The sign about the Triwizard Tournament was followed by the students talking about the tournament. It seemed the only topic of conversation wherever Harry went. They speculated on who might enter, how, and what the tasks might be. Harry, not a fan of all the hype, stayed out of such conversations. However, it wasn't only the students who spoke about the tournament.
The teachers seemed tense, too. Professor McGonagall barked at Neville for incorrectly performing a switching charm in transfiguration. Professor Lara wanted to ensure they knew precisely what they were doing in potions. Even Professor Flitwick, normally quite cheerful, seemed uncharacteristically serious.
Mr. Filch, the caretaker, was working extra hard to clean the castle, and yelled at anyone who scuffed up places that he'd cleaned. Harry could hear several of the portraits commenting on how they'd been scrubbed far too much, and that they, too, felt pain just like a person. Harry, personally, didn't believe that, as their magic was just that of a construct. In fact, having felt the portraits around the castle, Harry was quite certain he could produce a perfect one of he and Magic that was far more lifelike than any of the ones in the castle. Harry never tried that, though, and when the speculation of the students got to be too much, he simply placed a magical dome around himself that blocked all sound from entering or exiting, and was keyed for only his friends to enter. This, of course, brought several questions from Hermione that Harry couldn't answer, since his way of performing magic was unique to him alone.
Harry let Rose know in advance that he'd be unavailable that day, and knowing about his lack of desire for time travel, accepted his explanation without argument. Up until Friday, they continued to study magic and electricity, and how the two interacted, and had both gotten to the point of understanding how they could construct magical wards or items that didn't interfere with Muggle technology. Harry, for his part, had found a way of safely filling his magical reserves through electricity, and through various experiments with Rose, had played around in the production of different forms of electrical energy, something he imagined could be quite useful.
Finally, Friday arrived. While Harry noticed no particular difference in the school, Daphne told him the Great Hall had been decorated with giant silk banners. Harry guessed this was to show the visiting students from the other schools about Hogwarts. Everything seemed geared toward making a good impression. When Harry thought that, he said idly to Magic, "Make a good impression, Magic. Act more like a human and less like a machine."
"I act how you wish, and you don't wish me to change." Magic stated as Harry grinned.
"That was a joke." Harry said.
"I'm aware what you wished it to be." Magic responded. "You wished to hear my response as I stated it."
"Yes, of course I did. You know me so well." Harry said, chuckling slightly.
Harry ignored the conversation between Hermione, Ron, Daphne and the Weasley twins, especially when it strayed into Hermione's S.P.E.W. badges that she was continuing, rather annoyingly, to rattle around the common room. She'd given up on trying to get Harry and Magic to join, as they weren't going to be dissuaded from their reasoning, but she badgered everyone else, trying to get them to see the immorality of house-elves serving wizards without payment. Rather than talk with Hermione in a futile conversation to try and get her to change her stance, Harry, with Magic coming along, tried to search for where the house-elves might be, so far with little success. He was rather curious to know their position on things, and perhaps if he brought it to Hermione, she'd stop. Harry rather doubted it, though, as she seemed to have a rather strong stance on things with her theoretical person in a box argument.
Throughout the day, everyone seemed less focused on their lessons than usual, except for Harry, who did as he was told with his usual diligent focus. Potions ended a half hour early, and rather than drop off his bag at the dorms, Harry took the easy way out. Hogwarts was a school of magic, after all. He grinned as he transported his school work into his trunk, walking into the entrance hall as he did so.
"This is going to be fun." Harry said, smiling a bit.
"That is sarcasm." Magic stated.
"Your obviousness continues to not astound me at all." Harry said, grinning wider and grasping Magic's hand in his own. "Wonder how long it'll be before the heads of house start showing up."
"Unknown." Magic stated.
As it turned out, it was only a few minutes later that Professor McGonagall entered the entrance hall along with several other students behind her. She ordered everyone into lines. Harry was permitted to remain standing next to Magic, grasping her arm so she could lead him, something he was glad about, as he disliked dealing with lines. Soon after, they exited the castle with the first years in front, and lined up in front of it, waiting in the cold evening.
"Nearly six." Ron said idly. "How d'you think they're coming, the train?"
"I doubt it." Hermione replied.
"I've heard from the people that used to be my family, that each school has its own means of transportation, though what they are, I don't know." Daphne said.
Harry heard the sadness in Daphne's voice as she spoke about the parents that had disowned her, though he didn't blame her for being sad. Harry imagined he would be, too, if Sirius or Sharen decided they didn't want to be his guardians simply due to the friends he had. That, in Harry's opinion, was narrow minded prejudice at its worst.
The evening grew colder as they all waited, the students chatting quietly amongst themselves, speculating on how the students from the schools were going to show up. The colder it grew, the warmer his magic felt within him. While other students shivered around him, Harry had a content smile on his face as he basked in the warmth of his magic. He imagined that there were students glaring at him in jealousy, but didn't really care. As always, he was prepared, even now, to deflect magical and physical attacks.
