Greetings, one and all and I bit you welcome to another chapter of the Potter And Kent Chronicles. I hope you enjoy it and now on to some reviews.

Linkonpark100: Did you know? Of course Moody is still a dick.

Savoxgut: Glad you liked it! Indeed, it seems Clark has some unresolved mommy issue's.

Dark Blue Wing: Glad you enjoyed it. Oh, I have something planned between Clark and Fleur.

And now on to the story.

"I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player.", Hermione said. "Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione, he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Clark saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked. "Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me..."

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"Really." Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. "I'm getting his autograph if I can," Ron said. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Neville?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag.", Neville said.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold." Hermione said defensively, "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"The girl who was giving Clark that look did.", Neville pointed out while Ron hissed, "Over here! Come and sit over here! Kara, budge up, make a space... Too late.", Ron said bitterly.

Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Clark could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum. "Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though... bet he gets people fawning over him all the time... Where do you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory... I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could sleep on a camp bed."

Hermione snorted. "They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot.", Neville. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest, a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Clark was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's. "But there are only two extra people," Harry said, "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" Ron said vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum. When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leap to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and most particularly guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.", Dumbledore said, beaming around at the foreign students, "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and Clark saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation. The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops, there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Clark had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" Ron said, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding. "Bouillabaisse.", Kara said after studying the dish. "Bless you." Ron said. "It's French.", Clark said, with his sister adding, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it." Ron said, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there, perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red. During the entire feast, Clark had the feeling as if he was being watched by someone.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville, Hermione and Kara with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called. "Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily. "Yeah, I'll just bet they are," Neville said quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was Fleur, the girl from Beauxbatons who had stared at Clark when she arrived. Ron went purple, he stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. Clark also noticed that Neville just gaped at her, while even Harry's emerald eyes had become a little misted. "Yeah, have it.", Clark said pushing the dish toward the girl, not getting what was wrong with his friends. "You 'ave finished wiz it?", Fleur asked again, her eyes not letting Clark go for a second.

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before, Neville snapped out of it while Kara gave Harry a pock to his side, while Clark started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses. "She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry, Clark and Neville. "Of course she isn't!", Hermione said tartly, "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

"I think you need to borrow Harry's old glasses then, Hermione.", Kara pointed out, as Fleur crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron. "I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" Ron said, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts." Harry said without thinking, his eyes shooting to Kara for a quick second. "Yeah, what Harry said.", Neville added staring at the Ravenclaw table. "When you've boys have put your eyes back in." Hermione said briskly, despide Clark's protest, "You'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime. "What are they doing here?" Neville said in surprise. "They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?", Kara said, "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. But Fleur appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it, instead she had started to look at Clark again from time to time.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration. "The moment has come.", Dumbledore said, 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, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperatio.", there was a smattering of polite applause, "and Mr. 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. Mr. Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. 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, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, 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.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman." Dumbledore said as Filch placed the chests 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. "Before the first task, there will be a small duel tournament, which will be fought with accordance to the official world Tournament rules. As you know, six champions compete in the tournament.", Dumbledore went on calmly, "Two 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 Senior 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, school and age clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet.", Dumbledore said, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the six 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.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, 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 play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Fred's eyes were glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "I don't think anyone under sixteen or seventeen will stand a chance.", Hermione argued with Kara. "We just haven't learned enough..."

"Speak for yourself.", George said shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry? What about you Clark?"

Clark thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence about the danger, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Tournament filled his mind again...

"Where is he?" Ron said, snapping Clark out of his thoughts who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

But this query was answered almost instantly, they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students. "Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Clark saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. "Professor, Ivood like some vine." said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully. "I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy..."

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville, Hermione and Kara. They stopped to let him walk through first. "Thank you." Karkaroff said carelessly, glancing at him and then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Clark watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him. "You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him. "Me." Moody said grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true, half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup. Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner.

Harry, Ron, Neville, Hermione and Kara, joined Clark who had risen earlier than he normally would. Some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. "Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked Clark eagerly. "Everyone in Durmstrang, but I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet." he replied. "Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," Harry said. "I would've if it had been me... wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited. "Done it," Fred said in a triumphant voice, "George, Lee and me have thrown our names into the Goblet. "There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told them, leaning over to them, "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory." Seamus said contemptuously, "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"Listen!" Hermione said suddenly. People were cheering as they all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. She came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" Ron said, looking impressed. "Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering.", Kara said, "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Kara." said Angelina, smiling at her.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory." Neville said, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him. "What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Harry, Clark, Neville, Hermione and Kara when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall. "We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet.", Harry said. "Just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts.", Clark muttered.

"Hey, Clark.", Kara said suddenly, "It's your friend..."

