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The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2024-07-12 15:59:01 +0000 UTCAN: As always, this is a commissioned work for an anonymous user.
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Harry prowled along the far width of the training room like a caged animal. He was frustrated with himself… again. He couldn’t seem to shake this never ending anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. Was he already past the point of no return? Was a single use of Fiendfyre enough to damn him eternally?
No. At least, not according to what Dumbledore had told him. The old wizard had said that time and love would be the key to getting past this, but he’d also said that his anger would fade day by day if he stuck to this. And yet, whatever progress he’d made in the weeks since had been minuscule at best.
His anger was bone deep, cloying and consuming. It begged for violence, destruction, and the continued use of dark magic.
Even now, he twirled the tip of his wand in the start of the motion that would conjure Fiendfyre. He did it subconsciously, but his body sang whenever he did it. It was begging him to take that next step, to give in and use his magic to fuel the spell, to let it burn through everything in its path until there was nothing left but the flames. Even Harry himself would be consumed too, but only at the very end once he’d given it everything he had.
There was a dark fixation that drew him to actually consider this. A faint, vain hope that just giving his body a little bit of what it wanted would lead to all of his troubles leaving him.
But that was a lie. His anger would never abate so long as he used dark magic.
So, he stuffed that thought deep down inside of his brain where no one would ever find it. But it had legs, and every so often, it crept back to the fore of his mind.
Like right now.
“Let’s try that again,” Astoria called out from across the room. She was in her training robes, just as Harry was, with a thin sheen of sweat covering her forehead. They’d started the day by having Harry practise some new spells on Astoria, which she blocked or dodged to the best of her ability. Now, it was Harry’s turn to practise his blocking and dodging.
At the halfway point in the room, behind a carefully enchanted, protective wall, Daphne watched the two of them train. True to her word, after Harry had his two days of rest, she’d been with him every single day for training.
Daphne was the ultimate arbiter for when it was time to bring things to a close, and she absolutely refused to let Harry argue his case to continue training. She didn’t want to see him aggravate his injuries, and so she took great pains to make sure that his training was as safe yet fulfilling as possible. She usually joined in, giving Harry the chance to practise with someone different or letting him fight against her and Astoria at the same time.
Although she often annoyed Harry by stopping his training before he thought that he’d done enough for the day, he respected her greatly for standing up to his shite. She was always firm but never mean, and his shoulder ached a lot less now. He owed her greatly for this, as he did Astoria.
But such thoughts rarely filled his mind when rage was at the fore.
Harry continued to pace back and forth as Astoria called out to him again.
“You did really well last time!” She told him encouragingly.
No, he hadn’t. He’d dodged over a dozen spells and blocked half as many before Astoria had clipped him with a jelly-legs jinx. The humility of the spell was nothing compared to the humility of being taken down so easily. He needed to be able to withstand a protracted fight with one of the vilest wizards the world had ever seen.
“Just start whenever you're ready!” Harry shouted back roughly.
If his tone of voice upset Astoria, she didn’t show it. She simply dropped into her ready stance, bending her knees slightly and aiming her wand towards his form.
Not again, Harry said to himself. She won’t get me again.
If there was one thing that had improved most for all three of them during their training, it was their silent casting. Most of the time, they didn’t bother verbalising their spells, even if doing so generally offered an extra bit of power.
Astoria fired off three quick spells, stunners by the look of them, towards Harry without prejudice. There was enough distance between them that Harry was able to move out of the way of them easily by simply continuing his prowl along the far wall. He hadn’t even bothered to lift his wand.
She should be pushing him, closing the gap, and not giving him a chance to breathe. Instead, she moved forward slowly, looking for an opening she could exploit. He didn’t understand why she was doing this; after all, it wasn’t like he could fight back.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from lashing out verbally at Astoria, chastising her for still taking things too cautiously. He hated the way she treated him gently in their duels, even if it was done out of genuine love and concern.
