Knowledge is Power

by Defenestratable

AU. Harry is two years older than canon and raised by Remus. Neville is BWL. Story of Harry's search for knowledge to cure his mother. Snarky characters, witty humor, Quidditch, deeply developed OCs. Harry/Fleur.

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 26: The Goblet of Fire

"Mate, these NEWT classes are a killer," Roger Davis plopped down beside Harry in the Ravenclaw common room with an exasperated sigh – Harry tried his best to ignore him.

"I'm not helping you with your homework," he pre-emptively answered without looking up from his book: Magiks and Runes of Ancient Egypt.

"Come on mate," Roger chuckled nervously, "I just need some help with this Transfiguration essay, it won't take you five . . ."

"No."

Before the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain could ask again, his girlfriend for the week sat on his lap and kissed him, she seemed rather pleased about something unknown to all but the two – glowing, even.

Harry looked on in disgust at the scene. Rhona Simmonds, a good looking and flirtatious sixth year that had filled out during the summer before their fifth year. She's been taking advantage of that fact, and the effect she has on hormonal teenage males, ever since. Harry could have sworn, according to the gossip that was continuously spread around the castle, that she was with another boy, and shagging him too, at the end of their previous year.

Didn't take long to get over him though, did it?

Disgusting, in his opinion, and everyone wonders why he's not interested in the vast majority of the girls going around these days.

Whatever, he didn't have to associate with them, thankfully.

"Want to say something, Harry?" Rhona purred from Roger's lap with a flirtatious grin in his direction, misinterpreting the look on his face for something other than disgust.

"Yeah, about a million things, but I can't express myself monosyllabically enough for you to understand them all," he replied dryly. He was quite amused when, after several moments, her face flushed in anger, as she finally understood his jab.

"Hurry up Harry, we're going to be late for our first defence class," Archie called out as he came rushing down the stairs with their books held in each hand, "it should be really good this year with someone like Moody teaching us, right?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged; Mad-eye Moody, the legendary Auror known throughout Britain for his viciousness when fighting against the dark, and his excessive paranoia, was to be their professor during the first year of their NEWT studies.

He had had the displeasure of meeting the man on several occasions when Tonks brought him with her for a bite to eat during her apprenticeship under him. The man was always jumpy and glaring at the vampire and werewolf customers at the inn, something they, and the management, didn't appreciate all too much.

Leaving the Ravenclaw common room behind, their classmates no doubt very soon to follow, Archie and Harry made their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Hey, where were you at breakfast this morning?" Archie asked his friend as the two walked at a brisk pace towards class.

"Not there," Harry replied in a deadpan, Archie rolled his eyes in amusement.

"Right, whatever, you missed something funny though," he chuckled as he remembered what he had witnessed, "you know Crabbe and Goyle, two years below us?"

"Draco's little friends?" Harry replied with faux confusion, as if he didn't know what was coming.

"Yeah, them," Archie chuckled "well, Crabbe randomly confessed his love to Goyle right in the middle of the great hall, tried to snog him too," he snorted in amusement "the funny thing though, was that it was the most words anyone had ever heard come out of any of their mouths. You should have seen Malfoy, he didn't look too pleased either."

"Fascinating," he replied dryly, trying to act indifferent though inwards, he was pleased his little private payback had succeeded.

The last student rushed into the classroom, mere seconds before the bell sounded and Moody entered the classroom himself, prompt, and walking with a limp to the front desk, each step accompanied by the clank of his wooden leg. The grizzly ex-Auror stood at the front of the class by his desk and glared every student in the room, his magical eye whizzing around without resting on any singular spot in particular.

"I received a letter from Professor Winters saying that this class in particular has some real potential – all of you are supposed to be outstanding students, some of the best in the school, and are supposedly ready for whatever it is I am to teach you," Moody's eye fixated on random people before shifting to a new target after it scrutinized them briefly.

"Dumbledore convinced me to come here and teach you whelps what I know of defence for the year," he began in an irritated voice "as NEWT students, all of you must have achieved good marks to get into this class, but you know what?" he asked, his rough voice asked softly as he paced at the front of the classroom.

"It means nothing!" he slammed his walking stick into the ground causing most of the students in the room to jump in fright at the unexpected outburst.

"Do you think your enemies are going to care that you got an Outstanding on some test in high school when they remove your head clean from your body?" he questioned grimly, much to the surprise of those in the room "Do you think that, when you're outnumbered three to one, your enemies closing in on you with no way out, that they'll be impressed by a disarming hex that you perfectly performed in some test?"

His heated speech had captured the undivided attention of everyone in the room; all of whom were pleased, yet somewhat shocked, by the gritty realism.

"Now, normally the Ministry of Magic would have me teach you the theory behind some of the more common of the illegal dark arts, but I say different!" he barked loudly, startling his listeners "You need to know what you'reup against. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful – that includes you Potter!"

Harry briefly glanced at Moody at the mentioning of his name. Other than a slight narrowing of his eyes, he showed no indication of being called out before returning his gaze back to the afternoon sky.

"I am always a fan of starting at the top," he resumed his lecture "so, can any of you tell me which curses are most heavily punished by the law?"

After a few moments of silence, Cedric raised his hand to answer the question. Moody's magical eye turned to him before the experienced man pointed to him, indicating for the boy to speak.

"The Imperius curse, sir," Cedric answered warily "it allows someone to completely dominate someone's mind and control their actions – my father told me about it a while ago."

"Correct, Mister Diggory, one point to Hufflepuff," Moody said as he hobbled over to Cedric's table "your father would know all about that one, wouldn't he? Caused a lot of troubles for the Ministry back during the first rise of 'You-know-who'."

Moody hobbled back over to his desk and took out a glass jar that had a fist-sized tarantula in it. Taking the spider out of the jar and placing it on the table, he pointed his wand at it before muttering, 'Imperio!'

Everyone watched, captivated, as Moody had the creature perform several amusing acrobatics and manoeuvres like dancing, jumping into the window and scaring some of the girls.

Some of the students laughed at their reactions until Moody snapped at them "Think it's funny do you? What if I did this on a poisonous snake or spider and sent it at them?"

The laughter instantly died down.

"Total control," he mumbled forlornly as he controlled the spider "I could make it jump out of a window, drown itself, climb into one of your throats . . ."

Several of the girls in the classroom shivered uncomfortably, Harry, on the other hand, continued to stare out of the window and not pay attention.

"Several witches and wizards, back in the day, were put under the Imperius curse to perform the bidding of others," it was quite clear what he meant by 'back in the day' and 'others', "Quite the task for the Ministry to sort out who was actually being controlled and who was faking it, for many claimed to do 'You-know-who's bidding while being under the Influence of the Imperius curse, which couldn't be further from the truth," the atmosphere of the room had become downright morose.

"However," he interrupted their thoughts "the Imperius curse can be fought, and I'm going to teach you how. It takes a real strength of character and an iron will, so not everyone can do it – best try not to get hit by one at all, if you can help it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, startling the occupants of his class again.

"Can anyone else name one? Another illegal curse?" people seemed hesitant to answer for some reason, but Archie raised his hand anyway.

"There's the Cruciatus curse, or the torture curse," he informed their professor somewhat reluctantly. Clearly, memories of his mother's torture before her death were being brought to the forefront of his mind.

Moody, this time, approached Archie and fixed him with a stare before speaking "Your name's Montague?" he asked quietly, receiving a nod from the boy in response "One point to Ravenclaw," he hobbled back to his desk and grabbed the spider again, before enlarging it and placing it on his desk "I need to make him bigger so you can properly see the effects of the Cruciatus curse," he said.

Moving out of the way so everyone could see, he pointed his wand at it and muttered, 'Crucio!' harshly.

The football sized tarantula rolled onto its back, its legs bent inwards towards its body as it twitched horribly. If it were capable of noise, it would be howling in pain for certain. The longer Moody held the spell, the more violently it twitched, until finally, he dropped the curse and released the spider from its torture.

Archie, Harry noticed, was looking on with a detached interest, his face stony and hiding any of the emotions he was feeling.

"Pain," he muttered "why use knives or chemicals to cause it when you can directly attack their nerves with the Cruciatus curse, the worse pain imaginable – I've had it cast on me a few times before, let me tell you, it isn't pretty," some gasped at that revelation while others continued to listen in silence.

"Right, another one?" none raised their hands this time, seemingly more reluctant than before so Moody fixed both eyes on Harry "Well Potter? Seeing as you're too good for us to pay attention, perhaps you could clue the rest in?"

Harry eyed Moody lazily, not speaking as their eyes locked for several moments before Harry finally spoke "Avada Kedavra," he answered dully "the killing curse."

Moody nodded before turning away swiftly and reaching for the spider again before placing it in the middle of his table. Fixing his wand on the creature, he glared at it briefly before roaring 'AvadaKedavra!'

A flash of blinding green light accompanied by the sound of rushing wind followed the casting of the spell. It almost immediately impacted with the spider's body, making it flash green for the briefest, moments before it fell over, motionless, and unmistakably dead.

"Not nice," he mumbled "Not pleasant at all, and there's no counter for it. Only one person has survived being hit with that curse, and that's Longbottom, two years below you."

The room was silent once again, as they waited for the lecture to continue "Perhaps you can tell us why these particular curses are known as 'unforgivable' and earn you a lifetime stint in Azkaban Potter?"

Annoyed that he was being called on again, Harry sighed irritably before answering, "The intent to kill, control or torture must be present for the spell to actually work."

"Oh?" he questioned in amusement "I can't have the intent to kill you with a cutting curse?"

Harry shook his head in annoyance before answering, he was hoping for a 'free period' in coming to this class, but apparently Moody had other ideas "The cutting curse would work even without the intent to kill as you cast it," he explained "however, Avada Kedavra, Crucio and Imperio will not work unless you explicitly have decided in your mind to kill, torture or dominate someone. You must intend to do something truly unforgivable to someone in order for either of those spells to work, else they simply won't – impressive that you could cast them yourself so easily, sir."

