Disclaimer: Everything, everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters for short while.

Chapter 2

Harry felt his mind drifting off into nothingness. It wasn't like the controlling, soothing presence of the Imperius Curse upon the mind, or the blissful relaxation of the Dreamless Sleep Potion. No, this was just…nothing. It was similar to an Occlumency technique Harry had learned a while ago. His mental state kept getting carried away towards void, and emptiness seemed to envelope his subconscious. Suddenly, as if his brain was being portkeyed, he felt a tug on his mind, and his senses were pulled and jerked somewhere.

And, as abruptly as it had begun, reality swam into focus, and he heard someone's voice say, "…rry! Harry! Wake up! What's happened to you?" Slowly, he opened his eyes, and his vision started to adjust. Shaking his head, trying to clear the mental cobwebs, his awareness normalizing itself, his eyes rested on a person who had been dead to him for more than a century. Hermione Granger. Her chocolate-brown eyes were filled with concern (or was it fake concern?), and her hair was bushier than ever. Harry got up slowly and looked around. He was in the Gryffindor common room.

It had worked. It had actually worked. Or was it a hallucination? Drawing out his wand, he did a quick Tempus spell. 5.46pm, Monday 31st October, 1994. Yes, YES! He did a victory dance in his mind, never having truly believed that the spell would work. His jubilation was perhaps visible on his face, because Hermione clapped her hands in front of Harry's face. "Hello! Earth to Harry. Are you alright?" Harry's eyes once more settled on the Ravenclaw-ish Gryffindor. Before travelling back in time, he hadn't decided how he was going to tackle his so-called friends. Actually, he hadn't decided how he was going to handle anyone. Now however, he did some quick thinking, and replied back to Hermione, "I'm alright. I'll be back in sometime."

"Where are you going? It's almost dinner-time!", exclaimed Hermione. "Yes, yes. I know. I'll meet you in the Great Hall," said Harry, and without waiting for a reply, walked rapidly towards the dormitories. He almost sprinted up the stairs, and went inside the fourth-year boys' dormitory, which was thankfully empty. Stopping for a moment, Harry took a deep breath. Then, he did a victory jig around the dormitory, pumping his fists up in the air. It had worked! Although he had done careful research before beginning the process, he had very little hopes. Now however, after being back in time, he could begin to make things right. It was time to manipulate people the way they had manipulated him.

Checking the date once again, Harry decided that there was no better date he could have come back on. One of Riddle's Horcruxes was already destroyed, and hopefully Riddle would be destroyed too, by the end of the year. He had to meticulously plan everything, starting from today. Today was the date the Triwizard Champions would be announced, so he could forge alliances with the right people and alienate those he didn't want in his life. Namely three people- Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger.

After spending a few moments planning how things were going to happen once his name came out of the Goblet, Harry proceeded for dinner. The Great Hall was filled with students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Harry went and plopped himself between Neville and Parvati. Ignoring Ron's and Hermione's gestures for him to join them, Harry's eyes roamed towards the head table. Barty Crouch Jr., the man Polyjuiced as Alastor Moody, was seated chatting with Dumbledore. Hagrid was seemingly trying to talk to Madame Maxime, whereas Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were engaged in deep conversation. Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey were talking to each other, and Severus Snape and Igor Karkaroff sat imperiously, their eyes surveying the students.

Harry was feeling numb; all the people around him had been dead for a long time. The whole situation suddenly struck him with the speed of a freight train. He was back in time, granted a second chance and allowed to fix things. He now had the knowledge of the past, the present, and could determine how things would turn out. Never again would he bend to Dumbledore's and Voldemort's machinations, or fall prey to any deceit. He could fabricate his future, and design his own destiny. He could carve his own path, and decide his own fate. He won't be the rope in a tug of war between two senile old men; a Dark Lord and a Light Lord.

