CHAPTER 10:

THE GOBLET OF FIRE

October 30…

Well, the past couple of months were pretty boring, really. The major highlight was seeing the look on Dumbledore's face when Harry and Hermione's requests to sit the OWLs early came in, though dealing with the aftermath was irritating. Especially when he had to deal with the sneers of Snape, who, as usual, claimed he was being an attention-seeking brat.

For some reason, Hermione felt a little uneasy around Moody, an unease he shared. Something indefinable, beyond the lessons on the Unforgivable Curses he gave, and that ranting paranoia. It certainly fit in well with what Sirius and Remus told him about Moody, but he trusted Hermione's instincts. That, and poor Neville's discomfort at being shown the Cruciatus, even though Moody was sure to have known how Neville's parents were tortured into insanity. And he had seemed a little more confident and happy now, presumably due to Harry's little gifts.

A minor but noticeable distance was growing between them and Ron, too. Harry decided that, on Ron's side at least, it was partly due to Harry not keeping him in the loop, as well as his increased closeness to Hermione, as well as his closeness to 'Nabe', whom Harry claimed to have met while in hiding with Sirius, though Harry managed to mollify both Ron and Dumbledore by claiming that Sirius actually found her and hired her as a bodyguard, claiming her to be a Metamorphmagus. Well, mollified in that they knew why she was here. Dumbledore still pried for information.

Harry realised that part of the reason for his distance from Ron, at least on Harry's side, was…well, his increasing misanthropy. Ron wasn't actually bad, Harry knew, but he was lazy, wanted to bathe in Harry's reflected glory, and had been holding Harry back academically, even if only on an unconscious level. He was loyal, yes, but he also had an envious streak towards Harry's fame and fortune, in spite of how Harry got it, through his parents' demise. And Harry realised he had allowed Ron's views, as well as those of Hagrid's, to colour his initial impressions of Magical Britain and Hogwarts.

Harry didn't hate the redhead. He couldn't even feel apathy. It was more like a gentle sorrow, because he knew that his friendship with Ron was over. The only thing was that the actual breaking of the friendship hadn't happened yet. He knew Ron would never accept his friend as being Ainz Ooal Gown. That he managed to accept Harry's Parselmouth abilities two years ago was a miracle. He knew that Ron would, in a choice between loyalty and being seen as Light, would choose the latter.

But Harry was committed to helping out the inhabitants of the Tomb of Nazarick and their associates. If it meant that he had the entirety of humanity as his enemy, then so be it. Humanity had never really done much for him, save for patting his back one moment, and then sticking a knife in it the next.

Pandora's Actor had already managed to infiltrate the Ministry…as a speechwriter and speech coach for Fudge, of all things. Apparently the hammy Doppelganger had impressed Fudge and Umbridge with his speeches. In fact, Fudge and Umbridge hadn't even noticed the bugs Pandora's Actor had left around their offices…bugs that Demiurge was gleefully exploiting to get as much intelligence as possible…not that there was much intelligence within the skull of Cornelius Fudge.

Now, just before Halloween, they were waiting outside for the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive. It was fucking cold, and Harry was glad that Hermione used warming charms on herself, even with the heavy robes: while not actually cold-blooded, she was affected by the cold more than a human would be. Narberal wasn't affected by the cold, though.

Aura, under concealment, was watching too, if only out of curiosity, as was Albedo and Shalltear, who had set up shop in the Chamber of Secrets (having now transformed it into a secondary dorm). Harry, during his training in the Time Chamber, had asked whether the condition of the House Elves could be reversed. Sadly, this wasn't the case: as the change had been performed centuries ago, the Dark Elves and House Elves were effectively different species, and trying to change them back would kill them. Apparently more than one of his predecessors had tried. Many House Elves were not loyal to Ainz Ooal Gown, if only because the wizards had warped their ancestors' minds against the organisation and its head.

