Chapter 253 – Phoebus Has No Choice
Mrs. Greengrass was so shocked that her mouth fell open, and for a moment, she even forgot to take the potion in her hand. After a few seconds, she recovered and said quickly,
"Ah, I'm sorry, Mr. Black. This matter must be decided by my husband, Phoebus. Please wait a moment."
Phineas waved his hand lightly.
"No problem."
Mrs. Greengrass abandoned all pure-blood formalities and left in a hurry. From her behavior, Phineas could tell just how shocked she truly was.
That was precisely his goal.
The Greengrass family, now a shadow of its former self, had declined primarily due to the blood curse that plagued it.
Although Daphne, the eldest daughter, showed no signs of the curse, Astoria—the youngest—suffered from a severe form of it. Some experts in blood curses even believed she bore two curses simultaneously, which was why her condition was so dire.
Astoria wasn't expected to live past the age of twenty. Her illness was so severe that the Greengrasses hadn't dared to try for a third child, fearing another tragedy. Even with no clear heir—since daughters marrying out would carry their husband's name unless they remained unwed and retained the Greengrass surname—the family had been left with few options.
So if Phineas's potion worked, it would mean more than saving a life. It could mean securing the family's future.
A moment later, Phoebus Greengrass, the family patriarch, rushed into the room.
Though it was described as walking, it looked much closer to running. Clearly, he was anxious.
He entered the reception room and, without ceremony, grabbed Sirius's hand.
"Mr. Black, does this potion truly work? How should it be taken? Are there any side effects?"
For a moment, Sirius, Mrs. Greengrass, and Phineas all looked slightly awkward.
Thankfully, Mrs. Greengrass stepped in to correct him.
"Phoebus, the potion was provided by Mr. Black—Phineas."
Realizing his mistake, Phoebus flushed.
Phineas offered a reassuring smile.
"It's fine, Mr. Greengrass. I'm young, and people often assume Sirius is the one handling things."
Phoebus chuckled, embarrassed.
"My apologies, Phineas. May I ask those questions again—about the potion's use and safety?"
Phineas nodded.
"Of course. First, I can assure you the potion is effective, though it may not be as miraculous as one might hope. More importantly, it has no adverse effects."
The potion was, in essence, a vitality-restoring draught—an adaptation of Nicolas Flamel's elixir of life. Though lacking the Philosopher's Stone and its dependency-forming side effects, its potency was reduced. It could replenish vitality, but not reverse aging or repair damaged organs.
Longevity came from a combination of sustained vitality and soul-to-body transformation via the Stone. Without that mechanism, the potion could only delay the effects of a draining curse—not eliminate them.
In Phineas's theory—and one even Nicolas had agreed with—the so-called "Greengrass blood curse" was actually a unique affliction. Rather than causing damage, it siphoned the victim's life force continuously.
If that were the case, restoring vitality could offer significant relief, even if it wasn't a permanent solution.
He explained,
"Mr. Greengrass, the potion won't remove the curse. It only treats the symptoms. I'm still just a student—I haven't reached that level of mastery."
Phoebus responded quickly,
"As long as it can help her feel better, that's more than enough. So… can it be taken directly?"
Phineas nodded.
"Yes, just drink it. It will ease her pain—perhaps enough that she no longer needs Phoenix flame therapy. But she'll have to take it regularly. Also, I should warn you: the ingredients are extremely rare. The potion will be expensive."
Phoebus looked thoughtful. Then he asked,
"Phineas, may I know what ingredients are used?"
This was a breach of etiquette in the magical world. A potion's recipe was a personal and often proprietary creation, and asking for it directly was considered disrespectful.
But Phoebus didn't care about propriety anymore. His daughter's life was at stake.
Phineas sighed.
"It's not that I don't want to tell you. But the potion is closely tied to the formula of Nicolas Flamel's elixir of life…"
Phoebus fell silent, understanding immediately. Phineas must have signed a magical contract preventing disclosure. He said no more, and instead shifted to rebuilding the social mood.
"In that case, shall we move to the dining room? I heard you're fond of Far Eastern cuisine, Phineas, so I had our house-elves learn some dishes from there. And of course, we've also prepared French cuisine for Mr. Black."
The last part was directed to Sirius.
Phineas smiled and agreed. A shared meal could smooth over tension. Table culture was universal.
At dinner, however, Daphne made her disdain clear.
She didn't hide her dislike for Phineas—a typical response from a spoiled pure-blood girl her age.
By contrast, Astoria greeted him warmly.
It was ironic. At the start of the school year, Phineas's behavior had embarrassed Daphne deeply. But over time, Astoria had taken to sitting beside him whenever possible.
Perhaps it was simply that she appreciated the quiet. For reasons left unspoken, Phineas always ate alone at Hogwarts. The other Slytherins avoided the seats near him.
"Father, are you serious?" Daphne's shocked voice rang out.
Phoebus had casually mentioned that Phineas had provided a potion that might ease the blood curse.
Daphne reacted immediately and without grace.
"If you're lying to us—!"
Before she could finish, the atmosphere grew tense.
Phoebus's face darkened.
Astoria looked worried.
Mrs. Greengrass gave Daphne a disapproving glance.
Phineas simply smiled.
"Let's set aside the question of whether I would lie. Even if I did—what could you do about it, eldest daughter of the Greengrass family?"
His words were cutting, echoing the very same tone he'd used on the Hogwarts Express, when he'd called her foolish.
Daphne fumed, but said nothing. She wasn't stupid. She knew how vast the gap was between the Greengrass and Black families.
Her earlier threats were born of pride and poor impulse control—nothing more.
Phoebus rushed to defuse the tension.
"Phineas, please don't take offense. We haven't raised our daughter as well as we should have—"
Phineas waved him off.
"No need to apologize, Mr. Greengrass. Her attitude doesn't bother me. You should be the one concerned."
Though his tone was light, his words sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"Oh, by the way," Phineas added cheerfully, "perhaps you don't know what happened on the Hogwarts Express at the start of term."
He proceeded to recount how Daphne, encouraged by Pansy Parkinson, had tried to frame Draco Malfoy.
The longer Phoebus listened, the darker his expression became. Daphne grew more and more nervous—until she began trembling.
"DAPHNE GREENGRASS!"
Phoebus thundered her full name. Daphne, already frightened, shrank in her seat.
She had known how serious her actions were. She'd avoided telling her parents precisely because she feared their reaction. They didn't read the papers or engage with the other pure-blood families—they were completely isolated.
That was why she'd been so hostile to Phineas's visit. And now, he'd told her father everything.
But Phineas smiled pleasantly.
"Mr. Greengrass, the matter was handled. It didn't impact your family's reputation. I only mention it so you'll be aware—and keep an eye on things."
Phoebus gave him a long, searching look. He understood perfectly.
Phineas wasn't just airing old grievances. He was reminding Phoebus that the Greengrass family now owed him—twice.
The potion.
The cover-up.
In the next Council of Elders meeting, neutrality would no longer be an option.
It was one thing to back the Black family when they were strong—icing on the cake.
But if their faction faltered, the Greengrasses would still have to support them, to repay their debt. That would come at a cost.
Remaining neutral had protected them for generations. But that shield had now cracked.
Phoebus glanced at Daphne, sighed deeply, and thought bitterly: Why can't she be more like Astoria?
But outwardly, he smiled at Phineas.
"Phineas, we truly owe you. If not for you, I don't know what would've become of our family. If the Blacks ever need support, don't hesitate to ask. The Greengrass family may be weak, but we still have a voice in the Council of Elders."