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The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 23
🕑 Added 2025-01-12 16:59:01 +0000 UTCAN: As always, this is a commissioned work for an anonymous user.
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“What a load of absolute shite,” Astoria grumbled as she walked slowly ahead of Harry and Daphne down the corridors of Hogwarts. “Can you believe him? What sort of punishment is he even going to give those arseholes anyway?”
“Dumbledore knows what’s best,” Harry assured her, though he had niggling doubts about that himself. It didn’t feel fair that there would barely be any real punishment for those who’d attacked Astoria and Daphne, but he had doubts about his own judgement. While the lingering effects of his use of Dark Magic seemed to have faded, he still struggled to trust himself when it came to his anger.
“He knows the reality of things,” Daphne corrected him. “He was right in saying that they probably wouldn’t see any punishment by the Ministry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what punishment those tossers get anyways; word will get around about it. And if we need to add anything onto their punishment—”
“We won’t,” Harry interjected sharply. “Dumbledore made his decision, and I… I trust him.”
Daphne’s face softened a touch. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly.
Astoria blew out a mouthful of air. “I don’t think it’s okay.”
“We’ll see what happens from here,” Harry replied, trying to placate her. “If they keep escalating things, then we will too.”
“But will Dumbledore?” Astoria asked Harry accusatorially as she rounded on him. “Because he doesn’t seem keen on doing much to nip this in the bud.”
“He promised us that he’d handle it,” Harry reminded her, feeling himself getting heated about it. “And he even gave us a private room to stay in.”
Astoria shook her head at him in frustration. “It’s not enough. I remember when Professor… I mean Barty Crouch Jr attacked you. Daphne and I were in the Hospital Wing and protected you with our own lives on the line, and Dumbledore actually tried to get him punished, not that Minister Fudge would listen to him.”
“Which is exactly what would happen now if he brought those Slytherins before the Minister and the Wizengamot,” Harry snapped at her.
“Hey,” Daphne said as she stepped between them. “What’s done is done. You two need to cool off a bit. Why don’t we just go to our new rooms and rest up for the night?”
Astoria crossed her arms beneath her chest and turned on her heels. “Fine,” she said coldly as she started walking on ahead.
Harry went to follow her, but Daphne gently placed her hand on his chest to hold him back.
“Go easy on her,” she said softly. “She was really scared when we were getting attacked. Even if she’s acting like she’s fine now, I guarantee you that she’s not. She wants all of us to be safe, and she’s worried that the Slytherins are going to attack you next for how you embarrassed them today.”
Well, now Harry felt like an arsehole. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I just… don’t like it when anyone questions Dumbledore’s choices.”
“Why are you so dedicated to him?” Daphne asked with genuine curiosity.
“He’s always been there to offer guidance to me,” Harry answered instantly. Countless memories of Dumbledore giving him words of wisdom filled his time. “Through every trial I’ve faced here at Hogwarts, he’s helped me through them. He’s never done wrong by me.”
Daphne bit her lip, showing unusual hesitation in her next words.
“Wasn’t he the one who sent you to live with your awful relatives?” She asked him carefully.
Harry opened his mouth to answer her and then paused. He’d seen some of the letters that Dumbledore had sent his Aunt Petunia over the years, and it certainly seemed like he’d been the one in charge of Harry’s living situation, but Harry didn’t know for certain.
“I don’t know,” Harry answered honestly.
“Well, someone did,” Daphne continued. “And I only know of a handful of people who were powerful enough back then to be able to dictate where you of all people would live after your parents lost their lives.”
“Even if he did, it must’ve made sense in his head,” Harry argued back, understanding the underlying argument against Dumbledore’s judgement that Daphne was implying. “Why wouldn’t he send me to my closest family members?”
“That’s fair,” Daphne replied. “But why didn’t he check up on you and see the horrible conditions you were living in? You still haven’t even told me everything about your childhood, but what you have told me is terrible. No child should have had to go through what you did.”