Moody ignored the jab and walked back to the head of the class "Ten points to Ravenclaw," he said stonily "The Killing curse is a spell that requires an impressive amount of magic behind it to cast – most of you could all get your wands out, point them to me and say the words, and I very much doubt it'd work better than a mild bludgeoner. That doesn't matter though, because I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

Now, if there's no counter to this curse, then why, you should ask, am I showing it to you?" he asked rhetorically "it's because you need to know about it. You have to appreciate the worst of the worst you could possibly face out there. You don't want to find yourself in a situation out there where you're facing it – CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" the class jumped again at the sudden loud voice.

"Sir?" Archie raised his hand to speak "you say there's no counter to the killing curse, but couldn't we just conjure something to block its path? Or transfigure one or many things to get in the way of us and the spell?" he questioned curiously "the spell is powerful, sure, but it didn't seem to have much destructive power behind it, if we used, say, the Avis charm, couldn't one of the conjured birds take the hit and completely absorb the spell?"

Total silence met his question as Harry tried to suppress the smirk that was forming on his lips, especially when Moody seemed to twitch in annoyance.

"You can conjure up something magically resistant enough to stop a Killing curse before it reaches you then, can you?" Moody asked the brown haired boy, who didn't answer with words, merely flicking his eyes over to Harry briefly "and your theory with the birds, it's sound in principle, why don't you try it the next time someone casts it on you – let me know how it works out."

Several sniggers were sent Archie's way at that pseudo challenge; Cedric and Harry didn't look too amused however; the former because he agreed with his friend and the latter because he wasn't paying attention anymore.

"Why are you all laughing?" he snapped at the giggling students "at least he's using his brain and practising constant, everlasting, vigilance! What will you do when someone shoots a killing curse at you? Laugh at his idea that could possibly work? Write this down!"

It was a ridiculously cold October morning that found Archie and Harry sitting in the great hall amidst their fellow peers during breakfast. Archie had spent the majority of the previous night with Cedric in the Hufflepuff common room (he had to be snuck in) enjoying a good party, thrown for the Hufflepuff boy's birthday. He hadn't been to a good school party in a while, it was fun to go with some friends and have fun like he used to.

Also, as usual, Harry was nowhere to be seen at the party, despite his numerous invitations from not only Cedric himself, but several other Hufflepuffs. It was to be expected, but Archie wished that Harry would come and have some fun with him now and again; it was slightly annoying that the one time Harry had gone some place Archie would count as 'fun', he had taken the hottest girl in the world (except for Stephanie) with him instead of his best friend!

He really couldn't blame the Quidditch star though; he would have ditched him for Stephanie in a second anyway if he were in Harry's shoes.

Looking over at the boy in question, Harry ate his breakfast distractedly, clearly more focused on the folder opened before him and its contents than on the food itself.

"What's that?" Archie asked, wondering what had captured his friend's interest so.

"A bank statement," Harry answered without taking his eyes off the page. Archie resisted the urge to palm his face, Harry had an annoying habit of stating the obvious – it wouldn't be nearly as annoying if Archie didn't know he did it on purpose.

"Does this bank statement relate to anything in particular?" he asked again, patiently, knowing that getting annoyed will only amuse Harry.

"Yeah," Harry answered "money."

"Money from what?!" Archie snapped irritably, wishing he could just punch that smug grin off Harry's face – he probably could now, rather effectively, if it weren't for the fact that he was shit-scared of any magical retaliation Harry might do to him. There was also his sword, his sharp, pointy and deadly sword . . .

"MBMC, why so angry Archades?" he asked with fake concern "all you had to do was ask . . ."

"Fucking prat," he mumbled under his breath "wait a minute, did you say MBMC?" he asked with interest. He hadn't been too concerned with the actual numbers, in terms of profit, his little business had been raking in. Harry had told him and Cedric that it had been going well, so he saw no need to ask.

"Can I have a look at that?" he asked curiously, irritated that his friend was grinning at him again "please, you cock-face?"

"Whatever," Harry tossed the folder over to him, waiting with an amused interest at what was sure to be his friend's reaction, "just don't faint on me and embarrass yourself."

"Why would I . . ." he never got to finish the question as his eyes locked onto the vault's overall balance. Chancing one last look at Harry, he mumbled, "that's a lot of zeros," before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted dead away on the spot, in the middle of the great hall.

Harry shook his head in annoyance as he levitated his friend's unconscious form over to their Defence classroom, they'd be early, sure, but Archie had to wake up anyways.

Ten minutes after they arrived in the DADA classroom, the NEWT Defence students begun to stroll in. It didn't take long for Moody himself to hobble in and slam the door shut behind him, signifying the beginning of the class.

"I told you all that I'd be teaching you how to fight the most darkest of curses," Moody began his lecture in stylistic fashion as usual. Flicking his wand, a stack of sheets levitated up from his desk and split out across the room until there was one on each desk.

"This is . . . " Archie began in a shocked voice, only for Moody to cut him off.

"Permission slips," he barked to the shocked group of students "you need to sign them if you want to learn to fight the Imperius curse, you can't expect to learn to do it without experience, can you?"

"You going to cast Unforgivables on us?!" Cedric sounded indignant, Harry wondered why.

"You said doing that would earn you a lifelong ticket to Azkaban!" a Slytherin girl snidely reminded the professor "that desperate to meet a Dementor are you?"

Moody flinched slightly, much to Harry's amusement "Dumbledore wants you to know what it feels like," he said in his harsh and gruff voice, his magical eye randomly fixating on people in the room as he walked by them "if you'd rather find out the hard way – when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. Off you go. You're excused."

Harry's head snapped in Moody's direction at that, a grin forming on his face "Peace out," he tossed his permission slip on the floor and walked straight out of the classroom, leaving a gaping professor and classroom behind.

"POTTER!" it was too late however, Harry was already long gone.

"Hah!" he exclaimed triumphantly "chicken, just like his father was!"

Archie had to restrain himself from drawing his wand and hexing the man, he was only slightly disappointed that it wasn't a full moon.

"You knew Harry Potter's father?" Fred Weasley spoke up with interest "was he really a chicken?"

"Hah!" he exclaimed again "a poor duellist too, thought he could win his fights by conjuring piss-weak barn animals and sending them off to get slaughtered – a joke, if you ask me!"

"Funny," Archie spoke up "not last year you were telling us a story of how Mister Potter, on his Auror entrance exam, was the only one that was able to beat you in a duel without any Auror training," he smugly reminded the scarred man "not to mention that the man took down three of Voldemort's" there was a flinch in the room at the mention of his name, some even gasped "inner circle before he died, from what Harry tells me of the evening, they didn't stand a chance!"

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for speaking out of turn Montague," he stalked over to the Potions expert with both eyes fixed on him with a deadly glare "I know all about your family too, you know."

Before anyone else could retort, he was back at the head of the class with his arms crossed "If any of the rest of you are cowardly enough to just run away from a challenge, feel free to leave. Those of you who are not, sign your name where asked to and form a line at the side of the room."

Nobody else left, not willing to be called a coward by Moody and have that spread around the school through the rumour mill. Archie set his face into an expressionless mask, not willing to show any anger at Moody's mentioning of his family.

After everyone signed their permission slips, they lined up in front of Moody to have the curse placed on them. Archie was under no illusions as to what was going to happen. He couldn't speak for the others, but he doubted Moody would be pulling any punches when putting it on him.

After several of the students were forced to eventually perform a whole array of humiliating tasks – the chicken dance, skipping around the room, ridiculous gymnastics routines, and singing, to name a few – Archie was prepared for his turn.

"Ready Montague?" Moody barked at him and without even waiting for an answer, he pointed his small wand at Archie and growled, 'Imperio!'

A sudden feeling of euphoria flooded his senses. Archie felt like he was floating on clouds as every bothersome thought was wiped from his mind and replaced by complete and utter bliss. He felt completely relaxed and at ease, only vaguely aware of the classroom around him as his eyes went out of focus.

Suddenly, a voice started speaking in his head, Moody's voice, sounding as if he was listening to him speak through a thick wall, 'Tell us about your last memory of your mother' it enticed in a seductive voice, however, at the mentioning of his mother and how this bastard wanted him to speak of her death to the world – something inside of him snapped.

Snapping out of his daze, he lunged at Moody at punched him straight in the nose with his werewolf-enhanced strength, sending the crippled ex-Auror sprawling across the floor and into his desk.

"Mention her again you bastard!" Archie raged as Cedric tried with all his might to restrain his friend.

"Someone help me!" the Hufflepuff hissed to the rest of the class, his hold on the enraged boy slipping.

Moody slowly crawled to his feet, his nose now disfigured even more than usual, with a wicked grin on his face. Two other boys, Roger Davis and Anthony Silvers rushed to aid Cedric in restraining the snarling boy.

"Let go of me!" Archie snarled "mention her name again in my presence you son-of-a-bitch!" he roared in fury "I fucking dare you!"

If the class was expecting him to be angry at having his nose completely shattered, they were sorely mistaken, especially when his grin only increased in size as he applauded the boy "See that?" he barked triumphantly "Montague broke right through my curse, that isn't a feat any of you could boast easily," he quietened down when he saw the hate in the boy's eyes "Diggory, take him to the nurse's office and get him a calming draught," his voice sounding somewhat nasally now.

Cedric eyed his friend warily before nodding at the professor and doing as he asked, wondering just what had happened to set him off like that.

Cedric and Archie had found Harry spending his 'free-period' outside on the grounds near the entrance to the great hall reading a book under a tree.

"So you punched him in the nose?" Harry asked with amusement, breaking the few moments of contemplative silence that followed the explanation of what happened "You should have kicked him in his only good leg, that would have been funny."

Archie grinned sheepishly "I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind at the time," he shrugged helplessly before grinning "if I was, I probably would have tried to find out what Steph finds so fascinating about kneeing people in the groin."

"I know what you mean," Cedric winced "I learned that the hard way when I tried to peek on her in the shower," he spoke before thinking; only when he realized Harry's amused stare and Archie's angry glare did he realize what he'd said.

