The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 26

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

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The smoke in the Potions’ Classroom filled Harry’s lungs with an uncomfortable burning sensation that reminded him far too much of the Hungarian Horntail. He could only imagine what that creature felt when that ball of flame fired out of its mouth. Did it suffer from the same pain in its chest too? Did it suffer from the same anger that plagued Harry now? Or was that release of fire what it needed to do to find relief from what ailed it?

“And remember to begin preparing your Clabbert pustules,” Lucius Malfoy drawled at the front of the classroom. He was lounging back in his seat, a Bubble-Head Charm protecting him from the painful fumes, like he didn’t have a single care in the world. His cane was leaned up against the desk next to him, the snake’s mouth biting into the wood. “I’d hate to send any of you to the Hospital Wing and give you a failing grade for the day.”

On the contrary, Harry doubted that there was little more that the man would like to do, especially to a Gryffindor.

In the weeks since Astoria and Daphne’s attack at the hands of the other Slytherins, Harry had kept a close eye on Lucius. If he had any remorse for his actions, none showed upon his face. He often kept to himself, as though he were above the students and even his colleagues, instead choosing to take his meals in his rooms. The rare moments he roamed the halls, he did so with a purpose. And Harry strove to uncover that purpose.

What could he be doing? The man was as slippery as a snake the way he navigated the corridors. More than once, Harry had to back off whenever he feared that Lucius was suspicious of someone trailing him. Even his Invisibility Cloak wasn’t entirely foolproof. It was like the man had a sixth sense for subterfuge and shady actions.

Ultimately though, the time for subtlety was long gone. Draco was boneheaded enough to continue with his attacks against him, Daphne, and Astoria without orders from his precious father, but it was Lucius who had incited the violence this year in the first place. If Dumbledore was unable to deal with the situation himself, then Harry needed to step in lest more tragic events take place.

A cough came from his left, which set off a series of choked sounds throughout the classroom. Whenever one person breathed in too many of the fumes, it triggered everyone to suddenly expel it all. Harry was the only one to keep the heat down in his lungs, letting the pain drive his focus and determination.

“Watch out,” Daphne said as she lifted up the thinly-sliced Clabbert pustules atop a cutting board.

Harry didn’t stop stirring their potion, but he did lean away so that any accidental splashing would miss his face.

The faint plops as the pustules landed in their cauldron signalled the change in colour that came with it. The beet-red potion turned to a dungy brown that looked absolutely disgusting. Then, the surface sizzled with sporadic bursts of orange-coloured foam as each sliced pustule melted away into the boiling concoction.

“We’re almost done,” Daphne remarked as vanished away the leftover pustule residue on her cutting board. “Keep stirring, and I’ll grab the squill bulb.”

“Got it,” Harry replied, trusting her to know exactly what to do.

Daphne was far superior to him in potions. She had a precision in grace when it came to preparing ingredients that Harry simply lacked. Her finesse almost made Harry envious, but he tempered such feelings for a woman he loved so much.

“Weasley!” Lucius suddenly snapped.

Before Ron could even look up from his potion, Lucius had already vanished it from his cauldron. It didn’t matter if it was even a slight mistake, Lucius would get rid of it.

Hermione looked like she was about to blow a gasket from the way her face turned a furious shade of red. Her hand wielding the potion knife was trembling in anger so badly that she had to slam it down onto the table.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Lucius announced. “You two can leave.”

“I told you to wait,” Hermione hissed at Ron under her breath.

“I’m sorry,” Ron cringed in reply. “I was holding the board steady, but it just slipped.”

The faint sniggers from Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle off to the far side of the classroom told Harry that they had something to do with the mishap.

“Ignore them.” Daphne’s words reached his ears but did little to scratch the itch that seemed to fill his body.

“They can’t keep getting away with this,” Harry said, sharper than he intended to. His frustration was leaking out, but he didn’t want it to hurt Daphne or Astoria in the process.

“They won’t,” Daphne promised him, but even her words seemed hollow. “Dumbledore will—”

“Do nothing,” Harry finished for her harshly. “Bletchley’s still attending classes, even after we found undeniable proof that he cursed Astoria with a dark spell. Draco hasn’t been reprimanded either from what I can see. They can act with impunity.”

