Chapter 255 – Phineas's Plan
After watching Phoebus leave the room, Phineas turned to Astoria, opening his mouth to say something.
But Astoria spoke first.
"You need my blood? Or are you going to experiment on me? It's fine. Just go ahead. I won't interfere."
Test it directly on yourself...
Phineas's heart skipped a beat.
What kind of pain would that bring? Lifting the curse would inevitably trigger a massive reaction. If successful, that was one thing, but if it failed, the consequences could be disastrous.
Using magic directly on the body without any certainty of success was equivalent to risking Astoria's life on the curse.
Her attitude when she said this was so indifferent, so numb—it was clear how many times she had endured similar experiences before. Even though all of it was for the purpose of lifting the curse, it was still heartbreaking.
"I see," Phineas said after a brief silence.
"But I need you to get some sleep now."
Astoria blinked in surprise but nodded, stood, and walked to the bed in the room. She lay down quietly and closed her eyes.
Phineas watched her for a moment, then drew his wand and waved it.
As the spell took effect, Astoria's breathing slowed and steadied until she fell into a deep sleep.
While she slumbered, Phineas stood in a quiet turmoil. Unlike her peaceful rest, he was facing a dilemma.
He had some theories about the Greengrass family's blood curse, but no clear understanding of its exact nature. Hoping to resolve it now felt more than a little presumptuous.
It was evident that the curse was related to blood—otherwise, it wouldn't be called a blood curse—and it clearly passed through familial bloodlines.
To find a solution, he would have to start with the blood.
"Puff," he called softly.
As usual, Puff, who had been invisibly lurking nearby, appeared at once, awaiting instructions like always—silent, loyal, and ready to act or defend as needed.
"Master," it intoned.
"I need a Muggle chemical experiment set and some medical equipment. Go to Lisa."
Phineas scribbled a list of specific items onto a scrap of parchment and handed it to Puff.
"Give this to her. Tell her it's urgent. Have it brought here immediately."
Puff accepted the note and vanished once more.
Phineas turned back to the room and pulled a tiny suitcase from the pocket of his robe. With a flick of his wand, the miniature case expanded midair until it reached its full size.
Inside was a carefully organized set of test tubes and containers, filled with various potions and herbs.
He selected an empty test tube and moved to Astoria's bedside.
With a gentle wave of his wand, a narrow incision appeared on her wrist. Her blood, guided by his spell, streamed out—part into the test tube and part into a nearby beaker.
He corked the test tube, then stared at the beaker.
Magic had enabled wizards to exceed Muggles in countless ways. But because of that same magic, most wizards had followed a mystical, theological path rather than a scientific one.
Thanks to memories from his previous life, Phineas knew science held truth, too. In fact, science and magic might be two routes to the same end. There was a saying that science leads to theology, and theology to science. Wasn't that true?
Because of this belief, Phineas had long studied Muggle science. Chemistry in particular, but also physics.
Since the Second World War, Muggle chemistry and physics had advanced to the point of being able to destroy the world—something wizarding magic could not do.
He now used his own knowledge to begin studying the blood, searching for traces of the curse using obscure magical techniques.
This curse truly was a blood curse. He had read about one similar case—the curse that afflicted one of Dumbledore's old friends. That curse gave Animagus abilities, but when the victim reached a certain age, it transformed them into an animal permanently. Eventually, they lost their sense of self and could never return.
Few knew that Dumbledore's friend was Nagini—his former cousin's friend—who had fully transformed into a snake and fled Britain. Eventually, she came under the protection of a mysterious wizard, becoming a part of his Horcrux.
Phineas knew all this.
The connection between the blood curse and blood is so strong that none of the potions Finny knew of, including the one he gave to Phoebus, actually had any effect.
Even the one he gave to Phoebus could lead to some very bad situations.
While it could temporarily replenish vitality and make Astoria appear healthier, it also nourished the curse, strengthening its effects and worsening her condition in the long run.
