The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 38 (Patreon)

Harry ran his fingers over the knobs of the Elder Wand, feeling as they grew smaller and smaller as the wand narrowed to its blunted tip. It felt normal, like the comfortable feeling he had after wielding his own wand for years. Imagining this as some powerful, semi-mythical artefact seemed ludicrous to him, but Dumbledore had been completely serious when he cautioned Harry about the wand’s power.

Was this another example of Dumbledore being too timid for his own good? Or did his words have some truth to them?

For all that Dumbledore had failed him in the past year, Harry still remembered the wise advice that the old wizard had given to him during his earlier years at Hogwarts. He’d given Harry back his invisibility cloak and guided him away from the trappings of the Mirror of Erised, he’d delivered words of wisdom when Harry needed them most after destroying Tom Riddle’s Diary, and he’d given Hermione the hint she needed to know that she and Harry had to travel back in time to save Sirius and Buckbeak.

But if using this wand could help Harry defeat Voldemort, then Dumbledore should have offered to prepare Harry for its power rather than cautioning against using it. This felt like another Draco situation all over again where Dumbledore was telling Harry to wait until a dire situation was forced upon him.

He couldn’t let that happen again. If this wand offered him power, then he needed to learn to wield it. And if it was as dangerous as Dumbledore suggested it was, then what better place to practice it than in the safety of Grimmauld Place?

A sharp knock at his bedroom door broke him from his reverie.

“Come in,” Harry called out.

Daphne slipped inside and closed the door behind herself. She had her blond hair up in a loose ponytail to keep the strands away from her face, which was marked with dark smudges of powder. She looked adorable.

“Albus and I just finished setting up the ritual circle,” Daphne told him. “He’s just waiting for you now before he activates it.”

“Is Astoria there too? She shouldn’t miss this,” Harry replied despite knowing how distant Astoria had been the past few days.

“She’s just finishing up planning a list of things we’re having some of the Auror members pick up for us,” Daphne answered. “We need supplies. Things like potions in case we get injured in a fight, some new robes, and any other odds and ends we might need.”

“Smart,” Harry said as he stowed the Elder Wand within his robes and stood up. “Should we get going then?”

“Yeah, we should.” But instead of going to the door, Daphne stepped closer to him, and for the first time today, he saw just how much concern was in her eyes. “Dumbledore warned us that this ritual will be hard on you. I don’t want to see you passing out or convulsing on the ground again. It’s been hard enough dealing with the times I’ve already seen it happen. If the ritual gets to be too much, then you need to stop it.”

Oh how he wished he could promise her that.

He and Daphne had spent the past few days talking a bit more about what’s been happening to him, and the only connecting factor between his episodes was Voldemort. Whether it was dealing with his horcrux or visiting a place he’d once frequented, Harry kept having these strange reactions that were only growing in intensity. None of them could explain why this was happening, and no one else had much insight to offer either. Dumbledore was the only one they hadn’t asked yet since he was busy finalising the ritual.

When Dumbledore had explained the ritual to them, it’d made a lot of sense. While the ring was the focal point for everything, Harry was going to be the one to channel the magic into himself to see where the other horcruxes were. His scar was a mark left behind by Voldemort, and Dumbledore believed that the inherent connection it created with Voldemort would offer him the strongest visions.

If Harry had to suffer through anything else short of death, he would. Until they uncovered the remaining horcruxes, Voldemort was effectively immortal.

“I promise I won’t let it go too far,” Harry assured her.

Daphne’s perceptive eyes searched his for a moment, and then she sighed. “Do you know what it does to Astoria and I to see you like this?”

Harry cringed slightly at that. “I can’t imagine it’s easy.”

“It’s a hell of a lot worse than that,” Daphne replied sombrely. “It’s never easy seeing someone you love in pain or suddenly pass out or spasm uncontrollably on the ground. But you make it even harder on us by never taking a break. You just keep pushing and pushing yourself to your limits, and these episodes only seem to be getting worse.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Daphne?” Harry asked without any harshness in his tone. “Voldemort needs to be defeated, and until he is, we won’t be able to live a normal life together.”

“What worries me most is that you won’t be alive at the end of it all,” Daphne said sincerely. “That you’ll push yourself until your body gives out or you’ll sacrifice yourself just to end things with Voldemort.”

Would he make that trade? His life for Voldemort’s.

Maybe once upon he would’ve, when it was just him. Now though, he had a family.

“I wouldn’t do that to you and Astoria,” Harry promised her.

Daphne nodded like she’d expected that answer, but that reaction brought a frown to his face. Did she not believe him?

“Okay,” Daphne said softly before turning quickly and heading for the door. “Come on, let’s head downstairs and do the ritual.”

“Daphne,” Harry called after her. She opened the door and went to step out but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. “I’m serious. I promise you that I’ll be more careful going forward. If you or Astoria tell me to stop or take a break, then I will.”

