The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 20 (Patreon)

The early morning sunrise rarely bothered any inhabitants within Harry’s dorm in Gryffindor Tower. Everyone kept their curtains drawn around their beds to block out the light, and with the addition of a couple nifty charms they’d been using ever since they learned how to cast them, they managed to block out all light and sound entirely within the privacy of their own beds. It was one of the few things that gave Harry enough comfort to sneak Astoria into his bed.

Unlike with him, Astoria had always been an early riser. She didn’t even need the sun’s rays to make her stir awake, her body simply did it of her own accord. It wasn’t altogether uncommon for Harry to wake up to Astoria reading in bed next to him, unwilling to dispense of the warmth his body provided next to hers. Similarly, it wasn’t altogether uncommon for Harry to wake up with Astoria’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

The warm, wet sensation elicited a deep groan from Harry as the sharp sting of pleasure woke him up. Without his glasses, the world was still blurry, but that didn’t matter since all he could see was his duvet over top of his body and a lumpy shape underneath it positioned right in between Harry’s legs.

He grabbed the edge of his covers and lifted them up to see Astoria’s brilliant brown eyes staring up at him with amusement.

“I figured you would've been too sore after last night,” Harry chuckled quietly.

It was cute the way that Astoria shook her head from side to side with his cock still between her lips. Her tongue swirled around the underside of his cock, teasing every pleasure receptor he had there. She knew his body so intimately that just his little reaction was enough to assure her that she was doing the perfect job of pleasuring him.

Stroking the back of Astoria's head, Harry laid his head back down and sighed contently. "We'll have to get up for class soon," he reminded her. As much as he enjoyed their sex life, being late on the first day rarely led to anything good.

"Then you'll just have to cum faster," Astoria said teasingly as she went back to slowly sucking his cock.

"You know I can't do that when you're just teasing me like that," Harry chuckled.

He could see the taunting look in her eyes that asked him what he was going to do about it. She only reinforced the fact that she was going to take her time by slurping around his cock but barely moving her lips to stroke him. Instead, her tongue continued its smooth little dance around him.

The pleasure was building up in Harry's cock, but it would be too slow.

Well, if she wanted him to take control, then he would.

He waited until her lips ever so slowly moved up to pucker around the head of his cock to suddenly grab her by her shoulders and lift her up. The duvet flipped onto the bed behind her, revealing her gloriously naked body. Her breasts jiggled perfectly as Harry flipped her over onto her front.

"You brute!" Astoria squealed, giggling as Harry grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him.

Her pert arse was staring him right in the face. He grabbed her cheeks roughly and spread them apart, revealing her glistening wet pussy.

Before he knew it, Harry felt himself pushing inside of Astoria's pussy. She couldn't have hidden the moan that left her lips even if she wanted to as Harry filled her up inch by inch of his wonderfully thick cock. He pushed until his cock was fully sheathed inside of her hot, tight hole and his hips were pressed against her arse.

He wished that he could take the time to linger and savour the feeling of Astoria's walls pulsing around his cock, but they didn't have time for that. He needed to make this fast and quick.

Bracing his hands down on the bed on either side of Astoria's head, Harry started thrusting away into Astoria's pussy. He moved at a breakneck pace, putting in as much force as he could into each thrust. The sound of his hips smacking off of Astoria's arse was heavenly, and the feeling of her walls tightening up around his cock was driving him wild.

"Fuck me," Astoria moaned lewdly as she buried her face in Harry's duvet. Her toes curled in delight as Harry kept pounding into her tight, little pussy.

Harry felt utterly in control as he dominated Astoria. He loved it when she got all submissive like this and let him fuck her hard and wild. It really reminded him of when they first got together and used any excuse they had to slip out of the library to shag each other's brains out in whatever abandoned classroom or broom cupboard they could find.

"Harder, harder," Astoria's muffled voice called out.

Harry went harder, almost as hard as he could. The bed squeaked in protest beneath them, threatening to break at any moment, but Harry didn't care. If the legs of the bed gave out, then so be it. He could fix them later.

"Pull my hair," Astoria begged.

With one hand, Harry grabbed a fistful of Astoria's hair and yanked her head back so that he could see her panting face. She looked so fucking good and so unbelievably turned on by how he was fucking her, which only turned him on more in turn.

His cock throbbed inside of her pussy, threatening to spill his seed inside of her. Her pussy felt like it kept trying to suck him back into her depths each time he pulled his hips back. All he had to do was let go and he could stay inside of her.

Suddenly, Astoria let out a high-pitched shriek as her walls clamped down around Harry's cock. He barely lasted a second longer before his seed shot out of his cock into Astoria's pussy. Her walls helped milk him dry of every last drop as the two of them gasped for breath.

