Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

'They don't,' she insisted and stamped her foot rather childishly.

'I'll try and persuade everyone to apologise, but I can't make any promises for the others,' he said finally. 'Angelina Johnson is still on the warpath and that looks unlikely to end anytime soon. I heard Katie Bell pleading with her to change her mind about kicking Harry from playing seeker next year.'

'Did she?'

'No,' Ron shook his head. 'Angelina said he deserved it and that you can't have someone you don't trust as part of a team. Her and Katie are really close still, but as soon as Harry comes up everything gets all awkward and tense around them. Fred and George are sort of avoiding the entire subject as well what with their relationships with Angelina and Alicia.'

'It's ridiculous,' Hermione exclaimed. 'He doesn't seem to want to take part. The old Harry would've liked nothing better but to avoid it all entirely.'

'And the new one?'

'I'm not sure,' Hermione admitted. 'Sometimes I get the feeling that the new Harry wouldn't stop at much in his desire to improve himself and winning the tournament would certainly prove he had done that.'

'He can't've changed that much,' Ron dismissed. 'First sign of something dangerous and he'll be dragged in immediately. Someone always has it in for him.'

'You don't think that might have something to with him being chosen as champion. The Triwizard Tournament definitely falls under into the dangerous category.'

'I considered it,' Ron confessed, 'but it's different to the other times. He was sort of linked to those; there's nothing to connect the tournament to him, no You-Know-Who, no Padfoot and no dirty great serpent.'

Fleur was rapidly losing touch with the conversation. There was a lot of context missing.

'I guess, she sighed. 'The headmaster seemed to think he had entered; he looked very disappointed in Harry.'

'You think he actually might have secretly entered himself using his cloak as well?' Ron asked.

Fleur repressed the urge to snort. Whatever this cloak was it would not be able to fool an age line. A trip to their library should quickly show them that.

'I don't know. I don't know Harry as well anymore. Whatever's changed him is concerning and I don't think it's just me. Dumbledore looks troubled too. Every time he sees Harry he gets this worried, haunted look.'

'I'll apologise,' Ron agreed. 'I'll encourage Ginny to speak to him again, she won't hex me if I offer to cover for her with Angelina, and I'll try to convince Seamus, Dean and the others to back off a bit if I can. I'm still angry with him, but if it's this or his friendship, then I'll do it.'

'Thanks, Ron,' Hermione sighed. 'He flipped out on me and left Charms when I implied it was partially his fault for his fame eclipsing everyone. Since then he's vanished everyday except for mealtimes and the nights.'

So I'm not the only one he's evading, Fleur realised.

That was interesting too. It reminded her of how she acted at Beauxbatons, remaining in her room, or staying with Gabby, and only appearing to attend classes, or eat.

'We'll have to find him to apologise,' Hermione voiced.

'He comes back to the dormitory quite late every day,' Ron told her, 'I'll gather everyone in the common room and we can catch him then.'

'That's a good plan,' Hermione admitted with some surprise. The red-head looked a little affronted.

'Chess player,' he reminded her. 'Not to mention that if you haven't figured out where he's going in over a month we aren't going to in the next couple of days.'

Fleur scowled. He was right about that. Harry Potter's list of talents seemed to include the ability to vanish at will among a short tally that could mostly be summarised as things that infuriated her.

'We need to do it soon,' the girl fretted, somehow simultaneously bossy and nervous.

'Tonight or tomorrow,' Ron agreed. 'I'll talk to the others in class.'

The two of them swept out of the empty class, narrowly avoiding Fleur who had not had the foresight to stand further from the door, leaving her to inspect the rather odd assortment of muggle items that were mounted on the walls.

By the time she had returned to the carriage most of the other Beauxbatons students were outside. It was the first day that had begun without clouds and though some few now littered the sky it did not yet threaten rain. Fleur imagined this was the closest Hogwarts ever got to summer.

The largest group, which included her two least favourite people, Caroline and Emilie, were busy ogling the Durmstrang boys who were relaxing on the deck of their ship. Their school was in Scandinavia, Sweden, she was reliably informed, and very far north even then. This must have seemed quite a pleasant day in comparison to what they were used to. Scotland didn't lose all its light for several months in winter, after all.