For several seconds, Daphne was silent until she finally let out the breath she’d been holding in. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Harry let go of her, and Daphne instantly spun around and wrapped him up in a tight hug. His heart melted as he hugged her back tightly.

After a few moments, they made their way downstairs to the ground floor. It was quiet here now that the Order of the Phoenix had left. Their members were constantly popping in and out of Grimmauld Place, using it as the home base it was intended as. The dining room always had notes being left for other members or updates for Dumbledore. But Dumbledore deliberately kept everyone out today so that nothing could interfere with the ritual.

A small staircase led them down to the basement where the kitchen was. Kreacher was already there working on tonight’s supper, and he turned and gave Harry and Daphne a low bow as they passed towards an open doorway that led down a long corridor.

It shouldn’t have surprised Harry that if Hogwarts had dungeons, so too would Grimmauld Place. However, the dungeons here were far darker. Sirius had told Harry about how much torture paraphernalia they had to remove from the rooms down here and that there were still a few odd blood stains that refused to leave the stone they stained regardless of how much effort they put in.

But there was one room halfway down the corridor that’d been nicely cleared. It was a small brick room with smooth stone floors and absolutely nothing left within it when Dumbledore set to work. Now, as Harry and Daphne stepped inside, they saw candles floating above their heads and a large chalk circle on the floor.

To call it a chalk circle was to do it a disservice though. This was an intricately designed pattern of three interweaving circles that nearly overlapped with one another, forming a single larger circle with edges that looked like rolling waves. Runes were sketched in the gaps between the three circles, most of which Harry couldn’t recognise, but nothing sat within the centre of the interweaving circles. A single line, drawn to point to the west according to Dumbledore, stretched out from the circle to a much smaller single circle that was barely large enough for someone to stand in.

Dumbledore stood within, looking proudly upon his work. There wasn’t a single stroke of chalk that looked out of place; it was beyond intricate. Astoria was at his side, clutching the horcrux ring that hung around her neck.

“Hey,” Harry smiled at Astoria.

She looked up at him, her expression soft, and then it hardened suddenly and she turned away from him.

Harry tried to hide his grimace. She’d been seemingly angry with him for days now, ever since that first meeting with the Order of the Phoenix. There were moments where she seemed like her usual self, and then she’d suddenly turn furious with him over the smallest thing. Even Daphne had noticed and tried to talk to Astoria about it, but if she made any progress, Harry hadn’t heard about it.

“Excellent timing,” Dumbledore smiled at them. “I was just about to go over the ritual again with Astoria here.”

“I know how it works,” Astoria muttered petulantly.

“Still, I wish to go over it one more time to ensure that we all understand what will happen,” Dumbledore said, not bothered by Astoria’s mood in the slightest. “If you would close the door behind you, please. We must be sure to limit any outside magical interference.”

Harry did so and carefully stepped to the side so that he didn’t accidentally scuff up the ritual circle.

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “Now, as we previously discussed, Harry will be our focus. You will be standing in this circle here.” He gestured to the smaller circle connected to the three interweaving ones. “I will be the primary caster of the ritual. A simple tap of the wand will provide a flow of magic that will illuminate the circle and all of the runes within. You’ll all see a bright glow, but I must remind you Harry to try not to move or close your eyes. The glow will fade momentarily, and then you will see visions of the places where the remaining horcruxes are. It will be quite disorienting, but I believe that your scar makes you our best candidate. All dark magic leaves behind traces, and it may be the sign of a connection between you and Voldemort.”

“A connection?” Harry frowned. Could this be why he’d been reacting so strongly to places that Voldemort had been recently?

As if reading his mind, Dumbledore gave a slight dip of his chin. “Dark magic always leaves behind a mark, and the Killing Curse is a singularly unique piece of dark magic. I believe it may be the cause of your episodes as of late. However, let us focus on the task at hand. As you witness these visions, you must describe them aloud in as much detail as possible. I fear that it will be impossible to view these as a memory through a pensieve or by any other means.”

“I’ve got the parchment, quills, and ink here with me,” Daphne added as she reached within her robes and pulled out these miniature versions of each of the listed items. She placed them on the ground and then, with a swift flick of her wand, returned them to their normal sizes. A swish had all of it floating up in the air with the quills ready to write down anything that Harry said.

“Once we begin, if you need to end the ritual at any point, you merely need to step outside of the circle,” Dumbledore told Harry. “We can always try again another time if this ritual fails. However, if you are fine to proceed through it all, you must make sure that you do not step outside of the circle. The rest of your body may leave it, but the soles of your feet must remain on the ground within the circle at all times. Understood?”

“Yes, Albus,” Harry replied.