However, it didn't mean he couldn't bring any under his aegis. He hadn't thought of it sooner, but had bound Dobby to him during the time spent here, and soon got Winky bound too. In order to further camouflage the whole thing, Hermione faked being on a crusade to free the House Elves. It was proving an excellent smokescreen for their activities. Dobby was grateful to work for Harry, and Winky, distraught at being dismissed by her previous owner (said owner being that dried-up old stick Barty Crouch Senior), willingly threw in her lot with Ainz Ooal Gown.

So, how do you think they're going to make their entrances? Harry asked through the ring links.

Narberal sniffed. They wouldn't hold a candle to any you would make, should you put your mind to it, my lord. That being said, Beauxbatons does allow people of creature heritage to attend, usually part-Veela.

Harry nodded mentally. He had been briefed by Sebas and Demiurge. Ainz Ooal Gown's history with Beauxbatons was complicated. After all, they were a little more tolerant of creatures and monsters than most such institutions. But shortly after the previous Ainz Ooal Gown's death, Madame Maxime, not wanting her school tainted by association with Ainz Ooal Gown, expelled any students with a known association to the organisation. Not that there were many, but it was enough to ensure considerable bad blood between the Tomb of Nazarick and Beauxbatons, especially as some were relying on the protection of Beauxbatons. At least two former students of the French magic school were murdered thanks to Maxime washing her hands of them.

While Harry could maybe understand Maxime's reasons to a degree (she wanted to protect her school from being associated with dark elements, even as she wanted to keep it a refuge for those with creature heritage), he also thought it disingenuous of her, even immensely hypocritical, as she was apparently half-Giant, and Giants tended to be worse monsters than even many of those in Nazarick. She may not have killed them, but in her attempts to wash her hands of them, she had allowed them to be targeted. He hoped she suffered from guilt, because if she didn't…

Durmstrang, for a school with such an emphasis on teaching the Dark Arts, had even worse relations with Ainz Ooal Gown. Attitudes of Blood Purity were allowed to run rampant, partly thanks to their headmaster, former Death Eater Karkaroff. It was probably only had as good a reputation as it did nowadays because Viktor Krum, the Seeker of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, attended the school.

Three schools, united here supposedly in the spirit of 'international cooperation'. But competitions weren't about cooperation, at least not between enemies. No, they wanted to win. They wanted to show that they were better than any other school. They wanted to boast about it, take their metaphorical dicks out of their trousers, wave them in people's faces, and claim that theirs was bigger.

The Beauxbatons delegation soon swooped in in a carriage drawn by winged horses. Showy, but somewhat interesting, Harry thought to himself. Though he had to restrain himself from glaring at Maxime when she strode from the carriage.

He also noted something. Hermione, I sense a Veela or part-Veela's allure, Harry said.

Hardly surprising, Hermione said. I can see her. She's got her scarf around her face at the moment.

She'd better not steal our lord from us, Albedo muttered venomously. The Succubus was possessive of Harry, and while she had no qualms about having an open relationship, it was with those she knew. Not that Harry could complain: aside from Hermione and Shalltear, that list of Albedo's approved co-lovers also included the Pleiades, and he had already established good relations with them.

Admittedly, he felt a bit uneasy around more than a few of them. While he was an admitted misanthrope, some of them were even more misanthropic than he was. Not to mention Solution and Entoma's habit of cannibalism, and Narberal and Lupusregina's disdain (usually open in Narberal's case, and hidden under a cheerful façade in Lupusregina's) for them. But they were completely and utterly loyal to him, and that was what mattered.

Soon, the Durmstrang delegation arrived, the admittedly awesome emergence of the massive ship from the depths of the lake ruined by the very toilet-like sound it made. Harry ignored Ron's excited hiss about Krum as the Quidditch star appeared, following that oleaginous fuck Karkaroff. Karkaroff obviously bought Krum here to be a ringer for a Champion for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and to bathe in the reflected glory.