"You did what?" Archie asked his friend angrily.

"Huh?" Cedric asked with faux confusion.

"What did you just say?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked again, adopting one of Sirius' favourite 'get-out-of-trouble' strategies – deny, deny, deny – "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did," Archie insisted angrily "you just said you tried to peek on Stephanie!"

"No," he shook his head with a frown "I definitely didn't say that – why would I do something like that?"

"I have enhanced senses moron, I heard what you said!"

"That's probably a side-effect from whatever Madam Pomfrey gave you," he shrugged, grasping at straws "because I didn't say anything."

"There's no side-effect to calming draughts!" Archie snapped angrily.

"There must be, because I didn't say – hey Harry, where're you going?" Cedric asked a little too eagerly, glad to change the topic. Indeed, Harry was walking away from the arguing duo.

"Inside?" Harry raised an eyebrow "it's this way," he pointed at the castle.

Archie and Cedric hurried after Harry through the front door of the castle to see a large group of students all talking excitedly while crowded around the noticeboard.

Approaching the board, the three were able to see what everyone seemed to be so excited about:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will be ending half an hour earlier to accommodate for this. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories before assembling out the front of the castle to welcome our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

"Only a week away!" a younger Hufflepuff excitedly exclaimed, "Think I should go and let Cedric know?"

"Cedric?" Ron Weasley asked with a frown before Cedric could let his fellow housemate know that he was well aware already.

"Diggory, mate," Neville said with exasperation, "Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, ring any bells?"

"I know who he is," Ron snapped irritably, "That idiot? The Hogwarts Champion?" he scoffed at the thought as Cedric frowned at the boy.

"I suppose you'd be better then?" Cedric asked with a grin, several people who recognized his voice spun around to see him, shock in their eyes. Ron was not one of those fortunate enough to realize this fact.

"Of course," Ron scoffed without turning around "If I could enter, anyway, my brothers will have to do though. Anything's better than a Hufflepuff," he shook his head as Hermione was making slashing motions at her throat, trying to indicate to Ron to shut up.

"He's one of the top students of the year," Archie reminded Ron, who still, unbelievably, hadn't turned around. However, at that last point, he turned around ready to retort when he finally spotted Cedric and paled at the sight.

"Hello Ronald," he pleasantly greeted "how's it going, old chap?"

Ron couldn't form a complete sentence, sputtering incoherently with a face flushed with embarrassment instead. It was quite the sight to behold, especially when his own friends and family nearby were palming their faces at his stupidity.

"Hey, you," Harry addressed the bushy haired girl before him with a frown – the girl's face flushed in embarrassment when the smartest boy in the school spoke to her "did you know that you're wearing a badge that says spew?"

As everyone turned their attention on her, she seemed to become even more flustered "It's not spew," she corrected in a small voice "It's S – P – E – W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, would you like to join?"

"It says spew," Harry deadpanned, ignoring her question.

The girl, Hermione, from memory, bristled, but continued on regardless "We have three members already, perhaps if you joined, people may listen to us!" she asked him with hopefuleyes.

"The badge says spew."

"I think she knows what it says mate," Archie reminded him with a grin, Hermione only seemed to flush further when she realized just who was speaking to her.

"I don't think so, you see?" Harry pointed to her chest "she's wearing a badge that says spew."

Hermione pulled a piece of parchment out of her ass – or so Harry assumed – before speaking again "I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries, I can't believe no one's done anything about it!"

"And you plan to force a whole race of creatures out of their chosen form of lifestyle by wearing a badge that says spew?"

Hermione bristled once again at Harry's tone, "They don't know better!"

"So, your pitch to me is that you want me to wear a badge that says spew because House Elves are too stupid to know what's good for them," Harry nodded thoughtfully "Lizzy?"

A few brief moments passed before Lizzy, Harry's caretaker since he was a child, popped right beside them.

"Master Harry! Mister Awesome! What is it yous wants with Lizzy?" she said with a small frown with her hands on her hips "I is busy, yous know!"

"Mister Awesome?" Harry asked Archie with amusement, the boy just shrugged.

"I can't help it that she calls it like she sees it . . ."

"You have a House Elf?!" Hermione screeched indignantly, "You own a slave?!"

"You hear that Lizzy?" Harry asked the confused elf "This girl thinks you're too stupid to make your own decisions, and tries to get you all freed by wearing a badge that says spew."

Hermione's frustrated cry of 'it doesn't say spew' fell on deaf ears as Lizzy looked at her in shock.

"Yous is trying to get Lizzy fired?" she squeaked angrily before popping away suddenly.

"Oh, you're in for it now," Archie said giddily, "You're about to get an Elfish beat-down."

"What are you – OW!" Hermione rubbed her head in bewilderment as she felt a sudden pain spark at the back of her head "what in the . . . "

"Yous is calling Lizzy stupid and is trying to get Lizzy fired!" the enraged little elf squeaked at Hermione as she smacked the girl with her little wooden spoon over and over again.

"I'm trying to help you," she pleaded helplessly "you're a slave right now!"

"Is not wants your helps!" she squeaked in outrage "yous mind your own business, bad, bad girl!"

"See you later Lizzy," Harry walked off, leaving Hermione to get an elfish beat-down for her efforts to stop House Elf 'slavery'.

"Don't forget to tell Remus where you are if you stay for much longer," Archie reminded the elf with a grin before he went to follow Harry. Cedric remained behind to watch the scene in amusement, as did many others who had also come to see the noticeboard.

The days leading up to the arrival of the foreign schools were filled with anticipation and excitement. Many of the students at Hogwarts had barely seen anything out of the British Isles, let alone students from another magical school. The excitement brought on by the quickly approaching Triwizard tournament, too, was almost palpable as students and professors alike were gossiping about potential champions and tasks.

Even the professors were on edge at the idea of hosting two foreign schools for the remainder of the school year. Professor McGonagall would snap at any student making foolish mistakes in her class, rather then explain what they had done wrong like they usually would, while Professor Sprout was looking extremely tired and haggard from trying to increase the quality of her greenhouses before they were used by the other schools.

Cedric, having expressed his wishes to become the Hogwarts champion, had been trying extra hard in his classes, while touching up on his excellent Transfiguration abilities in his spare time – which was now quite plentiful with the cancelling of the inter-house Quidditch tournament. Many would laugh at him for trying to increase that particular skill of his rather than try and learn more curses and hexes, but Cedric knew better; after all, the greatest wizards in both history and today were quite adept at that particular branch of magic – Merlin, Helga Hufflepuff and Albus Dumbledore to name a few.

Archie, unlike Cedric, rarely, if ever, found himself with spare time. If he wasn't doing his homework from his NEWT classes, he was researching the theory behind the ideas in the book Lucile gave him, as well as working out ways in which he could put it to practise. Any free time he could have possibly had was spent reading through a book on Occlumency Harry had lent him by request, knowing that, now, with his change in situation, complete control of over mind was imperative. His episode with Moody back in the DADA classroom was evidence of that.

The evening in which the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegates were scheduled to arrive found the majority of the school standing out by the castle entrance near the great lake. The seventh years were exempt from any compulsory activities the rest of the school must abide by due to it being their final NEWT year, however, some had seen it fit to make their way down and witness the much-anticipated event.

"I'm freezing my balls off out here," Archie said in a shivering voice, "why didn't I think to bring a warming potion?"

Harry rolled his eyes and discreetly cast a warming charm on his friend "Wow," he exclaimed sarcastically "that was hard."

Archie let out a sigh of relief as warmth spread to every part of his body due to the charm Harry cast, "Thanks mate," he shook his head with a grin "I probably should have paid attention during that particular Charms lesson."

"Or you could read a book that doesn't involve Potions for once in your life?" Harry countered unhelpfully "that one was in the third year book, dumb-ass."

"Hey," Archie turned to Harry, trying to think of something witty to say "shut-up."

Harry snorted in amusement as a spec on the horizon caught everyone's attention. It was much too small to exactly tell who or what it was though.

"Is that a flying carriage?" Archie wondered out loud as the students around them looked to him in confusion – it was still much too far away to tell.

Harry touched the side of his glasses softly before speaking "Yes," he squinted his eyes reflexively "it's being carried by winged horses – must be Beauxbatons."

"How can you see it?" Archie whispered to Harry who merely grinned at him in response "you know why I can."

"I'm just that good Archades," Harry pat the taller boy on his head "I'm just that good."

"You're an idiot, is what you are," Archie scoffed in amusement "I think I know what you did anyway, I just didn't know enchanting was one of the abilities in your skills repertoire."

"Idiot, am I now?" Harry smirked at his friend "you know, they made us bring dress robes this year, there must be some kind of ball – I'm thinking of asking Stephanie, she's come into her own rather nicely, if I must say so . . ."

Archie punched his friend in the arm lightly as Harry hid his wince "Don't even joke about that," Archie grinned at his friend "besides, I know where your attention will be this year, ah, and there she is right now."

During their conversation, the incoming carriage transporting the Beauxbatons students to Hogwarts had landed before having the single door open slowly. From the open door, an impossibly tall woman strode out and allowed Dumbledore to kiss her hand. From behind her, students dressed in pale blue robes made of fine silk strode out, however, two girls in particular caught Harry's and Archie's attention.

A girl with flowing silver-blonde hair strode alongside a girl with ebony locks. Archie's eyes were glued to the girl who was unmistakably Stephanie while Harry looked on in amusement – the girls' uniforms at Beauxbatons were definitely flattering; especially compared to the Hogwarts' ones.

The way in which every teenage male in the general vicinity stared dumbly at Fleur was what Harry found amusing – they wouldn't be staring like that if they knew how annoying she could be; or maybe they would, if they were thinking with their 'other' heads.

As the Beauxbatons students made their way into the castle, no doubt to unpack before the welcoming feast that evening, the mast of an old Frigate style ship broke the surface of the water in the Great Lake. The mast was followed by the rest of the ship soon after, revealing an almost skeletal looking sailing ship with ghastly looking sails and portholes lit with candlelight, serving to add to the overall macabre look about it.