He maintained light conversation with Neville (who seemed surprised that Harry was talking to him instead of Ron and Hermione), all the while waiting in anticipation for the Goblet. Soon, dinner was done, and a palpable excitement filled the Great Hall. Not unlike Harry's previous timeline, Dumbledore instructed the soon-to-be-decided champions to assemble in the antechamber adjacent to the Great Hall. He swept his wand, dimming the lights, giving the Hall an eerie glow that cast shadows on the age-old walls. Harry leaned forward in anticipation, even though he knew what was going to happen.

Victor Krum, followed by Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory were elected Champions of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts respectively. The two wizards and witch walked off to the antechamber, amidst thunderous applause. As Dumbledore started speaking once again, the fateful moment finally came; the Goblet of Fire turned red once more. A long flame shot out of it, carrying with it a piece of parchment. Dumbledore seized it, held it, took a long pause and finally read out the name written on it.

"Harry Potter."

This was it, an important turning point in either timelines; a moment in time that would decide how his fate would shape out to be, depending solely on his reaction and how others would perceive it. Harry morphed his face to one of utter shock. He could feel hundreds of eyes on him; all of them judging him, assessing him, sizing him up. There was absolute silence in the hall, then "Harry Potter!" called Dumbledore once again. Harry let his shocked look dissolve to one of complete rage. "No!" said Harry, undisguised fury ringing in his voice. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet, and I won't compete in the tournament!" The Great Hall broke into whispers at this sudden proclamation. Dumbledore and the other professors appeared surprised at this outburst. "Mr. Potter…" began Professor McGonagall, but Harry decided to be adamant.

"I said no! Year after year, my life in this school is thrown in jeopardy, and I end up being the suspect in everything that happens around here!" Before anyone could stop him, Harry whipped out his wand, and intoned loudly. "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and magic that I did not enter my name in the Goblet of Fire for the Triwizard Tournament, nor did I ask an older person to do it. So mote be it!" There was a blinding flash of light, after which people saw that Harry was still standing. "Lumos," said Harry, and his wand lit up with the spell. "As you can clearly see, I have my life and magic intact. If I have another year of people accusing or abusing me, I shall withdraw from Hogwarts. This is the only warning you're going to get." Noxing his wand, he made a show of storming off to the antechamber, acutely aware, yet paying no heed to the abuzz Great Hall.

The three champions were assembled in the small chamber, the fires of the dying embers casting long shadows over the portraits hanging on the walls. Like his former timeline, it was Fleur who spotted him first, and asked, "What iz eet?" she asked. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

Harry shook his head in anger, which wasn't difficult to produce. "No," he said, glancing at the other champions. "My name came out of Goblet." The three looked at him, visibly astonished. Before they could say anything, however, Ludo Bagman rushed in the room. Bagman opened his mouth to say something, but Harry was having none of it. Sure, he was half-willing to be a participant in this sham of a tournament, just because he wanted to see Riddle die by the year end, but that didn't mean he was going to let people like Bagman and Crouch walk scot-free.

"Mr. Bagman, let me tell you once again what I told everyone back in the Hall. I. Did. Not. Enter. My. Name. In. The. Fucking. Tournament," said Harry, emphasizing on each word, his voice laced with power. "I never had, nor will I ever have any inclination or wish to take part in it. I trust you've taken precautions for something like this?" Bagman simply stuttered into silence at the question. He was saved by the arrival of the professors- Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, along with Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. Barty Crouch Sr. lurked in the background, looking like a vulture about to prey on the dying and the dead.

Immediately, Fleur sauntered on to her Headmistress, saying, "Madame Maxime! Zis leetle boy says 'ee is to compete too!" Harry felt a pang of annoyance on hearing those words, but he ignored it.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" asked an irate Madam Maxime.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, with an incensed look on his face. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

What followed after was the Headmasters of the two schools expressing their displeasure at the whole situation, with Snape commenting smartly, until Dumbledore (who was quiet and expressionless the whole time) finally turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"I think my magical oath would be sufficient to say that I most certainly did not enter my name in this accursed competition, Professor," said Harry sharply, gazing at all of them. "And I certainly do hope that all of you will make that abundantly clear to the whole school. I do not want a repeat of the second year."