Merlin, why was he thinking this way? He shouldn’t be upset with her for loving him! This damned dark magic was—
Finally, Astoria unleashed her next volley of spells. A resounding stream of red jets of light culminated in hefty explosions all around Harry, which he was forced to shield against. Thick, black smoke surrounded for just a moment, obscuring his vision. He knew what was coming next and dropped to his belly preemptively.
Faintly through the smoke, he saw a couple more spells pass overhead and crash against the wall behind him. Harry quickly rolled aside, predicting that Astoria would follow up by targeting the floor once she heard her spells hit the wall.
It was all too easy to get back to his feet. Astoria spotted him rolling out of the smoke and tried to adjust her aim to strike him, but that was easier said than done in the heat of the moment. Her spells went wide again.
Why wouldn’t she just rush him like he did to her? It was the smart thing to do! Did she think that she was giving him better practice by playing around cautiously like this? Voldemort and his Death Eaters wouldn’t be cautious!
Arrogantly, Harry pushed forward. If Astoria wasn’t going to close the gap, then he would.
Astoria’s eyes widened as Harry dashed forward, leaving barely a ten-metre gap between them. It was big enough that Harry would still have time to react, but he’d need to be quick.
As if gaining energy from Harry’s sudden burst of speed, Astoria began casting faster. Her wand whipped back and forth as a steady stream of spells shot towards Harry.
Harry barely needed to look at the spells anymore to understand where they were headed; he swore that he could practically taste the magic in the air, feel its tingle along his skin, sense it resonating within his body. Harry invited the overwhelming attack wholeheartedly, knowing that this was closer to what he needed to be able to withstand Voldemort and his forces. But he still wanted more from Astoria. More violence, more ferocity, more power.
He wanted to stare death in the face once more and prove to himself that he could defeat it.
He dodged side to side, making every step count. He never moved more than he needed to and tried to let his movements flow naturally with his body. Unfortunately, he wasn’t perfectly successful with that. The aches and pains his body had suffered at the hands of Voldemort still lingered even now. Normally, they were quite faint, but they amplified whenever he exerted himself.
As he shifted his weight onto his left foot, his shoulder let out a sharp twinge of making, making Harry hesitate for just half of a second. At this close range, half of a second could be the difference between life and death, and he chastised himself as he brought up his shield.
He needed to be stronger than this! He needed to let go of all of his pain and fight through it. If he just cast Fiendfyre again for just a moment, it’d give him the adrenaline rush he needed to do exactly that.
His hand moved, his mouth forming the words.
“Fuck!” Harry shouted, hurling his wand to the floor. It clattered away from him on the floor.
“Are you okay?” Astoria asked with deep concern lacing her voice. She lowered her wand instantly, rushing forward to check on Harry.
“Why did you stop?” Harry shouted at her, unable to contain his rage. “You should have pressed your advantage when you had the chance! Voldemort wouldn’t have quit!”
Astoria came up a few feet short from Harry, hurt lingering across her face.
“I was worried about you,” Astoria emphasised. “I thought you were hurt.”
No, but she almost was. If he hadn’t stopped himself…
Daphne came out from behind her cover and strode over towards them. She put herself between Harry and Astoria, staring down Harry with a serious look in her eyes.
“Astoria isn’t Voldemort,” she told him sternly. “Nor is she one of his Death Eaters. She’s her own person, and she has her own style of duelling. You can’t expect to behave viciously if that’s not in her nature. It’s not fair to put that on her.”
Harry wanted to rage and argue, to discount every word that Daphne said as nothing but foolishness, but he didn’t. Daphne put her hands on her hips, staring at him unblinkingly until he looked away first.
Merlin, why did he have to be like this?
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, staring down at his feet. “I’m having a bad day.”
“Tell that to Astoria,” Daphne snapped at him.
Harry looked up. Astoria looked more worried than sad, but at least she didn’t seem scared of him. He didn’t know if he could live with himself if he made her feel that way.