The students from Beauxbatons were coming in the Great Hall through the front doors from the grounds, among them, Fleur. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly. Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped up and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What do you reckon will happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered as Fleur dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"Hang around, I suppose... Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?", Harry said, when all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again. "Where are they sleeping, then?" Neville, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Clark knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly. "'Bout time!" Hagrid said, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

"We've been really busy, Hag..." Hermione started, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words.

Hagrid was wearing his best, and very horrible, hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though, he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease. It was now slicked down into two bunches, perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, "Erm - where are the skrewts."

"Out by the pumpkin patch.", Hagrid said happily, "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Oh no, really?", Kara said getting a Hermione repressive as she stared at Hagrid's odd hairstyle. "Yeah." Hagrid said sadly. "S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky.", Kara said, Hagrid missed the sarcasm. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were. "You wait." he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task... ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning. "I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh." Hagrid said. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much, Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville and Kara rather lost their appetites. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions.

A light rain had started to fall by mid afternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions. "I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" Hagrid said, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that aftershave?" Hermione said in a slightly choked voice. "Er - eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered, he was blushing, "Maybe it's a bit much, I'll go take it off, hang on..."

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window. "Eau de cologne?", Clark said in amazement, "And what's with the hair and the suit?".

"Look!" Ron said suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville, Hermione and Kara peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Clark had only ever seen him wear once before, when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" Hermione said indignantly, "I thought he was waiting for us!" Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" Ron said incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record, bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns. "Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Harry, Clark, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Kara and proceeded through them.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved, it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table.

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Despise it being their second feast in two days, Clark ate as much as he would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

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, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision." Dumbledore said. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. 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 the door behind the staff table "Where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it, at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting... A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second." Lee whispered, two seats away from Harry. The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it, the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The Senior champion for Hogwarts," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" Ron said loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry and Clark, the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

The goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, another tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it, the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The Junior champion for Hogwarts will be," he read, "Clark Kent!"

"Wait what!" Kara said loudly, turning to her brother, who gets up and walking straight to the gathered headmasters under the loud applause of the enthusiastic students. He shacked each of their hands and entered a room to the side.

Clark walked down the stairs that led to a quieter, smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him, warming and lighting the room, Cedric was standing by the fire, only looking up when Clark settled in a red couch in front of the flames. "So... I guess we are team Hogwarts.", the Hufflepuf said, and Clark nodded. It didn't take long before he heard some footsteps descending the stairwell as Krum came into his line of sight, silently nodding in respect to the two before he walked over to the wall and started to stare into the fire.

Soon they were joined a 16 year old female Durmstrang student with dark red hair and green eyes, who said her names was Natasha Romanova, who ignored Clark and Cedric and walked over to stand next to Krum.

"Any idea about who the Beauxbatons champions will be?", Cedric asked, walking over to Clark. "None.", he replied.

The door opened, the first step rang, and then the next until the person's feet became visible. The mystery champion walked down a few step to revealed to be Fleur. She looked around the room, getting a soft smile when her eyes fell on Clark.

It wasn't long before the Junior champion of Beauxbatons. "Jakub LeBlanc.", he introduced himself emotionless and without giving them a look. Fleur seemed to have notice the same thing Clark did, as he snorted in disgust before turning back to looking at he blazing fire.

They were all soon startled to hear another person walking down the stairs, and then Harry came into few, much to Clark's surprise, his grey eyes looking into his piercing green eyes. He rushed to his side, "I didn't put my name in." Harry said blankly. Clark's eyes widened, realizing what Harry was getting at.

The other champions looked strangely at Harry. Fleur was the first to speak up "What is it? Do zey want us back in ze Hall?", she asked in a surprisingly soft voice.

Before Harry could explain there was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm, "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other six. "May I introduce, incredible though it may seem, the seventh Triwizard champion?"

Krum straightened up, Romanova face darkened as she surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. Jakub looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said, before smiling, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Jakub frowned, "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake." he said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. There is already a Junior."

"Well... it is amazing." Bagman said, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he..."

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Clark heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur said at once, striding over to her headmistress. "They are saying that this little boy is to compete also!", she said in French. Despise the worried tone in her voice, Clark couldn't help but feel a ripple of anger at how she called his friend. "This little boy has faced a Dark Lord three times already, princess!", Clark said in French, taking Madame Maxime by surprise, while Fleur looked shocked.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore.", Professor Karkaroff said. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Three Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions or have I not read the rules carefully enough?", he gave a short and nasty laugh. "C'est impossible.", Madame Maxime said, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave three champions. It is most injust."

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

"What is Snivellus doing here? Last time I checked he isn't Harry or mine's Head of House nor our gaurdian.", Clark said, meeting Snape's hate filled gaze with one of his own. "10 points from Gryffindor, .", McGonagoll said sternly.

