He woke up randomly. It always happened. He was too jumpy in his early days of Stalking, and as a result it made his sleep patterns finicky. Every morning, near dawn, the Marked one would play with the antenna on his radio, flicking the dials on it back and forth, looking for a signal. He picked up signals. That was almost a certainty. But he was looking for special signals, ones usually distorted or unusual. A few times in the Zone, the man even had to decode broadcasts from number stations. The stations didn't stay up long, they never did. Something happens to them, mid-broadcast, and they never come on the air again. It didn't really matter what happened to the stations; their owners got the message out and left before they were tracked down. By the time the towers were destroyed, the information had already gone out, and Strelok was on his way to meet Barkeep in Rostok.

He still looked for them. He always will. Maybe it was leftover from his brainwashing, but the man kept to his routine. After about an hour of going through both AM and FM, he pressed the 'OFF' switch on the device. Around now was when the Goblin Colony sent their weekly messenger. He met up with the Russian first, as a matter of business, and then checked individually with each Goblin. Afterwards, they shared whiskey. The kind that burned your throat and left your stomach in a pleasant glow. It also happened to be the kind they had found from the holding camps.

During their time together, the kind old Goblin shared stories in his garbled tongue. It was evident from the way he'd wave his short arms and change his voice. Strelok never understood it, but he listened, hinting a smile at the right moments and a frown at the wrong moments. He looked forward to its visit. He learned what the Goblin called itself during one of them. In their tongue, he was known as a bunch of symbols and sounds humans could never replicate. In short, everyone called him Torch. And Torch the Goblin was pleasant. It was definitely something else, to see a kind and happy Goblin like him. He was always bumbling about and saying something. He reminded him of a worker bee.

When the pack merged with the Colony, they rejoiced at seeing their brothers. And Torch was the happiest he'd been in a long time. He brought another, younger Goblin with him. Strelok learned that the young Goblin was his grandson. He acted like his grandfather, too. Together, the two could bring up anyone's spirits. When the car worked itself up, they were there to somehow calm it down. One time, they even managed to make it shoot wiper fluid!

When it wasn't having a tantrum or being reassured, the Ford was gathering intel. Hiding as a regular car on the side of a street, it listened in and heard a great many things, snagged a few papers, then snuck off and flew back.

The car went through the trouble of getting the old messenger Goblin to translate using magic during a checkup.

That was how Strelok discovered that Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch weren't taking chances. They stopped contact with the shady company that bought and held Goblins, and started another project altogether. No Galleons swayed Ludo's judgment this time, to the fury of the heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

What the project was, they'd have to find out.

xxx

Harry spent a total of three days in the Hospital Wing. Thankfully, it wasn't during the weekend, so Professor Moody wouldn't get upset. The paranoid man got upset anyway, after learning Harry got taken down with a simple Stunner.

The boy had finally given up on his friends. He waited longer for Hermione, as she was smarter and kept her cool, but she didn't budge either. He had to give the Gryffindors credit. Whatever way they stood, they were steadfast.

Strelok stopped in on his third morning and dropped off the documents that were temporarily translated for him. Harry skimmed them as quickly as he could, wary of his surroundings. After a grim nod, the papers were snatched up by a floating hand. If you were to move the curtains at this very moment, you'd see a small boy making weird gestures to the air; but his mentor got his implications and dropped a marker on his lap.

Harry drew crude things resembling blueprints, and later went to the bathroom to wash it off.

xxx

At the new factory building that Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch conducted their work in, all was quiet. Nobody came to the place apart from them. As such, Bagman liked to use it for things not work-related. Sometimes, he invited friends over. Crouch tried to reprimand his partner, saying "Ludo, we came here to not be targets!" In Crouch's eyes, Ludo was endangering them. In Ludo's eyes, he was just having a bit of fun every now and then.

Neither of them had to be tidy or clean with their Tournament papers. As a result, they were strewn all over the place. Ludo Bagman was sprawled across the couch, dozing. Crouch was uncomfortably beside him, quill in hand as he thought on how to further complicate the Tournament.

They weren't prepared when Goblins ferociously sprinted into the factory from opposing sides, forming a pincer movement. A team burst through the door and had the two of them out cold before either knew what had transpired.

The team that came in split up. Three gathered the papers and three others drew a somewhat accurate representation of the lines on the whiteboard.

When the Goblins left, a few stayed behind. Bagman and Crouch got kicked out and set up shop elsewhere. It didn't matter. Harry knew what the Task was. He couldn't prevent it this time.

The first challenge of the former TriWizard Tournament was a race.