“I’m truly sorry, Astoria,” he said softly. “For being rude to you. You’re… Daphne’s right. You have your own way of fighting, and just because I’m angry and aggressive all the time doesn’t mean that I should try to make you that way too. You’re already doing so much just by helping me, and I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, Harry,” Astoria softened instantly. She moved past Daphne to wrap Harry up in a tight hug. “I know this is all so difficult for you, but we love you so much. You try so hard everyday, and I know it’s never enough progress for you, but all of us have grown leaps and bounds since summer started.”
She wasn’t wrong on any of those three things. They had become far more competent duellists, and they’re skills were growing each day, but it still was nothing compared to what Voldemort was capable of.
But this wasn’t the time to discuss it.
“Harry’s still struggling with his use of dark magic,” Daphne commented.
“I figured the aftereffects would’ve started to die down by now,” Astoria said as she pulled out of the hug and examined Harry’s face like she could spot some sign that she’d missed.
“Each case is different, but Harry used one of the darkest spells in existence,” Daphne pointed out. “There might be days, like today, where he regresses a bit, but what matters is that things will get better so long as we’re careful. I’m guessing that he threw down his wand because he was about to do something that he was going to regret.”
Harry’s guilty expression told them everything they needed to know. “I normally have it under better control than this,” Harry admitted.
“You need to tell us when it’s getting bad so that we can take a break,” Daphne told him. “We can’t afford to have any accidents happen. If you slip up even once and use any dark magic again, it’ll set back your progress tremendously. We’ll still be here for you if that happens, but all of us have our breaking points, and I won’t accept being with someone who's angry all the time.”
Harry swallowed and nodded his head. “Understood. I’ll do better.”
“Good,” Daphne said, finally softening up a bit too. She gave Harry a hug and sweet, lingering kiss on his lips.
“How do you know so much about this?” Astoria asked. “Do you have a book or something I could read?”
Daphne shook her head as she released Harry. “Mother and father prepared me in a lot of ways for my future marriage. One of them was teaching me about the signs of dark magic usage in people. A lot of pure-bloods use it, and it can lead to a lot of problems at home. They wanted me to be able to recognise it and know how to help someone through it, or how to defend myself if I had no other choice.”
A chill ran down Harry’s spine.
Was Daphne already wondering how to protect herself and Astoria from him?
“I’ll try to do better—” he began to say.
“I know you can’t always help how you feel,” Daphne assured him quickly. “But if you’re ever really angry or upset, you need to tell us. Communication is the bedrock of any good relationship, and love is what will help you get better.”
Astoria’s lips twitched up in amusement. “Is that why you’ve been shagging him so much this past week?”
Daphne’s cheeks pinkened lightly. “Something like that,” she murmured.
“Definitely not because you love how good he feels inside of you, right?” Astoria giggled.
“Shut up,” Daphne snapped, turning away quickly before either of them could see her blush worsen.
Harry smiled halfheartedly, thankful for the light change in tone. These two women were better than he deserved, and he needed to prove to them that he was worth their love.
All he had to do was get past this damned anger. But with these two by his side, he knew that he could overcome anything.
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“You don’t call, you don’t write,” an exasperated voice cried out. “I’ve been worried sick, cooped up all day inside of that stuffy old house, and after countless attempts of reaching you, I finally find you just lounging by a pool with two beautiful witches on your arms?”
Harry would’ve had the decency to look embarrassed if the entire situation wasn’t so completely hilarious. He was laying down on a pool chair with Daphne and Astoria on ones right next to him. The plush cushions effectively formed a wide bed for the three of them to lay across. They were all in their respective swim-wear but had decided that they’d lounge in the sun for a while before they slipped into the water.
“Should I dispose of him?” Hobsy, the Greengrass’ young house-elf, asked, wiggling her fingers as sparks of magic danced between them.
“No no no no no no,” Sirius Black repeated, waving his arms around wildly in protest. He was dangling upside down from a rope tied around his left ankle above the pool in front of them. His face had already turned red from all of the blood rushing to it, and he was wrestling to keep his robes from falling over his face. “Absolutely under no circumstances should you dispose of me. Ever.”
“What if you get fleas?” Harry asked innocently.
“Harry, please,” Sirius whined. “I travelled so far to find you. Please, just let me down.”
