MERRY CHRISTMAS

I'm not Christian, but I got a Galaxy S3 for Christmas, and I've been having a good luck streak for the past few months, so I thought why not? So, I worked on it, finished the chapter today, and, well, here it is!

Anyways, I was having a bit of trouble writing the after they got to Australia part, so I've decided to cut to Harry's travel to the UK and then include flashbacks back to Harry's journey to Australia in subsequent chapters. If that bothers any of you, let me know. I probably can't do anything to change it at this point, but if I get a lot of negative response for this, I guess I will. Thank you.

And I'm not going to portray the boy-who-lived as a mindless powerless idiot. Not only is that cliche, but that's just taking the easy way out.

Finally, 52 reviews for 1.5 chapters, are you guys on steroids or something. Seriously, that's way more than I ever expected. Keep it up, I guess.

Chapter 2: To England

England (2012)

"POTTER STINKS" a tall seventh year Slytherin shouted at an annoyed Alan Potter.

"Yeah, well screw you too," Potter replied. He was fed up with everyone's treatment of him over the past few days. Normally he was the star of the school, the one everyone looked up to, but now, he had a worse social standing than Neville Longbottom. Longbottom, the kid who he used to make fun of for being fat and pudgy, was now cooler than him. And it wasn't even his fault too.

Of course, he had considered putting his name into the Goblet of Fire. He knew that he could defeat the crowd's favorite to win, Cedric Diggory. After all, he was the boy-who-lived. Why wouldn't he be Hogwarts champion? But he had tried as hard as he could to get his name into that Goblet of Fire, and he had failed. Miserably.

And then the goblet reveals four names. Four! And since Harry Potter was dead, he was the goto Hogwarts champion. Which normally, Alan would enjoy, after all, he loved fame and loved the attention. But people were blaming him for putting his name in the goblet, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Cedric Diggory kept glaring at him, and the normally docile Hufflepuffs hexed him repeatedly in the hallways and between classes. And the press had a field day on that too; normally Alan was written about in a good light, but it seemed that the Prophet wanted to mix things up by denouncing Potter as a cheat and a liar. Ron, his best friend, had abandoned him, leaving him all alone to face the first task. And the annoying know-it-all, Granger, kept insisting on helping him; didn't she know he didn't need help. Every year he topped her in the exams, the ones that mattered, namely Transfiguration and Charms. Well he would show them; he would show them all the Potter skills. He did defeat Voldemort as a child, winning a silly tri-wizard tournament would not prove to be a challenge.

And when everyone came crying back to him saying how sorry they were for thinking he entered the tournament, he would take back his rightful position. He was king of Hogwarts; only him, no other. Cedric Diggory be damned, he was going to regain his throne.

But for now, he would have to wonder who to take to the Yule Ball. As a champion, he had known about it ahead of time, and he realized that with his lowered social standing, no one would want to go with him. He might even have to take- dare he say it- a loser like Granger. Or even worse, Loony Lovegood. No, he couldn't, he wouldn't. His standing would drop so low at that point, he would be worse than Colin Creevy. COLIN.

No, he had to regain his popularity back fast, so that he could get with one of the hot girls like Cho Chang or Lavender Brown. And if what he had heard about the Yule Ball was correct, second base was a minimum.

And that brought him back to his original quandary. He had to emerge victorious in the first task, so that people saw him as he rightfully was: Hogwarts's champion, Hogwarts's king. He had to defeat the Bulgarian menace, Krum, and the French chick, Bedel. And maybe he could get with Bedel after, she was insanely hot and pretty rich too.

Unfortunately, bringing back victory relied on his knowledge, which meant that he needed to head down to the library and study. The Moody man was giving him the creeps, he kept following Alan around, asking him how he was doing with the tournament. If Alan didn't know any better, he would have thought that Moody was a stalker, or one of his fans. But Moody did give him some valuable advice. His one major strength, above all, was flying, and he knew that the task had to do with dragons from what Hagrid had told him. So, all he had to do was summon his broom from the stands, and outfly the dragon. It should have been a piece of cake.