"Enough. Severus, you can stay but do not speak out of turn.", Dumbledore said firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No." Harry said, he was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows. "Ah, but of course 'e is lying!", Madame Maxime cried. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling. "I don't know, Clark seemed to believe him.", Fleur said, gaining an surprised look from her headmistress.

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

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

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

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

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

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

"Empty threat, Karkaroff.", a voice growled from near the door, "You can't leave your champions now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?" Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk. "Convenient?", Karkaroff said. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Clark could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away, they had balled themselves into fists. "Don't you?", Moody said quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts three bites at ze apple!" Madame Maxime said. "I quite agree, Madame Maxime." Karkaroff said, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards..."

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Harry.", Clark said, standing up for his friend. "Indeed, but funny thing I don't hear him saying a word.", Fleur added, walking from Madame Maxime over to stand at Clark's side, much to his surprise. "Why should 'e complain, Delacour?", Jakub burst out, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money, zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it.", Moddy said, with the merest trace of a growl. An extremely tense silence followed these words. Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man... what a thing to say!"

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

"Imagining things, am I?", Moody growled. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet. They hoodwinked a very powerful magical object. It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament this time... I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."

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

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

"Alastor!" Dumbledore said warningly. Clark wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized 'Mad-Eye' could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction, Karkaroff's face was burning. "How this situation arose, we do not know." Dumbledore said, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric, Clark and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it.", Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious, Karkaroff livid, Bagman, however, looked rather excited. "Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes," he said, "Instructions. Yes... the first task...", he moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Clark thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin. "In two weeks, on the Friday the 11th, the Duel tournament takes place. It is designed to test your magic power."

"The first task is designed to test your daring." he told Harry, Clark, Cedric, Fleur, Jakub, Viktor and Natasha, "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard... very important... The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges."

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests and lessons if they deem it necessary." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

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

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

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?", Dumbledore said. "Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" Bagman said brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

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

"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, a nightcap?" Dumbledore said but Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Jakub's shoulder and was leading him swiftly out of the room, gesturing Fleur to follow them. Clark could hear them talking very fast in French, it sounded like Fleur was defending him and Harry, as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum and Romanova, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Clark, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed." Dumbledore said, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise. I will contact Sirius and Elizabeth personally.", the three nodded, and they left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now, the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality. "So...", Cedric said, with a slight smile, "We're playing against each other again!"

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

"So...tell me..." Cedric said as they reached the entrance hall, "How did you get your name in as third?"

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

"Ah... okay well, see ya." Cedric said. Clark could tell Cedric didn't believe him.

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry and Clark stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it. "Clark, you believe me right?", Harry asked as the two slowly, he started to climb the marble ones. "Of course I believe you. Why did you think I stood up for you?", Clark said, "I don't know how, and I don't know why but I believe you."

Harry let out sigh of relieve, glad that at least his best friend was believing him. The two soon found themselves facing the Fat Lady already. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbor's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before them. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with the keenest interest.

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

"Balderdash." Clark said shortly, not wanting to deal with them right now. "It most certainly isn't!" the pale witch said indignantly. "No, no, Vi, it's the password." the Fat Lady said soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry and Clark into the common room.

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

"You should've told us you'd entered!", Fred bellowed he looked deeply impressed. "Know idea how you tricked that Goblet but brilliant Harry!", George roared. But before either of them could responded, Angelina had now swooped down upon him, "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor..."

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!", Katie shrieked, "We've got food, Harry, come and have some..."

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast...", Harry muttered but nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry, nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet, not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate... Lee had unearthed two Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry and Clark like a cloak.

Harry couldn't get away, whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands... Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked the Goblet Of Fire. "I didn't, I don't know how it happened." he said, over and over again. But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all. It wasn't until Neville and Kara started to make a path for the two of them, to get to the dormitory.

Insisting that they needed to sleep, Kara almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay them at the foot of the stairs. The four of them managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as they could.

They found Ron lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He looked up when Neville slammed the door behind him, Harry, Clark and Kara. "Where have you been?" Kara asked.

"Oh hello." Ron said, he was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. Both Harry and Clark suddenly became aware that they were still wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around them. They hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. Ron lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry and Clark struggle to remove it, while Neville and Kara helped. "So," he said, when they had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" Harry said, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace. "Well... you managed to trick the goblet.", Ron said, "I thought you might have told me because..."

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

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"

"To kill him.", Clark said, Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "It's okay, you know, you can tell us the truth." he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either or attend classes..."

"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" Harry said, starting to feel angry. "Yeah, okay.", Ron said, in exactly the same skeptical tone as Cedric. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you... I'm not stupid, you know."

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

He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry, Clark, Neville and Kara standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.

And I think this is a good place to stop. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I had writing it, many thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorite or follows this story, you beautiful bastards! Now I wish you all a fantastic day, and I will see you all very soon. Mischief managed!