A/N: :) Please review. This story is a twist on Goblet of Fire.

Disclaimer: Don't own. I wish.

"What are you most afraid of?" Voldemort stalked forward, but he looked…different. He was a man with very pale skin. Instead of a nose, he only had the nostrils of a snake. Harry backed up. To his surprise, there was a brick wall behind him.

Preparing himself for an inevitable fight, his wand immediately flew into his hand. Harry pointed the wand at the villain. However, Voldemort did not move any further. He simply stood back, observing Harry's frazzled state. As Harry gazed into the eyes of a lunatic, his body started to twitch.

Harry gripped his head as a burning pain started to spread throughout his body. He felt himself fall forward, convulsing under Voldemort's gaze. Why did it hurt so much? Harry's mouth fell open as he tried to scream.

"What are you most afraid of?" There was that question again. Harry thrashed wildly as the pain grew…and grew…

With a jerk, Harry Potter sat upright in his bed. Clutching his heart, he panted and gazed about the room wildly. There were only slumbering Gryffindors. He was safe. Slowly, his heart stopped pounding.

He lay back down again and thought about the nightmare. Was it truly just a dream? After the Quidditch World Cup and that awful dream about an old man…and Voldemort, Harry just wasn't sure anymore. No. It was impossible. He shook his head firmly and pressed his lips into a thin line. There was no way it was real.

After a few minutes, it became obvious that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Whenever he closed his eyes, green blossomed in his vision and he could hear loud cackling. Ugh. Sometimes, I really hate my life.

Harry sighed and stumbled out of bed. He quickly snatched his glasses and strode downstairs. To his surprise, none of the boys woke up. He certainly made enough noise. Although, Neville did snore a little bit louder. Harry shook his head. He didn't need to tell any of his classmates about the dreams.

They would laugh at him. He was sure of it.

Harry lounged in an armchair and gazed moodily into the fire. Well, although the day may not have started out great, at least he still had the Triwizard Tournament to look forward to. They were finally choosing the three Champions today.

Harry's eyes glistened with excitement and relief. For once, he wasn't going to be the center of attention. Three other poor saps would have to deal with it all. He was free. Plus, it would be really entertaining and fun to watch. His smile grew. Yes, this would be a great year.

There was no point in moping about that stupid dream. He refused to call it a nightmare anymore. Harry settled back into the cushions and felt his eyes close slowly.

Sleep came easily now.

….

"Today's the day!" Ron grinned and prodded Harry's shoulder. Hermione huffed but didn't look up from her book. Sensing an upcoming argument, Harry quickly drew his red-haired friend into a conversation.

"Yeah. Who do you think is going to get chosen from Durmstrang?" Harry looked over at the two tables where all of the foreign students were sitting. One of the Durmstrang pupils suddenly gazed up to meet his gaze. Harry shivered and quickly looked away. His eyes had been so dark…

"Victor Krum, of course! He's the best and youngest Quidditch player!" Ron exclaimed. His eyes became animated as he chattered on about statistics. Hermione rolled her eyes and placed her book on the table.

"Hermione, what's that book you're reading?" Harry attempted to divert Ron's attention from the sport. Even though he usually loved to talk about it with Ron, his stomach seemed to squirm uncomfortably as he thought about the Tournament. Why was that?

"Oh, it's all about antidotes for certain poisons. It's really quite intriguing…and look, there's this one poison which can make a person's vital functions collapse within an hour. Essentially, they'll be dead for an hour." She flipped through the pages. "However, their body starts working after that period of time. I think it's mainly used for kidnapping people. It makes it much easier." Harry nodded, only vaguely interested. He looked towards the staff table.

Dumbledore was sitting in the center, talking to McGonagall and Snape animatedly. Of course, Harry's favorite Potions teacher was scowling. He glanced over to see Mad-Eye Moody watching him. Harry tried not to shiver. For some reason, that particular professor made him feel strange. Even more than Snape, who wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to be around, either.

They stared at each other before Harry turned away. He rubbed his scar absentmindedly before delving back into the conversation.

…..

The one terrible thing about the Triwizard Tournament was the loss of Quidditch. Harry would miss the rush of adrenaline as he swooped down to catch the snitch. Still, a smile came to his face as he watched Dumbledore step towards the Goblet of Fire.

It was all so mysterious that a goblet could choose three worthy people. Sometimes, he had to remind himself just how much magic could do. And take…He briefly closed his eyes as he tried to hold back the sudden sense of grief. It had happened a while ago. There was no point in thinking about it now.

Harry snapped back to attention as he realized that Dumbledore had stopped speaking. Why was he so out of it today?

The fire changed to a light pink color. Harry watched in astonishment as a frilly paper floated down into Dumbledore's hand.

"From Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!" He watched as one girl stood up and walked to the front. All of the others looked sad and disappointed. A few were crying. Harry blinked in surprise. Why would anyone want to chosen? To him, it sounded dangerous, and he certainly didn't want to dive into danger willingly.

The fire turned a darker brown color. Dumbledore snatched another paper from the air and quickly read it.

"Victor Krum, from Durmstrang!" Most of the boys from the school started clapping as the tall boy stalked to the front. As he passed by Harry, he turned and gave a small smile. Harry watched in confusion as Hermione grinned back. He shrugged inwardly and went back to watching. It wasn't any of his business. Who would the Hogwarts Champion be?

"I knew Victor Krum would get it!" Ron triumphantly crowed. Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes. Even though he had fallen back asleep, he still felt rather exhausted. Suddenly, he just wanted this whole ceremony to be over.

There was a bright blue blaze before a paper shot out. Dumbledore gazed at the paper with twinkling eyes.

"From Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!" The Hufflepuffs burst into applause as the handsome boy strode towards the front. He seemed rather embarrassed. Harry smiled. He knew him from Quidditch, and Cedric seemed to be a decent sort of bloke.

"And that's all of the Champions!" With that, the three Champions and their Headmasters went into the room. Harry blinked sleepily. Great. Now he could go back to sleep.

However, just as Dumbledore was about to close the door behind him, another scrap of paper landed out of the now fiery red blaze. Harry frowned. What was the matter? Dumbledore bent down to pick up the piece of paper. His twinkling blue eyes dimmed as he read it several times.

With clear hesitation, he read it aloud.

"Harry Potter will be mine." And with that, everything turned to chaos.

There you go! :) Should this remain a mysterious one-shot, or what?