Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Harry,' the headmaster gestured to the seat in front of his desk. 'Humbug?' He proffered a bowl of the offensively bright, striped sweets in Harry's direction. He shook his head politely, still bemused by the eccentricities of the world's most powerful wizard.

'Professor Mcgonagall has been quite concerned about you, Harry,' the headmaster announced sadly, withdrawing the bowl. 'She overheard some of the rumours and after investigating brought her suspicions to me.'

The aged professor ran a hand through his silver beard and shifted in his chair. 'It seems that nobody has seen you in some time, Harry. A few of your fellow students were quite concerned.'

'Who?' Harry was genuinely curious.

'Miss Weasley, Miss Bell and Mr Longbottom.' Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing look, his electric blue eyes as bright as gimlets. 'I am glad you have learned more about the cloak Harry, it is a powerful heirloom, but you should try to resist the temptation of using it. Artefacts such as your cloak carry a risk with them, becoming addicted to their use is dangerous.'

'I do not understand,' Harry responded, puzzled. 'Heirloom or not, it is still just an invisibility cloak with a few extra enchantments.'

Dumbledore pushed his half-moon spectacles up the bridge of his nose. 'What do you know about age lines, Harry?' he asked curiously.

'They prevent anyone below the set age from crossing them,' Harry shrugged.

'Do you know how?'

'No.'

For a moment the headmaster seemed incredibly old. 'I have made a mistake, it seems. There have been too many of late.'

'What do you mean?' Harry hoped he was about to tell him of horcruxes, but somehow he doubted it.

'Your cloak is a very useful thing Harry. It is not an invisibility cloak but a rare artefact designed to completely conceal its owner, including his magic. An age line can only be cheated by such an object. They are very simple, if obscure, wards that distinguish the age of a wizard or witch's magic and respond accordingly, as such they are almost impossible to cheat, especially in conjunction with the Goblet of Fire, an object that is very hard to deceive indeed. I'm afraid that when your name came out I simply assumed that you had figured out the abilities of your family heirloom and had used it. I felt it was the most likely possibility and am ashamed to admit I never really considered the others.'

'I did not use it,' Harry defended, then, remembering what the headmaster had once said to him before the Mirror of Erised continued with a small smile. 'I do not need a cloak to become invisible, headmaster.'

'That is a very admirable ability, Harry,' Dumbledore smiled, there was obvious pride in his expression. 'We are two of very few wizards or witches who attain such prowess with the disillusionment charm. I am glad I do not have to ask if you entered the tournament.'

'That is all very well, Albus, but not what I came to you about.' Professor Mcgonagall's tone had gained an extra note of stiffness.

'I know, Minerva,' the headmaster nodded sagely, 'but it was important too.'

'I am concerned about the rumours that you have not been seen inside Gryffindor tower for a month, that when I asked for your whereabouts my Gryffindors, my lions, did not care about one of their own enough to find out. What is happening in my house?' Professor Mcgonagall had her lips pursed in the same look of appalled outrage she normally reserved for Neville's attempts at transfiguration. 'They do not understand,' Harry answered simply. He did not care to explain the rift that had formed, it was not going to go away just because the headmaster or his head of house knew about it.

'Is there anything that we can do?' the transfiguration professor asked more softly.

'There is nothing,' Harry smiled wryly, remembering what he was, 'that can or should be done.'

'Very well,' Dumbledore sighed. 'I will do my best to discover how you have ended up in the Triwizard Tournament. Professor Moody has his suspicions, he has been telling me for weeks that the faces in his foe glass are getting closer and clearer.'

Harry shifted on his chair rather sceptical of the paranoid professor and his paraphernalia of instruments.

'Is there anything you would like to discuss Harry? You did well in the first task, much better than anyone expected, especially with a new wand.'

There were lots of things Harry wanted to discuss and he had to bite his tongue to stop him from asking about horcruxes just to see the look of shock on Dumbledore's face. Self preservation, no matter how temporary, was more important that fleeting satisfaction.

'I will try my hardest to win,' Harry informed him seriously.

'Mr Potter the Triwizard Tournament is meant to be a stern test for exceptional wizards several years older than you are.' Professor Mcgonagall seemed more worried about him than dismissive of his chances, but Harry still felt a small flicker of fury.

'Then when I win it will be quite the embarrassment for the other three,' Harry replied as calmly as he could. Dumbledore gave him a small smile and selected a pink-striped humbug from the bowl on his desk. Slipping the sweet into his mouth he sucked it thoughtfully for a moment.