"Potter!" snapped Snape, his face filled with fury, but eyes glowing with malicious glee. "How dare you talk to teachers like that! I knew you were an arrogant-" but he was interrupted by Dumbledore.

"That's enough, Severus." Dumbledore turned towards Harry, his eyes shining with an unknown expression in the firelight. "Harry, why did you take that magical oath in the Hall?" Maybe the man was troubled by Harry's statement of leaving the school.

"I thought I made that clear, Professor," said Harry, looking at Dumbledore with his eyes narrowed. "It was to let the school know that I've no intention to participate in this tournament. I wish to withdraw from it."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, young man," said Barty Crouch Sr., suddenly making his presence known. "Submitting your name and getting accepted for the Triwizard Tournament is tantamount to entering into a magically binding contract."

"And the only protection that this thing had was a stupid age line?" said Harry, keeping his expression disbelieving and his tone incredulous. "Professors, do you realize that we stay in a school full of smart kids? Any person of age could've written my name on a piece of parchment, crossed the age line, and easily dropped it in the Goblet?"

Nobody had an answer to that. In fact, all of them seemed to be astounded by his reasoning. Harry sighed at the stupidity of the magical populace in general.

"Professors, I trust you to make this clear to the school?" said Harry, looking specifically at Dumbledore and McGonagall. He felt an almost unnoticeably light Legilimency probe in his mind.

Dumbledore was bewildered at Harry's newfound sharpness and confidence. He had expected the boy to be frightened and looking for help. Instead, he radiating self-assurance and firmness. He decided to discreetly scan the boy's mind, and pushed forth a delicate probe. Albus Dumbledore was an expert in passive Legilimency, but Harry was a genius in Occlumency. He had a layer of fake thoughts that he projected outside of his actual mental shields; thoughts that Dumbledore found access to and found normal enough. Dumbledore's momentary nonplussed expression dissolved to a grave one.

"Rest assured, Harry. I will announce this to the school tomorrow. Meanwhile," Dumbledore said, turning towards Karkaroff and Maxime, "it seems like we have no choice but to accept this situation. From Hogwarts, both Cedric and Harry have been chosen champions, and so- "

"But Dumbly-dorr-"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it"

After politely waiting for a few moments, in which Olympe Maxime and Igor Karkaroff both glared at Dumbledore, Bagman, in his excited boyish manner, asked Barty to share the instructions regarding the first task of the tournament. This time, Barty Crouch Jr., the fake Moody, didn't feel the need to intervene in the conversations. He skulked in the shadows, his magical eye whizzing in place and his leg stump making a thunk sound every now and then. After the dour Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation had relayed the rules and regulations, and some chitchat from a bouncing Bagman later, everyone began exiting the room.

Harry and Cedric left the room together, neither speaking to each other for a few moments. Eventually, Cedric broke the silence.

"You know, Harry. Even though you've taken the magical oath, some people are still going to believe that you put your name in the Goblet."

"I know," replied Harry, frustration evident in his voice. "But this year, I'm not going to take crap from anyone. This includes folks from your house," he added, glancing at a surprised Cedric. "I've had enough of that in my second year."

They stopped at a point from where Cedric would walk in the directions of the Hogwarts kitchens, where the Hufflepuff dorms were located. Cedric was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I believe you, Harry."

Harry, a little astonished, looked at Cedric. As far as he could remember things from his previous timeline, Cedric hadn't believed him when Harry had mentioned that he didn't enter his name in the Goblet. What had changed now?

"Thank you, Cedric. If you don't mind me asking, what made you believe that I didn't enter my name?"

"I dunno, to be honest. Truth to be told, you've gotten yourself in so much shite all these years. You don't strike me as an attention-seeking glory hound that some people paint you to be. You already have enough fame from the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing as it is."

"Would you mind explaining all of this to your housemates? They won't listen to me, but they'll certainly listen to you."