“Maybe he was too busy,” Harry excused the man weakly.
“That’s not good enough,” Daphne told him softly, placing her hand on his arm. “All I’m saying is that maybe this is something to talk to him about. I know that Dumbledore is a great wizard, but he’s not perfect. I want you to think things through and make decisions for yourself rather than just following what Dumbledore tells you is right.”
That was… fair, albeit difficult for Harry’s mind to accept at the moment. Dumbledore was like the grandfather that Harry had never had. He was a brilliant man who looked out and cared for him, and that was that.
“I will,” Harry promised her.
“Good,” Daphne said before she leaned in and gave Harry a peck on the lips. “Now, let’s get to our new room.”
Their private room was located surprisingly close to the Prefect’s Bathroom. A large number of portraits stood down a long corridor, but one was ajar. When Harry and Daphne stepped through the threshold behind it, they were both taken aback by the surprisingly spacious room they found themselves in.
In a way, this sitting room reminded Harry of a scaled-down version of the Gryffindor Common Room. A warm fire flickered in a fireplace along the far wall right in between a pair of large windows that overlooked the Black Lake. A sofa and a few chairs sat before the fireplace, and then a large table with seating for eight sat along the right-most wall. The left wall had two doors, which were both opened as well.
“Astoria?” Daphne called out as she stepped ahead of Harry.
“In here!” Astoria replied from one of the connecting rooms.
Harry and Daphne followed her voice to a bedroom. A large four-poster bed sat against the back wall while a single desk and a wardrobe sat against the left wall. The right wall had an open doorway leading into what looked like a bathroom.
“I guess these rooms have two bedrooms in case the married couple is fighting,” Astoria said with some amusement as she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “There’s a bathroom that connects the two rooms though. It has a really nice shower and tub for us, but the counter space is a bit limited.”
“We’ll make it work,” Daphne said with a small smile. “Do you two mind if I have a bath? I’m in need of a bit of relaxation.”
“Go ahead,” Astoria replied quickly. “It’s all yours.”
“Thanks,” Daphne smiled. She gave her sister a hug and then dipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaving Harry and Astoria alone together.
The awkwardness set it almost instantly, but Harry felt a need to defend his choice.
“I trust Dumbledore,” he told Astoria with a sincerity that almost hurt.
“I know,” she replied, her voice nearly cracking as she did. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Harry asked her, genuinely curious.
Astoria let out a breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. “A lot of smart people have made choices that aren’t always right. I think that his choice tonight on how to handle Draco and the others wasn’t right,” she ended softly.
It took a lot out of Harry to admit this. “I don’t feel like you’re wrong,” he told her. “But I don’t know that my opinion is any more right than Dumbledore’s. I’m so angry about what those monsters tried to do to you and Daphne that I don’t feel like I can trust my own opinion. It feels too biased.”
“You have a good reason to be biased,” Astoria countered. “Anyone that attacks someone else like that deserves to be punished.”
“But I want to see them dead for what they tried to do to you and Daphne,” Harry emphasised. “But I know that a punishment like that probably isn’t right. Dumbledore’s old enough to have dealt with at least a few situations like this before. I think that he has a better insight than I do as to what is appropriate.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” Astoria asked him bluntly. “Dumbledore was never raised like a soldier like you have. It wasn’t until he was in his fifties that he was forced to fight against Grindelwald. He doesn’t know the burden of having to grow up knowing that so many people want to hurt you. He’s never been married; he doesn’t know the reality of having to protect the ones you love.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you saying that you want to marry me?”
Astoria scoffed, which quickly turned into a laugh. “That’s what you took out of this?”
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard you mention marriage,” Harry replied. “I guess I latched onto the word.”
Astoria smiled at him as she shook her head. “I can’t see myself being with anyone but you,” she admitted. “But we’re less than a year into our relationship. Maybe later, once we’re really sure about everything…”
“But the thought crossed your mind,” Harry continued, his own smile brightening.