“Good, then take off your socks and shoes and get into position,” Dumbledore told him. “Astoria, Daphne, the two of you should stand on opposite sides of Harry in case the ritual disorients him too much and he falls over. I’ll be in place to put the ring in position.”

“I’d feel more comfortable if I was the one to put the ring in position,” Astoria told Dumbledore plainly.

Dumbledore’s smile seemed more forced this time. “Of course. By all means then. Just be careful of where you step.”

Astoria was certainly careful as she stepped within the interweaving circles. She was still clutching the ring around her neck as she crouched down, ready to take it off. But as several seconds passed without any movement on her part, Daphne cleared her throat.

“Are you alright, Astoria?” She asked her sister.

“Fine,” Astoria replied through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I had feared that this might happen. Horcuxes are evil creations, and being in proximity to anything related to dark magic can negatively influence one’s thoughts and feelings. Astoria, you must remove the ring right now.”

“I will.”

And yet she didn’t.

“Shut up,” Astoria hissed at no one as she tugged at the ring.

Daphne stepped closer to the edge of the circle. “Let me help you,” she suggested gently.

“Stay out of this!” Astoria raged suddenly, glaring up at her sister like she was her worst enemy.

“Astoria,” Harry said softly, his heart burning in pain. She’d been wearing that horcrux around her neck for days now. Had she been suffering all this time?

Suddenly, Astoria cried out as she ripped the chain from her neck. It split down the back, and the ring came tumbling out of her hand, landing perfectly in place in the centre of the interweaving rings. Astoria wasted no time in leaping out of the circle. Slamming her back against the wall, she sagged down to the floor, panting for breath.

Daphne was over at her side in an instant. “Are you okay?” She whispered in her sister’s ear, holding her tightly.

Harry wanted to be over by her side too, but given how the past few days had been, he didn’t know if his presence would help or hinder the situation. But then Astoria looked up at him with watery eyes, and he darted over to her before he even realised his feet were moving. He hugged Astoria so tightly that he feared that he was going to hurt her, but she didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured into his robes.

“It’s okay,” he repeated again and again for the next few minutes until Astoria stopped shaking in his arms.

When he pulled away, she looked utterly exhausted. Tear tracks ran down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. Daphne was still clinging to her tightly.

“Why don’t you head upstairs and lie down,” Daphne suggested. “The ritual won’t take long.”

“No,” Astoria shook her head slowly. “I need to be here for this.”

Daphne looked ready to argue the issue but swallowed whatever comment she said in place of a nod. “Okay. But just stay down and rest. I’ll watch over Harry.”

Astoria looked up at him then. “I’m so sorry for being so angry with you. I don’t—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry assured her. “We’ll talk about it more later, okay?”

“Okay,” Astoria nodded.

Giving her a comforting smile, Harry stepped back into his smaller circle. Daphne whispered one last thing into Astoria’s ear before she too stood up and approached Harry, keeping a moderate distance between herself and the circle. There was worry in her eyes as he got situated, but Harry had made her a promise. If anything got to be too much, he’d end things right away.

Dumbledore gave them all a couple extra moments before he drew his wand. It felt quite odd to see him without the Elder Wand in his hand. Instead of the knobby, pale wand that Harry now had in his possession, Dumbledore’s wand was long and thin and made up of a dark wood. It was twisted near the base and had some type of silver handle attached to it, but Dumbledore seemed quite comfortable in wielding it as he gave two long sweeps through the air.

“We have only a minute before the ritual needs to begin. Otherwise we’ll need to wait for a few more days,” Dumbledore told Harry and Daphne.

“I’m ready,” Harry replied.

“So am I,” Daphne added.

Astoria only gave the slightest grunt as she crossed her arms around her knees and peered over top of her arms.

“Well then, prepare yourself,” Dumbledore warned Harry.

A golden light illuminated the tip of Dumbledore’s wand as he weaved it through the air in a complicated pattern. Harry followed it for all of two seconds before the movement shifted forms dramatically and the golden light engulfed everything within sight.

It was a blinding, disorienting experience just as Dumbledore had promised, but Harry withstood it all. His eyes watered painfully, but he kept them open through sheer force of will. When the light began to die down, he was then struck by another blinding light as the rune circle in front of him exploded in a myriad of colours.

One after the other, the rune circle shifted through the colours of the rainbow and even more beyond that. Shade after shade swarmed his vision until they gradually began to darken.

Eventually, the white chalk turned into the darkest black. It began slowly, like multiple lines of magnesium steadily burning down in sequence, all headed towards Harry’s circle.

The horcrux ring began to shake violently in the centre of the interweaving rings as the chalk ring around Harry turned black. Then, his vision followed suit.

Harry tried to blink his eyes to banish the imperious darkness surrounding him, but he couldn’t move at all. His body was frozen still, incapable of altering in the slightest. Then, in the infinite blackness, he spotted something distant. It was dark like his surroundings, but as it grew closer to his face, he saw hints of light beginning to brighten the scene.