In the afterglow of it all, Harry peered through the crack in his curtains to see that everyone else had gotten up already. He listened for any sounds coming from the nearby bathroom, but there were none.

"Stick close to me, okay," Harry murmured as he pulled his cock out of Astoria's pussy. His seed spilled out of her, staining the duvet, but he knew that the house-elves would clean in later.

Astoria nodded and climbed onto unsteady feet. The two of them crossed over to the empty bathroom and quickly found themselves beneath a nice, hot spray of water where they were able to wipe away the sweat from their bodies. Harry helped to soap Astoria's body up as per usual, though she kept swatting his hands away whenever she felt like they were getting too close to going for another round again.

Eventually, they both got out of the shower and dried themselves off before getting dressed. Harry had decided to keep spare uniforms for Astoria and Daphne in his trunk for days like today.

Using his cloak of invisibility, Harry smuggled Astoria out of the Gryffindor Common Room and out into the corridors beyond. Once they got down a few floors, Harry took back his cloak, and the two of them walked hand-in-hand down to the Great Hall.

Harry parted with Astoria reluctantly and watched her run over to the Slytherin table.

It felt wrong sitting down at breakfast without Daphne or Astoria at his side. Even though he was back with Ron and Hermione now, he missed his girls terribly. He placed himself on the side of the Gryffindor table that would allow him to stare out across the hall towards the Slytherin Table. Daphne and Astoria were sat together, alongside a few others that Harry recognised. Millecent Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, and a woman in Astoria's year sat around them, but it was clear that Daphne and Astoria were as sad not to be sitting with Harry as he was.

The longing, wistful looks they kept sending each other across the hall weren't missed by everyone.

"You must really love them," Hermione chimed in suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that came with everyone eating their breakfast.

"I do," Harry smiled lightly, spooning some beans onto his plate. "They've both been through so much with me, and I loved spending every day with them over the summer. It feels weird not sitting with them right now."

"Why not invite them over then?" Ron asked.

Harry blinked in surprise. Even though Ron had been surprisingly calm with the knowledge that Harry was dating Astoria and Daphne, two Slytherins, he hadn't quite been expecting him to welcome them over here so easily. It was a pleasant surprise, and perhaps something indicative of the changes he'd undergone once he realised what a jerk he'd been in pushing Harry away for something he didn't even do.

"I think I will," Harry told him. "But they need to be at their table today to get their class schedules."

"Speaking of which," Hermione looked up eagerly at Professor McGonagall, who was making her way down the Gryffindor table with a hefty stack of parchment in her arms.

After a few moments, Professor McGonagall made their way down to them. The normally stern and serious professor had a surprisingly kind and supportive look on her face as she offered Harry his schedule.

"It's good to see you up and about again, Mr Potter," she told him.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry smiled at her. "It's good to be back."

She handed Ron and Hermione their schedules next and then continued onto the students next to them.

Glancing down at his schedule, Harry bit back a groan as he realised what his first class of the day was. Ron, however, wasn't so strong willed as to stop himself from whinging.

"Snape, really?" Ron cursed under his breath and dropped his schedule down onto the table. He glared at it, almost as though he expected it to burst into flames from his righteous anger.

"Maybe it won't be that bad," Hermione suggested weakly. "After all, it's not like he's teaching potions anymore. Defence Against the Dark Arts might make him a bit more flexible."

Harry doubted Hermione's wishful thinking. "Don't you remember that time he substituted for Lupin when he was ill?"

The looks on Ron and Hermione's faces made it clear that they hadn't forgotten. That not-so-subtle class on werewolves might have gone over everyone's heads at the time, but in hindsight, it was a terribly cruel thing to indirectly out Lupin's little furry problem. Besides, Snape had been as strict and uptight as ever in that class.

The three of them fell into silence, morose over the knowledge that things weren't going to be easy this year.

Suddenly, Ron's head shot up like he just had a brilliant idea.

"We could always try setting his robes on fire again," he suggested gleefully to Hermione.

Hermione couldn't manage to hold a chastising look for more than a second before a giggle escaped past her lips. That was all it took for Harry and Ron to follow suit, laughing happily along as they imagined Snape panicking as he stomped on his robes until they stopped burning.

Merlin, Harry had missed this.

The mood lightened back up as they finished breakfast. Hermione was excitedly informing Harry and Ron about her incredibly intricate study plan for their O.W.L.s this year, while Ron was more focused on his hope for a successful season for the Chudley Cannons.

