The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 37 (Patreon)

When Harry awoke, the first thing he saw was Astoria’s face swaying above him. It felt as though they were on a boat on rocky shores with how much her face kept darting about, but as he gradually became more lucid, her face began to cement in place.

He reached up and touched the ring dangling from the gold-chain necklace she was wearing.

“You didn’t give it to him?” Harry croaked, his voice weak and throat sore.

Astoria smiled brilliantly and shook her head. “I would never,” she said before she leaned in and kissed him. It felt like a breath of fresh air as his lips met hers, the type of feeling one only felt when someone they loved embraced them so wholeheartedly. “Dumbledore wants the ring kept intact, but he can never have his hands on it. Not after what he tried to do back at the shack.”

“Good. Good,” Harry repeated, feeling the world sway around him.

Astoria loomed over him, looking deeply concerned. “Are you feeling alright? You slept for nearly a day,” she asked as she laid a hand across his forehead. Evidently, he didn’t have a fever, because she didn’t comment on it, but that did little to dissuade her worry.

“Not really,” Harry admitted. He coughed awkwardly, feeling phlegm creeping up his throat. “What happened? Dumbledore was here and then…”

“You convulsed,” Astoria answered, frowning. She bit her lower lip nervously. “I… you…” she shook her head to clear the thoughts that were disturbing her. “Everything felt wrong, and you just fell back in bed and started shaking. Sirius and I kept Dumbledore at bay while my mum and dad looked after you. They’re all downstairs right now with Daphne.”

Harry grimaced. He read about medical problems like this back in primary when he still went to a muggle school. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” he told Astoria sincerely. “Are you okay?”

“Now that you’re awake, yes,” she smiled again. “Daphne and I were both terrified, but we knew that you’d pull through. You’d never leave us alone in this world, would you?”

His heart begged him to answer in the affirmative, but his brain rejected that. Between Voldemort and his Death Eaters and whatever the hell was going on with him the past day or two, he truly didn’t know what would happen to him, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. And it shouldn’t stop Astoria and Daphne either.

“I’d never do that,” Harry half-lied, still unsure about the future.

Astoria seemed to find relief in his words. She let her body fall down and rest on his as she snuggled up close to him. “Good,” she murmured in his ear. “Because I couldn’t live without you.”

Panic shot through Harry’s chest. “Don’t you dare say that,” he nearly shouted as he sat up abruptly.

Astoria looked stunned as she scrambled on the bed. “I just meant that—”

“Don’t!” Harry interjected sharply. “Don’t ever talk about your death like that. If I die in this fight, you’d better go on living. I couldn’t stand it if you or Daphne died right after me. You two need to live long, happy lives. Understood?”

He cringed at him domineering words even before they were out of his mouth, but the essence of them still rang true in his heart. The thought of either of them dying was utterly unimaginable to him. Maybe once they were old and weary he could understand their passing, but before then, his heart would surely be torn asunder at the thought of anything happening before that.

“Okay,” Astoria replied quickly, trying to calm him. “Just lie back down Harry, we—”

But he was already getting up. He slid past Astoria on the bed, his heart racing and his breathing coming faster and faster. He grabbed at his robes and nearly fell to his knees as his world darkened. Then, he sucked in a breath and everything came back into sharp focus.

Astoria sat on the bed, staring at him with undisguised worry. He turned away from her and finished donning his robes, taking quiet breaths whenever he could. He patted the pocket where he still felt Dumbledore’s wand safely stowed.

Eventually, he turned back around. “I’m fine,” he lied to her. Even he could feel that things weren’t quite right. “Let’s go downstairs and get this over with. Dumbledore said that he had a plan for finding the other horcruxes. He might’ve been full of shite, or he could be telling the truth.”

Suddenly, a dark look overcame Astoria’s face. She seemed to grapple with it as her expression shifted from calm to angry to calm to angry to calm again in a matter of a couple of seconds.

“Yes, let’s,” she replied curtly.

Harry was struck by her sudden shift in demeanour, but he couldn’t decry her given how much he’d kept shifting these past couple of days. He felt like a different person sometimes, and if Astoria was struggling to deal with that, then he owed her some grace.

