The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 22

AN: As always, this is a commissioned work for an anonymous user.

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It took a tremendous amount of patience to simply sit by and watch as Madam Pomfrey worked away at fixing up Astoria. He was no stranger to visits to the Hospital Wing, and as painful as those had been, it was far worse watching someone who you loved have to go through this.

Despite that, Astoria seemed relatively unbothered by it all. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she was putting on a brave face for him to disguise her reactions to the undoubtedly uncomfortable poking and prodding of Madam Pomfrey, but if she was, then she was doing a remarkable job at it.

“Tell me again how this happened?” Madam Pomfrey frowned as she gently ran the tip of her wand along the cut on her shoulder.

Daphne cleared her throat to speak up. She was sitting on the next bed over from Astoria’s, right beside Harry. He squeezed her hand in support.

“We were walking through the dungeons when we were attacked by some Slytherins,” Daphne answered candidly. “They just started cursing us out of nowhere, and Astoria got hit with a spell before I managed to get us into a classroom to hide out.”

“And you still don’t remember the name of the spell?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“If I did, I would’ve told you,” Daphne replied.

Madam Pomfrey tsked at Daphne’s cheek but didn’t comment on it any further. “Well, whatever curse was used was dark. It’s not responding to any normal healing charms, or even some of the more obscure ones I know. I’ll have to write to St Mungo’s to see if they have an expert I can consult with.”

“So the cut is going to stay open?” Harry asked in surprise.

“For now,” Madam Pomfrey told him in a reassuring tone that didn’t match her previous statement. She then turned back to Astoria. “It’s small enough that we’ll just need to keep a dressing over it to soak up any blood. You can come here twice a day to get it changed. Until it gets healed, I’d recommend eating more red meat to help stay healthy. And please try to avoid any strenuous activity that might aggravate your injury.”

“Strenuous activity?” Astoria asked.

“Things like flying, intensive exercising,” Madam Pomfrey listed off.

“What about…” Astoria glanced over at Harry.

Madam Pomfrey followed her look and rolled her eyes. “As long as you two are careful, then yes, you can continue to do… that. I do hope that you’re using protection.”

“Of course,” Astoria nodded. “I take the potion every month.”

“Good,” Madam Pomfrey said. “I’d hate to deal with yet another unexpected pregnancy this year.”

Suddenly, the doors to the Hospital Wing were thrown open. The doors crashed into the walls and then slammed back closed as Lucius Malfoy strode into the room with a look of fury on his face. It struck Harry just how much his angry face looked like Draco’s. Even his perfectly-sculpted blond hair was out of place as he stormed in.

“Professor Malfoy!” Madam Pomfrey said loudly as she rose to her feet and swept around to intercept the man. “This is a hospital, not a zoo. You can’t simply come barging in here like that.”

The furious reply was on the tip of his tongue, but he held himself back at the last moment. He tapped his cane against the floor as a way to recenter himself.

“My apologies,” he said with a sickly-sweet tone. “But this is a matter of the utmost importance. A number of my students were attacked by Mr Potter here.”

“Your students?” Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow. “You mean the Slytherins who attacked Miss Greengrass and Miss Greengrass here?”

Lucius held back from responding to that point directly, even as he glanced over at Astoria and the sight of her bleeding wound. “I am dealing with the issue of Mr Potter at the moment.”

“But given the severity of what has transpired, it ought to be Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, the heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively, who deal with this matter,” Madam Pomfrey countered. “In fact, I’ve already seen fit to contact them the moment I heard from Miss Greengrass as to what had transpired.”

“They do not need to be bothered with matters such as this,” Lucius said dismissively. “I will handle the punishments myself.”

“You most certainly will not,” Professor McGonagall said loudly as she entered the Hospital Wing. “Honestly, Lucius, you should know better than to take matters such as this into your own hands. Was Professor Dumbledore unclear in his instructions that you should defer all significant disruptions and fights to other members of the staff until you become more well-acquainted with the rules here?”

Lucius drew himself up tall as he turned to face McGonagall, who didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest at Lucius’ stance. “I was on the Board of Governors for a number of years, Minerva. I am well aware of what an appropriate punishment for illegal duelling ought to be.”