Astoria rolled her eyes and giggled. “Yes, I’ve imagined our wedding.”
“Brilliant,” Harry laughed.
All arguments about Dumbledore were temporarily forgotten as Harry swept Astoria into his arms and kissed her soundly. Her lips felt so delicate against his touch, but she pulled back far too quickly for his liking.
“I just don’t want to see you being led astray by a man with good intentions,” Astoria murmured to Harry. “Being given a second chance to be better is all well and good, but it can be an incredibly risky gamble.”
“I know,” Harry agreed. “But even if you can’t put your faith in Dumbledore, and I want you to put your faith in me. If I ever once thought that Dumbledore was going to leave you and Daphne in a dangerous situation, there’s no way that I defend the man the way I have been. I’d march right up to his office and demand a change.”
“And if you didn’t get it?” Astoria asked softly.
“I’d take you and Daphne and leave Hogwarts behind for somewhere better,” Harry told her honestly.
Astoria’s smile told him that he’d given her the right answer.
“Good,” she said as she leaned in and kissed him again. “And if you ever want help knocking some sense into that old man’s head—”
“I know who to ask for,” Harry chuckled.
Their lips reconnected, and it only took a few moments before they were tumbling into bed together. Harry carefully took off Astoria’s robes, mindful of her injured shoulder as he went. Astoria, however, had no such care for his clothes and practically tore them off of his body and grabbed onto his rapidly-hardening cock with both of her hands. Harry groaned as she pumped his shaft a couple of times, but this wasn’t the time for him to selfishly find pleasure. He wanted to take care of her instead.
Harry gently pinned Astoria back down on the bed and pulled away from her delicious lips. He planted kisses on her breasts and belly as he slowly trailed his way down her body. Her wet pussy was waiting for him as he laid down between her thighs. With a long lick, Harry lapped up her juices that were leaking out of her.
Astoria sighed contently and really settled herself in for comfort as Harry’s tongue went to work on her. He knew exactly the way that she loved to be touched, and it was easy to fall into a rhythm that was both familiar and yet had several unexpected twists. Monotony was the death of passion, and Harry strove to always work on his technique to keep his lovemaking with Astoria exciting.
The feeling of her chest rising and falling on the bed as well as the subtle twitches of her body helped Harry to identify what was working best. Naturally, Astoria loved it when his tongue paid special attention to her clit. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to have her squirming beneath him.
“You’re so good at this,” Astoria moaned quietly. Her hands ran through his hair. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” Harry replied with a bright smile on his lips. His tongue went right back to her clit, and a single touch was enough to make her thighs suddenly clamp down on either side of his head.
“No,” Astoria whined. “It’s too soon. I want to cum with you inside of me.”
Harry chuckled as he wiped away the excess moisture from around his lips and peered up at her. “If that’s what you want.”
He crawled over top of her, and her hands lined up his cock with her waiting entrance easily. He teased her by pressing himself forward until the head of his cock was just barely parting her lower lips and then holding his position for a couple of seconds. It was only once he saw that adorable pout on her lips that he continued forward.
Astoria unleashed a feral moan as he entered inside of her. Those tight walls of her clung to his shaft wonderfully as Harry pushed all the way in. Once his cock was fully engulfed by her tight, hot pussy, he pulled his hips back and then pushed inside of her again.
He fucked her gentler than their normal lovemaking sessions went. With her on her back, Harry was able to keep a close eye on the bandage upon her shoulder. The last thing he wanted was for him to hurt her even more than she’d already been hurt today, but Astoria didn’t seem bothered by her injury in the slightest. Her arms were wrapped around him, her fingers slowly raking down his back.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harry groaned as he stared down at Astoria’s face.
Caught up in the throes of ecstasy, she managed to smile up at him and meet his gaze with her gorgeous brown eyes.