They steadily made their way downstairs, but while Harry expected to hear any noise, he found none. Astoria didn’t seem especially perturbed by this and continued to follow close behind him.

When they reached the main floor, the old gas lamps were barely giving off any light. They’d been left on the lowest setting, providing an eerie glow to the hallway. Harry’s nerves already felt frayed to their limits, but somehow this atmosphere added to them even more.

He drew his wand, but Astoria’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Everything’s fine,” she assured him sincerely. When he glanced back at her and their eyes met, she repeated her words. “Everything’s fine.”

Harry chewed on that idea for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Astoria, but when he’d seen Dumbledore about to put on that horcrux, he’d been utterly unrecognisable. Lust and the need for power had filled his eyes. That wasn’t Dumbledore.

And if he’d gone that far then, how could Harry trust that he wouldn’t try something drastic again?

“Harry!” Astoria snapped unusually sharply. She clutched the ring hanging from her neck, her face filled with annoyance. “Focus. I told you that everything’s fine. Either you trust me or you don’t, but I’m not going to play into your delusions any longer.”

She stormed past him, heading towards the closed doors leading into the dining room. Without knocking, she threw the doors open and rounded the corner out of view. All Harry could see was Sirius, a pink-haired lady, and an elderly man. Now that the doors were opened, Harry could hear a simmering buzz of noise coming from within as several people spoke quietly over each other.

Cautiously, Harry slowly made his way forward, keeping his wand in his hand but obscured from sight thanks to the long sleeves of his robes. As he drew closer, he found more people sitting around the long dining table. There were many unfamiliar faces, but a few jumped out at him.

“Harry!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed as she leapt to her feet.

Before he could react, she had her arms wrapped around him in a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you,” she told him as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“You too,” Harry replied dumbly, feeling completely caught off guard. When did all of these people arrive here? There were nearly two dozen of them inside of this room. Arthur was there, along with one of Ron’s older brothers. Fleur Delacour was sat beside him too! And then there were a string of unfamiliar faces before he saw Professor Lupin and Professor Moody…

Harry held back the urge to point his wand at the man. This was the real Moody, not the one who’d been disguised for months at Hogwarts, waiting to trap him.

At the far end of the table, Dumbledore cleared his throat. Professor Snape sat to his left, directly across from Daphne and Astoria. Daphne was looking worriedly at him, but Astoria wouldn’t so much as look in his general direction. Their parents were next to Snape, looking quite confused at Harry and Astoria’s odd introductions.

“Harry, welcome,” Dumbledore said gently.

Everything in his body was begging him to pull back and retreat to a safer place, but seeing Astoria and Daphne by Dumbledore’s side made him hesitate. He desired to keep them safe, even more than himself, and while he was still uncertain about Dumbledore’s behavior, he didn’t trust the man to be alone with the two women he loved.

Silently, Harry stalked down the dining room until he reached his lovers. An old woman sat next to Astoria, glancing up at Harry. While he stared at her, she practically ignored him and looked back at Dumbledore.

There were no chairs left for him but those at the far end of the table, but perhaps that was for the best. He could keep his wand at the ready in case he needed it.

“This is the Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore said to Harry before he glanced at Astoria. “Daphne has already been inducted as a member. Will the two of you join us as well?”

Before Astoria could reply, Harry spoke.

“I’ll only agree if you promise to leave the ring alone,” Harry told him bluntly. It was quite clear that everyone besides Daphne and Astoria were utterly unaware of what he was referencing, and no one bothered to inform them about it. “Whatever ritual you have in mind, you’ll teach to me, Astoria, and Daphne.”

Looks of confusion went up across the room, and people began whispering to each other, asking if they knew what Harry was on about. Evidently, Dumbledore was still keeping some things secret from others.

A look of pain shot across Dumbledore’s face, but he nodded regardless. “Of course,” he said quickly. “Anything you want.”

Good, that was good, but Harry still felt on edge. Was Dumbledore trying to trick him in some way? Was there a benefit to keeping the ring away from him?

These were questions that would take too long to analyse. Whatever Harry came up with was bound to be challenged by whatever Dumbledore answered with. The old man was intelligent and clever. Even if Harry asked the right questions, that didn’t necessarily mean that he’d receive an appropriate response.