Care for a swim?

Harry doesn't.

xxx

After the attacks, their opposers stepped up their game. The race was 5 days away. Magic was allowed. Nothing too performance boosting, though. The Chosen one and the Marked one had no idea of how to supersede that. Maybe in another circumstance, sure. Not a race. And not one in the water. They also couldn't harm each other. Harry sat in a chair in his bedroom, grinning. By that wording, the Champions were technically allowed to bring performance-enhancing items from outside the activity.

Harry knew what he was doing. He just hoped it would come in time.

xxx

5 days later, Harry Potter, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour all stood, eyeing one another. The students were all now officially briefed on the Task. The foreign Headmaster and Headmistress smirked smugly, loving the idea of a Squib Champion. Dumbledore smiled as well, though for different reasons. He was confident in Cedric and Harry. He knew they could do something as simple as this easily. He didn't know the means, but that small fact didn't stop him from trusting them.

It was noon. Midday. Harry wished someone was there to cheer him on. Some of the Gryffindors did believe him, when he told them the truth about his name. During the signing of the parchment that banned Harry indefinitely from Gryffindor House, they held their tongues, afraid of being cast out like him. It went against what Gryffindors were known for. If someone pointed out that fact to the few guilty boys and girls, they would have changed their minds and demanded the parchment retracted.

Nobody did. Harry had nobody in the bleachers for him. The stands only held people to leer at him the full 300 meters.

At 12:05, Ludo Bagman raised his wand, about to send off sparks to signal the start of the First Task.

"Wait!" The Boy-Who-Lived interrupted.

He ran back into the green tent reserved for the Champions. With him he brought a metal machine; no Wizard, except perhaps Albus Dumbledore or Arthur Weasley, would know what the contraption did. The messy-haired green-eyed Squib jogged back with it, and dropped it into the water. As he hefted it Igor Karkaroff exclaimed, "What is that, boy?"

Harry smiled and turned to Ludo Bagman. "The other Champions brought their wands." He motioned to them impatiently grasping their wands, Cedric holding his almost nervously.

"By that display, you have shown that the rules allow them to use magic to get ahead, yes?" Bagman lowered his wand, dumbfounded. Fleur scowled as she caught on. "So, in technicality, I am allowed to use this machine," He gestured to it, the black paint shining in the sun.

"No, he can't! It was brought in!" Madame Maxime protested.

"No, Madame. I am delighted that Harry thought this through." Dumbledore beamed. "What he is alluding to is that his competitors are using their wands, which are also 'brought in'. He's within the boundaries, correct?" He glanced at Ludo.

"Ah, yes. The rules allow it." The greedy man replied nervously.

"Let us get on with it! Zhe crowd is waiting!" Delacour pointed with her wand to the spectators.

With a nod to the Champions, Bagman raised his wand once again and shot off red sparks.

Harry waited until they were all in the water. Viktor delayed a bit casting a weird spell, but eventually got in.

He had had his worries about the water. It was winter, and they're going to swim? Was Bagman out of his mind? But no, the young apprentice found that the whole area was heated. There was no snow or frigid airs within a certain radius of the event, so all was well.

The Chosen one bent down and pulled back the string on the black machine hard. It sputtered and growled, moving forward slowly. Harry jumped in the water beside it, his hands clutching the side.

It was an agonizing buildup, but the contraption got faster and faster, accelerating in the water. Krum was already halfway, having transformed the upper half of his body into a shark. Harry shivered subconsciously. The dark, unfeeling eyes of those creatures always unsettled him. Missing the irony of it, he held his breath and pulled himself underwater. Cedric was the closest, only performing a speed spell. He swung his arms in great big breaststrokes; the water splashing out and nearly hitting a few people. He gaped as his Champion counterpart flew by him. Cedric started moving hurriedly, struggling to beat Harry. Fleur was up next. Her being half Veela set her back in the water-race. She had a horrible dislike for water because of it.

The 17 year old didn't let it stop her, though. The magic she used created a wave underneath the surface, similar to Harry's idea. He edged behind her, the metal bouncing in the water, him flailing on it trying to keep a hold.

She wouldn't let this spoiled boy get past her and win this. Whatever he did in the Hospital Wing was a trick. The Boy-Who-Lived tricked her, so now she was going to trick him!