Daphne didn’t have a response for that. What could she even say? Half the time, Harry figured that she played the Devil’s Advocate if only to stop him from getting too angry over the situation they found themselves in.

“Let’s just get through today,” Daphne finally said, trying to placate him. He hated that she felt the need to do that. “We’re not far from the Winter Break. It’ll only be a couple more weeks.”

“I know,” Harry sighed, channelling his frustrations into his stirring. His pace remained intact, but the liquid sloshed more than it ought to. “Sorry. What’s next?”

“Here’s the bulb.” Daphne pushed the finely-diced bulb into the potion, causing its colour to shift from that ugly brown to a tepid yellow.

Harry gave one counter stir before pulling the ladle out of the cauldron and carefully placing it into a nearby dish to catch any excess drops of the potion that clung to the ladle.

Together, Harry and Daphne stood back and waited as the tepid yellow colour slowly shifted into a bright orange. He dulled the flames until it was barely alive yet while Daphne prepared their vials.

Several minutes later, the potion was complete, and Daphne carefully portioned out the potion into the vials and sealed them with a stopper. The potion looked absolutely perfect, exactly as the book described, even better than the example that Lucius had shown the class before they began brewing.

“I’ll take it up,” Daphne said quickly, snatching up the vials.

“We’ll go together,” Harry insisted.

“You don’t need to try to confront Lucius every time you see him,” Daphne whispered, her eyes flickering over to where their professor was pacing.

“I’m not going to confront him,” Harry lied.

“Maybe not physically, but your attitude and words will,” Daphne replied pointedly. “All it’ll do is draw more ire from him onto you.”

“I don’t think things could get much worse between him and I,” Harry countered. “After what happened this past summer, I’m sure that Voldemort asked him to keep an eye on me. He’s too much of a sycophant to not have his lord’s hatred for me in his heart. But that’s what I want to keep on his mind. I’m sick of him going after you and Astoria instead of me.”

Daphne had no real reply to that. He knew that she was arguing against him more for his own sake than for any real support for what little Dumbledore seemed to be doing to keep the Slytherins in check. She didn’t want to see him get hurt again like he had been during the summer. Harry understood that deeply. He didn’t want to see her or Astoria attacked or hurt ever again, but that didn’t mean that he could just sit idly by and wait for the right time to counterattack. He needed to be proactive.

Standing up to Lucius might not accomplish much in the short term, but it may make the man think twice about acting against Harry in the future. Or, at the very least, it could draw the man’s focus away from hurting Harry indirectly by going after Daphne and Astoria and instead goading him into targeting Harry instead.

“Just trust me on this,” Harry insisted.

“I do trust you,” Daphne said quietly. Her blue eyes shone with sincerity.

“Then let me be the dunderheaded Gryffindor who makes rash decisions while you think of a clever, Slytherin method of dealing with whatever Lucius is planning next,” Harry smiled cheekily.

Daphne let out a soft chuckle. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know.”

“I was forced into it the moment Voldemort came after me and my parents,” Harry said. “If I’m forced to see it through to the end one way or another, then I’d rather not sit patiently waiting like a lamb to the slaughter.”

“Fair enough,” Daphne nodded approvingly. She handed over the potion vials to him. “Just don’t let your anger cloud your judgement. You have to be smart about how you use it.”

Smart? Well, he could certainly try that.

By now, several other pairs of students had made their way up to the front to deliver their potion samples. Harry spotted vials ranging from murky grey sludge to very decent orange-coloured potions. Still, from what he could see, his and Daphne’s looked the best out of the lot.

Goyle brushed past Harry roughly as he headed back to his seat while Draco and Crabbe sneered at him, but Harry chose to ignore them today. Draco still hadn’t learnt his lesson, and Harry feared that he never would unless something more drastic happened. But today wasn’t about Draco. Today was about confronting the man who was ultimately behind the worst of the attacks.

Harry and Daphne deliberately lingered as other students handed in their vials and then grabbed their bags and left for the day. The classroom slowly emptied out until they were the only two left.

“Miss Greengrass,” Lucius said evenly with that same bored tone he used when speaking to the other students, ignoring Harry entirely. “Your potion?”