Cedric grinned, then replied, "I promise, I'll try my best to convince them."

"Right, thanks. Good night, then," said Harry, and walked towards the marble staircase, his mind currently a hurricane of thoughts.

As he climbed up the steps, he reflected on the events of the evening. 'It seems like I still need to do a lot more convincing, even after the oath,' he thought. 'And a lot more planning needs to be done, starting from tonight.'

He reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was gossiping with a portrait-friend of hers. Ignoring their questions about the tournament, and having received the password from one of the prefects before leaving, Harry said, "Balderdash."

Harry turned a deaf ear to their rebukes, and entered the common room. As predicted, a raucous party was in full swing. Several people pulled him inside, bombarding him with questions. People were screaming, clapping and whistling. The Weasley twins were in their element, congratulating him and slapping him on the back. Harry tried to gather their attention, but in vain. He tried calling everyone to stop, to listen to him, but no one paid him heed. Finally, Harry had enough. Brandishing his wand, he let out a deafening blast from his wand. Immediately, the common room turned silent.

"Silence!" thundered Harry, anger coming off him in waves. The people nearest to him edged away in fear.

"Do any of you imbeciles not remember the oath I gave oh-so-publicly in the Great Hall? I DID NOT ENTER THE FUCKING TOURNAMENT!" roared Harry, his fury making people flinch.

"But Harry-" began Fred, but Harry rounded up on him.

"Fred, you've been warned once. All of you have been warned once, so don't make me repeat myself. This competition is dangerous, it's life threatening. It's meant for adult witches and wizards, not for a fourteen-year-old boy. People have died in the tournament in the past."

Harry's eyes flittered across the common room, making eye contact with most people. "I ask you once again. Haven't I already given an oath?"

There was silence, then Katie Bell said in a small voice, "You did, Harry."

"Then why does everyone think I entered my name?" asked Harry angrily. "I still remember my second year, during the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco. While the rest of the school painted me as the Heir of Slytherin and gave me a hard time, none of you voiced their support of me. I had honestly considered withdrawing from Hogwarts. Yes," he added, looking at their shocked faces. "I guarantee you, the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs are going to make things difficult this year too. And, as I've mentioned to Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff champion, I'm not going to tolerate any unpleasantness from anyone this year, and that includes all of you. I am not the Hogwarts champion, Cedric is."

Harry looked at them for a moment, shook his head, and made his way upstairs to his dorm. No one stopped him, nobody felt like dissuading him; not after that outburst at least.

Upon entering the dorm, he found only Ron was present, sitting on his bed. Not saying a word to him, Harry strolled to his bed, taking off his scarf and coat, moving busily around.

"So, congratulations," said Ron, with a strained smile.

"You believe I put my name in the Goblet, don't you? Even after the bloody oath," said Harry, without looking at the redhead.

"You must've used your Invisibility Cloak," said Ron, a slow grimace creeping in his tone.

Harry whirled around to stare at Ron. "This is it, Ron. This is the moment where you decide whether I'm your friend, or whether I'm an attention grabber. This is the only chance you're going to get."

Ron looked conflicted for a moment, before his face contorted into anger. "I'm not stupid. Everyone knows you entered your name, Potter!"

Harry became silent, mentally cheering that his subtle plan had worked. As predicted, the jealous brat had fallen prey to his own poisonous envy. Harry had been tempted to use Mind Altering charms, or Legilimency on the Weasley idiot and his sister, but refrained, as they were still children.

"Very well, Weasley," said Harry softly, his face set into an expressionless mask. "Henceforth, our so-called friendship comes to a close. Never say that I didn't warn you."

Not staying around to watch Ron's expression, or to hear him spluttering, Harry went to have a nice, hot shower.

Harry closed the hangings of his four-poster bed early, not wanting to talk to the other boys. One by one, they came in the dorm, talking softly. An hour or so later, Harry started to hear their gentle snores. Slowly, Harry got up and sat upright.

He had planning to do after all.