But Alan couldn't risk it, he had to prepare for every possible scenario. Despite his arrogance, when Alan put his mind to something, there was nothing that could stop him from achieving it. That was how he defeated Granger in charms and transfiguration three years in a row, that was how he saved the philosopher's stone, learned how to cast a patronus, and defeated the basilisk, and that was how he was going to come first in the first task. And doing that would require learning all about how to defeat a dragon. So Alan hit up the library, and started studying up dragons.

Alan woke up at seven p.m. after falling asleep reading about the Conjunctivitis curse, a curse that could be aimed at a dragon's eyes in order to make it blind. He realized that the Conjunctivitis curse combined with his broom strategy would be the perfect plan to defeat the dragon. So he headed off to dinner, a bit late, but he didn't really care; after all, the Hogwarts champion did get special privileges that included not showing up to pretty much whatever he wanted to. He didn't even have to take the tests at the end of the year; he could just waive them and take fifth year classes. Not that Alan would ever do that of course, Granger would never let him live it down.

He leisurely walked over to the open Great Hall, and immediately noticed that something was off. The normally loud noises of the chatter between students during the meals was not present; instead, it seemed that one unidentifiable voice was addressing the Hogwarts population. Rushing off to the great hall not to miss the speech, Alan could barely make out what the voice was saying. He opened the large doors to the Great Hall, and immediately all eyes turned toward him. The loud noise that the doors made trumped the quiet chatter going on in the background during the man's speech. But Alan didn't care about that, he held the gaze of the most beautiful woman on the planet. And he resolved that he had to have her. For a moment, everything was still, than he saw Dumbledore turn back to the man standing in the center of the great hall.

"Just who the hell are you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, you don't recognize me?" the man said. "My name is Valamyre, though that will probably sound unfamiliar to you. Previously, my name was Harry, Harry Potter." He glanced up at the staff table to take in their response to his name. A red-headed witch, no doubt Lily Evans, gave a soft gasp at hearing his name, and refused to meet his eyes. Valamyre had previously addressed the Australian public, revealing his true identity and telling them that he would be traveling to England in order to take care of business there. After that, Anna had decided to go with him, as she didn't want to be away from him, and she was holding onto his hand at the moment. Valamyre wasn't known as the ruler of Australia outside of Australia, so his identity would be safe, and Valamyre didn't think he could go through using the name Harry Potter on a daily basis. He had cut all ties to that identity, and in turn, the name. Valamyre thought back to the day when he learnt Anna's true name.

"Hey Val," Anna said to Valamyre. It was the day before they made landfall in Australia, and Valamyre had grown very close to Anna. Despite her somewhat snarky exterior, Anna was everything that Valamyre always wanted in a friend. She was funny, intelligent, nice, and above all, trustworthy. The two were sleeping next to each other in two separate sleeping bags, staring up at the stars and resting. If the two were a bit older, it would actually be quite romantic.

"Yeah," Valamyre responded.

"I think that we should get to know each other," she said.

"We do know each other," Valamyre said.

"No, like get to know each other for real. We are best friends, and I think that we should share our true identity with each other. I'll start," she said. She took a deep breath of air, then said, "My real name is Fleur Delacour."

"My real name is Valamyre," Valamyre said. "I have cut all ties to any former identity that I may have had. But my former name was Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter!" Anna exclaimed. "You must know the British celebrity, Alan Potter!"

"He's my brother. Why'd you think I ran away," Valamyre said.

"Why did you run away?" Anna asked.

"Well, my birth parents, for I do not consider them parents, never really acknowledged my presence. They were never there for me, they only cared about Alan. I was never abused, but I just couldn't be isolated from them, you know. Growing up, my only friends were the books around me. I was largely ignored by every person in my life; the only reason adults would talk to me would be to ask where Alan was. They forgot my birthday every year, they never listened to what I wanted to do, well I guess I just didn't want to be there anymore. I just didn't want to be alone, with no friends, no parents, all alone." he said, absorbed in his own thoughts.

"But you have me," Anna said. "And you'll never be alone again."

