Harry Potter:Diamond Heart.

'He took the blame for what happened in the tournament?' Harry asked carefully. He'd done his best to remove Cedric from the line of fire, but there had been nothing he could do about himself, the only unattacked champion.

'He took the blame for everything, Mr Potter,' the nurse sniffed. 'The minister didn't seem very interested in his version of events at all, even when it was obvious he had been under the Imperius Curse.'

Harry was hardly surprised, not from what he knew of Fudge. The man was putty in the hands of Malfoy and his ilk, and considering the company the pure-blood kept, Harry wouldn't been counting on the Ministry of magic for anything anytime soon.

'At least the students know what happened,' Madam Pomfrey assured him. 'Dumbledore announced everything at the end of the year feast.'

The end of year feast?

'Exactly what is the date, Madam Pomfrey?'

'Oh,' the nurse looked momentarily flustered. 'It's the second of July, Mr Potter, everyone has gone home except for the staff and you. You should write to Mr Longbottom and Miss Bell, they were often in here to see you over the last week and will be grateful to know you have recovered.'

Harry felt a rush of affection for the loyal pair. They had not forgotten about him while he had been injured, even though Harry had not been able to teach or help Neville, or spend time with Katie. He'd write to them the moment he could.

Everyone, Harry sinking.

suddenly

realised,

his

heart

'And the other schools?' he asked the nurse, very quietly.

'They've gone back to their own institutions,' Madam Pomfrey told him, swiping the goblet from his bedside and disappearing into her office next to his bed.

She went back to France.

Harry felt oddly sick. Fleur was a very long way away now, too far for him to ever find to even speak to again.

Of course. 'Are you ok, Mr Potter?' The nurse had stepped back out of her office.

'I'm perfectly fine,' he reminded her, smiling bitterly. It was inevitable that he wouldn't get the chance to speak to her now he wanted, how he rued not ignoring his temper by the lake, or lingering by the Room of Requirement, or taking any of the moments over the last few months in which he had wanted to find her.

'If you insist,' the nurse sighed. 'The headmaster wants to speak with you before you leave, he's on his way down to the ward now.'

Harry took that as permission to get out of bed and dress himself in the robes he had been provided with. No doubt the staff and the house elves had failed to find his stuff, located, as it was, in the Chamber of Secrets. 'Harry,' Dumbledore strode through the doors into the hospital wing. 'Are you feeling well?'

'Yes,' Harry lied. Something fluttered at the edges of his mind when he met the headmaster's bright blue eyes and he furiously cleared his mind, his hand flashing to his wand.

'Ah,' Dumbledore looked slightly guilty, 'you have been learning the mind arts. I apologise, Harry, it has become a habit for me to take a peek using passive legilimency, reprehensible, I know, but sometimes necessary for the greater good.'

'I would appreciate it, sir,' Harry responded cooly, 'if you refrained from doing that. I am aware of occlumency and its principles, but not legilimency. How does it work?'

He remembered quite clearly the final spell Riddle had cast in the graveyard. Voldemort had only glimpsed the emotion behind his spell and memories of his childhood, things from before Hogwarts, but he couldn't risk him seeing anything more important next time they met. Harry had to find a way to keep his mind closed off completely.

'It's a complicated and obscure branch of magic,' Dumbledore began, 'one Voldemort has mastered. It allows a wizard to create a connection to the mind of another and, from there, see his thoughts, feelings and memories. Passive legilimency does little more than skim the surface and let me glimpse very strong reactions or thoughts, but a more active approach would allow me to follow those thoughts and feelings as far back as they run, and even create visions of my own in your head.'

'I think I would like to learn to defend myself against it,' Harry decided.

'It is often a good idea, especially for you, Harry, whom Voldemort has taken an interest it. The easiest way to defeat it is to break eye contact with the caster, all but the most skilled practitioners require eye contact to maintain the magic and it is far easier to do with it.'

That is realised.

how

I broke

the connection, Harry

He'd apparated away from Riddle, and that had separated them. It was a disturbing thought that in the seconds between being hit by the spell and escaping Voldemort had still managed to see so much.

'I can point you in the direction of some good books on the subject, Harry, but I must press you on what happened after you touched the cup and were whisked away. Ludo Bagman, who altered the portkey, knew only that he was sending you to Little Hangleton, Voldemort, and that the Dark Lord would be returning on that night.' Dumbledore ushered Harry out of the door and into the corridor, beginning the route towards his office.

'He is back,' Harry answered simply. 'There was a ritual in the graveyard, using my blood. He has a body now.'

'What else do you remember, Harry?' The old wizard was staring him intently and Harry, remembering the explanation of legilimency, carefully cleared his mind.

'He was angry with the Death Eaters, we duelled.' Harry dragged his words out, acting confused while thinking furiously. 'Bertha Jorkins was the one who Imperiused Bagman, she killed Crouch when he found Pettigrew, and Pettigrew for getting caught and risking his master. We can't prove Sirius' innocence now, can we?'

I'm sorry, Sirius, he silently apologised. 'I'm afraid not, Harry,' Dumbledore shook his head sadly. 'That does explain the body that was found on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, though I suspect Cornelius will not accept its true identity.'

'There was more,' Harry looked down in feigned embarrassment to hide his momentary smile of triumph, 'Voldemort beat me, he was too strong, I only just managed to apparate away when the wards trapping me failed.'

'Surviving a duel with Voldemort is something to be proud of, Harry,' the headmaster told him gently. 'At your age you should not have had a chance. Did something inexplicable happen that allowed you to escape?'

'No,' Harry shook his head. 'He apparated to dodge my spell,' he shifted his wand further up his sleeve out of sight at the faint hint of green light, 'so I tried to apparate back here and sort of succeeded.' Madam Pomfrey had mentioned bouncing, so he doubted he'd arrived quite as planned. Dumbledore looked faintly surprised. 'Should something have happened, Professor?'

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