McGonagall scanned the room. As her eyes crossed over Harry, he saw them soften just the slightest bit. But they then returned to their more serious state as she returned her gaze to Lucius.

“Where are the students who came to you in the first place?” She asked Lucius. “If they were as injured as I’ve heard, you ought to have brought them here straight away.”

“They insisted that they could make it here on their own,” Lucius replied quickly.

“Then why is it that I heard from Professor Snape that they made their way to his office for help instead?” McGonagall asked critically. “As a professor at Hogwarts, you are held to the highest standards of care. If your focus is on doling out punishments before seeing to the health and wellbeing of all of our students, then I believe it may be appropriate to put you through some remedial training with the Headmaster and me.”

Lucius was practically seething at being spoken to in such a way. It nearly brought a smile to Harry’s face, if only he wasn’t seething too. Lucius had been the one to send the Slytherins after Daphne and Astoria in the first place, and he needed to pay for that. But not here, not now. He would reveal the truth to McGonagall and anyone else on his side, but he knew that it was unlikely that much was to come of it. Lucius was too slippery a snake to let himself take the fall for anyone else’s mistakes.

“Perhaps there was a miscommunication on their part,” Lucius said dismissively. “I was quite clear in my instructions for them to seek help immediately.”

“I’m certain that the truth will come to light soon enough,” McGonagall replied with a stern look. “In the interim, Severus and I will be the ones to handle this issue.”

“If I may make a suggestion—” Lucius began.

“You may not,” McGonagall interrupted, but Lucius carried on anyway.

“What Mr Potter has done to so many good students is simply inexcusable,” Lucius stated firmly. “Expulsion should be the least of his worries. A Ministry inquest should be established to examine what he’s done to so many of our future’s best and brightest.”

“Such matters will be determined by myself, Severus, and the Headmaster,” McGonagall replied. “Not you.”

Lucius’ nostrils flared. “The Minister will hear about this—”

“I’m sure he will,” McGonagall said sharply. “For now, it is time for you to leave.”

Lucius glared darkly at McGonagall but kept his mouth shut. He spun around on his heels and stormed out of the Hospital Wing with a fury rarely seen from any professor. McGonagall stared at his back with each step he took until the doors to the Hospital Wing slammed shut again.

“Honestly,” Madam Pomfrey sighed. “I don’t understand what Albus was doing in hiring a man like that.”

“He didn’t have much choice,” McGonagall replied. Her lips pressed tightly together in disapproval. “The few other candidates we were able to find on short notice happened to rescind their requests to join the staff mere hours after Lucius put forward his own candidacy.”

Harry, who had remained silent throughout the entire conflict alongside Daphne and Astoria, finally let out a snort. He wondered if this happened at Voldemort’s request. Still, he and Professor Dumbledore both still wondered as to why Lucius was here in the first place. Was it merely to keep an eye on Harry, or was there some other motivation?

McGonagall turned around to the three of them and focused her gaze on Harry. “Professor Snape already managed to get the full story out of his students, however, I have quite a few reservations about the severity of the damage you dealt to them in retaliation.”

“They were going to blow down a door just to try to hurt Astoria and Daphne,” Harry protested strongly. “The entire Slytherin Quidditch team was there plus Crabbe and Goyle. I had to stop them.”

“Did you not think of finding a professor to stop this?” McGonagall asked as she raised a critical eyebrow.

“There wasn’t any time,” Harry answered sincerely. “I didn’t know exactly what they were up to until I got there.”

“You do realise that multiple students have broken or fractured bones, and Draco Malfoy burst an eardrum,” Professor McGonagall said.

“The git deserved it,” Harry said angrily. “He tried to use the Killing Curse on me.”

McGonagall sucked in a deep breath at that, and Astoria and Daphne’s faces both went pale. “That is a very serious accusation, Mr Potter.”

“It’s a truthful one,” he said.

“We’ll need to involve Professor Dumbledore in this,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Go on up to his office. I’ll send a message along that you’re going to see him.”

“I can’t just leave Astoria and Daphne like this,” Harry protested. “What if they leave and get attacked again?”

“They can go with you, if Poppy’s all done with them,” McGonagall replied. At Madam Pomfrey’s nod, McGonagall continued. “It’s best if you three go. Now.”