She altered the wave pushing jer sleek body through the water, making it turn at an angle. The angle coincided with Harry's path. Due to the giant fan's speed, Harry couldn't stop in time, or jump off. He could only watch her. As a precaution, when Fleur got in at the beginning, she casted another bit of magic. The other magic protected her body from other Champions. Even with rules in place, this was the TriWizard Tournament after all! People died in these! Harry expected her body to get mangled and crushed under the force of the heavy black fan cascading through the lane, but instead it was vice versa. Fleur's body acted as a ramp of sorts, making Harry go airborne. He went through the air, at least 15 feet up. The Muggle machine landed on the sidelines, cracking from the hard stone ground. The velocity flung the young Squib off, right back into the pool. He was ahead of Fleur, by Krum. But Krum was too close to the finish line, and ended first. The Headmasters and Headmistress clapped, some cold and automatically.

Harry was on his back in his water, floating. He heard the screaming around him of the students watching. He felt the water moving as Fleur began to catch up. Swirling around, he began to turn himself around, getting upright again. Fleur passed him. Fleur got 2nd.

Harry did a sort of paddling in the water. He gasped mouthfuls of air, hoping to make it to the end before Cedric.

Alas, Cedric made it before him. Pulling himself out of the water at the end, Harry laid on the ground. He couldn't summon the strength to do anymore. As the Champions around him received their scoring, he too did. Nobody seemed concerned with his state, except for Dumbledore.

After the scoring, he scooped the exiled Gryffindor up gently with a "Mobilicorpus" muttered from his wrinkled lips, guiding his floating body to the Champion tent. Nurse Pomfrey was there, repurposing it as a hastily-prepared medical facility.

Harry coughed as he was set down on a conjured white table. "Albus, let him be." The Nurse chided as she gave the boy many different colored potions, some fizzing in his mouth. Fleur came to the entrance and saw the Squib she relentlessly sabotaged. A cruel smile came to her face, and oddly, a stab of guilt. The old Headmaster of Hogwarts tried to get Harry's attention before he collapsed. "Harry? Harry? Can you hear me? You got 3rd!" Dumbledore put up 3 of his fingers, overjoyed for Harry and his success. The result was a little worrying, the Supreme Mugwump had to admit. But he was sure his Nurse had the situation in hand. "Harry, just rest now. You did great, my boy." The Prophesized one passed out a few minutes later, wondering if he really did see that flash of glistening yellow in his vision.

xxx

Bagman and Crouch sat together that night, Bagman going through his winnings from various bets placed.

They were on a roll! After the Potter's injury, they decided to put back the second Task about a week or so more.

Early April seemed the best for it anyways. "So?" Bartemius prompted, sweat rolling from his brow.

"What?" His friend asked.

Crouch sighed in frustration.

"What we've been going over the whole night, dimwit!" He angrily replied.

"The gold earned from the first Task?" Bagman said giddily.

"No! What the second Task will be!"

"Oh, yes." Bagman slumped back. "Yes, dueling is a fine practice. It will be even finer in the TriWizard Tournament!" He enunciated strongly.

"And the Squib?" Barty questioned anxiously, worried about the fallback.

"He'll be fine." His younger companion tried to reassure.

Crouch hoped so.

xxx

Viktor Krum was worried about Harry. Following his crash, he saw him rushed into the Champion-briefing-turned-medical tent and didn't see him afterwards. He knew there was only one place the Boy-Who-Lived could be, the Hospital Wing.

"Making a lot of visits here lately, eh Poppy?" Harry said, some of his words mincing.

"Not any more than the usual rack-up, Mr. Potter."

The youngest Quidditch Seeker in a century leaned back into his pillow. "Oh, good. Wouldn't want to break tradition," he chuckled, stopping suddenly, gasping. "Don't do much of that," The witch warned. "You'll hurt yourself."

Taking her words to heart, Harry relaxed and went limp in the bed.

"What day is it?" He asked, unmoving.

"February 20th."

For most normal people, that would be a cause of concern. The first Task happened on the 18th.

Harry being a teenager, it was easy for him to sleep the day away. One time, he slept an entire day!

He was released that afternoon. When he walked down to get some dinner before heading back to the camp, his Bulgarian friend ran into him. "Oh, sorry," Viktor apologized.

"It's fine. Enjoying 1st place?"

Krum was happy he got to talk with Harry again. The way things left off at their last meeting wasn't how he wanted them to be. Even if Harry was without magic, he didn't parade around. He didn't show off or seem entitled. The boy let Krum keep to himself. There was nothing the older Champion hated more than being crowded.

"Yes, we celebrated on the ship. Delacour almost caught up with me in the scoring when she pulled that little stunt." The air between them became uncomfortable after that. Viktor hadn't meant to bring up the scene (even if it was ingenious!), and Harry didn't want to speak of it.

Finally, he relented.