His suspicion filled his body, but Dumbledore carried on as though he hadn’t noticed anything amiss with him.

“And you, Astoria?” He asked.

Astoria gave a curt nod and left it at that. Harry frowned at her in worry. It was rare that he ever saw her especially moody like this. Normally, when she was angry, she’d let people hear what she had to say, but this silent fuming wasn’t like her.

“Then I would like to welcome you both as the newest members of the Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore said grandly, and a round of applause went up from the other members. “And I believe a chair is in order for our newest member. Severus, if you would be so kind.”

Snape drew his wand and magically elongated the table as Dumbledore took a couple steps backwards so that he wouldn’t be knocked over. Then, he conjured a chair identical to all of the others for Harry to sit down in. It was next to Daphne, directly on Dumbledore’s right.

Harry moved slowly as he sat, trying to keep his wand from appearing as he trained it at Dumbledore underneath the table.

“We were just in the middle of discussing updates about everyone’s assignments,” Dumbledore informed Harry and Astoria. He gestured to a tall, dark-skinned man. “Kingsley, why don’t you continue please.”

“Of course,” Kingsley nodded. “As I was saying, the Auror Department is in a state of crisis. Minister Malfoy has assigned Thorfinn Rowle as the latest head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after Director Bones’ untimely death. He’s been a suspected pure-blood supremacist for years now, so we can only assume that he is or always has been a Death Eater.

“Rowle has been limiting Auror resources and redirecting them towards a new division of Hit Witches and Wizards, whom I believe to be primarily made up by Death Eaters, sympathisers, and opportunists who see this as a chance to get in good with the new regime. We’ve already lost nearly a fifth of our staff to this new division, and our budget has been slashed to the point that we can’t afford to pay anyone overtime. It’s leaving gaps in Britain’s security, and the Wizengamot is letting it happen.”

“It’s not so simple as that,” an old man at the table interrupted. He had wispy white hair around the crown of his head and an old face. “Some of us on the Wizengamot have been trying to fight back, but Malfoy has been making things difficult for all of us. He’s blackmailed a few and bought out others and—”

“Thank you, Elphias,” Dumbledore interjected gently, trying to soothe the man’s inflaming passions. “We all know that you’re trying your hardest to do what’s right. None of this is easy for any of us. And thank you, Kingsley, for the update. We may wish to begin organising our own patrols throughout Britain in case the Death Eaters begin to cause chaos publicly. If you trust any of your fellow Aurors to join our cause, then begin speaking to them about your concerns. That goes for you as well, Nymphadora.”

The pink-haired woman nodded, though she narrowed her eyes at Dumbledore. “It’s Tonks,” she corrected him, and her hair colour shifted from pink to red in an instant. Harry had never seen anything like that before.

“Of course,” Dumbledore smiled. “Between the two of you, I’m certain that we’ll be able to bolster our numbers. Now, Arthur, do you have anything to add about the goings-on in the Ministry?”

“No,” Mr Weasley shook his head. “The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office is officially still on hold pending review. Naturally, the Minister’s Office has yet to offer a timeline for this review or even who will be chairing it. Without us being able to do our jobs, the stall tactics are beginning to make some of our junior workers nervous. I’ve already had three resignations, and they all specifically mentioned that they didn’t feel like there was a future in our office.”

“Such a shame,” Dumbledore grimaced sympathetically. “Again, if any of them seem to be of our way of thinking, do tentatively reach out to them. Now, Severus, do you have any useful information for us?”

“Little and less,” Snape answered. “It appears as though the Dark Lord’s suspicions of me have only grown since the holiday break. I’ve been excluded from important meetings and left on the fringes. Without anything concrete to give him…”

“Then he will continue to displace you for others he trusts more,” Dumbledore finished for him. “Continue trying to break back into his inner circle, if you could.”

Snape gave a sharp nod and then turned away, looking disinterested with the entire affair.

“Then, for our final matter, I wish to reassure you all that matters at Hogwarts continue to operate as normal,” Dumbledore told everyone gladly. “Our students, who remain free to leave at any time, have continued in their coursework and managed to operate as though the dangers outside of our institution do not exist.”

“Why are you keeping things from them?” Harry asked bluntly, causing quite a stir in the room. Clearly, it was rare for anyone to interrupt Dumbledore.