Madam Pomfrey came around and applied a fresh layer of gauze over the cut on Astoria’s shoulder and then readjusted her robes to cover it back up.

“Thank you,” Astoria said as she stood up.

“You’re welcome dear,” Madam Pomfrey smiled at her. “Remember to be here before breakfast tomorrow to get your dressing changed.”

“I will,” Astoria promised.

Harry helped Daphne up and they quickly made their way to Astoria’s side. She smiled up at them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry asked her as he cracked a grin. “Because I could carry you all the way up to the Headmaster’s office if you wanted.”

“As tempting as that offer is,” Astoria giggled. “I’d prefer to walk on my own two feet.”

The three of them left the Hospital Wing shortly and headed for the Grand Staircase that would lead them to the Headmaster’s Office. Just as they reached the playful stairs, Harry heard pounding footsteps coming from below. He peered over a railing to find Professor Snape leading his Slytherins up, presumably to the Hospital Wing.

“Wonder if I could spit on them from here,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Professor Snape would probably murder you,” Daphne said with an unusually cheery smile.

Harry hummed in agreement and continued up the staircase, occasionally glaring down at those men who’d dared to harm his girlfriends. A part of him wanted to charge back downstairs and attack them for ever going through with their idiotic scheme, but his love and care for Astoria and Daphne kept him from that.

By the time they reached the Headmaster’s Office, Harry felt like he’d calmed down again. Hearing Lucius try to lie and excuse his way out of the situation had been infuriating enough, and it was only thanks to McGonagall’s intervention that’d stopped Harry from interjecting himself into that confrontation.

The stone gargoyle that barred the entrance to Dumbledore’s office leapt aside at their approach. The spiral staircase carried them up to the wooden door that led into Dumbledore’s domain. Harry gave it a quick knock, which was immediately answered.

“Come in,” Dumbledore called out.

Harry opened the door to find the old man sitting behind his desk. Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, was perched atop a silver stand, crooning as Dumbledore stroked his feathers.

“Ah, I have been expecting you, Harry,” Dumbledore smiled. “And you two are a welcomed sight as well, Daphne and Astoria. Were it not for our meeting over the summer, I fear that I would not have gotten to know either of you well enough to recognise your magical talents for what they are.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Daphne said dutifully as she headed into the room. Harry and Astoria followed her close behind.

Three chairs had been laid out on the opposite side of Dumbledore’s desk, and the three of them sat down quickly. Dumbledore, however, didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. He took his time tossing small treats to Fawkes before he returned his focus to all of them.

“Dark magic leaves scars, as I am sure you are well aware,” Dumbledore said pointedly, not needing to look up at Harry’s scar to know that his point came across. “It is one of the reasons it is heavily restricted by the Ministry. One of the most marvellous things about magic is its ability to repair and reconstruct things. For instance—”

With a casual swipe of his hand, Dumbledore knocked a glass goblet off of his desk. Fawkes squawked noisily as the glass shattered on the floor.

“I am sorry,” Dumbledore apologised to his pet phoenix before drawing his wand. “Reparo.”

The glass shards floated into the air smoothly and swiftly patched themselves back together. It was a mesmerising sight that reminded Harry exactly why magic was so beautiful. The reconstructed goblet didn’t have a single mark or piece of glass out of place as it came to a rest back down on Dumbledore’s desk.

“This is what makes magic truly wonderful,” Dumbledore continued. “Yes, conjuring majestic creations and performing incredible feats in combat are astounding, but they pale in comparison to the simple wonder of being able to fix your mistakes. Dark magic rarely leaves any ways to fix such mistakes. Not only does it leave a scar upon the world, it also leaves one on your soul. It takes a great deal of will and love to ever be able to correct such things.”

“I’m sorry, professor,” Harry began. “But what does this have to do with this? Professor McGonagall said that you wanted to see me about what transpired today.”

“Indeed I do,” Dumbledore confirmed, stroking his long beard. “And I’d hoped that you’d have picked up on my meaning by now.”

“You believe his actions to be driven by his use of dark magic?” Daphne asked perceptively.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore nodded.

“That’s preposterous,” Harry protested. “I did it to keep Daphne and Astoria safe.”

