You're scaring me, Harry. What did you find?"

Harry set his drink down, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Voldemort is sane, Sirius. And that changes everything."

Sirius blinked, confusion briefly crossing his face. "Sane? How can that be? Didn't splitting his soul for the Horcruxes destroy his mind?"

"It did," Harry replied quietly, "but when we destroyed the Horcruxes, I think the fragments of his soul rejoined him. And somehow, that restored his sanity."

Sirius's eyes widened in disbelief. "So, he's got a whole soul again?"

"Not quite whole," Harry explained, his voice measured. "Destroying the Horcruxes weakened him. He's less powerful in raw magical strength now, but his mind is clear. No more unhinged madness or random torture of his followers. From what I saw in Macnair's memories, he's calm, calculating, and cunning. It's worse than the half-crazed maniac we're used to dealing with. Now we're facing Tom Riddle—the same Tom Riddle who charmed and manipulated an entire generation of purebloods into joining him."

Sirius's face paled, his grip tightening further around the glass. "A sane Voldemort." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Merlin help us."

Harry nodded grimly. "That's not all. He's forging alliances we never saw coming. The Schwarzwald Zirkel—remnants of Grindelwald's old followers—have emerged from the shadows. They're providing Voldemort with gold, resources, and political influence."

Sirius's expression twisted in disbelief. "Grindelwald's forces? Why would they support Voldemort?"

Harry leaned forward. "Because Grindelwald isn't dead, Sirius."

The words hit Sirius like a physical blow. "What?" he gasped. "Grindelwald's alive? Where is he?"

Harry's gaze was steady. "It seems Dumbledore wasn't entirely forthcoming about that. Grindelwald is alive, imprisoned somewhere. The Schwarzwald Zirkel doesn't know the exact location, but they believe Dumbledore placed him in a hidden prison after defeating him. They're aiding Voldemort in exchange for his help in finding and freeing Grindelwald."

Sirius's face drained of color. "This can't be real. Grindelwald and Voldemort working together? Grindelwald alone was enough to bring Europe to its knees. If they unite, we don't stand a chance."

"Don't overthink it," Harry said calmly. "Grindelwald's an old man now, and decades of imprisonment will have weakened him. Voldemort is the real threat. The problem is that the Schwarzwald Zirkel are propping him up in the Wizengamot. They're the ones who orchestrated Dumbledore's ousting and are backing Fudge. They've weakened the Auror Department and stifled any attempts to investigate Voldemort."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "And the vampires? You said they've joined Voldemort?"

Harry's expression darkened. "The Carpathian Covenant. One of the oldest and most powerful vampire covens in Eastern Europe. They've allied with Voldemort, lured by the promise of a world without the Statute of Secrecy—where they can hunt freely without fear of retribution. He's using them to track down threats, like me." He paused, the memory of the ambush flashing in his mind. "They're the reason I walked into a trap with Macnair."

Sirius set his glass down with a heavy thud. "Vampires, old dark wizards, and soon possibly Grindelwald himself." He shook his head, pacing the room. "This is beyond insane, Harry."

Harry's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Insane or not, it's real. Voldemort is building a grand alliance of monstrous proportions. The Ministry is already so weak that he won't need much time to topple it."

Sirius stopped pacing and turned to Harry. "We need to warn Amelia Bones. The DMLE can't be left in the dark. Maybe she can—"

"Do what?" Harry interrupted quietly, shaking his head. "The Aurors are shackled by Fudge's incompetence and the Zirkel's influence. They'll be bogged down in politics and sabotage. Time isn't on our side."

Sirius's shoulders slumped. "Then what? Are we supposed to sit back and let Voldemort take over?"

Harry's voice was steady. "I'm confident I can handle Voldemort and the Schwarzwald Zirkel."

"No!" Sirius snapped. "We can't let you charge into this alone. You're still just a student, Harry. No matter how strong you are, you're only one person."

Harry sighed, appreciating his godfather's concern but knowing the reality of their situation. "I know it's dangerous," he admitted. "But if I stand by and do nothing, Voldemort's coalition will become unstoppable."

Sirius looked desperate. "Give it a year. Train more, gather allies. Don't rush into a war by yourself."

Harry glanced out the window, his eyes fixed on the starry sky. "A year might be too long, Sirius," he said softly. "By then, Grindelwald could be free, the vampires entrenched, and the British wizarding world on the brink of collapse. I'll do what I must. That's all there is to it."

The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the soft crackle of the lamp's flame. Sirius closed his eyes, wrestling with pain, fear, pride, and understanding. He knew Harry well enough to realize that words alone wouldn't dissuade him.

"Just be careful," Sirius whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

Harry nodded. "I promise I'll be as careful as I can. Maybe I'll find that mysterious wizard Charles mentioned. If he's as strong as Charles says, teaming up could make all the difference."

The mention of an ally brought a glimmer of hope to Sirius's eyes. "Yes! We have allies too, Harry. Before you act, find him. With his help, I'll feel better knowing you aren't alone. In the meantime, I'll work with Amelia. We'll do whatever we can to clean up the Ministry and strengthen the Aurors."

Harry gave a faint smile. "Sounds good to me. Don't worry—I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve to keep me safe."

As he left Sirius's study and returned to his chambers, Harry's mind churned with strategies and contingencies. This wasn't the canon world with weak Death Eaters and scattered threats. His actions had changed the timeline, creating a far more dangerous reality.

Harry knew he had to act soon—strike at critical points, sabotage Voldemort's plans, and weaken the alliances before they reached full strength.

"This year will be a busy one," Harry thought, determination coursing through him like fire.