Harry glanced down at the pool of water beneath Sirius’ head. Would it be too mean to let him fall right down into it?
Well… he did ask to be let down.
“Alright Hobsy, let him down,” Harry said with a mischievous grin.
Harry let out a belly laugh as Sirius plummeted into the water. It’d been a long time since he’d laughed like this, probably not since before the Third Task took place. It felt good to let himself relax like this and not be so serious and angry all the time.
“That was so mean,” Astoria pouted at Harry.
“Maybe next time he should try knocking on our front door rather than sneaking around the manor grounds,” Daphne pointed out.
Sirius emerged from the water spluttering with an annoyed look on his face.
“Really?” He asked Harry.
“I just did like you asked,” Harry chuckled.
Taking pity on his godfather, Harry pulled out his wand from his swim trunks and gave it a wave. Sirius was hoisted up out of the water and deposited on the edge of the pool before Harry then magically dried him off.
Pushing himself up to his feet, Harry embraced the man with a warm hug. “It’s good to see you, Sirius.”
“I see you’ve developed a sense of humour since I saw you last,” Sirius replied snarkily, hugging Harry back.
“I suppose,” Harry agreed.
“Well,” Sirius said, a glint in his eye. “Just remember that what goes around comes around.”
Harry realised his mistake far too late when Sirius, still holding onto him, pitched both of them into the pool.
The girls were laughing at them as they bobbed back up to the surface of the water. Sirius had the biggest grin on his face that Harry had ever seen.
“You’ve still got much to learn,” Sirius laughed.
It heartened Harry to see Sirius looking so well. After his stint in Azkaban, the man had become gaunt and frail. A bit of time spent being free had clearly done him plenty of good. He had put some weight back on, even if he was still on the leaner side of things, and his eyes didn’t quite have that same haunted, hallowed look that they had the last time Harry had seen him in person.
“I guess I do,” Harry laughed along with him.
They both climbed out of the pool, and Astoria thankfully dried them off again.
“I don’t blame you for not writing if you had these two lovely ladies to keep you company,” Sirius teased Harry lightly.
“This is Astoria,” Harry said, gesturing to her. “She’s the one who you helped me work up the courage to ask out to the Yule Ball.”
“Of course!” Sirius exclaimed. “I knew you had it in you.”
“And this is Daphne, her older sister,” Harry added.
“Sisters… you can’t mean…” Sirius looked into Harry’s eyes for any hint of deceit, and when he found none, he let out a howl of approval. “Oh, Harry! You’re more of a dog than I am! James would be so proud!”
He hugged Harry tightly all over again as Astoria and Daphne laughed.
“I don’t know about that,” Astoria said teasingly. “Aren’t you the one who’s actually a dog animagus?”
“You can’t go giving all my secrets away, Harry,” Sirius chastised Harry lightly. “How else am I supposed to make a spectacle of myself the next time I want to surprise your girlfriends?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Harry replied.
“What’s going on out here?”
The four of them turned to see Cyrus and Anastasia walking down the stone pathway towards them, each with their wands drawn.
“It’s okay,” Harry assured them. “My godfather tried to sneak onto the manor grounds to check up on me.”
“Harry, do you know what he’s done?” Cyrus asked, assuming a dangerous pose with his wand pointed at Sirius’ chest.
Harry stepped out in front of his godfather with his arms outstretched. “Whatever you’ve heard about him, it isn’t true. Sirius is innocent of everything. I can explain it all to you if you’d just put your wand down.”
It was a testament to just how accustomed Cyrus had gotten to Harry’s presence here over the past weeks, or maybe it was due to his positive perception of the young man, that Cyrus lowered his wand at Harry’s word. Anastasia, however, didn’t.
“Perhaps we should speak inside,” Cyrus said, glancing around.
“We’ll go get changed and meet you in the formal sitting room,” Daphne said quickly as she got to her feet.
Harry turned back to Sirius. “It’s probably best if you go with them for now. We’ll meet you inside in just a few minutes.”