“Our potion is right here,” Harry said as he pressed two vials into Lucius’ hands.

Lucius deposited the vials on his desk and not-so-discreetly brushed his hands clean on his robes. “Thank you,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You should tell your son to back off before he gets himself hurt,” Harry warned Lucius.

“Indeed?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at him. “Was that a threat, Mr Potter?”

Harry ignored the man’s words. If he confirmed it, he was sure that Lucius would find some way to use it against Harry in the future. If he denied it, then he’d look weak.

“I know that you were the one who orchestrated the attack on Astoria and Daphne,” Harry told him bluntly. “You should back off too.”

Lucius scoffed at him. “Whatever fantasies you’ve developed in your mind are as far from the truth as possible, I can assure you.”

“You can lie to my face all you want,” Harry retorted. “But the truth will come out. All it’ll take is a bit of Veritaserum and your cronies will spill everything that you’ve been up to.”

Finally, the mask slipped off of Lucius’ face. His casual demeanour slipped into something furious, like the look he’d given him back when Harry had tricked him into releasing Dobby. His grey eyes narrowed and his lips curled into something resembling a snarl.

“And what do you think that the precious truth will do for you? Save you from the inevitability of what’s going to happen here? Listen here, Potter. You’re trying to involve yourself in a game that’s far above your head. Whatever you think that you’re capable of is nothing compared to the power that I wield, and I will see to it that you’re reminded of your place.”

Had it not been for Daphne grabbing onto his arm in a loving gesture, Harry would have had the tip of his wand against Lucius’ throat at that moment. The man was a vile piece of filth.

“I think you of all people should know what I’m capable of,” Harry said, his voice deepening in a dangerous tone. “Or did you forget about the fire this past summer? Your Death Eater friend—Yaxley, was it?—certainly learned about what I’m capable of. It was the last thought he ever had.”

Lucius reared back like he was about to strike Harry. “You insolent little worm! I’ll—”

“Do nothing,” Harry snapped, finishing the man’s sentence. “You’ll get others to do your dirty work for you, but if you were a real man, you’d come at me directly. I can give you another taste of those flames if you’d like. Why don’t we settle things between us first, and then I can deal with your son and—”

Suddenly, the door to the classroom creaked open, and Dumbledore’s outline was illuminated within the frame. The tension building between Harry and Lucius shattered awkwardly as the old man’s dominating presence overtook everything.

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s quiet voice rang out through the classroom. “May I speak to you outside?”

“In a moment,” Lucius said. “Mr Potter and I were in the middle of a discussion.”

“One that can be concluded at another time,” Dumbledore said firmly. “Harry?”

“Remember what I said today,” Harry murmured to Lucius as he turned around with Daphne still clinging to him. “Let us just collect our things and we’ll be right there.”

Dumbledore neither agreed nor refused his request. He simply stood there, staring at the three of them with an unmistakable aura of disappointment. Harry brushed away the feeling from his mind and collected his and Daphne’s cauldron and remaining supplies.

When they had everything packed away, Dumbledore stepped aside from the frame and allowed Harry and Daphne passage out. The door shut behind them.

“Yes, Professor?” Daphne prompted Dumbledore.

“I apologise, Miss Greengrass, but I wish to speak to Harry alone,” Dumbledore replied gently.

“Daphne can be here for this,” Harry insisted. “She’ll hear whatever you say to me eventually anyways.”

Dumbledore let out a quiet sigh. “Fine. Please follow me to my office then.”

The walk up from the dungeons took place in relative silence. Only the sound of their footfalls and the occasional chatter of passing students disturbed the quiet that built up around the three of them. With Dumbledore walking at the head of the group, Harry and Daphne communicated silently through a series of looks that indicated concern about the discussion.

Had he somehow overheard what Harry had said to Lucius in the Potions’ classroom? Or was there some other grave matter that needed to be explained in private?

Regardless, Harry was growing tired of having to visit Dumbledore’s office so frequently. It almost seemed like the man was keener on spending time keeping Harry toeing the line than ensuring that the Slytherins did.