'I do have a question for you, Harry,' one wizened hand extended across the desk to catch his own. The missing thumbnail was glaringly obvious atop the mahogany surface. 'When did you learn to apparate?'

'This year,' Harry answered earnestly. 'I would have been wandless for the first task had I not.' He eyed his headmaster warily, knowing all too well what he did was technically illegal. 'I am not going to report you for illegal apparation,' Dumbledore reassured him. 'I was merely concerned you might splice yourself more seriously next time you tried to visit Diagon Alley. Mr Ollivander was very impressed by you and very proud of your new wand, he is an expert in the lore of wands and I trust his judgement on the subject implicitly. He told me your wand, despite it's changed and even slightly worrying nature, was not something to be concerned about and that you were a prodigious and talented pupil I had every right to feel proud of.'

'I won't be repeating my feat,' Harry told him. 'It was only out of necessity that I ever attempted it.' He withdrew his hand from Dumbledore's loose grip and tucked it into his pocket. 'As for my wand, it is no concern of anyone's but mine.' He flashed Dumbledore his brightest smile to convince him, but the glimmer of teeth did not have the effect Harry had hoped for.

Instead of smiling back, or acting reassured by it, the headmaster shivered and paled considerably.

'Albus?' concerned.

Professor

Mcgonagall

asked,

'It is nothing, Minerva,' the headmaster smiled, nodding rather foolishly. 'I was momentarily reminded of another mistake of mine, one that I still hope to be able to correct before it is too late.'

Is the mistake me and my harboured horcrux, Harry wondered, or Riddle. It could be either of them, but Harry suspected it was the latter. He had borrowed Tom Riddle's charming smile for his own use without ever thinking that others might recognise it.

'No need to look so nervous Harry,' Dumbledore smiled. He had finally finished his humbug. 'There is nothing you need to worry about except the Triwizard Tournament for the moment. You have your OWLs next year too and I expect you to perform quite spectacularly on them.'

So I do not need to die for another year and a half at least, Harry realised. Provided Dumbledore was not lying, and he did not appear to be, the benign twinkle had returned to his eye, Harry had only Voldemort to fear for a little while.

Only Voldemort.

If he had been alone he would have laughed at the thought. Any other wizard would have been terrified at the prospect of Tom Riddle constantly coming after them. Harry was afraid, but only of dying in ignominy. If he was to be a sacrifice to stop Voldemort's terror returning he wanted to be remembered and respected for it. It seemed only fair he got some small compensation in return for losing everything.

'You can return to your studies, or to trying to discover the clue to the second task,' Dumbledore told him benevolently. It seemed that the kindly headmaster had returned, his trust and approval restored.

It's a shame his trust in me has returned just as my trust in him has been broken.

Harry had no intention of taking Albus Dumbledore at his word ever again. For all his good intentions the old wizard knew too much, and worse, he kept that knowledge from those who deserved to know it in his attempt to arrange events in whatever manner he thought best. The headmaster was clearly a believer in the greater good.

The gargoyle slid shut behind him and Harry was left with a slight sense of relief that Dumbledore was no longer watching him but looking for whomever had put him in the tournament and a list of three names. Ginny, Neville and Katie. They were the only members of the school that had been concerned about him and his whereabouts. Ginny's reasons were clear and he could not face Katie, not yet. Neville, on the other hand, intrigued him. The shy, clumsy boy had not spoken to him since he had effectively ended their friendship in the dormitory, but evidently retained some loyalty to one he had once considered a friend.

The corridors grew progressively emptier as he made his way up towards the Room of Requirement. He felt the need to test himself, to see how much stronger he was than he had been at the start of the year. Harry might only have a year and a half to live after all.

Halfway along the seventh floor corridor a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall. Harry bounced off it hard and fell, winded, on to the floor. His glasses slid from his face on impact with the wall and skittered across the floor out of reach.

'So,' a familiar voice drawled, 'you actually got something right, Weasley.'

'Shut up,' Ron's voice snapped. 'Seventh floor I said, and here he is, skulking.'

One of Crabbe or Goyle dragged him up from the hard floor and pushed him against the wall. 'I told you that you'd pay,' Ron smirked. 'Nobody hurts my little sister, not even you.' There was genuine ire in Ron's voice. It was a bit of a surprise to Harry who had assumed his threats in the Great Hall were empty. At least it seemed Ron was loyal to his family, if not to some of his friends.

'So you join forces with Malfoy,' Harry sneered at his once friend. 'That's a new low you've sunk to, even for you.' He readied himself for a fight, there was no way he was not going to struggle.

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