“I love you,” she told him. Her voice was like a melody he could get lost in.
Their bodies rocked against each other faster and faster as their intimate moment grew in intensity. Their lips reconnected in a passionate embrace as Harry’s cock filled Astoria’s pussy up again and again.
When Astoria finally plummeted over the edge, her walls became impossibly tight around Harry’s cock. The suddenness of it all was enough to allow him to relax and ride the pleasure too, letting his own orgasm fill up Astoria’s pussy with his seed.
They stayed in bed until the morning with Harry curled up behind her, his arms wrapped around her midsection. He knew that he’d do anything to keep his love safe.
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Were it not for his deepest desire to improve his skills, Harry would’ve seriously considered not attending Defence Against the Dark Arts today. Snape was a cruel, harsh taskmaster, but he clearly understood the subject exceptionally. Harry couldn’t imagine another professor he’d ever had proving such a competent duelling opponent.
But as Harry reached the corridor outside of the classroom with Daphne at his side, all of his thoughts about Snape faded when he laid eyes upon some of those Slytherins who’d attacked Astoria and Daphne. All of them avoided his gaze except for Draco. The blond-haired prat glared back at Harry with vengeance in his eyes. It was clear that whatever Dumbledore had said to Draco hadn’t gotten through to him.
Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that his issues with Draco weren’t over yet.
“Where were you last night, mate?” Ron asked Harry curiously as Harry and Daphne walked over to him. Hermione stood next to him and looked quite concerned too. “We were worried.”
“Sorry,” Harry said quietly to Ron and Hermione. “There was an incident.”
“A few of my fellow house-mates decided to attack Astoria and me,” Daphne informed the two of them calmly. “Harry dealt with them.”
“Are you three okay?” Hermione asked quickly, stepping forward to fuss over Harry and check for any injuries.
“We’re fine,” Daphne assured her.
“Was Malfoy behind it?” Ron practically snarled, staring down the man in question.
“His father was,” Harry replied bitterly. “He had the entire Slytherin Quidditch team and a couple of others hunt down Astoria and Daphne and confront them about dating me.”
“And Harry put them in their place for it,” Daphne smiled up at him.
He had, but it hadn’t been good enough. It never should have come to that in the first place. He needed to be stronger, to be able to put down fights like that in an instant, and he needed Astoria and Daphne to be able to protect themselves better. He wasn’t blaming them for being ambushed, but he just wanted to see them safe from any harm that could come their way.
“Good on ya,” Ron nodded approvingly at Harry. “If I was in your shoes, I don’t think they would’ve even been able to walk to class today.”
“I was tempted,” Harry admitted. “But Dumbledore told me that he’ll deal with the situation.”
“I’m sure he will,” Hermione smiled warmly at Harry. “He always knows what’s best.”
Harry nodded, but last night’s conversations with Astoria and Daphne had him doubting that a touch.
The door to the classroom suddenly flicked upon in an unusual manner. Typically, Snape wouldn’t open the door until his arrival, but he appeared to be delayed today.
After several others entered, Harry, Daphne, Ron, and Hermione trailed in. They found their seats and glanced back curiously towards the door to the classroom.
When Snape eventually strode into the classroom several minutes after class was meant to begin, everyone fell silent. His cloak swished about his legs as he marched all the way to the front of the classroom before turning around sharply and planting his hands on the lectern in front of him.
“We will be practising our protective shield spells today,” Snape informed the classroom. “Protego, Protego Duo, and Protego Maxima each offer their own unique benefits to counteract the Dark Arts. As the naming implies, the simple Protego can block the simplest of spells, while Protego Duo can counter more powerful ones. Protego Maxima is typically reserved for spells cast by exceedingly powerful opponents. Each one grows in difficulty to cast. I will expect all of you to manage Protego Duo by the end of the class. Now, pair up and get to practising.”