It was not pleasant enough for Fleur to endure the other girls, so she headed back towards her own room where she could let her guard down.

'Madame Maxime?' She caught her headmistress midway down the carriage corridor.

'Yes, Fleur,' she responded kindly.

'Do you know anything about age lines?' Her headmistress was the only person she could ask here that might know more than what Beauxbatons' library did, though she doubted she would. The library at the chateau was quite extensive.

'Why do you ask? It cannot possibly be for the tournament.'

Fleur suspected that her headmistress might have a slightly better idea of why she was asking than she let on, but played innocent.

'I was curious. The Hogwarts headmaster used one. I have not seen such a thing before.'

'They're interesting, but quite useless, I don't doubt I am the only one of your teachers who knows more than the name of the enchantment,' Madam Maxime informed her. 'They are a ward designed to allow passage to magical beings provided the age of the beings magic meets the requirement and so simple that they can be neither bypassed nor adapted to any other purpose. It is not a ward you will ever really need to use, I don't think.'

'Thank you, madame,' Fleur replied, disappointed but not surprised. Her headmistress had not known anything she did not which left her only with the rather unbelievable theory that Albus Dumbledore had wanted to place Harry Potter in the tournament.

He must have found a way, she decided. Perhaps someone with the same first and surname who was willing to add their name and then let him pretend it was his.

The idea had some merit, as at no point would either the goblet be lied to or the age line violated. Unfortunately it wasn't a theory Fleur could easily disprove or validate.

How frustrating.

Fleur shouldn't even be thinking about Harry Potter, why he was competing or anything other than the fact that the first task of the Triwizard tournament was less than a week away. From what she had seen the first round normally involved some sort of magical creature: a cockatrice, a manticore and even a sphinx had made appearances in this round. Fleur rather hoped that a sphinx would not be the chosen animal this time. Most magical creatures could be charmed into sleep using a spell of her own derivation and adaption. It made the most of her heritage and abilities, but sphinxes were notoriously tricky and immune to such things. You either answered the riddle they gave you, ran, or got eviscerated.

The latter was obviously the least preferable option of Fleur's list of outcomes, but whatever creature it did turn out to be she should have a slight advantage over the other champions, especially the boy. He was probably going to be the tournament's next casualty, different or not.

The Boy-Who-Lived-Until-The-Triwizard-Tournament-Started.

It was a bit of a mouthful, but Fleur rather liked the new title she had bestowed upon him, even if she did not really want him dead.

Of course, there was the wand-weighing ceremony to consider before the first task and as the last point at which a champion could be rejected and exchanged it was the real beginning of the tournament, so technically he wouldn't die as soon as it started. If he was really lucky he might even escape with just an injury or two like their magical creature professor back at Beauxbatons.

Fleur wasn't particularly fond of the man. He often eyed her with the same professional curiosity he extended to things like griffins, or dragons. Consequently she had not paid a great deal of attention to his classes and didn't know what magical creatures were native to Scotland.

She doubted anything that liked the warm or dry would be here, or that the organisers would have included an untameable creature. Her enchantment would be useless against most of those.

Whatever the creature she was, Fleur was confident that the first task could end in her favour and, as was more than likely in her opinion, with only three champions, as the Triwizard Tournament was supposed to have.

Satisfied that things were looking like they would be going her way Fleur rummaged around in her drawers for wand polish. She had to bend her arm in awkwardly to get her hand right to the back where it had been pushed by her gradually increasing collection of articles about the tournament.

Settling onto the end of her bed she started to carefully apply the substance, hoping to make a favourable impression. Fleur never neglected her wand, but rarely took the time to lavish it with care as she was doing now. Rosewood and Veela hair made temperamental wands. Both materials either bonded strongly with their owner, or never did. Her's was as strong as any she'd ever seen. Her wand had been a reassurance to her back when her friends had begun to leave her behind. Rosewood was, after all, a symbol of inner beauty.

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