When they finally finished eating, Harry was the first one to his feet. It only took a moment of waiting before Astoria and Daphne both stood up too and made their way over to him by the massive doors that led out of the Great Hall.

"I hope your morning class goes well," Harry told Astoria as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"It's Herbology," she informed him happily. Her love of gardening came second to her love for reading, but she still enjoyed it immensely.

"Do you want to meet us for lunch here?" Harry asked her. "If you and Daphne want, you can join us over at the Gryffindor table."

"That'd be really nice," Astoria beamed. "I missed sitting with you."

"So did I," Harry chuckled.

With a wistful sigh, Astoria glanced down the corridor at all of the students who were making their way to their first class of the day. "I suppose I ought to get going."

Harry gave her another kiss, only this time Astoria turned her head just in time for Harry's lips to brush across hers. He smiled into the kiss.

"See you at lunch," Astoria giggled as she pulled away from him. She turned and gave Daphne a massive hug before waving goodbye to Ron and Hermione.

Turning to Daphne, Harry offered her his hand, which she took in her own with a soft smile.

"Snape might start to hate you now," Harry grimaced. "He's always hated me, no matter what I do."

"I know," Daphne nodded sympathetically. "But I think I'll be alright. We all know that he treats us Slytherins better than the rest of the houses. At the very least, I doubt he'll do anything to reprimand me publicly."

"It's not like your work is worthy of much criticism anyways," Hermione pointed out. "You've always been at the top of the class."

"True," Daphne admitted. "But I'm sure that Snape will find a way to complain about something of mine, even if it's just a snarky comment on one of my papers."

Harry sighed softly. "I guess there's no sense in delaying the inevitable anymore."

"Right," Daphne said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Let's get going then."

The four of them walked through the halls of Hogwarts towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry was surprised that Snape hadn't insisted that the room be changed to something more befitting his gloomy personality, but he was sure that the room would be decorated differently at least. Each professor brought their own unique flair to their classrooms. Lupin had a number of pictures of magical creatures hung from the walls, Lockhart had kept photographs of himself and signed copies of his books around the room, and Barty Crouch Jr, disguised as Moody, had kept a number of strange artefacts that were designed to reveal threats to the owner.

When they reached the classroom, they found a small crowd formed around the locked door to the classroom. Snape always refused to allow anyone into his classroom unless he was also present, which meant that they always had to linger in the corridor waiting for him to arrive.

"Guess he's still the same git," Ron scowled.

"He'll be here soon," Hermione assured him. "At least it's right after breakfast. It's not like he can take that long to get to class."

Sure enough, just a few seconds later, Snape came striding around a corner with his robes billowing out behind him as dramatically as ever. The man had a perfectly neutral expression of mild disdain on his face as his eyes scanned the crowd of students. Harry saw the man's gaze linger on him for just a fraction of a second longer than anyone else.

"Get in," Snape said gruffly as he unlocked the door for everyone.

Curtains had been drawn over all of the windows in the room. There was only the faintest hint of light shining through the fabric to give any indication of what time of day it was. Candles floated overhead, providing a gentle glow that gave just enough light to make reading and writing possible. Gruesome pictures adorned the walls, showing the aftereffects of dark curses in a variety of ways. One picture showed a man screaming as flesh was torn from his arm. Another depicted malevolent flames consuming an entire family.

Harry shivered in recognition of that last image. That was Fiendfyre, he was sure of it. Was that picture chosen specifically for Harry? And if so, how the hell had Snape heard about what Harry had done? Had Dumbledore told him?

The class of Gryffindors and Slytherins divided themselves up on opposite sides of the classroom as they always did. The divide between the two houses always left a tense animosity between them in any classes they shared, even if some of the individual students were friendly with some of those from other houses outside of the classroom. Harry looked to Daphne to see where she'd like to sit, but she simply followed Hermione and Ron's lead to sit over on the Gryffindor side of the room.

When Snape came to a stop at the head of the classroom and turned to face everyone, his eyebrow raised a fraction of a centimetre as he eyed Daphne's choice of seating. His gaze didn't linger long though.

Slowly, as though discerning his own thoughts through speech rather than delivering a carefully-practised monologue, Snape addressed the class.

"Your instruction in the defence against the Dark Arts has, until today, been substandard. You have had five teachers, each of whom struggled to maintain a consistent cohesion with what the previous instructor prepared you all for. That changes today. I have seen a sore lack of instruction on what the Dark Arts actually are and what they can do to those who are afflicted by them and those who use them."

Snape took a few steps forward and gestured to the portraits around him.

