Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

He had stormed out of Charms, furious with Hermione for taking the side of Angelina, Ron and all the other Gryffindors who had turned against him. There had been no way he was going to back to the common room after that, and he hadn't been in the mood for Salazar's sarcasm either, especially when he had wanted nothing more than to unleash another barrage of spells into something that would break in far more satisfying way than a clay tile.

Harry had wandered about the school instead. He'd passed the first floor bathroom from which he had carried Ginny Weasley having saved her from Riddle, the third floor corridor from which he had been carried after stopping the loathsome shade of Voldemort that had possessed Quirrell from obtaining the philosopher' stone. He paused to look out over the whomping willow that stood over the passage to the Shrieking Shack where he had met Sirius, his godfather. He desperately wished he could contact the man, but it was too dangerous to risk. His godfather had already nearly been kissed by dementors once.

There were no such memories attached to the floors he had risen to beyond that. The fourth, fifth and sixth floors had drifted past without incident, but then, upon reaching the seventh, he had stumbled on something Salazar had spent years searching for.

He wasn't exactly sure how he had found it, only that he had. Wandering up down the seventh floor corridor, wishing for a place that he could let off steam in and where he would be left alone, a door had appeared. The stone of the plain wall opposite one of the tapestries had shimmered and a small, ordinary door had materialised.

The room within had been anything but ordinary and when he saw the rune covered walls, glass targets and mirrors he had known what he had found. The Room of Requirement Slytherin's portrait had described.

The Chamber of Secrets held a special place in Harry's heart. It was somewhere that only he could enter out of everyone within the school and had become is sanctuary away from the noise and distraction of Hogwarts. The Room of Requirement was beyond even that.

When Harry had wanted to release his anger it had provided him with a whole room of things to destroy and books full of spells to accomplish it. When he had decided he needed to learn how to keep everything a secret because he knew Hermione was searching for where he was going it had provided him a virtual library on protective enchantments and even several books on the arts of the mind. Harry had been fascinated to note that had basic steps to the mind arts were remarkably similar to the exercises he had learnt to help focus his intent and improve his spell casting.

The pattern of his progress shifted.

Every morning for the last two days he would wait for everyone to leave and then, using the Marauder's Map and his father's invisibility cloak sneak to the seventh floor and return to the fabulous room. Spending the rest of the day reading his way through every book that the miraculous room could provide and practicing anything he dared attempt he would wait until evening then slip off to the Chamber of Secrets.

Salazar's time-turner could not be removed from the chamber so he couldn't take it to the room itself and he already tried and failed to get the room to provide him one itself. There was still more than enough for him to learn in the chamber, so he repeated the day from the beginning, learning from Salazar while his past self was in the Room of Requirement, out the way, and rendering it impossible for anyone to notice his duality.

'Focus,' Salazar snapped grumpily from within his frame. 'Your mind has been elsewhere for the last two days. If you don't concentrate on your destination you're liable to appear in multiple places at once and die. My heir will not die because he splinched himself. Godric would wet himself laughing in the afterlife.'

It was just after lunch, two days before the wand-weighing, three days before the first task; all for the second time.

The Chamber of Secrets was not included within Hogwarts' wards and so it was completely possible to apparate around and from within it. At least it would be if Harry could actually manage to do it. Most of his time was spent focusing very hard on the destination, lurching towards it in the strangest manner without actually moving, flinching, and collapsing on the floor feeling very sick.

The ancient founder was losing patience with him, but he hadn't exactly been helpful. 'Picture where you want to appear and will it so,' the portrait had stated simply, giving Harry absolutely no useful hint as how he should visualise himself appearing there. He had absolutely no idea what it was supposed to look like and, rather, acidly, voiced as much to his ancestor, cutting through his parseltongue rant.

'You've never seen anyone apparate,' the painting responded, dumbfounded. 'Have you been under a rock for the last fourteen years?'

'I was raised by and live with muggles,' he replied stiffly.

'Oh.' Salazar looked slightly embarrassed about his reaction now. 'That explains it. You should just appear in the space. Imagine it as if instead of you moving, some impossible force twisted the world instead, so you were standing where you pictured.'

Harry considered it as he staggered back to his feet and took a few deep breaths to steady his breathing and settle his stomach.

He pictured the tip of the forked, tongue-styled bridge, and imagined the world wrenching back past him.

His magic twisted and instantly he was there.

A wave of nausea and dizziness struck him, his vision failed and he spun, falling into the very cold pool in front of the stature waving his arms desperately.

When he resurfaced his ancestor was laughing so hard he had completely dislodged the snake from around his neck. It had fallen to the bottom of the painting where it hissed furiously at its master and waited for him to stop so it could slither back up to its normal resting spot.

'Shut up,' Harry hissed angrily, lapsing into parseltongue. The nausea struck again when he clambered out and stood upright. It was too much and he doubled over, emptying his stomach onto the floor.

'You'll get used to the feeling,' Salazar assured him, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. 'Godric was hopeless at any form of magical transportation for years. He'd fall over whenever we apparated so whenever we wanted to make a decent first impression Helga would side-long him and hold him upright. He hated it.'

'I can empathise,' Harry growled, wiping his lips and vanishing the contents of his stomach. An over-powered warming charm left him steaming, but much less cold. He reapplied it several times until his robes were dry again.

.

.

.

🍀Visit my site at tiendup for more advanced content...🍀

🍀Read the complete novel in PDF, available at my Store!🍀

https://sunflowersfic.tiendup.com/