Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Chapter 5: CH 5



He was lying on his back with something warm and soft beneath him, his glasses were nearby, yet he could still see perfectly. That he could somehow see without his glasses wasn't really the most concerning thing because standing in front of him was Hermione.

She was brewing something in a vast black cauldron, stirring it cheerfully while her hair shifted between bright, sleek silver and its more normal bushy brown.

That's very strange.

'What're you making?' he managed to ask eventually. The hair changing was probably the product of his bad vision. He certainly hoped that when he put on his glasses it would stop.

His friend looked up at him and he recoiled in horror. Hermione's eyes had grown to almost twice their size and beneath the huge, black orbs a cruel, hooked beak protruded. Even his eyesight wasn't bad enough to convince him what he was seeing wasn't really there.

'Amortentia,' she replied dreamily.

Harry tried to edge away as she came closer and Hermione frowned, her brows descending and her vast, dark eyes narrowing angrily. She patted him gently on the head as he struggled.

'It's for you,' she told him happily,' drink up.' Hermione proffered him a ladleful of bright, silver liquid that steamed and shimmered. It looked almost drinkable until he caught sight of twisting, slithering, silver serpents within it.

'I don't want to,' he told her.

'It's for your own good Harry,' she assured him, raising the ladle to his lips.

'No,' he spluttered, turning his face away and sending the liquid snakes squirming all down his chest.

'You should've drunk it,' Hermione screeched, lunging for him. Feathers exploded over her body and her beak gaped towards his head, stretching in a soundless shriek.

Just as the curved tip of her beak was about to reach him there was a flash of green light and Harry flinched upright in his bed with a gasp.

It took him a long minute of mind-clearing exercises to regain his even breathing.

'Mr Potter,' the familiar, stern voice of Madam Pomfrey greeted him, 'you're awake.'

'I hope so,' Harry replied.

Weird, veela-Hermione dream, he shuddered. The memory of that dream was going straight into the too disturbing to think about category of his mind.

Madam Pomfrey gave him an odd look. 'You're in the school hospital wing,' she began, 'term hasn't actually started, but it was so close it was decided you'd be better off here than at St Mungo's.'

'What happened?' he asked. 'I remember falling asleep in the ashes of the camp at the World Cup, but that's it.'

'You were found by one of the Bulgarian team's cheerleaders after the chaos was over by all accounts. She, of course, recognised you and brought you to the nearest hospital point where you were found by the Weasley family and Miss Granger, then you were brought here.'

'Are they all okay?'

'Miss Granger and the Weasley family were all quite worried, but otherwise fine. You however, Mr Potter, have somehow exhausted your magical core and in recovery you have set a new record for your lengthiest stay in my hospital wing. I daresay it is the first time that a student has manage that before term has begun.'

'That's good,' Harry replied, relieved that the Weasleys and Hermione were fine.

'It's not good, Mr Potter. Honestly, you seem to almost die at the end of every year, you'd think you might have learnt some caution by now.' Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a disapproving look.

'It's the start of the year,' Harry replied flippantly, 'I wasn't expecting anything for months.'

'Be that as it may, Mr Potter, you are awake, and once I have made sure you are fine you may return to Gryffindor Tower.' The strict nurse placed the tip of her wand against his forehead, tutting when Harry flinched slightly.

'Everything seems fine,' she nodded. 'Off with you, and don't let me see you back in this bed for at least a few months.'

He was only too eager to depart, absentmindedly transfiguring his hospital robes into a set of school robes. He imagined the clothes he had originally been wearing were now ruined.

'You're alive,' Ron greeted him midway across the Great Hall.

'Yes, Ron,' Hermione responded, 'that's a great way to say hello to your friend who was in a coma because he used too much magic.'

'I don't mind.' Harry laughed at the outraged expression on her face and walked with them on the back towards the common room.

'So what happened, mate?' Ron, it seemed, had waited as long as he could before the question burst out.

'I'm not actually sure,' Harry started carefully, unwilling to mention the ash basilisk. 'It was chaotic, one moment I was running with you guys, and the next I was waking up in the hospital wing.'

'The healer at the World Cup said you had put too much strain on your magical core, Harry,' Hermione explained skeptically. 'That means you tried to push so much magic into a spell that it forced everything out of your body.'

'I don't remember casting a spell like that,' Harry shrugged. It was the truth of sorts, whatever he had done had been all intent and power. There had been no incantation at all. 'So what actually happened to cause all that?'

'They haven't told you yet,' Ron gaped.

'Harry only just woke up, Ron,' Hermione sighed. 'How could he know?'

'Oh,' Ron looked slightly mollified. 'It was Death Eaters, they attacked the site, only you can't tell anyone I said that because we heard it listening to Percy and Dad talking before work. Apparently they attacked the muggles near the site and anyone nearby. It's been chaos at the Ministry since then and Dad reckons something's up because Percy's boss, Mr Crouch, has supposedly resigned.'

'That's not what they said,' Hermione cut in, frowning, 'Mr Crouch is supposed to be resigning later in the year. Something is happening that he's organised before he can retire easily. He's unofficially resigned.'

'Same thing, Hermione,' Ron objected.

'It's not the same thing really, and it means that whatever he's doing must be really important to allow him to continue on.' Harry understood what Hermione meant, even if he wasn't sure Ron did.

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