"The Dark Arts are not for the faint of heart. They are malevolent and insidious, ever changing and impossible to confine, and, ultimately, as complex as magic can be. In order to truly be able to prepare yourselves to be confronted head on with the Dark Arts, you must learn to be creative."

Harry could see the looks and sounds of confusion begin to bubble up in the class around him. No one had expected something like this. Each year, they were taught a number of curses and counter-curses, but that was merely rote memorisation. There was nothing creative about learning what you needed to do to stop a specific spell.

And yet, although most of the rest of the class seemed confused, Harry felt like he understood what Snape was getting at. Back in the graveyard, Harry had been woefully under prepared to deal with Voldemort. He'd been utterly outclassed and hadn't had a single coherent set of tactics to rely upon to counter Voldemort's attacks. It'd been through sheer luck and spontaneity that he'd happened to replicate the spell that Voldemort had cast earlier.

"Potter!" Snape suddenly snapped.

Harry realised too late that he'd drifted off into his own thoughts. Snape must have noticed his unfocused eyes, even if they'd only been that way for a moment. He grit his teeth in frustration. It seemed as though Snape wasn't going to take it any easier on him this year.

"Sir?" Harry replied in as polite a tone as possible.

"Since you seem so distracted, perhaps you'd like to volunteer as my first example of why focus and creativity are required to counter the Dark Arts," Snape said coldly. "Get up here."

Daphne glowered at Snape, showing her disapproval, but Snape just stared right back at her with all of the dispassionate annoyance that he could muster.

"It's fine," Harry murmured to her, patting her arm as he stood up.

With a wave of his wand, Snape cleared the front of the classroom for them. The man's desk slid backwards against the wall in a smooth motion, clinking with the gentlest sound as something rattled within.

Harry walked to a spot just a couple metres in front of Snape, but the older man strode past Harry rudely to speak to the rest of the class.

"Mr Potter will aid me in demonstrating the necessity of creativity in combating the Dark Arts," Snape sneered. "Professor Dumbledore has allowed me, in the interest of teaching, to use certain spells that the Ministry has deemed dark. Be assured that the Ministry has agreed to this as well, so long any participants in any practices are willing."

Harry felt everyone's eyes fall upon him as Snape turned around with a dark smile. The man was trying to goad him into going through with this, Harry realised.

"Well, Potter?" Snape raised a single eyebrow. "Do you consent to participating in this practice, or would you prefer to return to your seat?"

"Harry, don't," Hermione's soft voice came from her seat.

"I consent," Harry replied quickly.

This was bound to be yet another chance for Snape to belittle or punish Harry for some unknown slight, but Harry was willing to step into the man's trap rather than back down. Besides his prideful nature, Harry knew that practice against the Dark Arts was the only thing that was ever going to help give him a proper fighting chance against Voldemort. He could practise against normal spells any day, but he wouldn't allow Astoria or Daphne to taint themselves by using dark magic. Better that this greasy git do it instead.

Besides, Harry knew that his pride could suffer a beating or two from Snape. After all, Harry had fucked Astoria on the man's desk during the Yule Ball. That memory was enough to keep Snape's snide looks from bothering him.

"Excellent," Snape said as he walked to the side of the front of the classroom. He gestured with his wand for Harry to go to the opposite side. Harry did so and faced down Snape with the class looking on at a perpendicular view.

"You will attempt to stop me from cursing you," Snape informed Harry.

"Are there any restrictions on my part?" Harry asked.

"Nothing lethal," Snape snorted. "Not that you'd be able to kill me if you tried."

Another attempt to sting his pride. Harry tried to not let it get to him, but Snape's jabs had always prickled him.

"Of course, sir," Harry replied with just the slightest hint of sarcasm. Snape's eyes narrowed at him, and Harry drew his wand.

There was a moment where neither of them moved. Harry could feel the eyes of the class on him. Everyone was curious as to how he'd handle himself, but he could sense the genuine concern radiating from Daphne. The last time he'd gotten into a duel with someone other than her or Astoria, he'd nearly ended up dying. But that wasn't going to happen today.

Harry's eyes barely caught the sharp movement of Snape's wand before the man cast his first spell at Harry. Snape was casting nonverbally, obscuring what spells he was using. Given the fact that he was using the Dark Arts too, Harry had no idea of knowing exactly what spells he was using in the first place. The jet of viridian-coloured light was unlike anything that Harry had ever seen before.

He knew that he couldn't simply try and block this spell lest it shatter his defences on a single hit, so he leapt aside out of its path and attempted to return fire, but Snape was already tracking his movements. Had he not spent the summer training, Harry was sure that Snape's follow-up strike would've struck him, but he was faster than he had been. He stepped back to his original space, neatly weaving his body in between the two jets of light.