With his stern warning laid out, the desks all suddenly slid across to the nearest wall, leaving a wide-open space in the middle of the room for everyone to practice in. Naturally, Harry found himself standing across from Daphne.
There many months of training over the summer had found them at ease with practising spells with one another. Those nervous jitters and awkward concerns about potentially injuring a loved one had long since faded from memory. Now, they were ready to take each other on as equals.
Ron came to place next to Daphne, while Hermione stood at Harry’s left. The others in the class naturally found their spots within moments and drew their wands, ready for whatever was to come.
Snape paced back and forth along the head of the classroom with his hands clasped behind his back. “We will not be relegating ourselves to weak spells in this practice. You all have spent years learning spells that have the power to severely injure another. Duels and battles that take place throughout the world are rarely held to any strict code of conduct. Nevertheless, I will restrict you all from performing any lethal spells, but I do expect you to take this seriously. Those who are not shielding must use spells that are capable of performing some degree of harm. I would recommend the piercing hexes and cutting curses that you all have within your textbooks.”
A woman with mousy-brown hair and a personality to match raised her hand. “But couldn’t any of us be injured if we get hit by those spells, sir?” Megan Jones asked.
“Then you’d do well to perform those shield spells properly, Miss Jones,” Snape replied in his cold, dry voice. “And if I catch any of you holding back, you can expect to receive an additional essay, sixteen inches on the value of practising combat spells. Now, begin!”
After a second passed without anyone casting a spell, Snape clapped his hands together noisily.
“Get to it!” He snapped at the room.
A nervous Ravenclaw was the first to fire off her spell. The Hufflepuff opposite her blocked the spell by snapping his wand quickly, bringing up a shield in the nick of time to stop the Stunning Charm that’d been sent her way.
A murmur rose through the classroom at the sudden attack, but Snape still seemed furious.
“I told you to use dangerous spells, Miss Turpin!” Snape shouted. “If I catch you using anything sub-par again, you’ll find yourself in detention for a month! Do what you’re told; nothing more, nothing less.”
“Sorry,” Lisa Turpin murmured under her breath.
It didn’t take more than a second for another student to get underway with their attack. There was an immediacy in the air that dictated that everyone had to act quickly, lest they face punishment from Snape. Most of the Slytherins seemed relaxed about it, but the rest of the class seemed anxious.
Daphne was the first to send off a spell against him. A simple Protego spoken aloud was enough to block her Piercing Hex with little issue. The clashing sound against his shield was echoed by the dozens of other spells blocked by shields throughout the classroom. Then, Harry snapped off his rebuttal right back at her.
The world practically fell away as the two of them entered into something akin to a well-practised dance. Their movements and motions were familiar to each other from their training over the summer.
In a way, duelling with Daphne felt like flirting with her. Anytime he tried a little trick to surprise her, the corners of her lips would curl upwards in amusement and her eyes would glisten with mirth as she came up with her own creative counter. They were teetering on a knife’s edge of danger should either of them slip up and mistime their defences, but that was what made it so exciting. It took a certain degree of intimacy and trust to be able to duel like this without fear of a tragic mistake occurring.
Even Snape seemed to be impressed with their work. He was walking along the edges of the classroom, chastising any who failed to perform adequately and doling out more than his fair share of glares whenever someone’s spell went awry. Already, he had to pull two sets of partners from the exercise for failing to meet his criteria. But when he passed by behind Harry’s back, he said nothing. Not even a single critical remark on Harry’s form.
“Weasley!” Snape suddenly snapped loudly. “Your shield is as fragile as your ego is! Focus on your wand movements or you’ll soon find yourself on the receiving end of worse than mere words.”
Ron’s ears turned red, but he didn’t dare say anything back to the man who was staring him down.