The ship sailed over as close to the shore as possible until a wooden plank was dropped onto the shore so that the inhabitants of the ghostly looking ship could disembark onto the land. A tall and thin man looking man dressed in warm looking clothes lined with silver fur, much like his hair, stepped off the wooden plank and approached Dumbledore to engulf him in a friendly hug as they spoke amongst themselves.

The students were all dressed in heavy over cloaks lined with dark fur. It was easy to see that they were much more accustomed to the cold then their French counterparts.

"Look, it's Krum," a fourth year girl pointed out as none other than Viktor Krum got off one of the boats and approached the castle, his peers following close behind.

"Hey," Archie spoke up "maybe people won't bug you as much for autographs now that Krum is here?" he tried to sound hopeful, but the group of girls not three meters from their position, pointing and giggling at them said otherwise.

"Oh well, one can always hope," Archie sniggered at Harry's annoyance.

"Whatever, let's go eat, I'm hungry," he hadn't eaten all day, preferring to avoid the Great Hall and his adoring fans whenever possible. Now, however, he was just too hungry to care, a feast with his name on it was waiting for him in the Great Hall.

The students were all seated in the Great Hal that evening, waiting for the foreign students to get settled and make their way down so that the feast could begin. The hall, and the tables themselves, was magically enlarged as to accommodate for their guests.

Finally, when everyone was seated and the preparations complete, Dumbledore rose from his chair to address the students.

"For those of you who didn't listen, or have forgotten since I told you last, this year, Hogwarts will play host to the Triwizard tournament," he began merrily, despite the fact that everyone knew this, they remained quite nonetheless to hear what the headmaster had to say "A single champion will be chosen from each school to compete in a series of magical contests, very dangerous magical contests at that. Now, let me be clear when I say this, if chosen, you stand alone, and trust me when I say that these contests are not for the faint hearted or ill prepared. More on that later though, for now, please join me in welcoming the exquisite students of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic along with their headmistress, Madam Maxime."

The doors of the Great Hall burst open revealing a smiling Madam Maxime followed by ten or so students. Not far behind the large headmistress were Stephanie, Fleur and Gabrielle, being the only three Archie recognized of the group.

"Don't look now, but there's Jacques at the back," Harry murmured to Archie under his breath. Indeed, on further inspection, the recently dubbed 'super-douche' was bringing up the rear with what the brown haired boy could only assume to be his friends.

"I'm going to enjoy this year," Archie grinned maliciously as Harry snorted in amusement.

The tall Beauxbatons headmistress made her way over to the head table where she took a seat beside Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, the Beauxbatons students however, made their way over to the Ravenclaw table to find themselves some seats. Archie found his heartbeat steadily increasing as Stephanie approached them with Fleur and Gabrielle following close behind.

"Hey Archie," Stephanie greeted him with a hug as the other students made themselves comfortable at the Ravenclaw table "we've been situated in the Ravenclaw tower so we'll be sitting over here with you lot."

"Don't sound too disappointed Stephanie," Harry replied as he eyed Archie in amusement.

Archie was glaring at Roger who was seated directly beside them and eyeing Fleur with lust clearly in his eyes "Move bitch," Archie barked angrily "the lady wants a seat."

Seeing as he was not going to get a reaction out of the boy, Archie shoved him across so Stephanie could sit beside him "Oh look Steph, this seat's free."

Stephanie took the seat with a grin as Fleur and Gabrielle sat directly across from them, a mere look from Harry was more than enough to get his peers to make sure they were free.

"Potter," Fleur greeted him as she took her seat pointedly ignoring the stares she was attracting from practically every heterosexual male in the hall.

"Fleur," he tilted his head thoughtfully "It's Potter now? You wound me," he grinned as she looked down at him with faux superiority.

"I 'ave been instructed by a valuable source zat you are a bad influence," she eyed her sister with amusement as the little girl was glaring at her ex-hero, no doubt still angry at his thoughts on bunny rabbits.

"Don't be like that Gabby," he said in the kindest voice he could muster "I only said that because I was feeling rather ill on that particular day," he discreetly took a fork under the table as he was speaking, his absurd – for him – behaviour demanding enough attention that no one but Fleur noticed "here, I got you a present, forgive me?"

Gabrielle looked ecstatic that her idol had finally seen the light and apologised while everyone else was looking at Harry as if he'd grown a second head. Fleur, in particular, looked rather amused.

"What in Merlin's name Harry – wait, Gabby, don't open that!" it was too late however as the girl had eagerly torn into her gift, the prospect of possibly receiving an engagement ring from her beloved exciting the young part-Veela beyond belief.

Gabby opened the box and let out a shocked gasp. The girls watching on looked in eagerly, wondering what Harry Potter could have gotten the little girl – those that did immediately wish they hadn't, for within the box lay a severed rabbit head.

Gabrielle let out an ear-piercing shriek as Harry quickly Transfigured the box, and its contents, back into a fork before anyone could notice what was inside. Fleur was making placating hand motions over to Madam Maxime, who had franticly risen from her seat at the sound of the young girl's distress.

Archie and Stephanie palmed their faces as Fleur was trying to soothe her crying little sister, not looking angered in the least by Harry's trick, merely amused.

"You know, shouldn't you be a little angry at what Harry did?" Archie asked the beautiful blonde girl, who just shrugged nonchalantly at the claim, Gabrielle had ran off to sit with some of the other students at the Ravenclaw table, ones closer to her age and more bunny-friendly.

"She 'as been an annoying little brat for zee entire trip from France," she smirked in Harry's direction, who was the perfect picture of innocence right then "she got what she deserved."

Many of the people listening in to their conversation on the Ravenclaw table looked at the two boys with envy at how familiar they were with the two beautiful girls. Fleur's natural Veela charm seemed to be working wonders already though, with boys staring at her lustfully while girls looked at her balefully.

"You should probably work on reigning in that aura," Harry quipped as Dumbledore went to address the hall again.

"And now, would you please join my in welcoming our friends form the North, the proud sons of Durmstrang, and their high master, Igor Karkaroff!"

The Durmstrang students, lead by Karkaroff, strode into the hall; their fur-lined cloaks had been removed now that they were within the warmer castle, showing off robes of blood red. Like the Beauxbatons students, the ten or so Durmstrang ones quickly chose to take a seat at the Slytherin table.

Viktor Krum looked to be scanning the hall, as if looking for someone. When he found what he was looking for, many people were surprised to see him give a polite nod to Harry Potter, especially after the boy practically single-handedly won the Quidditch World Cup for England, and in doing so, beat Bulgaria.

"The tournament will officially begin after the feast," Dumbledore's voice broke out across the hall "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home! Don't be afraid to speak with our guests, it may, of course, be a valuable learning experience for you both!"

With that said, the aged headmaster clapped his hands, immediately filling the platters with food, as usual. However, the selection was much larger than usual, it seems the house elves had outdone themselves. Harry recognized a few French and German native cuisines amidst the standard chicken, pudding and potatoes.

"Could you please pass me zee Bouillabaisse?" Fleur asked Roger Davis with a large smile that didn't quite look natural combined with the mischievous looks she was sending Harry.

"T-this one?" Roger asked with an uncharacteristic stutter. Roger Davis was Ravenclaw's answer to Casanova, being a regular flirt with the majority of the girls in the school, to be reduced to a stuttering pile of goo under Fleur's gaze was a testament to the girl's beauty.

"Yes, thank you," she smiled benignly at him as his face flushed further.

Harry rolled his eyes in annoyance before looking over to Roger and saying, "Roger, pass me the potatoes."

"There's a plate of potatoes right in front of . . ." he didn't finish his sentence for he was on the receiving end of one of Harry's super glares.

"Right, u-um, I didn't want a-any anyway," he chuckled nervously as he passed Harry the platter of potatoes that he didn't need, much to the displeasure of those around him.

Stephanie snorted at the spectacle and leaned in to whisper something to the extremely uncomfortable Archie (those damn Beauxbatons school robes were magnificent!) "Those two were made for each other."

"Shh," Archie shushed her, getting over his unease when he remembered he was speaking with, in reality, his first and best friend ever since he was a child. Just because she was incredibly beautiful, had the prettiest eyes, nicest face, perfect jaw-line, wonderful breasts . . . "don't let him hear you, he'll probably never let it happen just in spite you if he thinks you're talking about his love life."

"Or lack thereof, according to you," Stephanie grinned "these girls around here look really pretty since the last time I saw them, you sure you haven't had a shot at any of them?" she asked teasingly.

She missed Archie's mumble of 'not as pretty as some' as he coughed to cover it "Nah," he shrugged nonchalantly "they're not my cup of tea, you know?"

"And what is your cup of tea then?" she asked with a grin. Archie quickly changed the subject though, not willing to answer that question and possibly make her feel uncomfortable in front of all these people.

"Look at how all these idiots are looking at Fleur and you," Archie joked lamely "must get annoying, huh?"

Stephanie shrugged "You get used to it," she glared over at Jacques, who was eyeing her with a frown "sometimes, it can get rather annoying."

"He still bothering you?" he asked seriously as Stephanie laughed, the sound was like music to Archie's ears.

"I'm not a hopeless little girl anymore Archie," she winked at him, causing the boy to become flustered "I can take care of myself, and besides, if I get attacked like I did at the World Cup again, I got you to save me, right?"

Archie chuckled, the flush never really leaving his face as she started to feel hot under the collar "Right, of course," when did talking to Stephanie become so hard? Did he become even more attracted to her since she left for Beauxbatons?

No, he didn't think that was entirely true. Maybe he was just in love with her personality before she left, and now that she came back after so long, looking more beautiful than any other girl he'd ever laid eyes on, he'd become extremely physically attracted to her as well.

"'Ow long do you think it will take for zose two to finally get together?" Fleur disguised the question by putting the goblet to her mouth and taking a drink immediately after asking. If it weren't for the loud and excited chatter going on around them, and the fact that Archie's attention was completely devoted to Stephanie, he probably would have heard the blonde.