"I'm surprised you kept it with the move Fleur did,"

His reply broke the ice a little; they stopped the conversation, temporarily grabbing their preferred foods to dine on, along with utensils.

They moved on from the topic of the Veela to simpler things.

"Oh, Harry! Try this. It's great. Comes from Sweden." Viktor said excitedly as he saw a rare dish that he immediately nudged other plates over for.

The rest of their dinner carried on that way.

As they left and said their goodbyes to each other, each going separate ways, someone bumped into Harry.

"Entering it wasn't enough, Squib?" The angry words sounding familiar.

"How long has it been, Ron? You still believe that?" Harry asked his former friend.

"Of course I do! It's the truth." The redhead sneered. Harry caught a glimpse of brown behind his shoulder.

He brushed past Ron to see Hermione.

"Hermione, surely you don't think that drivel is true," He looked down slightly at her. She sniffled, clearly trying to contain herself. "I don't know what to think, Harry. You're a little unpredictable." She laughed, the sound fragile and weak. "On one hand," she gestured to Ron, seething. "You do things for no reason, waiting until the very end to even say anything about them. What if this is no different?" She wiped at her eyes and continued. "You saved Neville's Remembrall without hesitation. He could've gotten a new one. You went into the Chamber, not knowing what was inside. You could have died so many times, Harry." Ron watched in the background silently.

"Then there was Azkaban. What if this is no different?"

Harry let her talk, not interrupting. Her argument was solid.

"Of course, this could also be V-V-" She groaned. "It might be You-Know-Who trying to get to you again." She said quietly, not having the courage and not wanting to face the fact that her friend might be in danger.

Harry almost replied but paused. Hermione went through the problem logically. She looked at it from all angles. He was proud of her, even at a time like this.

About to try to convince her, she stopped him. "Give me time, Harry." With that last phrase she left, dragging Ron with her. Harry watched them as they went, leaving him alone in the long and shadowy hall.

Footsteps rang behind him.

"Keeping zhe lies up, hmm?" Fleur queried.

He closed his eyes wearily. The day and it's events were proving to be too much for him. He turned, meeting her eyes.

She withheld a breath. The boy looked traumatized. Granted, it wasn't much of a look, just a sinking of the cheeks here and there, and a frown. For the boy who seemed impassive, it was a milestone. For a normal person, they would look like they had a stressful day. Not for him.

"Always." Those eyes stared through her. Those eyes too old for someone too young.

The Potter brat turned on his heel and strode away, leaving the beauty alone.

xxx

"I don't understand, Gabrielle. What is the deal with Potter?" Fleur asked her sister, troubled.

"Maybe you would know. If you didn't insult him in every breath you take," Gabby said to her, more concerned with correcting her hair in the mirror.

Fleur paced in her room, unable to shake the enigma that is Harry Potter out of her mind. Even using Muggle technology, he got 3rd. He kept going after crashing and injuring himself.

"He deserves it. The kid is pampered." She said, almost to herself. She was starting not to cling to the widespread rumours. He looked too distant. He looked too sad. Too...blank. Nobody that devoid can be what he is described as, she decided.

"How would you know, Miss I-believe-everything-I-hear?" The question brought her out of her musing.

"Because most of what I hear is accurate!" She answered huffily.

"Look at him, Fleur. I'm not asking you to tell me what he sounds like. I'm asking you to tell me what he is like."

That threw her off for a moment. Gathering her wits, she tossed back her gold-yellow hair. "Fine, I'll try talking to the child." Not that it would get her anywhere. He hardly said anything to anyone. In fact, his lack of response is what got her here! She'd have to get him to talk.

xxx

Strelok fell back to sit on the ground, happy with his work. He got the Ford custom-made tires. Now, the old thing could go almost anywhere with a breeze! It could finally stop getting emotional over it, too. The headlights blinked at him. The man patted its hood, feeling the inside of his shirt wet with sweat.

Harry had come back a few hours ago. As soon as he did, he went in to rest.

Suddenly, the Goblin overlooking the area in the tree-house chirped. He waved his stubby arms, trying to get Strelok's attention.

Harry awoke from the running. He sprang out of bed, seeing what the commotion was about.

What he saw terrified him. A French girl timidly stepped through the Forbidden Forest, using a variant of a compass spell. She was headed right towards them.

He had them all stand down, and ran out to meet her from a different direction.

Her wand's line turned around. She followed it, twirling it to get around hanging branches. Something bumped into her.

"Why are you here?" The boy asked her.

"For your information," she began haughtily, pointing her nose in the air. "I do not have to tell a measly boy what zhe lovely Fleur Delacour does with her time." She sniffed.