“Alright,” Sirius agreed, eyeing Anastasia’s wand warily. “But if they kill me or send me back to Azkaban, just know that you won’t be getting any more birthday or Christmas presents from me.”
Harry snorted in amusement. “It’s a deal then.”
The six of them headed inside and split up. Harry, Daphne, and Astoria hurried upstairs to get changed while the others headed for the formal sitting room. It was a place for serious discussions between the members of the Greengrass family or their close acquaintances.
Harry was wondering how he was meant to explain to Cyrus and Anastasia about Sirius’ past and how he was innocent. At best, he could offer his memories as proof if they had a pensieve on hand. He hoped that whatever rapport he’d built up with Cyrus was enough to convince him. Anastasia would undoubtedly prove to be a more difficult challenge.
Minutes later, Harry and the girls arrived at the formal sitting room, finding a tense silence between Sirius, Cyrus, and Anastasia. A stark look of relief crossed Cyrus’ face when the three of them finally returned.
“Lord Black here filled us in—” Cyrus said, only to be cut off by Sirius clearing his throat.
“Just Sirius,” he said. “None of this Lord Black nonsense. I doubt the Ministry would even recognise me as such anymore.”
“Because you’re a wanted criminal,” Anastasia said coldly. “In my home.”
“Believe me, the only reason I’m here is because you have my godson,” Sirius retorted hotly. “And I’ll have you know that I’m innocent of all charges.”
Anastasia snorted. “A likely story. One that most inmates in Azkaban have held to at one point or another.”
“It’s true,” Harry interjected, drawing their attention over to him. “Peter Pettigrew was the one who gave up my parents to Voldemort and murdered those muggles. Sirius never had anything to do with any of it. You can ask Dumbledore himself; he knows what Peter did after we managed to get Pettigrew to confess everything last year.”
“If that’s the case, then why isn’t Pettigrew in Azkaban?” Cyrus asked.
“Because Pettigrew escaped,” Harry admitted through gritted teeth. “But he’s still out there. I saw him again just a few weeks ago.”
“At Hogwarts?” Cyrus asked.
Harry shook his head and glanced over at Astoria and Daphne. Both of them were fully aware of Voldemort’s return, as was Dumbledore, but as far as Harry knew, no one else was in the know. They certainly hadn’t told anyone else, but Dumbledore might have.
He recalled the wizened man’s words: “Tell those whom you trust to keep it a secret.”
In truth, he didn’t know if either Cyrus or Anastasia could be trusted. From what he knew, the Greengrass family hadn’t been directly aligned with Voldemort before. Neither Cyrus or Anastasia had his Dark Mark either. But Harry couldn’t say that he knew either of them well enough to be a proper judge of their character. Would they keep this a secret?
Daphne and Astoria both seemed to pick up on the unspoken question Harry was asking them. Daphne looked quite pensive, but Astoria was the one who surprised him. She nodded her head.
“Go on,” she prompted him gently. “They’ll keep it a secret, if only to protect us.”
“Protect you from what?” Cyrus asked, suddenly sitting up straighter.
“From Voldemort,” Harry answered, leaving Cyrus and Anastasia recoiling in shock. Sirius didn’t seem surprised by the news, so Harry assumed that Dumbledore must have informed him about what took place. “There was a trap during the Third Task. The Triwizard Cup was a portkey, and it whisked me away to a place where I was captured by Wormtail and had my blood used in Voldemort’s resurrection. He’s back, and the world’s going to be plunged back into war soon enough.”
“That’s why you three have been training so much,” Anastasia murmured, lost in thought.
“Dumbledore’s already organising a resistance movement,” Sirius chimed in carefully, trusting that if Harry was going to reveal this information to Cyrus and Anastasia, it would be prudent to let them know that more was being done on the matter. “We’re keeping an eye on known and suspected Death Eaters, watching their movements and seeing who they meet with.”
“Spying, essentially,” Anastasia said with a tone that expressed exactly how little she thought of the idea.
“Not much else we can do with Fudge in charge of the Ministry,” Sirius shrugged.
“Does he even know about this?” Cyrus asked.
Sirius and Harry both shook their heads at the same time.