Dumbledore didn’t seem bothered by the interruption though. “I have kept nothing from them,” he answered openly. “They hear plenty from letters from home and the newspapers that are ordered to Hogwarts.”

“But are you preparing them for what they might face once the school year is done?”

The silence was all the answer he needed.

“Students shouldn’t have to fight,” someone spoke up from further back in the room.

“Most of them are adults,” Harry retorted sharply. “They should be ready to fight for what matters.”

“That is their choice to make,” Dumbledore pointed out. “We have provided additional, optional instruction on the weekends for those who wish to hone their magical abilities, but we cannot force students to take part in extracurricular activities.”

“What about in their classes?” Harry replied, glancing over at Snape. “Are they preparing them to fight for their lives?”

Snape opened his mouth, but Dumbledore spoke first. “We have made adjustments to the curriculum, but we cannot solely prepare our students for battle. They deserve breaks and relaxation, ways in which they can express their magic in light-hearted, creative ways. And they must also be prepared for what is required for them in their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s and their professions beyond Hogwarts.”

It wasn’t enough. Harry felt like once again, the burden of dealing with Voldemort and his Death Eaters was being forced onto his shoulders. The Order of the Phoenix was smaller than an entire year of students at Hogwarts. If even half of them were trained and willing to fight against Voldemort, then the Order’s numbers would be bolstered significantly.

But Dumbledore didn’t want that for anyone. All he seemed to want was to try his best by asking politely and seeing how few people would be willing to join his Order while Harry was forced to fend for his life against witches and wizards with decades more experience than he did.

Frustrated, Harry turned away from Dumbledore.

The old wizard soon finished the meeting. Harry felt looks upon him the entire time. Some were curious, a few looked annoyed, and the rest seemed sympathetic to his frustrations. But none of them offered a tangible solution. Voldemort might still have other horcruxes out there, and Harry either needed to track them down or rely upon Dumbledore’s supposed ritual to find the rest.

Once the meeting ended, everyone said their thanks and started to their feet. A few people began chatting as they made their way out of the room while others simply hurried to the fireplace to floo out before it became too congested.

“Harry?” Dumbledore called out as almost everyone was out of the room. “A word?”

Glancing at his partners, Astoria was at least willing to look his way but had a severe frown on her face. Daphne didn’t seem to know what was up with her either, but she at least stepped forward to Harry’s side.

“Do you want me to stay?” She murmured in his ear.

Harry nodded. If Dumbledore tried anything, he wanted a witness. Besides, Daphne was no slouch in combat either. All of their training had done her quite a bit of good.

“I’ll be upstairs,” Astoria told them curtly before she quickly left with everyone else.

Daphne’s eyes met his, and he read the implied question within her look: Did you do something to piss her off?

Harry shrugged. He supposed he did, but her reaction seemed unusually disproportionate.

Maybe it was just the culmination of everything. He had been snapping at people too much recently, and Astoria had been taking a fair bit of the brunt of it. Merlin, he should’ve apologised to her from the very first moment he started losing control.

He tried to look back for her, but everyone was already gone. Someone closed the door, and then it was just the three of them together.

Dumbledore tried to smile at the two of them, but Harry could tell just how forced it was. “This is a rather delicate matter, so I appreciate your discretion. I believe that you still have the wand you took from me, Harry.”

Indeed he did. Harry’s free hand instinctively reached up to touch it, but he hesitated at the last second.

“I’m not asking for it back,” Dumbledore told him. “I have my first wand at my side now. What I’d actually like you to do is draw my old wand and give it a wave.”

A look of confusion swept across Harry’s face. “Why?” He asked.

“A theory,” Dumbledore replied cryptically. “Or a test of sorts, if you’d prefer. I’m merely looking to confirm something. If you would, please.”

Although Harry was still somewhat on edge around the man, he did as he was asked. He drew Dumbledore’s wand and stowed his own. It felt odd holding the old wizard’s wand in his hand. The wand itself was especially long and felt uncomfortable to wield, but there was something within it, a sensation that resembled the warm feeling that he had when he used his own wand without being warm at all. It was cold without being cold, dangerous without any fear for his own life.