"End of the year," Harry shrugged lazily "she knows she likes him, and not in a platonic way either, she just has to admit it to herself," they both chanced a glance at the soon-to-be couple "all it will take is for Archie to do something not stupid in regards to her, and she'll realize it."

"'Ow very insightful of you," Fleur grinned "I didn't peg you for one to look into other people's love lives so closely."

Harry scoffed "Hardly," he motioned over to the talking duo "that doesn't take any skill at all to read, it's so bloody obvious."

"Unfortunately," Fleur sighed "she 'as seen Archie as a brother type figure for so long, zat it is 'ard for 'er to see 'im as anything different."

"I guess," Harry shrugged, somewhat uncomfortably, before deciding to change the subject "those robes don't flatter you at all, someone with your figure should be wearing a nice tight dress or nothing at all – I happen to have nothing at all back in my room if you're interested."

Fleur snorted in amusement, not angered in the slightest by Harry's crude remark "Do you always make lewd comments when zee conversation you are 'aving with someone turns to uncomfortable grounds?"

"No," Harry shook his head "that's only with people I'm sexually attracted to, otherwise, I usually just glare at people when it happens– works just as well."

"I see," Fleur smirked at him "you just did it again."

"Whatever," he shrugged carelessly, with amusement dancing in his eyes "just eat your fish soup, wench."

Fleur let out an amused snort, pleased with her minor victory, as rare as it was, before doing as Harry suggested and finishing her meal.

"Oh they are so hot for each other," Archie shook his head "I give it two months."

"One and a half," Stephanie nodded to herself confidently "Two months is too long, it's just past Christmas, if anything happens between them two, it'll definitely be before Christmas."

"We'll see," Archie chuckled, not willing to put money on anything when it regarded Harry; his friend was just too unpredictable for something like that to be profitable.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause as everyone's attention was drawn to the two strangers seated at the head table along with the professors – "and Mister Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. The man's toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall in his mouldy old tailcoat, now approached Dumbledore, carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students, mainly though, Harry noticed, from the Gryffindor table – bloody glory hunters.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," continued Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line," general mutterings of disapproval filled the hall at the reminder of the age requirement.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once the Goblet of Fire has selected a champion, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to compete before you drop your name into the goblet," the grave message sapped all the excitement out of the hall, however, Dumbledore broke the silence again when he spoke once more in his usual jovial tone "Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"Well, that was fun," Archie exclaimed jovially with his arms wrapped around Harry and Stephanie's shoulders. Harry, slowly and deliberately, removed the offending appendage from his shoulder with a sour look on his face as Stephanie merely shook her head in exasperation.

"You entering Steph? You're seventeen now, right?" Archie asked, the worry in his voice clearly apparent, though she seemed not to take notice. Friends cared for your welfare, after all, it meant nothing like that.

"Nope, I'm kind of studying to be a healer, I'm not cut out for this sort of this," Stephanie shrugged before turning to Fleur "Fleur is though, she'll get picked for sure."

"Must be a poor standard at Beauxbatons if you're so sure about that," Harry interrupted dryly, earning a glare from Fleur.

"Or it could mean that Fleur is just that good," Stephanie shot back with a teasing grin.

Harry looked over to Fleur as the quartet made their way, slowly, towards the large doors leading out to the entrance hall – there seemed to be a hold up of some sorts – "Or everyone else is just that bad," he quipped, earning a twin glare from both Stephanie and Fleur this time.

"I don't see you trying to enter, Potter," she reminded the spectacled teen coldly, he didn't seem to be affected by her tone though.

"Waste of time," he shrugged "winner only gets one thousand galleons, what kind of shit prize is that for putting your life on the line? No thanks," he shook his head "if it were one hundred thousand galleons prize money, that would be a different story."

"Cedric's going to enter for Hogwarts," Archie informed the two girls "he'll get it for sure – hanging around us has made him a fairly decent wizard."

"Compared to the other idiots around here anyways," Harry reminded Archie.

"Ouch," Archie chuckled "you're not in a happy mood tonight."

Harry shrugged helplessly "I'm tired, I get particularly cynical when I'm tired."

"I hadn't noticed," Fleur whispered to Stephanie sarcastically, as the two shared a soft laugh.

"Whispering is just rude," Archie informed with a frown "unless it's girl business, which you're more than welcome to share with me too, you know," he exclaimed, almost a little too eagerly. The girls promptly ignored his comment, which Harry was slightly disappointed about, he was hoping for another knee in the groin for that, just like the good old days.

"I wonder who'll get in for Durmstrang," Archie wondered out loud, Fleur and Stephanie, not knowing anything about the other school's students, shrugged helplessly, just as clueless as he on the matter.

"Krum will," Harry informed them surprisingly "I've spoken to him a few times before, he's powerful in his own right, compared to the rest of those monkeys anyway," a Durmstrang student with the front of his blood red robes covered in food walked by them, accentuating his point perfectly "better watch out for him if you get in Fleur, Durmstrang put a particularly strong emphasis on battle magic and duelling – he's quite good at both."

"And you think I'm not?" Fleur asked haughtily "you know nothing of my skills."

Harry shrugged, choosing not to respond to her question at all.

"How have you been dealing with your little problem, by the way?" Stephanie suddenly asked Archie, it was crystal clear to the four exactly what she was talking about.

"We found I place I can stay shacked up in during those times," Archie shrugged "I've used it twice already, it works fairly well."

"That's good to hear," she said "hope nobody finds out, that would be bad . . ."

"Finds out what?" Fred Weasley piped up from behind them, all too intrigued by the prospect of a secret.

"Is there something you're not telling us?" his brother followed up the line of questioning with one of his own.

"A way to bypass the age line, perhaps?" Fred sounded a little too gleeful by the prospect.

"Yeah," Harry answered, before the others could deny their claims "I was going to try an aging potion, it's so dim witted and simple that Dumbledore would have surely overlooked it."

The twins looked at each other with dawning comprehension while Archie tried very, very hard not to laugh.

"That's brilliant Potter!" George Weasley exclaimed excitedly.

"Yeah, we owe you one – we have some brewing to do, brother of mine," Fred said.

"Indeed we do, my most handsome partner in crime," George said.

"Oh stop, we all know you're the better looking one," Fred said.

"You flatter me," George replied "let's call it even and say that we're both sexy devils."

"I can live with that," Fred exclaimed happily as the two skipped off to god knows where.

"I can't believe zey fell for that," Fleur frowned in disapproval "'Ogwarts students are not terribly smart, it seems."

"Nah," Archie waved off her comment casually "we're plenty smart, it's just cruel bastards like Harry picking on the less fortunate."

"Not my fault they're stupid," Harry shrugged "it's what they get for being Rangas, the orange hurts my eyes."

"Harsh," Stephanie chuckled "I suppose I'd get tired of the colour too though if I had to see it every day – I feel sorry for whichever parent isn't the red-head."

"They both are," Harry and Archie replied simultaneously "they're seven of them too, unfortunately," Harry added.

"Ouch," Stephanie winced as Fleur chuckled.

They had finally made it back to the Ravenclaw tower, where the Beauxbatons students were also going to be staying. It seemed that the three male students from Beauxbatons were to be sharing a dorm room with the sixth year boys . . .

"You're not sleeping in our room," Archie threw Jacques out of the room, along with his two buddies, before throwing three pillows and blankets at them through the door "Honestly, you should be glad I'm giving you this opportunity and not just getting payback on you in your sleep – the couches are that way."

The three French boys glared angrily at Archie but accepted nonetheless, it's not like the couches in the Ravenclaw common room looked terribly uncomfortable anyway, and they wouldn't have to share a room with those English pigs to boot!

"What's up with you and Harry?" Stephanie asked as she settled into her bed beside Fleur's. The two, with the four other female students, were split into two groups and sent into the sixth or seventh year girls' dorm rooms "You've taken quite the interest in flirting with him, like, all the time now."

"I am not flirting," Fleur said indignantly "I am merely allowing him to enjoy my company, besides," She shrugged "despite his crude sense of humour, he is rather funny a lot of the time."

"Oh my god," Stephanie exclaimed with a huge grin "you have a crush on Harry Potter!"

"Shh!" Fleur hissed at her friend angrily "What do you think you're doing shouting out a thing like that around here! You know someone can overhear you easily!"

"You didn't deny it," Stephanie smugly reminded her.

"That's because there is nothing to deny, there is simply nothing between us," Fleur grinned as the perfect payback entered her mind "unlike Archie and yourself, of course."

"Archie is just a really good friend!" Stephanie snapped; she seemed flustered "will you stop mentioning that, by the way? I told you about our situation already."

"And I told you that you're an idiot," Fleur grinned at her friend "hopefully you'll realize it before it's too late – okay, okay, stop!" fleur laughed as he dodged pillows from Stephanie "I won't mention it anymore if you stop mentioning me liking Potter, I just ate dinner after all!"

Stephanie snorted and settled down into her bed, tomorrow would be a big day, she was sure of it.

As it was a Saturday – the day of Halloween – students would normally head down to breakfast later than usual, seeing as there were no classes and everyone enjoyed sleeping in. This didn't seem to be the case however, now that the Goblet of Fire was waiting for potential champions to put their names in the Great Hall.

"I don't see why you couldn't wait until tonight," Harry yawned into his hand, Archie had practically dragged him down to the hall at nine o'clock to watch people put their names in the goblet. The Durmstrang lot had mostly put their names in already – he didn't know why, Krum was going to get it anyway.

"I wanted to see all the trouble your little trick will cause," Archie grinned, "you do know that Weasleys four and five weren't the only ones who heard what you said about the aging potion, right?"

"Oh," Harry said, surprised "I totally forgot about that, to be honest."

The Goblet of Fire was still placed where Dumbledore had left it last night, except now, there was a single golden ring going around it, ten feet or so in all directions.

"Impressive age line," Harry observed carefully "the runes used aren't even visible, but they have to be within the ring somehow, maybe under one of the tiles?"