Harry crossed his arms.

"Do you know what lives in this forest?"

He asked, as if talking about the weather.

"Of course."

"Then what is that from?" He pointed to a thick web moving with the wind.

"It's from a spider! Do you think I am dumb?" She replied angrily.

"What kind of spider?" The calm question rose from his throat.

"How would I know?"

He waved a finger at her matter-of-factly. "Because, these woods only have one type of spider,"

She glanced back at the web.

"You would know that if you looked for information on this place." The boy's soft voice added. She was caught in her lie. Delacour looked back at him, sensing a faint sadness.

"Okay, fine. I just want to talk, Harry."

He went from sad to amused.

"I'm sorry, Fleur. I'm not up to trade insults, today."

The Hogwarts Champion was void of laughter in an instant. What he said next left her speechless.

"I lost my friend today, Fleur," His pained eyes regarded her. His soft spoken words reverberating in the empty space around them, their quietness intensifying the emotional effect.

"Maybe tomorrow?" He offered. She said nothing. She didn't know what to say. Harry walked away in another direction than he came, curling back around to go back to the camp.

Fleur watched the sunset, still in the woods where he had left her.

The sun shined on her brightly as it sunk. For a second, the huge burning star made her pretty face look almost wet.

xxx

The Goblin with the long-range rifle kept his sights on the two the whole time. He had to move, though. The angle of the watchtower had some trees in the way, so he went through some paths they made a few weeks ago. The human boy left the girl, coming back. The Goblin rushed back, the barrel of the M12 almost reaching the ground in his sprinting. He gave the other Goblins the signal to relax. Nothing had went wrong, this time at least.

Strelok had his left hand bunched up in his pocket, touching a yellow stone absently. He sat in the Anglia and watched as the sniper relieved his fellow guards. His charge came back a few minutes later. He was curious as to what happened; Strelok wouldn't deny it. But he couldn't ask, due to Harry not having magic to cast his language spell. Going from the Goblins winding down, he guessed that things were okay. Greeting his mentor, Harry joined him in the passenger seat. From their current position, they had a perfect view of both sunrise and sunset. Teacher and pupil, Porcupine and Stalker sat in silence, watching the clouds turn from white to red as the sun tinted the sky. The engine clicked from running for so long that day. The sounds reminded the Marked one of a Geiger counter going off. Having an idea, he fished around in his right pocket. A second later, he pulled out the measuring device. To his horror, it wasn't the engine clicking. It was February! What was he thinking?! The cold air would have cooled it down long before now! "Get out!" He yelled to Harry.

They scrambled out of the car. The clicking only increased. They were actually protected minorly from being inside of it.

"Go, go, go!"

The Goblins retrieved their armaments. The huge Russian man immediately swallowed an iodine capsule. The others copied his example. Torch was fortunately among them that night. He had been given bundles of the tablets to carry with him. The pills rattled in his arms as he went. Sprinting off into the bristles, the white-haired Goblin hoped to get to the Colony in time.

The camp's occupants ran out of the Forbidden Forest as fast as their legs carried them.

Eventually, the group made it to the Scottish castle.

Harry knew they couldn't stay where they were, someone would spot them sooner or later.

So they skirted around the edges of the Forest, looking for a place to stop for the night. The castle and its high peaks faded away behind them. Out of luck, the Goblins dug up a rabbit hole.

A few stood guard from behind the mound of dirt they flung up. By early morning, they had a primitive hole in the ground. The small creatures were frantic in the snow, trying not to get hypothermia. They moved the dirt mounds to two separate points, designated as basic barricades. Their objective complete, the warriors crawled back into the hole with the humans.

As the day wore on, the Goblins dug deeper. They had a natural affinity for that sort of thing. How else would the Bank of Gringotts have gotten so deep?

As they dug, the other Goblins took the stone set aside and began crafting with it. By the end of the week, they had basic things.

Places to sleep, however hard that they were, and walls to give privacy. Strelok would have to order food, or steal from the castle. That was bad either way. His choices were the lesser of two evils. One would have him hoping nobody would see the owls landing, and the other would have him hoping nobody noticed the food gone.

Letting his Mosin hang from his back, he sat down and wrote a letter with a pen and paper that had just a few microsieverts radiating from them. The Stalker sighed and added replacements of those to his list. He would have to dispose of them where nobody would find them.

As he wrote, a hair fell onto his paper. And another. He became terrified as he realised. He got up, threw the half-finished list outside, and shakily took more iodine pills.

This wasn't good.