"That's right," Valamyre agreed. "I'll never be alone again. So, Fleur Delacour, that's a pretty fancy name. Why did you run away?" he asked.

"It has nothing to do with why you ran away; I was never forgotten, always loved. No, I ran away from home because of what I am. Tell me, Valamyre, what do you know about veela?" she asked.

"Veela? Well, they are generally feared by the wizarding public because they have some sort of an allure that attracts males, making them do stupid things. It is said that stronger wizards can see through veela allures. I personally found that something doesn't add up in wizarding descriptions. They tend to blame the veela for the problems of wizards." Valamyre said.

"Well, I am a veela," Anna said. "Veela are different than how they describe veela in the books. There are no half-veela or quarter-veela, for there are no male veela, so how could there possibly be any full veela if the books were correct? Veela are heavily alienated from society because of their allure. While in the UK, they are slightly segregated against, in France, they are completely equal to wizards and witches. That's not the problem. The problem is that veela are lusted after by boys, lots of them. And some veela take it in stride; they string many boys along, only to break all of their hearts. But I can't do that. And every day, my parents and my friends tell me how pretty I am. They don't know the half of it; I'd gladly trade away any beauty I had in order to be normal. Being a veela isn't a gift, it's a curse. And soon all my friends will grow distant from me because of what I am. Or they would, if I hadn't run away."

"Okay, so why Anna?" Valamyre asked.

"Anna is a plain name, it's a normal name. Fleur Delacour, that sounds like some sort of bad rhyme. I'd rather have a simpler name." she said.

"I see," Valamyre said.

"Beauty is not a gift; it is a curse," Anna repeated. "I can't be loved for who I am, only for my beauty."

"I'm sure that some day you'll find someone who loves you for your personality, not your beauty," Valamyre said.

"One can only hope," Anna mused. "Why Valamyre?" she asked.

"Made it up," Valamyre said. "Well, we should probably get some sleep. Big day tomorrow." The two slept with the comfort that they were with someone they could trust.

Of course, Anna became much more to him than just a friend. But Valamyre stopped his musing and turned back to Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter! Harry, m'boy, you're alive!" he exclaimed.

"Three things, Dumbledore," Valamyre said. "First, my name is Valamyre, not Harry. Second, if my name were Harry, you would not have permission to call me that. And third, I am not, nor will I ever be, your boy."

"Har-" Dumbledore began, but stopped under Valamyre's tough gaze. "Very well, Valamyre. How are you alive?"

"Why did you assume I was dead?" Valamyre asked.

"How did you survive so long on your own? Where did you go? What did you do?" he asked.

"I went to Australia, met my mentor Zephyr, and stayed with him until Alexander was overthrown in 2010. After that, I was hired to teach at AMA, Australian Magical Academy." Valamyre said. It was true, though only partially. After the war, he became a guest professor in his spare time at AMA.

"What did you teach?" Dumbledore asked.

"A course called Applied Magic." Valamyre said.

"Applied Magic? What's that?" a curious Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well, the class is a requirement for students who want to get their SMD-" he began.

"SMD?" Dumbledore asked.

"Secondary Magical Degree." he said. Seeing their blank faces, he continued. "In the Australian schooling system, after the first five years of schooling, you take the MET's in your chosen subjects. After that, assuming you scored Acceptable or higher in at least four of the MET's, you will receive your Primary Magical Degree. Then, you may choose to major in a specific subject, and sixth and seventh year courses go much more indepth than first through fifth year courses. But, you choose a major, you study your butt off, and hopefully you get your Secondary Magical Degree. Now, I taught Applied Magic, which was a requirement for anyone who wanted to get their SMD in magical engineering. After receiving a Secondary Magical Degree, students may opt for a tertiary or quaternary magical degree, or they may choose to exit school and go make a living. Seriously, England has none of that?"

"What made you qualified to teach a seventh year course? You should be in your seventh year yourself," McGonagall said.

"You are talking to the inventor of the only protection amulet in existence," Valamyre unveiled. He had always had a flair for the dramatic, and loved revealing information about himself slowly.