Suddenly, it felt like he was entering into a pensieve as his body was thrown into a scene from a memory. He was sitting high up on a shelf, overlooking an incredible chamber filled with gold and silver and jewels of all kings. Goblets and statues were strewn about in neat piles on the floor. The chamber was a natural cave formed out of stone, and in the distance, there was a massive door with an odd design.

“It’s Gringotts!” Harry exclaimed, though he did not speak in this vision. His voice came out hollow and even, like it did in the faint remembrance of a dream moments after waking up. “Jewels and gold! Lots of it!”

He blabbered on, describing the stalactites that hung from the ceiling and the images upon paintings that were hung from the walls. It felt like something had taken over his body and was forcing him to describe anything that he witnessed in this vision. The words came one after the other involuntarily, not that Harry wanted them to stop.

Then, as he was in the midst of describing the flowery patterns on a goblet, the chamber began to fade from his vision. Blackness pulsed in front of his eyes again and again until he reentered the darkness.

Another sight came rushing towards him. He found himself in an enormous room that seemed even larger than the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Strangely enough, the walls resembled those that he saw at Hogwarts, but what truly dominated his vision were the unbelievable piles of stuff that sat in every direction he looked around. It was as though thousands of people had deposited old and unwanted goods here and just left them behind to collect dust. Harry kept searching around for anything particularly recognisable, but beyond the walls, he didn’t see much.

So, he just started blathering on about the ancient books whose covers looked to be made out of real leather, the busted-up old cabinets that still held racks of old robes, and the large pile of wands that sat within a large brass tub.

When the darkness returned, Harry was far more prepared for it. His body relaxed, and he allowed himself to be taken somewhere else.

This time, he was definitely in a manor home. He repeated as much, describing the dark, rich wood panelling on the walls and the smooth marble flooring. He specifically called out the enormous painting of a vast, verdant field with a single wizard standing upon it with slicked-back platinum-blond hair and a cane in hand.

But as he was describing everything, his vision suddenly shifted. Instead of looking around as he had been able to in the previous couple visions, this time, he felt like he was actually moving.

His vision swam as his eyes steadily moved forward, swooping from side to side. He was moving along the marble floor in search of something… but what?

The world twisted as he spun about sharply, and then Harry sucked in a deep breath.

Stood in dark robes amid a group of men and women stood Voldemort himself. His pale-white skin and snake-like face brought hate to Harry’s very being. The Dark Lord stood before everyone, addressing them, but Harry’s vision twisted again.

Quickly, he began relaying everything aloud. His voice seemed to be growing more and more faint.

Then, as his vision bounced slightly, he found himself staring in a mirror. His tongue slithered out of his mouth and those gorgeous green scales of his shone in the candlelight.

“Albus! We need to stop this!” He heard someone scream distantly.

But his vision turned black again, and then he found himself staring up at himself. His vision was bouncing on the floor violently, but his body stood up perfectly straight except for the endless tremble that was running through him. It looked like there was a weak earthquake shaking his body faintly. Daphne was by his side, desperate to reach in and yank him out of the ritual circle but hesitating to do so.

Then, Harry’s mouth opened.

“I’m here!” He exclaimed. “I see myself! And Daphne!”

There was no emotion in his voice; it was a mere statement of facts. Daphne looked painfully unnerved at hearing that tone leave his mouth.

“End it!” Daphne cried out, but Harry only faintly heard her voice. It echoed in the distance, as though screamed from a thousand kilometres away.

End it? He couldn’t do that. He’d only seen three places. Surely there were bound to be more!

And just as he thought that, the darkness returned again. It was almost comforting, feeling the world slowly fade from his vision… from existence. He was back to that inky blackness for a blissful moment before he saw a distant light begin to grow again.

When the new vision filled his sight, Harry was confused. He was in the ritual room just as before. The only difference was that he was staring out of his own eyes, but he clearly wasn’t back in his right state. He could see Dumbledore watching him with worry and the ring bouncing wildly on the floor and Astoria sat curled up against the wall, but he couldn’t move.

Panic quickly set in. Had the ritual gone wrong? He was trapped in his own body, incapable of moving.

“I’m back here again,” Harry spoke aloud. His voice still sounded distant. “I can see us all and—”

Suddenly, the black chalk of the ritual circle began to steadily turn white again. It started as a trickle before the floor came, and before Harry could truly recognise what was happening, his vision went white all over again as the ritual circle erupted.

The next thing he remembered was his body thrashing about on the floor violently. His back was arched off of the stone before it suddenly slammed back down. Every one of his limbs were spasming, smacking against anything within reach.

“Harry!” Daphne screamed as she leaned over his body.

All he could do was smile as he shook uncontrollably.