Well, let Karkaroff have his petty little moment in the sun. Harry intended to deal with any Death Eaters that crossed his path. And that included Snape. They would either bend the knee to him, or they would die. Though he reckoned the latter would be more likely…

The next 24 hours were…moderately interesting. The feast before the reveal of the Goblet of Fire had been interesting, though Ron spent too much time staring in awe at Viktor Krum…and then in infatuation with the part-Veela Harry and Hermione had sensed, who had wanted their bouillabaisse. When Karkaroff recognised Harry, it seemed almost like he was about to attack him…which would have been a big mistake. Thankfully, Moody intervened. Harry had to admit, for all the grizzled Auror's paranoia and his seeming apathy to Neville's reaction to the Cruciatus being demonstrated, Moody did have at least one thing going for him. Namely, turning Malfoy into a ferret and using him as a bouncy ball.

Then, the next morning, Fred and George tried bypassing the Age Line so that they could enter. The resulting backlash, giving them long white beards, provoked even the stoic and disdainful Narberal to laugh. Still, Harry had to consider whether he should risk bringing Fred and George into his confidence. After all, they may not be willing to work for a burgeoning Dark Lord, even one as relatively benign as Harry…then again, given their iconoclastic ways, maybe they would.

The day, of Halloween, passed by fairly well. Harry was almost tempted to hope that nothing bad would happen this day, unlike every other Halloween he had spent at Hogwarts…or the one he had lost his parents on. But he knew that'd be daring the universe.

As he sat during the feast, where the Champions would be revealed, he wondered whether he should let the Hogwarts Champion know what was coming, thanks to his foreknowledge of what was coming. He looked at that fatuous fool Bagman, and that stuck-up old bastard Crouch, and sneered mentally. Bagman was a fool who was pleasant usually, but he reminded him too much of Pettigrew for his liking: too skittish and selfish and cowardly. And Crouch was a self-righteous twat who had locked away his godfather without a damned trial…and probably would have turned Magical Britain into a bloody police state if he had his way. Okay, that was a bit of a hypocritical thought, considering that Harry intended to rule Magical Britain from the shadows, but still, Crouch's self-righteous nature was aggravating.

After the feast, the Goblet was all set to reveal who the Champions were. A hush settled over the hall. The first name the Goblet spit out was Viktor Krum's, who had become Champion for Durmstrang. Then came that part-Veela girl from Beauxbatons, whose name turned out to be Fleur Delacour.

And then, finally, the Hogwarts Champion was chosen. It turned out to be Cedric Diggory, a handsome Hufflepuff Harry had competed against at Quidditch before. Harry, inwardly, wished the Hufflepuff luck.

And then, after the Champions had retired to an antechamber, Harry seemed set to relax…when the Goblet flared up again. A new piece of parchment had flown out of it, and fluttered into Dumbledore's waiting hand. And Harry was struck with a sense of dread. He couldn't go one Halloween at Hogwarts without something bad happening, could he? And when Dumbledore read out the name on the parchment, Harry knew that things were going to go south for someone pretty soon.

"Harry Potter."

CHAPTER 10 ANNOTATIONS:

Well, that happened. I'm going to skip to the aftermath of what happened in the next chapter, and Harry spiralling ever further into darkness when the school, and Ron, turn on him.

Incidentally, as of this chapter, this is the third-ranked Harry Potter/Overlord crossover in terms of favourites, and just shy of the Top 10 of Overlord crossovers in general in terms of favourites. Hopefully, I can get even better.

Review-answering time! woodzdrox: As you saw above, I did a little nod to your review, but Hermione hasn't smelled any Polyjuice on Moody, or at least nothing she identifies as Polyjuice. She just smells something off about him. Of course, now that Harry has been entered into the TWT…

storyreader21: Using Hermione as part of the Voldemort resurrection scene is not happening. And she isn't in the TWT either.

Infernus est in Animo: Nope.

No numbered annotations this time.