The second that everyone in the room glanced towards Ron, Harry sensed something wrong was about to happen. There was a magical crack of energy reverberating through the air that left the hairs on his arms standing up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted what had caused such a reaction. Even though he tried to lower his wand back down quickly, Harry didn’t mistake the sight of Draco firing off a curse for anything else. The bolt of red light didn’t travel towards his partner, however. Instead, it was aimed right at Daphne’s head.
“Dap—!” Harry’s lips had barely begun to form the first syllable when Daphne’s head snapped round, having picked up on the same magical energy in the air that Harry had. Her eyes widened at the sight of the oncoming curse, but she reacted with instinctual precision.
“Protego Maxima!” Daphne shouted as she flicked her wand into place. A thick, shimmering shield of magical energy appeared in front of her just in time as Draco’s curse struck it.
Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on Daphne. A few clearly saw Draco cast the spell while others were looking around curiously. Daphne lowered her shield with her narrowed eyes glaring daggers at Draco.
Fire filled Harry’s belly at the cowardly attack on his girlfriend, but he’d barely taken a step out of line when he felt a powerful hand clasp his shoulder.
“Malfoy,” Snape said with a hint of venom in his voice, cutting through the silence that filled the room. “Watch where you’re pointing your wand. Another incident like this will not be tolerated. Is that understood?”
“Perfectly, sir,” Draco replied, almost sounding bored as he did so.
“Get back in line, Potter,” Snape muttered under his breath. He didn’t remove his hand from Harry’s shoulder until he did so.
The rest of the class passed as normal, but Harry couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that things between him and the Slytherins who’d attacked Daphne and Astoria weren’t finished yet. The fact that Draco had the gall to pull a stunt like this again merely cemented the fact that he was a dangerous enemy. It wasn’t that Draco was particularly skilled at magic or a dangerous duellist; the issue was that Draco was willing to flaunt the rules and brazenly attack anyone without any warning.
Harry needed to be more watchful. Never again would he allow his concentration to slip around Draco or his cronies.
When class ended, Harry hurriedly gathered his things into his bag before anyone else had the chance to leave. “I’ll meet up with you at lunch in a bit,” he whispered to Daphne as he stuffed the last few things into his bag. “I’ve got something to take care of first.”
“Just be careful,” Daphne whispered back, seeming to already know exactly what his plan was.
Out in the corridors, Harry’s Invisibility Cloak obscured him from sight. He watched and waited as the rest of the class funnelled out of the classroom and went about the rest of their day. Snape must have held Draco back for a private chat, because it took a few more minutes before he left the classroom.
Harry followed behind Draco, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible until they were a few corridors away from the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Then, Harry lunged forward and grabbed Draco from behind.
Draco thrashed against his invisible foe, throwing punches and kicks that missed as often as they hit. Harry took them all with a rage-filled fury and slammed Draco’s back against the wall before planting his forearm across Draco’s throat.
“Attack Daphne, Astoria, or anyone else I care for like that again and your precious father won’t be able to save you,” Harry told him seriously.
“Potter,” Draco scoffed, grabbing onto Harry’s invisible arm. “You’ve just threatened me—”
“I’m glad we’re clear on that,” Harry interjected. “Because I hope you know just how serious I am. Ask your father about what happened this past summer. I’ve learned that I have a bit of a talent for manipulating fire.”
There was a degree of recognition in Draco’s eyes that told Harry that he must have heard about the Fiendfyre incident in the graveyard.
“I won’t give you another warning,” Harry said dangerously. “Give up on trying to attack us. It won’t end well for you.”
Draco nearly sagged to the floor when Harry released him. Harry walked backwards slowly, keeping his eyes trained on Draco the entire time. When the blond prat stood back up, there was defiance in his eyes, not submission.
Harry needed to talk to Dumbledore again. Maybe he’d have some way of helping Harry get this message through Draco’s thick skull.
Comments
Cody
Wonderful chapter once more and my goodness Draco never learns does he? Well if he is going to mess around then he will certainly find out. Looking forward to the next update.
