Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Here's Harry ... or to be exact here's Frank the gardener for the moment. Harry will back soon, though.

A/N: Here's Harry ... or to be exact here's Frank the gardener for the moment. Harry will back soon, though.

Harry No. 5 and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 1: The Riddle House

The Riddle house was a leftover from a long ago very different time, a manor house intended for a single family and their servants. It is therefore understandable that it hadn't been inhabited for a long time, though somebody apparently still owned it as there still was a single servant left to tend the garden and it hadn't been torn down yet.

Even Frank, the old gardener, himself didn't know who the owner was, though. He received his monthly pay punctually nevertheless and that was all he felt he needed to know.

The last owners that he had ever actually met had been Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, very rich owners of a company that produced uniforms, and their son Master Tom who had been supposed to inherit the company someday. Mrs. Riddle had been the only one of the three that had ever worked as far as Frank knew. At least she had gone to town to check on the company once a week. The men had only ever stayed at the manor ordering the servants about and doing nothing. It would have been scandalous if they hadn't been rich.

And then one day all three Riddles had been found dead in the house. Frank had been arrested on suspicion of having murdered them, but been released again once it had been determined that there was no proof that the Riddles had been murdered at all.

Frank had returned to the house and his fellow servants to work for the heirs, if they wanted him, but apparently they were too busy working and never showed up. The servants had soon grown bored of having nothing much to do and moved on to other jobs. Their positions had been left vacant, but still Frank's wages had kept coming and nobody had even suggested that he should leave.

Not that he hadn't tried just as much as the rest of them at the time. But he supposed the fact that he had been arrested on suspicion of murder had been too much against him. Nobody had hired him and he hadn't wanted to go to an unemployment camp. It had to be better to stay at the old manor house even if he was all alone there.

By now Frank was of course old enough to move into a retirement home instead, but he wasn't quite sure whether he'd like that either. He had been living entirely alone for about fifty years now. He was used to it. Somehow he didn't think he'd take well to being herded about by nurses together with a lot of other old people.

Of course he'd have to make up his mind and go sometime soon. He was getting a little slower every year. There would come a day when he could no longer take care of himself and there was nobody here to help him.

And then one night there were lights in the old house and Frank went inside to find out what was going on and found a horrible monster that could talk with snakes and was plotting murder.

Unfortunately his old body was no longer fast and agile enough to make it back outside and alert the police.

On the other hand, Frank thought as the monster pointed its deadly stick at him, maybe it was for the best that he would be spared the home after all. He only hoped that the plot to kill that poor Harry Potter whoever he might be would fail even though Frank could do nothing to stop it.