"I was thinking about that too," Archie confessed "I doubt Dumbledore would be allowed to do anything to the box, so I'd probably agree with you."

Archie, Harry and a few dozen students or so, hung around as people approached the Goblet to put their names up for consideration. Three people had been caught trying to bypass the age line so far, all three using the age potion Harry had joked about last night. There were two Ravenclaw fifth years and a Hufflepuff sixth year.

"Impressive beards," Archie joked as three Durmstrang students put their names in "you think Dumbledore made the ward do that?"

"Probably," Harry shrugged "the beards do look remarkably like his own."

Just then, Fleur and Stephanie finally arrived in the Great Hall, Gabrielle not too far behind them. The little girl sprinted towards the duo and launched herself at Archie, pointedly ignoring Harry.

"Archie!" she squealed, not having had a proper chance to greet him last night due to certain circumstances "I am sorry for not saying hello last night, forgive me?" those damn big blue eyes, ones just like her sister's only, cute, rather than beautiful, were practically shining with unshed tears.

"No problem Gabby," he chuckled as her fake tears instantly disappeared only to be replaced with a large beaming smile. The girl instantly launched herself onto his back, hugging him around the neck and forcing Archie to give her a piggyback again. She seemed to like situating herself there.

"Gabrielle," Fleur scolded irritably "It isn't proper for a lady to behave in such a way in public, this isn't like back at the inn we stayed at in the summer."

"A lady needs her noble steed," she giggled at her own little joke "Archie is my steed, so it is proper," the reasoning was perfectly sound if you asked her.

Fleur shrugged nonchalantly "I tried," she turned a grin onto the others "Mother and Father cannot be annoyed with me for not trying to dissuade her now, yes?"

"Is that a question?" Harry deadpanned "what the hell is that?" he reverted back to English in shock at what was in Fleur's hand.

"It is a bit of parchment with my name on it, I will be entering it into the Goblet," Indeed, in her hand was a bit of parchment, but it was the frilliest, scented and overall disgusting bit of parchment he'd ever seen.

"That is, without a doubt, the most homosexual thing I've ever seen," Harry just couldn't take his eyes off it, it was just so, so, what the hell?!

"How can it be homosexual if I am not a boy?" she hotly replied "besides, with this bit of parchment, I will be able to tell if I am chosen before my name is announced – it sticks out, no?"

"It definitely sticks out," Archie put it rather mildly "hey look, I think Krum's about to put his name in."

Indeed, the Bulgarian international seeker was striding up to the Goblet confidently before casually dropped his bit of parchment into the flames. Harry noticed, with amusement, that he smiled down at the Elf-rights girl after doing so.

Noticing Harry and having finished eye-fucking Hermione, Viktor made his way over to Harry, his hands interlaced behind his back with his chest puffed out as he walked, it looked rather militaristic, now that Harry thought about it.

"Potter," he greeted "Potter's friends," Harry smirked at the Quidditch star's greeting. He spoke with an accent Harry couldn't quite place; German or Slavic would be his guess.

"I prefer to call them my minions Viktor," he quipped, ignoring the glared the four others present sent him.

"I do not understand," he said with a puzzled frown as Harry waved him off.

"Don't worry about it," he looked over to the Goblet, Cedric had just put his name inside while surrounded by his Hufflepuff friends who were all laughing and cheering, "how was your country's reaction to Bulgaria's loss?"

Krum winced slightly as he recalled that particular event "Not so good," he answered, "they vere most displeased by our loss, they demanded the cup next time though – luckily for us, you vill not be playing."

The two international Quidditch stars chatting about their sport of choice, obviously, attracted the attention of everyone in the room. None of them, however, were brave enough to approach them or do anything about it.

"England's going to be getting a few new players before the next tournament, a new seeker too, most likely," Archie greeted Cedric, who had just arrived after ditching his Hufflepuff friends "So, Elf-girl tickle your fancy then?"

Krum had a look of confusion at the phrase, so Harry elaborated "Hermione, girl you were ogling."

"Herm-oy-nee-nee?" Viktor tried to pronounce the name he heard "That is the girl's name? She is very pretty."

"If you say so," Harry shrugged as Fred and George Weasley pranced around the Goblet, ready to put their names in now that they've taking their aging potion "hold on, this is what I'm here for."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the twins leapt across the aging line, and, seeing as there was no immediate reaction, they believed their scheme to have been a success. Harry however, had seen the age-line flash brightly as they crossed.

The twins threw in their bits of parchment as silence followed their act. When nothing happened, they cheered in unison amidst the surprised students. A rumbling noise came from the Goblet, one that stopped the twins' celebration instantly as they turned to see what was happening. The flame turned a deep purple before lashing out at them and sending them flying back over the line.

When the twins shook themselves out of their daze, they looked at each other to see fully-grown white beards adorning their brother's faces.

"You said . . ."

"Didn't you . . ."

That was all they got out as the two started brawling right in the middle of the Great Hall, great entertainment indeed.

"Stupid buffoons," Fleur scoffed at the fighting boys, the girl was getting rather irritated at the fact that nearly every boy in the room, save a few, had been either sending 'secret' glances in her direction – often – or was openly staring at her.

"I must return to the ship, I vill see you later Potter, Potter's minions," Fleur, Archie, Stephanie and Cedric looked at the retreating back of Viktor Krum with shock as Harry grinned triumphantly at them.

"Bless him," he sighed happily, "he just made my day."

"Whatever, I may as well get this over and done with," Fleur sighed as she approached the Goblet that still had students crowded around it. As Fleur approached it, boys were tripping over their feet to get out of her way while the girls were glaring at her defiantly.

Fleur casually crossed the line and slipped in her parchment before turning back and heading over to her friends.

"I guess we'll find out tonight who will be chosen," Fleur grinned in anticipation "I cannot wait."

Usually, the Halloween feast was one the students of Hogwarts looked forward to; it was one of, if not the, largest feast of the year, the decorations were usually visually stunning and the general atmosphere of the castle was usually on par with that of a Christmas holiday.

This year, however, with already having had a large and delicious feast the night previous, and the anticipation of the Goblet of Fire's decision that was soon to occur, could you blame the vast majority of the students for not caring one iota about their food?

All throughout the feast, students would look up at the hall towards the Goblet of Fire that was placed by Dumbledore's chair, hoping it would spontaneously shoot out the first name and end their torturous wait.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, High master Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students who would look his way while Mister Crouch continued to look bored and uninterested.

"Well, the Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," said the aged Headmaster of Hogwarts. "I estimate that it requires one more minute, so we are very close to finding out the identity of the three champions. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table and go through into the next chamber," he indicated towards a door behind the staff table, Moody was standing beside it, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand with a flick of his wrist and swept it once in an arc like fashion before him; at once, all the candles, except those inside the carved pumpkins that were customary in a Halloween feast, were extinguished, setting the mood in the room as they were plunged into semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire was now easily the most recognizable object in the entire room, shining even more brightly than Dumbledore's ridiculously bright coloured clothing; the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames were almost painful on the eyes.

"Merlin," Archie mumbled under his breath "Dumbledore has quite the flair for the dramatic, don't you think?"

The flames inside the Goblet turned from blue to red as they sparked angrily before a tongue of flame shot into the air, a burned piece of parchment accompanying the action – the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore snatched the piece of parchment out of the air with a practised eased and held it by the light of the fire, which had turned back into their regular bluish-white, so he could read the name.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he called out in a strong, clear voice "will be Viktor Krum!"

"Told you," Harry said as he played with a golden fork while everyone else had their eyes glued on the goblet "it's not like it was going to be any of the others."

A thunderous applause broke out for the international Quidditch star as he rose up from the Slytherin table and headed towards Dumbledore. He then walked passed the head table and through the room, passing Moody on the way, who opened the door to the small chamber for him, before closing it behind the boy.

Above all the applause, Karkaroff's booming voice could be easily distinguished "Bravo, Viktor," he said it so loudly that Madame Maxime had started slightly in surprise "I knew you had it in you!"

The applause died down once again when the flames turned back into their angry red, ready to choose another champion. Quickly, another tongue of flame shot out from the Goblet, spitting out a familiar frilly bit of parchment with it.

Harry looked over to the surprised Fleur with a grin as he mouthed the words 'so gay'.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," he called "is Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur stood up gracefully from her seat amidst the thunderous applause and walked towards Dumbledore, much like Krum had done, but she chose to bypass Harry on the way, nudging him with an extra hard sway of her hips as she did so. She seemed fairly pleased with herself, Harry thought, as he rolled his eyes. It was rather amusing to see two of the other Beauxbatons students glaring with tear stained eyes at the part Veela, they didn't seem to pleased with the Goblet's selection.

When the flames in the Goblet turned an angry red once again, the hall lapsed into silence once more. If the anticipation in the room earlier was almost palpable, Harry would liken it now to having a heavy blanket draped over them as they waited, it was so obvious. Next would be the Hogwarts champion.

Another tongue of fire shot out, and with it, another bit of parchment. Dumbledore snatched it from the air and peeked conspiratorially at it before allowing a large grin to mar his bearded and aged features.

"The Hogwarts Champion," he called for the last time "is Cedric Diggory!"

Harry and Archie both winced as the applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table of the likes they'd never heard before. There was stamping, cheering and screaming coming from the Hufflepuff table in particular (the Slytherin table was notoriously quiet) as Cedric walked past them with a broad grin and a wink over to Harry and Archie. The applause lasted for a long time, even after he disappeared into the chamber behind the head table; it was quite a while before Dumbledore could resume speaking again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily, as the last tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real . . ."

Dumbledore speech came to an abrupt halt when he noticed that the Goblet's bluish flames, once again, turned an angry red. Another long flame shot out from the Goblet, and with it, another bit of parchment, much to the shock of those in the room.

Dumbledore, almost automatically, reached out to grab the bit of parchment with practised ease. He stared, seemingly in shock, at what the paper was telling him for several moments as the confusion and anticipation of the students in the hall started to reach its crescendo.