His only semi-effective potion was made with unicorn blood and phoenix blood. It didn't heal; it merely suppressed the curse's effects, making it slightly more bearable than withstanding phoenix fire directly.
Phoenix flames could restore life, rebuild flesh from bones—but fire was still fire. Being burned by it, having flesh, skin, and bone incinerated, was nothing short of excruciating.
"This potion works. It works better than phoenix fire. That must mean…"
Phineas murmured, "There are only two ingredients—both meant to purify dark magic. If the effect is purification, then maybe… purification is the key?"
He sighed.
Purification was notoriously difficult. Everyone in the magical world knew that curses could be lifted through purifying magic. The fact that Astoria still bore the curse spoke volumes about how hard it was.
Phoenix flames, unicorn magic, even powerful Patronus charms might help—but only to suppress, not eliminate, the curse.
Just then, Puff reappeared, carrying the equipment Phineas had requested—and a letter from Nicolas.
Letter from Nicolas:
"It's been a while, Phineas. I got your reply. I understand you've got your hands full. But I hope you'll visit soon. Albus is already here and has enjoyed far too much food. I saved some for you.
Albus told me you were visiting the Greengrasses and studying their blood curse. You should be there by now, so I thought I'd share what I know.
The Greengrass curse is different. It doesn't just damage the body—it harms the soul. As the curse progresses, the wizard's soul weakens. Some tried to transfer the soul out of the cursed body but failed. So, we suspect the curse is soul-bound as well as blood-bound.
Years ago, I studied one of the Greengrasses. Removing their blood did break the curse—but it killed them. Please don't ask who it was.
That aside, Albus and I theorized a potential method. You know Transfiguration can separate blood from the body. Transform the cursed person into an object—like a chair or table—without blood. Then remove the curse from the object.
But you must've already seen the flaw in this. Most objects can't handle the curse's backlash. And Transfiguration doesn't last long enough to complete the process. That's why we abandoned the idea. Still, it might help you."
The soul?
That complicated everything.
Phineas felt a headache coming on. Soul-related magic belonged to the domain of legendary wizards.
Phineas could manage magic at the level of a great wizard, but only briefly. He couldn't sustain it like true masters could.
The only two kinds of magic that Phineas had used which were related to the soul were the soul-infusing spell left behind by Gryffindor and the energy-shaping magic he had refined himself.
The first was used to imbue objects with memory, granting them intelligence—like the glove he now wore on his left hand, although that particular glove happened to be rather lazy.
The second method involved manipulating a pre-prepared soul that had already undergone secondary processing, and then infusing it into a shaped element using soul magic. This could be considered a form of soul manipulation.
Did he really have to use the soul-manipulating aspect of evocation magic on Astoria?
Should he use that on Astoria?
Even if it didn't cause any damage, could he be sure she'd remain herself?
But giving up?
He couldn't accept that.
If magic wouldn't give him the answer, then he would look to Muggle science.
Phineas quickly prepared blood slides and examined them under a microscope. After careful analysis, he found it—a unique cell in Astoria's blood, filled with potent energy. This cell, he concluded, was the curse's anchor.
The only way he could think to destroy such a cell was with Fiendfyre—magical flames capable of consuming even curses.
But Fiendfyre would also destroy Astoria.
Unless…
Unless he combined it with phoenix flame.
Phoenix fire could restore the flesh even while Fiendfyre incinerated the curse. It was risky—dangerous beyond belief—but perhaps their best shot.
He would need help. Someone who understood Fiendfyre. Someone who understood Phoenixes.
There was only one wizard who fit both—and Phineas knew him well.
Albus Dumbledore.
Phineas left the room and found Phoebus standing guard outside.
He told him everything—his theory, the risks, and the plan.
After all, it was too dangerous to proceed without Phoebus's approval.
And if they were to summon Dumbledore, they would need his permission.