While the wand felt awkward in his hand, it swished through the air smoothly. With a simple flick, Harry levitated a chair from its place.

The second it settled back down on the floor, Dumbledore let out a shuddering breath.

“So, it’s truly yours now. I’d expected as much, but I’d never thought…” Dumbledore gave a small shake of his head. “No matter. It’s your responsibility now.”

“My responsibility?” Harry raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“The wand is yours now,” Dumbledore told him with such gravity that Harry felt like he was being given both a great boon and a death sentence. “Treat it well.”

“Why would your wand be mine?” Harry asked.

“It’s yours now, not mine,” Dumbledore corrected him. “That wand is especially temperamental; it will only belong to the one who has most recently won it from their opponent. By rendering me unconscious in the Gaunt Shack, the wand slipped from my hands and thus became yours.”

“But that isn’t how wands work,” Daphne suddenly argued. “Even if Harry won its allegiance, it should still remember you. You could use it and—”

“Not with this wand, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore smiled sadly. “The Elder Wand has but one master.”

Daphne scoffed but quickly looked back at Dumbledore as he maintained his sincerity. Harry was left utterly confused.

“The Elder Wand?” He repeated aloud.

“A children’s story,” Daphne answered quickly. “It’s one of the three Deathly Hallows, gifts created by Death himself. It was given to the Peverell brothers after they outsmarted Death.”

“Five points to Slytherin,” Dumbledore joked.

Daphne raised a critical eyebrow at him. “Do you truly want us to believe that this is the Elder Wand?”

“What you do or do not believe is your own prerogative,” Dumbledore answered. “I am merely telling you what I know to be true. The Elder Wand has been hunted for for generations, and I have no doubt that Voldemort is after the wand.”

“If it really is the Elder Wand, then who did you get it from?” Daphne questioned him.

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

The previous Dark Lord? The one that Dumbledore had fought decades ago in their legendary duel?

Harry raised the wand up into the light. It looked like any other wand. The sensations were different, he’d grant that, but he couldn’t speak to how any other wand felt. Maybe these were normal sensations to experience, but something within him doubted it. This wand was unusual, unique.

“What does this mean for me?” Harry asked Dumbledore.

“It means that Voldemort will want to kill you more than before.”

Harry snorted. How much more could Voldemort want to kill him? The man seemed obsessed with killing Harry as quickly as he could.

“There will be others too,” Dumbledore added. “Those following the legend of the hallows. They will come for you, and most will not behave honourably. You will be hunted for the rest of your life, so long as this wand is in your possession.”

“I’ve never known anything different,” Harry replied bluntly. Even when he was living in the muggle world with his relatives, ‘Harry Hunting’ had been his cousin’s favourite game. He had never been truly safe. Never known a life without danger.

“I know,” Dumbledore replied sombrely. “But the true danger doesn’t lie from without; it is the arrogance and the power that the wand offers that is truly dangerous. This wand is capable of feats of magic that none other can replicate. Even the most powerful, skilled wizard of all time could not best a lesser, competent wizard armed with this wand. Magic will flow more easily for you, your spells will be more powerful, and your very will can be enacted by the magic you channel. You must be gravely careful in how you use this wand. The aftereffects of your spells will be far greater than you can even begin to imagine.”

Harry wasn’t sure about that; he could imagine quite a bit happening. As much as he wanted to take Dumbledore’s warnings seriously, one thought dominated his mind.

“Won’t this wand be useful to me in defeating Voldemort?” He asked.

“It could be. Or it could prove to be your downfall. The wand is not to be wielded lightly, and you would not be the first talented wizard to be seduced by its abilities and fall prey to your own hubris.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied blandly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

His sarcasm was not lost on Dumbledore, but the old man chose not to comment on it.

“I have also finished the final preparations for the ritual to uncover the other horcruxes,” Dumbledore told Harry and Daphne. “I will deliver the notes to you as soon as the final calculations are completed. I want to review the arithmancy one more time before I confirm the ritual’s safety.”

Harry decided that he needed to find someone competent enough in arithmancy to double check Dumbledore’s work before he dared use the ritual.

“Thank you,” Harry replied curtly as he grabbed Daphne’s hand. He started pulling her away to the exit. “We’ll be waiting for your ritual.”