Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter One: The fifth ChampionWarnngs; Refer to Chapter One: The fifth ChampionNotes: Refer to Chapter One: The fifth Champion

CHAPTER TWO: DIMENSION HOPPING

Aang followed the ther boy mechanically, still in a daze about where he was. He went through the door out of the gigantic room he was in and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of different oddly dressed people. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

He watched, eyes filled with both curiosity and apprehension as a woman flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a man with a walrus moustache. The woman started whispering in his ear. The avatar knew immediately that he wasn't in his world. He has never seen a person in a picture move and he was 100 years – technically 12 but that's not important.

Three people were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. A boy that reminded Aang of prince Zuko, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. A weird coloured haired boy was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. A weirder coloured haired girl looked around when the lightning scarred boy in front of him wearing circular sticks on his face walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

Aang didn't know who she was talking to but he was willing to guess - and he knew he was right - that she was talking to the circular stick wearing boy. Since he didn't reply the question must have not be important.

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and a bubbly middle-aged man that reminded him oddly of Ty Lee entered the room. He took the lightning scarred boy and the avatar by their arms and led them forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing the boy's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen...lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth and fifth Triwizard champion?"

The Zuko impersonator straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed the scarred and bald boys. The weird coloured haired boy looked nonplussed. He looked from the bubbly man to lightning boy to the bald kid and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Silver haired girl however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" the bubbly man who Aang learnt was called Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Harry must be the lightning boy's name.

They all had various reaction to the statement.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

If this Harry is too young, what will they make of him, the avatar wandered

"Well...it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet...I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage...It's down in the rules, you're obliged...Harry will just have to do the best he can do, not to mention our newcomer," his already wide smile widened more as he stared at Aang. "The both will have to work hard if-"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: An old man, followed closely by a grouchy man, an irate looking man, a giant of a woman, an old woman, and a surly looking man with greasy hair. Aang heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before the old woman closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said the silver haired girl at once, striding over to the giant woman. "Zey are saying zat zes little boys are to compete too!"

He was an old man for Kami's sake, if he wasn't trapped in that iceberg, he would have been 112. Old enough to be her great grandfather.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her head brushed the candle-filled decoration.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said the irate man. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed three champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand was resting upon the silver haired girl shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said the irate man, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said the greasly haired one softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here -"

"Thank you, Severus," said the old man firmly, and the severus guy went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

IT's so confusing to know whose who, but he has almost gotten it. The giant woman was Madame Maxime or something, the irate man was Karkaroff, the surly looking man was Severus and the old man was Dumbly-dorr or was it Dumbledore. This people had weird names.

Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore.

"No," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Severus was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said the old woman sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said the old woman angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

The avatar felt like he was invincible. Haven't they noticed him here. Seriously, he got a world to save.

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at the grouchy man who Aang finally learnt his name, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in a curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

What are they talking about. Magic isn't real, right…Right?

A really ugly guy had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Aang could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but...funny thing...I don't hear him saying a word..."

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out the silver haired girl, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man...what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons.

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament...I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember...

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Aang wondered what this whole word-play is for, he didn't understand anything that's going on here. Where's Sokka when you need him? Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

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

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes...the first task..."

"Wait!" Aang shouted, immediately halting all actions going on in the room. He was livid; he was brought to this place by the Lion Turtle for what reason? He didn't know and this people completely forgot about him. No more. "I need someone to tell me where I am."

Bagman clapped his hands. "Oh yes, our fifth champion. Sorry I forgot." he placed a hand on the bald avatar's back. "May I introduce you to our fifth champion, Aang Pippinpaddleopsicopolis. "

"Zee zere iz even a fifth champion. How preposterous." Madame Maxime burst out. Karkaroff was about to continue for her when he was stopped by what Dumbledore said next.

"He is a fifth champion, I agree. But he isn't for Hogwarts. Matter-of-fact, I haven't seen anyone like him or hear a name like his in all my year of teaching."

Moody crept forward, brandishing a stick threatening in front of him. He spoke out loud but focused on the bald kid and when he spoke, his voice was laid thick with suspicion. "Who are you?"

Before meeting Azula, he would have been scared. Now after meeting her, fighting her and getting killed by her, he wasn't even fazed by the amateur scare ploy. He guessed he needed to come clean if he needs them to help him.

"I am Avatar Aang!" He slammed the butt of his staff on the ground with enough force to dislodge his animal partner.

No recognition. Maybe he he was in a remote part of his world.

Maybe he was in a remote part of his world. "You know, master of the four elements. The bridge between the spirit realm and mortal realm." This just seemed to confuse them more. He sighed.

"What do you mean by 'Avatar'?" asked Harry to Aang.