“Merlin,” Cyrus sighed, sagging down in his seat. “This is madness.”
“Madness is what will rule if Voldemort isn’t stopped,” Harry corrected him. “He’s already tried to take over the Wizarding World once. He’ll do it again.”
“He’ll come after you too,” Anastasia added pointedly, her mind already spinning ahead to understand the potential ramifications of it all. “You’re the only one who ever beat him. He can’t leave you alive since it’d make him look weak.”
“That’s why I plan to fight back,” Harry replied.
“And we’ll be with him through it all,” Astoria stated firmly, grabbing onto Harry’s arm.
“That’s right,” Daphne agreed, taking up Harry’s other side.
In that moment, Harry felt a tremendous amount of sympathy for the two parents who were just witnessing their daughters commit themselves to war. They were the ones alive through Voldemort’s first war. They saw the horrific things done in his name to those who opposed him. Perhaps they were imagining those same sickening things being done to their daughters right now.
Harry expected protests, rage, or even pleading for the girls to reconsider, but instead all he was met with was a deafening silence.
Cyrus looked unable to formulate even a single word while a sour look crossed Anastasia’s face as she continued to play out various permutations of the future in her mind. Neither of them seemed keen on trying to tackle this complicated issue, which was why Astoria did it for them.
“Remember when we talked a couple weeks ago,” she said softly. “You wanted to make amends and learn more about our relationship with Harry? Well, I think I made it clear then just how attached Daphne and I are to him. You two still have a lot to make up for over trying to break Harry and I up, and supporting us in this would be a wonderful first step.”
“You can’t actually expect us to—” Anastasia tried to speak, but for what was perhaps the first time in their marriage, Cyrus shushed her.
“Of course we will,” Cyrus told them. “You two are the most wonderful daughters we could have ever asked for, better than we deserve. You’re both so wonderful and intelligent. I know that if this is the decision you two have made, it wasn’t done lightly. We’ll help you in any way we can.”
A swell of hope filled Harry’s chest. He knew that this was exactly the type of unconditional love that Astoria and Daphne had always wanted from their father. The fact that he was standing up to Anastasia too meant the world.
But it didn’t mean much if Anastasia wasn’t on board too.
“This is your chance to make things right,” Daphne chimed in, meeting her mother’s gaze.
Anastasia glanced down at her feet for a moment before she opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius beat her to the punch.
“Look, I don’t know the full story of what’s going on here or what your family dynamic is like, but I can imagine from having grown up in a pure-blood family myself,” Sirius grimaced. “But my time spent away in Azkaban really taught me a valuable lesson: there’s nothing more important than family. But family doesn’t have anything to do with blood; family comes from choice. Blood-related or not, family won’t stick around if you don’t choose to love them. I love Harry more than anyone else in the world. He’s family to me, and I’d give up anything to see him live a long, happy, and successful life in any way he wants to lead it, even if it goes against what I hope for him. Not that you’re doing a bad job on that front! I mean, two witches…”
Harry chuckled. “Thanks, Sirius.”
All eyes turned back to Anastasia. If she didn’t choose to support Astoria and Daphne now, she might lose them forever. And honestly, even with that on the line, Harry wasn’t sure what choice she’d make.
Seconds passed by in silence.
Finally, she spoke.
“I suppose that as long as you’re still with Daphne…” Anastasia trailed off, biting her lower lip. “I’ll be here for all of you too.”
The relief that swept across everyone’s faces was more than palpable. It was as though an uplifting energy filled the room and literally raised everyone’s spirits up.
For the first time in months, Astoria and Daphne hugged their mother.
Comments
jp9901
Great chapter
Arctis_Shox
How would you suggest I make it less hamfisted and overdone?
Cqys
I really do enjoy this story. The dark magic subplot is...hamfisted and comically over done so I just skip over it but everything else is incredible. One of the few ways I've seen a triad relationship form more organically given the strife in the beginning.
Erinnyes
Great chapter. You're doing a wonderful job balancing highly emotional situations with rational thought in a way that feels organic and realistic.