“And yet you used an incredible amount of force,” Dumbledore noted. “There were countless ways of distracting or disarming those who threatened to harm your beloveds, but you chose the path of direct, violent action. I am not chastising you for your choice of magic; I am merely reminding you of where your thoughts originate from.”

Suddenly, Harry felt like a young schoolboy. Despite the fact that he was twenty-years old, Dumbledore had a way of explaining things that made him feel so juvenile in comparison.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Harry finally said. “If I hadn’t intervened, they might’ve gotten to Daphne and Astoria and hurt them even more.”

“They might have indeed,” Dumbledore agreed. “Or they may have failed to do so. We may never know the outcome. All that we can choose to reckon with are the choices that you made.”

Harry understood where he was coming from, but everything in his mind and body vehemently disagreed with his position.

“I still think that I acted the best way I could at the moment,” Harry argued gently. “If I’d had more time to think, then maybe I could’ve come up with an alternative approach that would’ve led to less violence, but I didn’t. I had to act in the time that I had.”

“Precisely,” Dumbledore smiled. “You acted in the time that you had, and you resorted to a more violent option. I am suggesting that you should work on reorienting your thinking to focus on less violent approaches. For instance, had you created a loud noise, it may have disrupted the Slytherin’s attempts to breach into the room. There are many other methods of creating a distraction that could have led to a non-violent approach.”

“I did what I thought was right,” Harry said weakly.

“And what you did was just, in a sense,” Dumbledore agreed. “I do not begrudge you for acting the way you did, Harry. There is little more precious than those that we love and cherish in this world, but there are always consequences to our actions. Lucius is now on a warpath to see you punished for your actions, and he intends to involve the Ministry. While your actions may have been justified, they have led to consequences that will lead to further confrontations that you must face. If you continue to respond in the same manner, you may find yourself at odds with the Ministry itself.”

Was that such a bad thing? Minister Fudge was an idiot beyond belief. The limited interactions Harry had with him as well as the reports in the press that he’d read had left him with a poor impression of the Minister for Magic.

But that was short-sighted thinking. Angering the Minister would lead to him angering the Ministry as a whole. That would only lead to trouble for himself and those he loved. No matter what, he couldn’t take on an entire institution alone.

“I’m sorry,” Harry finally said.

“I appreciate that, Harry,” Dumbledore replied. “But be that as it may, I implore you to be more careful going forward. Fiendfyre is a spell so dark that it will linger upon your soul for a long time. It may not be inherently obvious that it is influencing your behaviour, but it is. You will be more aggressive and more prone to confrontation, and I simply hope that you mitigate its effects by spending quality time with your loved ones.”

“I’ll do so, Professor,” Harry assured him.

“I am glad to hear it, my boy,” Dumbledore smiled.

“What’s to happen to him about the events of today?” Daphne asked calmly.

“Twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor for excessive use of force,” Dumbledore proclaimed. “And Harry will serve a week of detention with Mr Filch. Otherwise, nothing. I will ensure that any issues with the Ministry will be resolved.”

“And what of those brutes who attacked us?” Astoria asked passionately.

“They will be dealt with in a suitable manner,” Dumbledore assured her. “It is not appropriate to speak of other student’s punishments to others, so I will leave that aside for now. Do trust in the fact that they will receive a just punishment for the acts that they have committed and that the entire staff will be keeping a close eye on all of them for the foreseeable future.”

“But what about Draco?” Astoria insisted. “He tried to kill Harry!”

Dumbledore’s face shifted to something more pensive and serious now. Harry could see his mind wandering, contemplating how to respond to this.

“What Draco attempted to do was beyond reprehensible, but not, I believe, without a root cause,” Dumbledore began slowly. “His father’s influence on him seems to have grown with Voldemort’s return and Lucius’ tenure at Hogwarts. He is surrounded by darkness on all sides, and he is suffocating within it, making choices that no one should make.”

“Are you seriously trying to excuse what he tried to do?” Daphne asked, unable to hide the scorn in her voice.

“I am trying to understand why he made the choice he did today,” Dumbledore corrected her gently. “And I wish to find a way to help Draco so that he never makes such a poor choice again.”

“So, he’s getting off free then?” Daphne asked coldly.

“No,” Dumbledore replied. “He will be punished in accordance with his behaviour today. However, as he did not actually perform the unforgivable curse, close as he came to actually using it, I cannot punish him for it. I will, however, seek to remedy his behaviours so that he never feels tempted to use that spell again.”