"An 'Avatar' is known as the bridge between the spirit and mortal realm. The Avatar's job is to bring balance to the world anyway he can - even killing." he sounded distraught towards the end of the sentence. "And I am need back in my world right now."

"You mean the Goblet of Fire is capable of 'dimensional travel'." Bagman sounded joyous at the news.

"No, I don't think so. I think the Lion-Turtle brought me here using this Goblet of Fire as a medium." Aang corrected, tapping into his really used monk wisdom.

Everyone apart from the Avatar and Momo unanimously decided to not mention anything on the supposed Lion-Turtle. Maybe it really does exist. They did just found out that there are multiple worlds out there apart from theirs.

The old woman decided to ask the question that has been bothering her ever since. "How old are you?"

"Well…I am 12." he responded nervously.

If Harry is too young to compete, what will they say for him.

"But I am not weak, I can protect myself. I am the Avatar!" he hurriedly exclaimed to the distraught people.

Bagman coughed in hopes of gaining everyone's attention. Successful, he reminded Crouch about his duty.

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Aang thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told the avatar, Harry, the Zuko impersonator and the silver haired girl, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...very important...

Aang raised his hands up reminiscent of a student raising his hand in a silent bid for permission to ask a question. He took the silence as the permission to ask his question. "Since I came here. I have wondered why you call yourselves wizards and carry sticks." he pointed at the stick, moody was still brandishing.

They were taken aback by the question. Dumbledore chose to answer it.

" 'Wizard' is a term for male practitioners of the magic arts. Female practitioners are called 'Witches'. The stick is our 'foci' also known as wands."

They chose to ignore the kid's bumbling laughter at their biggest weakness.

" Back to the topic at hand," Barty started once the laughter has died down to a chuckle. "The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore.

"I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

This Dumbledore fellow has many names: Dumbly-dorr, Dumbledore and now Albus.

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I've left young Weatherby in charge...Very enthusiastic...a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around the silver head girl's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Aang could hear them both talking very fast in a weird language as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to the Zuko wannabe, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Aang saw Harry glance at Cedric, the weird coloured haired boy, who nodded, and they left together.

The old man turned to Aang, a smile still on his face. "Please follow Harry, avatar. He will lead you to a free room you could use."

The Large Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality. Aang followed Harry at a sedate pace, listening in on his conversation while scratching the flying lemur behind its rather large ear.

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked.

"So...tell me..." said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit by torches. "How did you get your name in?"

"I didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah...okay," said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him. "Well...see you, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, he started to climb the marble ones.

Aang could see that Harry was deep in thoughts so he didn't bother striking a conversation with him.

Instead, he began thinking of his world. Is it already time for the Sozin's Comet? Or as it already passed? How are his friends? How is Katara? He just couldn't bear the thoughts of anything bad happening to them.

Still lost in thoughts, he failed to notice his escort abrupt stop and so he slammed into his back sending them sprawling to the ground.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room. Although grudgingly, seeing as he was followed by a non-Gryffindor.

The blast of noise that met both boy's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked them backward. Next thing he knew, Harry was being wrenched inside the room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of the Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed a red haired; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared another red haired. He must be a twin.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how -"

But a heavily tanned girl swooped down upon him; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor -"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked a girl he knew nothing about.

"We've got food, Harry, come and have some -"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast -"

Aang has bee in his shoes so he knew how annoyed he must be that nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate...a boy he didn't know (welcome to the club) had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands...Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet...

"I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened."

But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all.

"I'm tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George - I'm going to bed -"

Harry ran up the staircase leading to an empty room with multiple beds. Aang followed closely thankful that they didn't seem to pay him any attention as all eyes were fixated on the retreating back of Harry.

He found Harry talking to another red haired boy (how many are they!) lying on a bed in the otherwise empty room, fully dressed. He closed the door quietly behind him so as not to disrupt their conversation.

"Where've you been?" Harry said.

"Oh hello," said the red haired boy.

He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. The avatar suddenly became aware that he was wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner. Harry hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. The red haired lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry struggle to remove it.

"So," he said, when Harry had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace.

"Well...no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you use - the Invisibility Cloak?"

"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," said Harry slowly.

Aang could sense that this argument could escalate quickly so he made himself smaller, clamping a hand over Momo's mouth as he did so.

"Oh right," said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak...because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"

"Listen," said Harry, "I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"What would they do that for?"

"I dunno," said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, "To kill me."

Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.

"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either..."

"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry.

"Yeah, okay," said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you...I'm not stupid, you know."

"You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped.

"Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something."

He wrenched the hangings shut around his bed, leaving Harry and Aang standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the most confusing person the young avatar has ever laid eyes on. He stood there wondering when Harry will go to his bed or at least show him his. A horrible realization crossed across his face and he immediately knew that he was going to stay there for a very very long time.

He sighed. At least, he will learn how to sleep standing.

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