"Protection Amulet? What protection amulet?" Dumbledore asked.

"Try to throw a spell at me," Valamyre said. "Or shoot me with a gun. You can't, my protection amulet draws from my own magic to protect me, deflecting all bullets or projectiles and conjuring walls to block all spells. I can only be affected by the most basic forms of magic."

"I find that hard to believe," McGonagall said.

"Then by all means. Attack me," Valamyre said. McGonagall drew her wand and shot a quick Stupefy at Valamyre, only for a wall to be conjured right in front of the Stupefy, blocking it from hitting him and vanishing immediately after its task was done.

"The amulet is equipped with a supercomputer. It knows what to do. I don't even have to fight anymore." Valamyre said.

"That's quite an accomplishment, Valamyre, but that is drawing back from the matter at hand. What are you doing here?" Dumbledore asked.

"I believed I was entered into some sort of magical device known as the goblet of fire." he said.

"You were," Dumbledore agreed. "And if you do not compete, you will lose your magic."

"I find that hard to believe," Valamyre said. "If this goblet had the power to strip contestants of their magic against their will, than why did you not just stick Voldemort's name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"Well but-" Dumbledore began.

"No, it is clear that the Goblet of Fire cannot have that power, or else it would be the most powerful artefact in the universe. However, if it is true that a magical contract was created by the Goblet of Fire, then it is clear that the magical contract could not have been made by me, as it is impossible to make a magical contract on someone else's behalf. The most likely scenario is that someone created a magical contract with the Goblet of Fire saying that I would compete. If so, then I have no obligations to compete in the tri-wizard tournament, and whoever entered me into the Goblet of Fire would lose his or her magic if I do not compete. May I inspect the Goblet of Fire?" Valamyre asked.

"You may," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the center podium where the goblet was resting.

Valamyre stared at it for a couple of seconds, then cast a few revealing charms on the goblet itself. "Interesting," he said. "It seems that the Goblet of Fire works on an intent based system. When you enter a person's name into the Goblet of Fire, the act of entering the name signifies that you are making a magical contract that the person would compete if chosen. Now in most cases, people enter their own names into the Goblet, which means that they're making a magical contract on their own behalf. But, it also seems that my hypothesis is correct. So someone entered my name into the Goblet of Fire, and since I have no obligation to compete, I want to know who did it."

"Who did what?" Dumbledore asked.

"Who entered my name into the Goblet of Fire," Valamyre replied.

"How can we possibly know who entered your name?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well fine then. I just won't compete, and the person who entered my name will lose his or her magic." Valamyre said. "And then it should be fairly obvious to deduce who entered my name into the Goblet. Or someone could just come out with it, and maybe I'll be nice and compete in this silly tournament."

"Valamyre, you cannot possibly expect someone to come out with this information." Dumbledore said.

"Fine, then I won't compete," Valamyre retorted.

"You cannot possibly let an innocent person die," Dumbledore said.

"I have nothing against the act of committing suicide, or in this case, loss of magic. It is not my problem if someone threatens to kill himself if I do not do an action that they require. I really do not care. The fact that I am willing to compete in this tournament if I find out who put my name into the Goblet shows that I am an extremely benevolent wizard." Valamyre said. "So, I repeat again. Who put my name into the Goblet of Fire. Speak now, or lose your magic."

"I did," a lady on the staff table admitted. The Hogwarts population gasped, for that lady was none other than Muggle Study's professor, Lily Potter.

"You!" Valamyre angrily enunciated.

"Yes," she said.

"Why?" he asked. "I had escaped your grasp six years ago. I don't want to be anywhere near you."

"Harry-" Lily began.

"It's Valamyre," Valamyre said.

"You'll always be Harry Potter," Lily argued.

"I can be whatever the hell I want to be, and you have no say in it," Valamyre said.

"Har-" Lily said.

"Call me Valamyre or I'm leaving," Valamyre said.

"H-" Lily began

"Va-la-myre," Valamyre said. "It's really not that hard."

"Valamyre," Lily relented. "I'm sorry, we're all sorry. I needed to find you, I needed to know whether you were alive or not."

