Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Transfigure your thumbnail different,' Salazar instructed.

into

something

Harry gave the painting a flat stare. It had only just begun to grow back.

'Nobody will notice if it's still missing,' the founder sighed. 'The whole point is that you learn to reverse the effects of transfiguration upon one's self.'

'Can't I just transfigure something else?' Harry asked. There were hundreds, thousands of things he would rather test this on than himself. 'It's a counter for spells applied by a wizard or witch to themselves,' Salazar reiterated tiredly. 'It will obviously not work if you try it under different circumstances.'

'Fine.'

Harry tapped his half-returned thumbnail with the tip of his wand, wincing at the sudden feel of cold he received when it turned to bright steel.

'Shiny,' Slytherin remarked. 'I'm sure nobody will notice if that ends up being permanent.'

'What's the incantation?' Harry demanded. The second task was steadily growing nearer. It was early February already, and he was barely any closer to managing the self-transfiguration. He blamed Salazar for this. The painting had made him spend hours in the library researching and learning about how gills worked so when that he, and by extension his magic, understood the changes he was going to make.

'Redeo,' his ancestor replied. 'Focus on making things as they were before.'

'Redeo,' Harry repeated. His nail returned to its former colour. Sceptically he tapped it with the tip of his wand and was none too surprised to hear the ring of steel.

'At least it is less conspicuous,' Salazar smirked. 'Try again.'

Harry fixed the portrait with a baleful glare, but repeated the process regardless, this time with more determination and focus.

'That's more like it,' Slytherin nodded. He was mimicked by the serpent at his shoulder.

Harry's nail had not only lost its metallic nature but regrown to the size it had been before his splinching on the return from Diagon Alley.

'Now can I actually try transfiguring my lungs?' he asked. It felt like the longer he took to manage this the further he fell behind the other champions. He knew from Fleur Delacour that they were already well on their way, and that had been three weeks ago.

'I suppose we are running out of time,' Salazar admitted. 'There's only a week and half left to the task in which to master it, remove any teething problems and for you to get used to the sensation of breathing so differently.'

'I'd best get started then.' Harry raised his wand, but stopped when Salazar shook his head.

'You'll need water to breathe afterwards,' the founder reminded him, as if he were an idiot. 'You'll have to get reacquainted with the pool.' An amused smile had found its way onto Slytherin's lips at the idea. He hadn't been able to watch the last time Harry had been forced to take a dip, but now his ancestor had a front row view.

Not this time, Harry decided, raising his wand again.

A very powerful warming charm left the pool of water steaming slightly in the cool of the chamber and looking a far more attractive prospect than before.

Salazar looked rather crestfallen.

'I congratulate you on your cunning and independent thinking,' he smiled after a moment of mourning for his lost entertainment. 'Not so long ago you would have simply jumped in without a second thought if I told you to.'

'I won't be blindly following instructions again,' Harry told him proudly. 'Not even yours.' 'Good,' the portrait hissed fiercely. 'Rushing into things blindfolded will get you killed.'

'I'm amazed I'm still alive,' Harry grinned brightly. Rushing into things blindly was a fairly good way to describe the last three years of his life.

'Get in the water,' Slytherin commanded, 'and try not to drown yourself.'

Harry stripped off his robes and sat on the tip of the forked-ended bridge, then he lowered it until the water to reached his jaw. He took a deep breath.

'Are you ready?' Slytherin asked.

Harry placed the tip of his wand over his chest and pictured the inside of his lungs changing. The small sacs that were his alveoli lengthening into long, wavy filaments, transforming his lungs into something he imagined as rather resembling the tendrils of an anemone. He took a deep breath, sucking air into his lungs.

No sense of relief came with the action. The desire for oxygen only increased.

Ignoring the growing urge to use the reversal charm and give up he ducked his head under the water and gulped down a lungful of the lukewarm liquid.

It was slight relief, but once his lungs were full he could barely empty them, the muscles of his diaphragm lacked the strength to force all the water out and he could no longer rely on diffusion to act in his favour.

'Redeo,' he croaked, spluttering water everywhere. Slytherin looked on, worried, as Harry coughed up several mouthfuls of liquid before pinching the bridge of his nose. 'I take it that it did not work?'

'I can't get the water out of my lungs once I've breathed it in,' Harry informed him. 'Without some action to move the water my internal gills will fail and I will drown.'

'You'd best return to the library, then,' Salazar decided. 'I can't help you here, you need some sort of changes to your chest muscles to help move the water in and out, but without detailed study you could end up killing yourself far too easily.'

'Back to the library,' Harry grumbled. He'd spent far too long in there already for his liking. It wasn't that he had lost his enjoyment of reading or discovering new aspects of magic, more the company he had to keep avoiding.

Hermione seemed to have abandoned her loyalty to Hogwarts completely in favour of her new friend Viktor Krum. Harry imagined it had had something to do with her not being able to coexist with Ron without another person as a buffer. If Krum had shown any appreciation for her intelligence she would have jumped at the chance to have someone to impress.

Fleur frequented the library almost as much, but she had confined herself to the enchanting section of the library and seemed to still be doing her best to avoid anything so terrible as eye contact with Harry. He'd spoken more to Viktor Krum than to her, and he'd only repeated the same informal greeting to the Bulgaria a few times when they found themselves reaching for the same section of books. Harry suspected that whatever solution Krum was preparing was similar to his own. At the very least it was relevant to transfiguration.

'Off you go,' Salazar encouraged gleefully. The portrait knew full well that Harry disliked having to dodge Hermione every time he spent any time in Hogwarts' Library.

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