Dumbledore looked out to the sea of students, his mouth open in shock, before uttering a name no one was expecting to hear.

"Neville Longbottom."

Harry resisted the urge to let out a bark of laughter – Longbottom, in the Triwizard tournament? He probably would have laughed, if his doing so wouldn't scare the shit out of everyone in the hall, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The confused boy headed over to a frowning Dumbledore as each footstep echoed loudly in the silent hall. McGonagall approached Dumbledore with a frown and had a furious, whispered conversation with him as Neville disappeared into the chamber of the Triwizard champions.

"Well," Harry suddenly spoke up, snapping several students around him out of their dazes "This just got a hell of a lot more exciting."

Cedric turned from the fire he was gazing at when he heard the door to the chamber open. Imagine his surprise when Neville Longbottom, of all people, came strolling in casually with a frown marring his features.

"'Ave zey called for us?" Fleur spoke up first, noticing the perturbed fourth year.

Before the confused boy could answer the question, the door to the chamber opened again, this time, a little more forcefully, allowing in an excited looking Triwizard official. Bagman was the first to enter the chamber with the champions, it seemed, as he grabbed Neville by the arm and led him towards the other champions.

"Extraordinary," he muttered, "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . Lady, may I introduce to you – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Krum looked between the two newest occupants of the room, his face darkening, while Fleur simply let out a soft laugh "Very amusing sir, but seriously, what is zat you wanted?"

"Amusing?" Bagman frowned, Cedric was astounded by the ex-Beater's confusion "I kid you not, Miss Delacour, Longbottom's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's eyebrows contracted as he frowned in disapproval, Cedric also noticed that Fleur wasn't looking too happy either.

"Evidently, zere 'as been a mistake," she countered reasonably "'E cannot compete, 'e is too young."

"That's why it's amazing," Bagman countered, motioning to the oddly silent Boy-who-lived. "Unfortunately, as you know, the age-line was only introduced in this tournament as a precaution, anybody's name that comes out of the Goblet, illegally or not, is bound to compete," he frowned, his round, boyish features making it look rather ridiculous "At least I think – you'd have to ask Bartemius . . ."

The door banged open again, this time allowing in a large groups of people: Dumbledore strode in quickly, followed by Mister Crouch, Madame Maxime, High Master Karkaroff, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Cedric heard the general consternation of the students in the hall briefly before the door closed once again, shutting the noise out.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur called to her headmistress "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" she exclaimed disdainfully when she referred to the plump boy. Neville bristled in anger at the remark.

"You listen here Frenchie, I don't know where you get off . . ."

"Quiet Longbottom!" McGonagall snapped.

Madame Maxime drew herself to her full height, striding further into the room and batting the large chandelier out of her way as she passed "What is ze meaning of zis Dumbly-dorr?" she asked imperiously.

"The lady poses an interesting question, Dumbledore, I would like to know the answer to that also," Karkaroff demanded angrily, "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't recall reading such a clause in the rules that stated the home school were allowed to have two champions. Perhaps I missed it?" he asked before giving a short and nasty laugh.

"Ridiculous!" Madame Maxime exclaimed in disgust, her hand resting on Fleur's shoulder in a comforting fashion, her opal-covered hand was almost as large as the girl's torso "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that you age line would have kept the younger, more," he eyed Neville before speaking "impetuous, students from entering," his eyes were colder than ever as he spoke "otherwise, of course, we would have brought more candidates from our schools."

"It's no one's fault but Longbottom's, Karkaroff," Snape silkily chipped in "Don't go blaming Dumbledore because of a child's determination to break the rules – he's been crossing lines since he first arrived here, with that abnormally large head of his . . ."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore interrupting his Potions professor firmly. Snape immediately quieted down, though his eyes were still as malevolent as ever, especially as the fire in the room reflected of his pitch-black orbs.

Dumbledore locked eyes with Neville, Cedric noticed, in a way Harry would sometimes do when he was asking you questions he really wanted the answers to.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Neville?" Dumbledore asked the fourth year tiredly.

"No," he snapped angrily, "I mean, I tried to, but I kept getting knocked back by that stupid age-line!" he had just realized what he had let out and flushed in embarrassment. Everyone in the room, sans Cedric, Bagman, Crouch and Dumbledore, looked at him disdainfully at his admission.

"Did you ask an older student to put your name in the Goblet of Fire for you?" he pressed on, ignoring the glares being sent the boy's way.

"No," he frowned, before admitting sheepishly "I hadn't thought of that."

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" Madame Maxime angrily proclaimed.

"He could not have crossed the age line," McGonagall informed the French woman briskly "I'm sure we can all agree on that . . ."

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

"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore said, trying to be polite while placating the larger woman.

"Albus, you know perfectly well that you didn't make a mistake!" McGonagall snapped "Really, what nonsense, Neville could not have crossed the line himself, and as Dumbledore believes he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, that should be enough for all of you!"

"Mister Crouch . . . Mister Bagman," Karkaroff's voice broke the silence "you are our, er, impartial judges. Surely you must agree that this is most irregular."

Bagman looked to Mister Crouch nervously, wiping his round face with a handkerchief, while the older man stood just outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-covered in shadows. The effect made him look slightly eerie and much older than he was. When he spoke, however, it was in the same crisp tone as usual "We must follow the rules," he spoke curtly "and the rules state that the Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract – Longbottom is forced to compete, or risk losing his magic."

"You heard him," Bagman said, beaming, as he turned back to Karkaroff and Maxime, as if the matter were closed.

"You will re-ignite the Goblet of Fire then, so that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang can keep submitting names until all schools have two champions," Karkaroff spoke up, dropping any forced politeness his voice once held and acting very cold "it is only fair, Dumbledore."

"That's just not possible," Bagman denied him "the Goblet of Fire will not re-ignite again until the start of the next tournament . . ."

"- In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkaroff snapped angrily "After all our negotiations, meetings and compromises, I hardly expected something like this to happen – I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Unfortunately for you, that's not an option, Karkaroff," Moody's voice spoke from the door, Cedric assumed he snuck in during all the fuss "Your boy needs to compete - binding magical contract, remember?" he smirked nastily "convenient, eh?"

Moody further entered the room, every time his right foot hit the ground; there was a loud 'clunk'.

"Care to elaborate?" Karkaroff sneered at Moody "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean," Cedric noticed the Durmstrang high master tried to sound calm, but the balling of his fists said something entirely different.

"Don't you?" Moody asked malevolently "obviously, someone put Longbottom's name in there, knowing the boy would have to compete if he was selected."

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

"I quite agree with Madame Maxime," Karkaroff said a little too quickly "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards . . . " Cedric noticed Moody give the French headmistress a disdainful look before continuing.

"If anyone's got a right to complain, it's Longbottom," Moody snapped. Interrupting the man "funnily enough, I don't hear him saying anything . . ."

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur asked angrily "We 'ave been 'oping to be selected for weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand galleons in prize money – It is an opportunity many would die for!"

"Maybe that's what someone is hoping for," Moody interrupted the angry French girl "that Longbottom is going to die for it!"

A tense silence followed that proclamation.

Ludo Bagman, trying to ease the tension in the room, looked to the heavily scarred ex-Auror with a nervous smile "Moody, my good man, what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody sees that the morning is wasted unless he discovers six plots to murder him before lunchtime," Karkaroff jeered at the man, "Apparently, he is teaching his students to fear assassination attempts too, an odd quality in a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, obviously Dumbledore has his reasons . . ."

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

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" Madam Maxime asked, throwing her huge hands up into the air.

"Because it would take one to hoodwink a magical artefact of that power," he sneered "someone well beyond the level of a fourth year. Only an extremely powerful Confundus charm could bamboozle something like the Goblet of Fire into doing his or her bidding!"

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," Karkaroff growled "forgive us, however, if we do not take the word of a paranoid psychopath to heart, would you?"

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody hissed menacingly, it sounded much more sinister than usual. He took a sip out of his flask before continuing "It was once my job to think the way that Dark Wizards do – perhaps you remember?"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore, warningly. Cedric had never heard anyone other than Harry refer to the man by his first name, it sounded a little weird, if he was honest with himself. He continued to watch the show with interest, noticing how Karkaroff's face was now burning in, what he assumed to be, anger.

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

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxine tried to interrupt him, however, Dumbledore was having none of it.

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have another alternative, I would love to hear it."

Dumbledore waiting for any suggestions, but Madame Maxime chose to remain silent, glaring at the headmaster. She wasn't the only one however, Snape looked livid, and Karkaroff furious. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Yes, shall we continue then?" Bagman asked as he clapped his hands together to draw everyone's attention "We've got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, if you'll do the honours?"

Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said "instructions, the advisers . . ."

He moved closer to the fire so everyone could see him as he spoke. Cedric noticed, rather suddenly, that Crouch looked rather ill up close. He had dark bags under his eyes and his skin looked extra pale.

"Each champion is allowed one adviser that must help the champion to the best of their abilities," Crouch informed them "this was another stipulation added to the holding of the tournament this year, in the hopes that the champions would be better prepared and less likely to come to harm during any of the tasks – this does not mean said tasks will be any less dangerous, however."

The champions were looking rather surprised by this proclamation as Neville eyed the headmaster almost hungrily. It disturbed Cedric a little.

"The professors currently on Hogwarts grounds, are, of course, viable options for any of you. Do not think that just because you are from a foreign school that you cannot select someone from Hogwarts, or vice-versa . . . your selections?"

Fleur didn't even need time to think as she named her choice "Madame Maxime, of course."

The large woman smiled warmly at her star pupil and placed both hands on her shoulders, showing that she was just as pleased as Fleur was with the situation.

"I chose the High Master," Krum motioned to Karkaroff, who smirked at the boy and nodded once, showing that he would support the International Quidditch star.

"Can I pick professor Dumbledore?" Neville asked hopefully as the Headmaster chuckled, others in the room, especially Snape and Karkaroff, didn't seem too pleased with the question.