A gasp went up through the class as Harry barely squeezed through the narrow gap between the two spells. It was an impressive feat that he doubted anyone else except for maybe Daphne could've pulled it off, and from the annoyance on Snape's face, it seemed as though he'd doubted Harry's abilities as well.

With a flick of his wrist, Harry returned fire with a Stunning Charm and a Blasting Curse to the floor near Snape's feet, hoping to send up a spray of bits of stone to distract the man long enough for Harry to be able to get off a finishing blow. However, Snape mirrored Harry's movements and neatly dodged his Stunning Charm before conjuring a physical shield that blocked the chipped stone.

"You'll need to do better than that," Snape said mockingly.

Snape's wand moved in a blur, too fast for Harry to track accurately, and a volley of spells went flying Harry's way. They were coming too quickly for him to dodge easily; blocking was his only option.

He brought up his Shield Charm with every bit of magical power he had, and he gasped when the first curse nearly shattered it in a single blow. He redoubled his resolve and pumped more power into his spell, allowing it to hold off the next two spells, but he quickly realised that this wasn't a tenable strategy. He'd be whittled down by Snape's dark magic before long.

Gritting his teeth, Harry looked for an opening, but there was none. Snape had the endurance to continue to cast again and again, and Harry couldn't use a single spell in return without dropping his shield. He didn't know how long Snape could keep this up for, but he had a feeling that it'd be longer than his shield could last.

He needed to do something to get out of this. He had to be creative! But how?

Suddenly, a burst of laughter came to his lips. Apparently, copying his attackers was just his style.

Harry waited until another spell struck his shield, and then he reacted as quickly as he could to drop it and conjure a physical shield just as Snape had. A solid sheet of rock formed in the air between them, hovering perfectly in place, but doing so left Harry vulnerable for a fraction of a second. He couldn't stop the jet of red light from reaching him.

A gasp went up through the class as a spray of blood gushed out from Harry's midsection. The dark Cutting Curse cleaved straight through his robes and his torso, leaving a deep gash that bled heavily. Faintly, Harry heard a cry escape Daphne's lips, but he couldn't afford to pay her any mind right now. This was his only chance to get a shot off to end things.

He had three directions he could go: to the left, the right, or above the shield he'd conjured. Each would offer him a shot at Snape, and if the man wasn't prepared for him, Harry might be able to take him down.

The first of Snape's spells struck Harry's physical shield, and chips of stone exploded back out towards the man. This was Harry's chance.

Grimacing, Harry chose to go right, leaping away from the other students so that Snape's spells wouldn't risk harming them. Harry hadn't seen Snape use any protective charms on the room before their duel. Even if he may have already placed some before class, Harry didn't want to risk anyone else's safety.

Fighting through the pain, Harry leapt to his right with a spell on his lips, only to find a sickly-green hex waiting for him. He tried to bring his wand up to shield himself, but he wasn't fast enough. The hex struck him, and he collapsed to the floor.

Mucus and blood filled his nostrils and mouth immediately. He tried to breathe in, but the thick, rapidly-congealing liquid stopped him from being able to. A burst of panic filled his chest. He tried to cough, but no air would escape his lungs. His body spasmed in protest, trying to find a way to get out of this, but the hex was too powerful, and Harry didn't know how to counter it.

His wand was wrenched from his hand as Snape strode over to him. Harry glared daggers at the man who turned to face the class.

"And this is why creativity is most important," he instructed the class. "Had Mr Potter attempted to distract me by transfiguring a second attacker or using some other types of magic besides his simple-minded shielding and counter-attacks, then he may have had a chance at beating me."

Harry's lungs burned with the need to be filled with air. His body thrashed on the floor.

"Help him!" Hermione shrieked.

Snape turned to Harry with a glower on his face. "You'll need to do better if you wish to defeat the Dark Lord," he murmured.

Suddenly, the blood and mucus vanished, and Harry sucked in a deep breath.

"Greengrass!" Snape snapped. "Take Potter to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you, get out your textbooks and turn to page thirty-six."

Harry burned with humiliation as Daphne rushed to his side and helped him up to his feet. For a moment, he wished that his usage of dark magic still had enough of a hold over him to tempt him to burn Snape alive in Fiendfyre, but he recognised that this malevolent thought was just another holdover from that time. He took a deep breath in to replenish his lungs and let Daphne help him down between the rows of desks towards the door.

Snape may have humiliated Harry today, but he'd also taught him a valuable lesson: Harry was still nowhere near ready to face Voldemort. But, he'd be ready to learn everything he could about fighting the Dark Arts to give himself a fighting chance.