Dumbledore’s office had been cleaned up since Harry had been in here last. The outburst of accidental magic had left everything askew, but now it was all righted and tidy.

With a simple wave of his wand, Dumbledore summoned over a pair of chairs for Harry and Daphne to sit down on across from his seat behind his desk. Daphne did so gingerly, subtly pulling her chair closer beside Harry’s so that she could still hold onto him. Harry wasn’t sure if it was out of love or caution that she was still holding onto his arm.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began softly. “I asked you to trust me to keep everything peaceful here at Hogwarts the last time we spoke.”

Right, back when Harry had enough and stormed out.

“And I recall you trying to convince me that my senses were wrong over my worry that Draco was going to attack us again,” Harry challenged him. “He had Crabbe try to hurt me in Defence Against the Dark Arts the other day. That doesn’t seem peaceful to me.”

Daphne’s fingers dug gently into his arm in warning. His tone was sharp, already prepared to fight and argue with Dumbledore before they’d even begun. How had his relationship with him devolved into this?

“It was a provocation that came weeks after the last one,” Dumbledore pointed out. “I’d hoped that you would’ve recognised the fact that Professor Snape and I have made tremendous progress in tempering the Slytherins’ actions towards you.”

“All it takes is one bad incident for someone to wind up dead,” Harry countered. “I’d like the provocations to stop entirely, but they don’t seem willing to do it.”

“They are trying,” Dumbledore insisted kindly. “These men have been raised since childhood with certain undesirable beliefs instilled into them by their parents. It takes time and hard work to undo these teachings.”

“But this change is being done at our expense!” Harry shouted louder than he intended. “They are men, not children anymore. You can’t blame their parents for their continued behaviour.”

“Their behaviour shows the signs of change that we all want from them,” Dumbledore replied, his voice trying to repair the broken calm. “They are showing progress, and this most recent provocation was much tamer compared to their previous ones, would you not agree?”

Harry did, not that he wanted to. He nodded.

“I understand that this is placing a tremendous burden on you,” Dumbledore said sympathetically. “But I cannot achieve the change we both want when you go out and confront Professor Malfoy so viciously in his own classroom.”

“Were you spying on us?” Harry asked angrily. “Spying on me?”

“I have been keeping a close eye on Lucius since the incident in which he directed students to harass Astoria and Daphne,” Dumbledore admitted.

“Then did you hear his words today?” Daphne interjected, her voice cool and crisp. “He’s planning something for Hogwarts. Something bad.”

“I know,” Dumbledore sighed.

“You know?” Harry exploded. “Then why haven’t you kept me in the loop? I’m the one having to deal with his bloody son coming after me and my girlfriends! What is he planning now?”

The quiet din that filled the room after Harry’s angry remark didn’t leave him with that nervous feeling he normally had after confronting Dumbledore. He knew that he was in the right here. Dumbledore should have alerted Harry the moment he had some idea that Lucius was up to something.

Dumbledore’s frown deepened as he clasped his hands together on the table in front of him. He parted his lips and spoke in such a delicate tone, like he was trying to preserve the peace that the quiet offered.

“Lucius has been whispering in Minister Fudge’s ear, attempting to increase the Ministry’s oversight of Hogwarts,” he began explaining. “He has specifically used your actions against the Slytherins who attacked Daphne and Astoria as the basis of his argument that I am unfit to lead Hogwarts and that the Ministry should intervene more directly in the punishments for misbehaving students. He’s argued that you unnecessarily escalated the situation, and Minister Fudge is inclined to agree.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Harry exclaimed. “I did what I had to in order to keep Astoria and Daphne safe.”

“Regardless of whether you were justified or not, what matters is what the Minister himself thinks about your actions,” Dumbledore pointed out. “He’s the man who holds enough power to fulfil Lucius’ ambitions, which will only further serve Voldemort’s goals.”

“Even if Harry never did anything against Draco and the other Slytherins, Lucius would still be trying to sway Minister Fudge,” Daphne argued.

“Indeed, but Minister Fudge may have been less sympathetic to his words had there not been any incidents to support Lucius’ twisted arguments.”