As frustrated as Harry felt, he could tell that Astoria and Daphne were angrier than he was.

“That’s unacceptable,” Daphne declared. “We have Harry’s memory of the incident! We can bring it to the Ministry and see Draco punished!”

“But he won’t actually, right?” Astoria asked, deflating.

Dumbledore offered a weak smile. “His father is Minister Fudge’s closest confidant, and he has tremendous sway upon the Wizengamot. Even if that were not the case, it has long been a standing law within Britain that only spells that are fully attempted to be cast may be punished in the Wizengamot. If Draco had fully completed the incantation of the curse and it failed to work as intended, then he could still face prosecution. However, as Professor Snape informed me, Draco was stopped before he could do so. As unfortunate as it is, the Wizengamot would not treat this as an attempt against Harry’s life.”

So, no matter what, there was nothing to be done? Of course. It was just like when he was forced into the Triwizard Tournament last year. In so many ways, the Wizarding World was backwards and tied up in convoluted rituals and the whims of the rich, powerful, and pure-blooded families.

Astoria still seemed outraged, but Daphne had an understanding look on her face. Out of the three of them, she was the most likely to understand the realities of the legal system given the education her parents provided for her.

“Alright,” Harry said. “But if he tries anything like this again—”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said sadly. “Please do not utter any threats against another student. I understand that you must do what you must in order to keep yourself and your loved ones safe, but coming at it from a place of anger is not the path to a happy future.”

Harry sagged back in his seat. Dumbledore wasn’t entirely wrong, but it didn’t feel satisfying in any way.

Astoria still wasn’t ready to let the matter rest. “Even if Harry’s willing to keep the peace, are the men who attacked us willing to do the same?” Astoria asked. “If we go back to the Slytherin dorms, isn’t there a chance that we’ll be attacked again?”

“Yes, there is,” Dumbledore replied regretfully. Even his feelings of care for each student weren’t willing to blind him to the harsh reality of things. “As such, I have considered one of Harry’s previous suggestions to move the three of you into a private room. The Hogwarts House-Elves have prepared a private room for you on the fifth floor that should serve as a comfortable residence. It was once used as a room for our married students, but as such things became less common in the past couple of decades, the rooms fell out of use. You will be able to set your own password, which will be shared with myself and Professor McGonagall, and all of your belongings will be brought into the room at once.”

A massive weight lifted off of Harry’s chest.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said sincerely.

“Think nothing of it,” Dumbledore waved him off. “I merely wish to act in the best interest of all of my students. Now, I have one last thing for you.”

Harry watched curiously as Dumbledore opened a drawer behind his desk and pulled out a hefty, old tome. The brown-leather cover read: A Wellspring of Transfiguration.

Dumbledore sat the tome upon the desk and slid it across to Harry. “This was a formative book for me in my youth. It was written in 1873 by a man who lived just down the road from my family, and it quickly became a staple across magical communities throughout the globe. Since then, new developments and more informative books have been published, but nothing has managed to capture the wonder and fascination I have for transfiguration quite like this book. I hope that you read it and take some inspiration from it. It may help you to develop some unusual flair and creativity in your repertoire.”

Harry pulled the tome onto his lap and ran his fingers along the cover. It felt well used.

“I will,” Harry promised him.

“Good,” Dumbledore smiled. “Now, it is best if you head off for the night. The temporary password that I have established is: Fizzing Wizzbees.”

“We truly appreciate all of your help, Headmaster,” Daphne said diplomatically as she stood up from her seat. Even if she wasn’t entirely satisfied with his decisions, she still kept to her niceties to the best of her ability.

“I strive to do what is right for all of my students,” Dumbledore smiled.

“I won’t forget this. It’s a weight off of my shoulders knowing that Daphne and Astoria won’t have to stay somewhere dangerous,” Harry assured him. Keeping Astoria and Daphne safe from harm was his number one priority, and the assistance from Dumbledore was nothing short of wonderful in his eyes.

“I hope that you don’t,” Dumbledore replied. “Remember this feeling of love and care in your heart, Harry. Let it guide you as you go forth.”

“I’ll try,” Harry promised him.