Harry Potter :Diamond Heart

Harry had always been quite a visual minded person, something that applied well to practical subjects, but not to essay related ones. The History of Magic, by far his least favourite, had well demonstrated that fact.

'If you say so.' Hermione seemed unconvinced and Harry took a deep breath when she wasn't watching to calm down. For all of his friend's intelligence she was often quite stubbornly narrow-minded. In three years here she had always been top at nearly everything, outstripping both he and Ron, but when it came to actually using magic Hermione's only advantage lay in her knowing more than they did beforehand. Harry was fairly confident that should they try and perform the same spell without prior practice his would be just as good.

Hermione was going to get a surprise when she discovered that he now knew almost as much theory as her. He had to concede that she would still know far more about many other things; Harry would not be rivalling her in History of Magic, or any subject with a final grade composed of more than a couple of essays. He was fairly confident that he could at least equal her in potions, their electives, charms and transfiguration. Harry thought the latter, now his strongest subject, was the most likely one in which he might surpass his intelligent friend. Transfiguration spells lent themselves well to the visually minded.

'The welcoming feast starts soon. We should go down and join everyone,' Ron suggested. He was glancing between the two of them slightly nervously and had evidently picked up on Harry's irritation a lot better than Hermione had.

'Yeah,' Harry agreed, slipping his wand into his sleeve, 'let's go.'

All of a sudden it was loud again. There were students everywhere, many of whom, despite an extra couple of inches gained over the summer, were still taller than he was.

They took the nearest seats amongst those in their year, joining Neville and Seamus. Ron slipped in alongside him and gazed down at the empty sparkling plate with some consternation.

'Food soon, Ron.' He comforted him with pat on the shoulder as the first years nervously entered.

The sorting hat, looking as every bit as underwhelming as it did every year, sat on the chair at the front. No doubt it would soon start singing.

'Do you think it makes up a new song every year,' he whispered to Ron as it launched into verse.

'Dunno, mate, but my brothers say they've never heard the same one twice.'

'That's probably a good indicator it does, your brothers must've covered the last decade or so here, and it does have all year to write them.'

'When it's not delivering swords to you,' Ron replied with a grin.

'It's a good thing it does deliver swords,' Harry responded. 'What happens if there's another giant snake in Hogwarts and Neville needs to kill it? He can't be expected to go get the sword himself now can he.'

The two of them laughed until Hermione hissed at them to be quiet.

As the sorting drew to a close and the first years anxiously squeezed on to the ends of the tables, Dumbledore rose to speak. Harry cocked his head curiously. If something was going to happen at Hogwarts this year now was when it would be mentioned.

'A few announcements before we all get too distracted by our impending food to forget them. Firstly, I would like to welcome Professor Moody to our teaching staff. He will be taking over the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Secondly, I must remind members of all years that the Forbidden Forest is so named for a reason and, lastly, this year, after centuries, a great sporting event will be making its return. This means, unfortunately, that there will be no quidditch.' A murmur of barely concealed horror rose from the hall at this announcement. Harry was sure there had been less reaction when Quirrell had declared the arrival of a troll in his first year.

'The Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts come October,' the headmaster continued unabated. 'A chance, for those who enter, to earn eternal glory as school champion.'

'So that's what's happening,' Ron said excitedly. 'I'm definitely putting my name in. Eternal glory,' he finished with a longing sigh.

'Professor Moody looks none to impressed about it,' Hermione remarked.

She was right. The new teacher's gash of a mouth was downturned, twisting the scar-scattered face above into quite a forbidding frown.

'He looks like he's been through the wars,' Harry noted quietly.

'He has,' Ron enthused. 'That's Mad-Eye Moody, that is. Dad says he was one of the greatest aurors back in the war against You-Know-Who, but that he's sort of lost it recently.'

'His eye is a bit creepy,' Neville added hesitantly.

'It's supposed to be magic,' Ron agreed, giving it a nervous look himself. 'Don't know what it actually does, though.'

Harry helped himself to bread, despite Hermione's insistence that he should eat more. He had admittedly just awoken from a coma of sorts, but he wasn't particularly hungry. If anything he felt slightly sick. It was the sort of unsettled feeling he got every year from the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for one reason or another.

'You need to eat more than just bread, Harry,' Hermione pressed, attempting to add food of every kind to his plate when he wasn't guarding it.

'Ron's eaten enough for all three of us,' he defended, deflecting a serving of potatoes onto Ron's plate. The red-head happily speared and devoured one of the vegetables without a second thought.

'Just because Ron eats enough food for a small country doesn't mean you should starve yourself to compensate,' she huffed.

'I'm doing it out of protest,' Harry tried. 'The food is all made house elves and that's practically slavery, Hermione. I can't exploit their efforts in good conscience.'

Hermione looked horrified and dropped her fork as if it had bitten her.

'You've done it now, Harry,' Ron muttered. 'We'll be hearing about this for the rest of the year.'

'Should've taken the potatoes,' Seamus agreed. 'Who knows where this will lead?'

'Did you hear about the World Cup?' The Irish wizard continued after a few forkfuls.

'Yeah,' Ron griped, 'Ireland won, congratulations.'

'Not that,' Seamus grinned. 'Well a little bit that, but I meant the attacks.'

'We were there,' Hermione broke in. She had, it seemed, recovered from the shock of learning about the house elves enough to begin eating again.

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