“So, I’m stuck between letting Lucius and the Slytherins run rampant throughout Hogwarts, attacking the women I love, and plotting against us or instead standing up for myself and having Lucius convince the Minister to sack you and effectively take over Hogwarts himself?” Harry asked. “Neither choice is acceptable.”

“They are the options we have before us,” Dumbledore said wisely. “I have spent the past many weeks attempting to assuage Minister Fudge’s concerns and undoing the damage that Lucius has caused us both while also ensuring that Draco and the other Slytherins do not continue their antics here at Hogwarts.”

“It doesn’t seem like your efforts are going well on either front, are they?” Harry asked accusatorially. “Draco is still coming after me, Astoria, and Daphne; Lucius is still convincing Minister Fudge that we’re somehow in the wrong. Do you really think that you’ll find a solution to either problem with your current course of action?”

“I believe that the progress I’ve seen with the Slytherins is proof that things are going well in that regard,” Dumbledore argued. “And my work with Minister Fudge would be going more smoothly if you were better able to restrain yourself and not now begin to go out of your way to antagonise Lucius directly. I need to be able to stall Lucius’ manipulations of the Minister, and Lucius will use this incident today as more ammunition for his argument.”

“Then lay out everything plainly for the Minister to see,” Daphne told Dumbledore. “Offer up memories of incidents, the use of Veritaserum, anything to convince him of the truth.”

“Minister Fudge will rebuke any such efforts,” Dumbledore grimaced. “The use of memories as evidence has always been fraught with difficulties in the legal system due to the ways that they can be altered, and veritaserum has also been limited in its use as some witches and wizards can resist its effects without any outward sign of them doing so. But most importantly is the simple fact that Minister Fudge does not want to see the truth. He does not want to see any evidence that would prove that his long-term political ally had committed any wrongdoings. He will come up with any reasons possible to deny our proof. It would be an exercise in futility trying to convince him of the truth, which is why I am focusing my efforts on minimising Lucius’ manipulations.”

The grim look on Daphne’s face told Harry that Dumbledore’s argument was sound. Harry grit his teeth in frustration.

“If this continues, we may simply have to leave Hogwarts,” Daphne said, surprising both Harry and Dumbledore. She turned to look Harry in the eyes. “You’re right that Draco and the others aren’t going to stop coming after us, and it isn’t healthy to have us simply waiting around, constantly on edge as we anticipate the next attack without being able to reciprocate without receiving criticism for it.”

Her piercing blue eyes bore into Dumbledore’s, underlining her disapproval.

“None of this has been fair to myself, my sister, or Harry,” she continued. “We are not safe in Hogwarts, and it’s clear that nothing any of us can do will be enough to change that.”

“Don’t rush into a decision so soon,” Dumbledore said quickly.

“These attacks have been going on for months,” Daphne countered. “This is a rather late consideration.”

Dumbledore sighed in exhaustion rather than frustration. “I will reiterate the necessity of keeping the Slytherins under control with Professor Snape, and I can assure you that my watch over Professor Malfoy is effective. I have heard no further rumblings about him orchestrating an attack on any of you. The Christmas holidays will be coming in only a little over a week now. Please hold off on any decisions until after then.”

“If we’re serious about leaving, we’ll need to make a decision before the holidays are over in order to make contact with prospective schools or tutors,” Daphne pointed out.

“Then allow me the opportunity to see if I can’t change your minds before then,” Dumbledore pleaded. “I presume that you will be returning to your home over the break?”

Daphne nodded.

“Then allow me to visit you there so that I may speak to you and your parents more directly,” Dumbledore insisted. “I can assure you that if we all work together, we can see things resolve amicably at Hogwarts. We must remain unified if we are intent on stopping Voldemort.”

Harry didn’t know what to say anymore. His trust in Dumbledore’s ability to stop the Slytherins and Lucius had never been lower, but what else could he do but go along with this? He’d never imagined that he’d actually leave Hogwarts before graduating from there, but the damage that staying here was causing him was compounding.

Understanding his inner turmoil, Daphne squeezed his arm in support.

“Harry, Astoria, and I will discuss it,” Daphne replied as she stood up from her chair. “Look for our owl with our reply.”

The pained look on Dumbledore’s face brought out no sympathy from Harry. Enough was enough. Something had to change.