"Apologies, my boy, but I am far too busy this year with organizing the tournament to burden myself with another heavy responsibility such as this, any other of the professors are viable options, though," Dumbledore smiled down at Neville, who seemed disappointed.

"Can I take Professor Moody then?" he asked eagerly as the scarred ex-Auror gave an ugly smile.

"If it is your choice," Crouch spoke up before looking at Cedric "You boy, who will you choose?"

"A question, before I make my decision," Cedric said, hoping he could choose who he really wanted to be his advisor "the person I nominate, must they help if they are asked? What I mean to say is, can they turn the request down?"

"No, they cannot," Crouch answered immediately "Aside from Dumbledore, anyone on the grounds is fair game, you could ask a Ghost if that is what you wish and they will be obliged to help you in any way you ask them to."

Cedric grinned excitedly "Then I choose Harry Potter!"

The students still seated in the Great Hall, waiting for the champions to re-emerge so they could go to bed, were surprised when the dor opened, only to reveal Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter," she spoke up with a slight Scottish accent to the silent hall "please make your way into the chamber, your presence is required."

"Fuck. Off," Harry cursed as everyone looked at him with different reactions – curiosity being the main one – "why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like what's about to happen?"

"Well," Archie spoke up jovially "the list of things you dislike outweighs the list of things you like by, like, a billion," he joked, though Harry didn't find it amusing "Statistically, you're most likely going to be right, aren't you?"

Stephanie, and several other students listening in, snickered at Harry who was just glaring at Archie as he stood from his chair.

"That was a rhetorical question smart ass," he sent one last glare to his werewolf friend before making his way over to McGonagall, who was holding the door open for him.

"You're looking rather fabulous tonight, Minerva," Harry quipped at the Transfigurations professor "have you lost weight?"

Harry walked right on past her after asking that question, leaving a sputtering Professor in his wake. The nerve! She did not lose weight, thank-you-very-much, she'd always been slim and had a good figure.

As Harry walked into the room, he was met with the sight of the champions, Snape, Moody, Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, Crouch and Bagman looking at him expectantly. He, however, didn't like the way Cedric was grinning at him – Fleur looked particularly amused too.

"Harry Potter," Crouch spoke up curtly "You have been selected to become Mister Diggory's advisor for the Triwizard tournament . . ."

Harry didn't let the man finish as he turned on his heel, ready to walk right back out, however, an angry and flustered Transfiguration professor was standing in his way.

"You are bound to perform this duty, unfortunately . . ."

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" Harry interrupted her as he tried to sidestep her and leave the room; Snape placed a firm hand on his shoulder though, stopping his advance.

Harry glanced at the offending appendage with a blank face "Severus," he spoke softly, infuriating Snape with his cheek. He grabbed Snape's hand by the wrist and casually tossed it off his shoulder, surprising the man with his strength "don't touch me please, I just had these robes cleaned."

"Unfortunately, Mister Potter," Dumbledore spoke up in a calm voice "Mister Diggory's selection of you as his adviser has automatically entered you into a binding magical contract – you must help him."

Harry turned to the headmaster "Firstly, I agreed to nothing, so I must do nothing," he looked to Karkaroff "secondly, I don't want to be in this room any longer than I have to be, his breath stinks."

"Why you arrogant little . . ."

Harry cut him off before he could continue, "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Harry said "I just find it hard to hear the words coming out of your mouth with all the shit that's in there from all the ass-licking you had to do to stay out of Azkaban – so sorry."

Moody let out a bark of laughter while Dumbledore frowned at him.

"Mister Potter!" he snapped, "you will apologise to high master Karkaroff this instant – he deserves yours, and my respect."

"Sorry for my snappish attitude headmaster," he told Dumbledore, completely ignoring the request to apologize to the fuming Durmstrang high master "but you can understand my irritation, can you not? Being forced into a magical contract against one's own will do that to most people."

The grin on Cedric's face didn't diminish one iota, only serving to further piss Harry off. Fleur seemed to be growing more amused with the situation also, much to her headmistress' confusion.

"As unfortunate as it is, Mister Potter," Dumbledore sighed, sending an apologetic look to the fuming Karkaroff "you are, indeed, bound to help Mister Diggory throughout this tournament in any way he asks you to," he sighed as he rubbed his temples "I assumed you were friends, why does this bother you so? As confused as we all are that he would select a student over a Professor for his adviser, I cannot deny that your help could be the defining factor on whether young Cedric lives or dies . . ."

"You're not helping, you know?" Harry interrupted him "what if I choose to deliberately give him shitty help so he can get himself killed? I assure you that the idea has crossed my mind at least twenty-seven times since I've come here."

Many in the room were confused when Cedric's grin only grew wider at the proclamation that his so-called friend would so willingly throw him to the Chimeras to die – Fleur understood perfectly however. It was rare to see Harry irritated this much, and you could tell when it happened by how much he started insulting people.

"You may only assist in ways Mister Diggory asks you to," Dumbledore frowned "There are only three tasks, I don't think it will take up too much of your time . . ."

"Potters," Snape sneered in disgust "seen one, you've seen them all – lazy, good for nothing, useless wastes of space . . ."

"Severus," Dumbledore warned again "be silent. Harry, as upset as you may be about this situation, you must understand, that you, unfortunately, have no choice in the matter . . ."

"Upset?" Harry frowned "What makes you think I'm upset? Karkaroff is upset," he pointed to the red faced high master "McGonagall is upset" he then pointed behind him to the flustered Deputy headmistress "Crouch . . . well, he just looks bored," the man's lips quirked in amusement at his observation "I'm merely wondering how I can be cajoled – against my will – into a binding magical contract, I thought things like that only happened to boys who lived," he dryly stated, he was, however surprised when nobody looked amused by his claim.

"Wait a minute . . ." he looked between the frowning Neville and the rest of the group "You all think he actually put his name in that Goblet?" he asked in amusement, the frowns on the majority of their faces was enough to say it all "Neville Longbottom," he tried not to laugh "you think Neville Longbottom was able to bypass Dumbledore's – rather brilliant, I must say – age line and then hoodwink the Goblet to allow him entrance?"

"The matter is already . . ." McGonagall tried to interrupt him, but he was on a roll, it seemed.

"Only an extremely powerful Confundus charm could confuse the Goblet sufficiently enough to make it think that there are four schools to select champions for, putting Neville's name in the Goblet was the easy part once that is done – he'd be the only student to choose from, wouldn't he?" he shook his head in amusement "you actually think this," he motioned toward Neville with his waving in his direction "steaming pile of ineptitude is capable of doing such a thing?"

Many of the faces in the room showed doubt, so Harry went in for the kill "Neville," he barked "what's a Confundus charm and what does it do?"

"Er," he stumbled over his own words "trick artefacts . . . into . . . doing what they're not supposed to?"

Harry motioned triumphantly at Longbottom, his point clearly made. Maxime, Karkaroff and Snape looked displeased, but they couldn't refute the logic. Dumbledore was as amused as ever, while Neville looked thankful.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry snapped at Neville, "only an idiot would be thankful at someone for practically calling them a moron . . ."

"Right," Dumbledore coughed into his hand to hide his chuckle "it seems you are up to speed on the current situation, Bartemius, if you would?"

"Right," he sounded slightly less bored than before "The first task is designed to test your resourcefulness and cunning," he began "so we will not be telling you what the first task will be, as one's resourcefulness and cunning cannot be accurately tested if they have ample time to prepare for the test.

The first task will take place on November the Twenty-fourth in front of the other students, and the panel of judges," he said, speaking to Cedric, Fleur, the ever silent Viktor and Neville mainly "Champions will not be allowed to accept, or ask for help of any kind from a professor or teacher other than their advisers, to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed with only their wands. Information about the second task will be given when the first task is over. Owing to the demanding, and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, you will all be exempt from homework and tests . . ."

"Hold on a second," Harry interrupted "as an adviser, do I get this same privilege? I do have to help him with each task he has to prepare for, after all."

Crouch looked to Dumbledore with a stumped expression. For a student to be accepted as an advisor was not something they had predicted.

"That is acceptable," Dumbledore agreed, as Harry smirked triumphantly.

"Looks like you're good for something after all Cedric," he walked over to him and poked him in the forehead, "who knew?"

"Yes, well, that is all I have to say on the matter regarding the first task," Crouch quickly said as he coughed into his palm and proceeded to walk out of the room.

"Is everything okay Bartemius?" Dumbledore asked with concern "Are you sure you do not wish to stay the night? Come up to my office and have a drink and such?"

"I'm too busy for such things," Crouch said dismissively as he finally left the remaining occupants of the room so he could get back to the Ministry.

"Hopefully, High Master, Headmistress, there are no hard feelings regarding tonight's affairs – I think it rather obvious that something is amiss, and I assure you that I intend to conduct a full investigation," he informed them "perhaps we can discuss these matters up in my office?"

They both nodded, begrudgingly, despite not wanting anything to do with the aged Headmaster right now. They could not refute Harry's logic, after all.

"And what are you smirking at?" Harry asked Fleur curiously "You do realize that now that I'm supposed to help Cedric, you stand no chance, right?"

"'Oo are you to think you can speak to Miss Delacour in such a way?" Madame Maxime asked Harry imperiously.

Harry turned his attention on the large woman, resisting the urge to make a comment on her extremely large . . . legs.

"I'm the guy who apparently sodomized your star pupil in the shower over the holidays," he covered his mouth with a hand "oops?"

"Let's go Harry," Cedric dragged the boy out by his elbow "I don't want to get stomped on by Madame Maxime because you say the wrong thing and piss her off," he mumbled to him as an afterthought.

The two teenagers left the, now-gaping occupants of the room for the night; ready to head back to their dorms for a good night's rest.

Harry was rather pleased with the unexpected turn of events – despite how annoyed he was initially. No homework for a whole year would definitely free up a lot of his time, and it would free it up when he was around the Room of Requirement too!

Author's note:

Fucking Liverpool, and all their fans, can suck on my left nut.