Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Harry.'

The delighted, if still slightly strident, tone of the female third of the golden trio cut straight through the rather pleasant absence of thought he had been enjoying.

'Hermione,' he smiled. She hadn't changed over the summer at all.

Harry had heard, overheard technically, since his piggish cousin had been talking to his lackey Piers Polkiss, that girls suddenly turned into beautiful women in their teens. It had sounded rather like Dudley expected it to happen overnight like some odd, human caterpillar. There was little doubt in Harry's mind that his understanding was based off an extremely limited experience of girls and one too many adult magazines.

Hermione certainly did not conform to Dudley's theory of female puberty. Her hair was every bit as unmanageable and bushy as before, rather like his own if he was honest, and all the sort of personifying flaws his moronic cousin had assured his equally stupid friend would vanish - from her worried lip to her slightly disproportionate teeth - still existed. She would not be Hermione without them, just as Ron would not be himself without freckles and Harry could not be Harry without his glasses.

'How has your summer been? Have you started studying? What are your classes? Have you dropped divination yet?' Harry blinked. A summer at the Dursley's hadn't prepared him for the sudden burst of attention. For all their disgust at anything abnormal his aunt and uncle had been quite content to simply ignore him of late. It was a vast improvement from previous summers and the eleven years beforehand, but he had grown used to being his only source of counsel as the months had passed.

'It was okay actually,' he admitted, trying to keep track of the other questions streaming at him.

Perhaps I've spent a little too long in my own company, he decided.

Being the focus of attention had never been particularly attractive to him, especially when he was younger. Over a decade of being ignored had left him withdrawn and resigned to the permanence of the distance, until a letter had come that offered hope of something more. Harry had leapt at the chance, but his newfound fame had left him as unnoticeable has he had been in the normal world. Only a handful of people had grown close enough to be trusted with his innermost thoughts, amongst them he had done his best to be open, and for a time he had forgotten that he had once been nobody at all.

This summer had reminded him, no matter how much of his time he had spent studying in an attempt to forget.

'And your classes? Divination?' Hermione pressed insistently. Harry tried not to physically retreat from the onslaught of attention.

'Runes, arithmancy and yes, I dropped divination.' She gave him a questioning glance. 'Trelawny was starting to run out of original predictions for my death,' he shrugged in explanation. He didn't mention his interest and summer study of wards; that would have started Hermione off on a tirade.

'You can't take fourth year runes or arithmancy without knowing the third year course,' Hermione explained with an all too familiar mix of concern and condescension. 'You'll have to study to catch up or join the third years. You should have studied in the summer,' she stressed. He had to suppress a laugh at the horror with which she contemplated being in a class with the year below.

'I'm sure I'll find a way,' Harry answered casually. Most of the time he had spent on his own - all three months of it - had been devoted to those very subjects, as well as the magic that he should have already known. Having caught up and even surpassed the level of knowledge he was supposed to have Harry was quite shocked he had ever been able to perform half the magic he had. The fact that he had had to learn a basic definition of casting magic itself was proof enough that he was nowhere as great a wizard as Dobby professed. It did not matter how much of his magic he poured into a spell if his focus and intent were lacking.

'Where are the Weasleys?' Hermione asked again after a moment.

'Attempting to pack, I think,' Harry answered sharing a knowing glance with his friend.

'Ron,' she sighed.

'Harrikins.' The enthusiastic cry of one - seemingly nobody could really tell which - of the twins came from the stairs of the Burrow behind him and then the entire family was around him chattering excitedly.

It was quite loud and everyone suddenly felt quite close. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

'Is everyone here?' Mrs Weasley bustled around, pausing only to attempt to convey some semblance of some tidings on a bleary-eyed dishevelled Ron. 'Honestly, Ronald,' she sighed in passing, 'Percy was ready before you and he's not even interested in Quidditch.'

There was a murmur about the divine crouch and some passing reference to the slipping standards of cauldron bottoms from the twins behind him, but the sudden, disorientating whirl of motion and noise only seemed to end when they were seated again.

Magical transport was certainly one of Harry's least favourite forms of travel, ranking second only to the unpleasant taxi service provided by his uncle. Thankfully such occasions were few and far between as the nauseous feeling caused by the portkey was only beginning to fade now he was sitting still.

To one side of him he had the twins and Ron locked in argument and the other belonged to Hermione and Ginny the latter of whom was trying to explain the rules of the sport to the muggleborn girl.

'Bulgaria will win,' Ron confidently declared as Harry leant in to at least appear to be joining in one of the conversations around. 'Krum is brilliant.'

'We disagree Ronnikins. Far be it from us to dispute the talent of the mighty Krum -'

'-but our money is on the Irish.'

'Technically, George, our money is on the Irish and Krum,' the other twin, presumably Fred, corrected.

'Very true, George, very true. Ireland to win, but Krum to catch the snitch.' Apparently they were both George today and Harry briefly wondered if they even considered one of the names as their own at all, or just used both.

'I still think Bulgaria will win it,' Ron argued stubbornly. 'Krum will get the snitch long before the Irish can score that many points.'

'Stop fighting,' Ginny hissed across the front of them all, 'the teams are coming out.'

She spoke in front of me.

Harry blinked. Evidently her crush had faded at least a little. He smiled for the first time since touching the portkey. It had been unbearably awkward spending time near Ginny when his very presence seemed to cut off all higher brain function.

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