"Yeah," Valamyre said. "So you decided to entire my name into the Goblet of Fire on the off-chance that I'd actually hear the news if I had gotten selected. Now I know that you would think that a magical contract would form between me and the goblet, so you'd potentially risk my life in order to know whether I'm alive or not."

"But-" Lily said.

"NO, you forgot about me, I left, that's it. You sticking my name into the Goblet of Fire has nothing to do with that. I'm never going to be your son again. I'll compete in this tournament because I don't want you to die, but that's about it." he said.

"Who's that girl?" she asked, finally realizing that Valamyre brought someone. It seemed that in Valamyre's presence, with his whole revelation of his previous name, Anna was forgotten by most of the population of Hogwarts.

"She is my girlfriend," Valamyre said, guarded. "Anna."

"Well, Valamyre," Dumbledore said. "That's all great, but you have just interrupted our dinner. You may stay in the Gryffindor dorms-"

"Gryffindor? Why Gryffindor?" Valamyre asked.

"All Potters are Gryffindors," Dumbledore said.

"Well I am not a Potter," Valamyre retorted.

"Either stay in Gryffindor tower or leave." Dumbledore roared.

"I hold all the cards, old man. I leave, she dies." Valamyre said, jerking his thumb toward Lily.

"Valamyre, you can't honestly-" Dumbledore began.

"We've had this conversation already. She entered my name into the goblet, she pays the price. I'm actually doing her quite the favor, believe it or not." Valamyre said.

"Very well, where do you want to stay?" Dumbledore asked.

"Hmm, from what I've heard, Slytherin would seem like the best house. Too bad half of them are poser death-eater wannabees." he said.

"And I've heard that Gryffindor is half-filled with brainless foolhardy idiots," Anna said.

"So it's between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff." he said. "I'd rather go to Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff though fine, is a bit too- what's the word- Gryffindorish for lack of a better word, for my tastes."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Take a seat at the Ravenclaw table, I will ask the house-elves to prepare your sleeping arrangements. You shall be bunking with the seventh years, correct."

"Fine," Valamyre said. "Please prepare one large bed, Anna and I will be sharing."

"The dorms are gender-specific; we could give you a bed in the married couple rooms," Dumbledore explained. Valamyre seemed like quite the powerful young wizard if his demonstration with the amulet was to be taken into account, and if what he said was true, he would be phenomenal. In addition, his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, which meant he at least had to be competent. Even if his attitude needed to be worked on, Valamyre could be a great servant of the light. He could also be a future death-eater; he would have to make sure that didn't happen. Dumbledore needed to gain Valamyre's trust.

"Fine," Valamyre said.

"Very well, shall we commence the feast," Dumbledore said. Seeing no objections, he toasted to Valamyre's arrival, and sat everybody down.

Alan was not happy with the way this was playing out. Now, his older brother had returned, with his girl. It didn't matter that he had just seen her five minutes ago; she was going to be his. She was the most beautiful girl that Alan had ever seen, and he would find some way to take her from his older brother. He would start by beating Harry in the tri-wizard tournament.

And who did Harry even think he was. Calling himself Valamyre, pretending he was superior to everyone else. He would always be Harry, his loser older brother who James and Lily never loved, who's face he could always rub his stuff into. He would never be better than Alan. "Just see, little Harry," Alan thought. "Soon everything you've ever loved will be snatched from you, just as you snatched the attention from me. I will have your girl, I will have the tri-wizard cup, and I will have your title. By the time I'm done with you, Valamyre will be a distant memory. You'll be the loser Harry Potter again. Just wait and see."

Valamyre was oblivious to his younger brother's musings as he took a seat at the Ravenclaw table and greeted a few familiar faces from the kidnapping incident. As the feast commenced, he made a few acquaintances with the Ravenclaw members, and learnt about the school's workings.

AN: Please tell me what you think of this chapter. Honestly, I don't think it was as good as my other chapters, and I edited it a few times, but I'm just leaving it at this. Thank You, and have a good holiday season.