"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" Professor Dumbledore's voice called out.
"Where?" Several students eagerly asked.
"There!" One responded.
"The sky." Magic placidly stated next to Harry.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
His question was answered by a rather over-emotional first year girl, who shrieked wildly, "It's a Dragon!"
"Don't be stupid, it's a flying house!" Dennis replied.
"It's a flying carriage, pulled by large winged horses." Magic stated quietly so only Harry and a few others could hear.
It wasn't long before Harry began to faintly hear flapping which was coming closer to the students. Not long after that, did he hear the sound of something hitting the ground, and galloping, before something else hit the ground, likely the wheels of the carriage. It came to a stop, and moments later, Harry heard the door open, someone jump on to the ground, then heard the sound of something metal hit the grass.
"Stairs have been unfolded." Magic said quietly to Harry, who despite his desire for things to be over, was still curious about the event.
Harry soon heard the large thud of giant footsteps emerging from the carriage. The only person he knew that had steps even close, was Hagrid. From the sound of the steps, Harry imagined that a very large person was exiting. Professor Dumbledore began to clap, and Harry politely clapped along with everyone else.
"My dear Madame Maxime!" Professor Dumbledore greeted cheerfully. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"
"Dumbly-dorr!" Madame Maxime's voice sounded feminine, but deep, and boomed like Hagrid's did. "I 'ope I find you well?"
"In excellent form, I thank you." Professor Dumbledore responded graciously.
"My pupils." Madame Maxime responded, and Harry heard the footsteps of other students exiting the carriage and coming down the stairs.
With a little more idle chatter, the visiting students entered the school to get out of the cold, and they were left waiting once again for the next school, Durmstrang, to bring their students along. Harry heard the stamping and snorting of Madame Maxime's giant horses that pulled her carriage, Magic quietly telling him the other students were looking up at the sky. Harry didn't have any expectations on how the Durmstrang students were going to arrive, though, which was why, when he heard a strange sound like a giant drain increasing in volume, he wasn't surprised.
Harry could sense, faintly, some type of magic that he didn't recognize, but through his lessons with Rose, was able to pick out several items. One piece of magic seemed to be some type of water proofing, and another repelled or shielded against water. There was strengthening magic, too, as well as some type of magical portal creation that he wasn't entirely familiar with. Only then did he notice the slight difference to the Hogwarts wards that, undoubtedly, Professor Dumbledore had made to allow the visiting delegations through in such outlandish manners.
"Can you hear something?" Ron asked suddenly.
"Yeah, before you did." Harry responded with a grin.
"The lake! Look at the lake!" Lee Jordan called, though Harry had already guessed something was coming that way, due to the feeling of the various pieces of magic.
From the awe of the students, this entry was no less spectacular than the first had been. Harry found it all rather boring despite Magic's placid description of a ship rising from the water. More than anything, he was looking forward to the feast, as he was getting rather hungry.
Once the ship had dropped its anchor and extended a plank on to the bank to allow students to exit, Harry felt a sense of anticipation for the feast that was likely to be waiting for them in the Great Hall. He heard the footsteps of the students exiting their ship and the idle whispers and chatting of the students. Not long after did he hear a man call, "Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Professor Dumbledore replied.
"Dear old Hogwarts." Professor Karkaroff said in what seemed to be a voice of reminiscing, but Harry could hear something calculating in his voice. "How good it is to be here, how good. Come along, Viktor, into the warmth. You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold."
"Oh my..." Ron said in an awed voice. "It's Krum!"
Harry simply sighed. He ignored Ron prattling on about Krum, one of the seekers that he remembered being at the Quidditch World Cup. He talked about him like he was the best Seeker in the world, and someone to be idolized. Harry, himself, didn't like people idolizing him, so said nothing at all about Krum arriving. Hermione, too, thought that Ron talking about Krum as he was, was rather silly, though she was more vocal than Harry quietly saying nothing. Daphne had nothing to say until Ron asked, "Daphne! You know about Krum, don't you?"
"Yes, Ron, I know about Krum." Daphne replied sedately. "And, you're acting like you're in love."
As Ron stammered something, Harry heard something quite rare from Daphne that he'd never heard before. She was giggling, obviously having said such a thing to Ron to get such a reaction. Harry grinned a bit as he walked through the entrance hall, Magic still leading him, then entered the Great Hall with the rest of the students, listening to several girls trying to look for something that Krum could sign.
"Really." Hermione commented. "How silly of them."
"I agree with you." Harry said. "It's quite ridiculous."
Ron attempted, unsuccessfully, to make space at the Gryffindor table for the Durmstrang students, but they ended up sitting at the Slytherin table, something that Ron was a little glum about. Harry let the chattering and speculation of the students wash over him, simply waiting for Professor Dumbledore to start the feast. Since there were guests at the school, however, Harry imagined that Professor Dumbledore would probably have some type of speech first. It was a few minutes later that silence fell over the hall, and as Harry had expected, Professor Dumbledore began to speak.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts, and most particularly, guests!" Professor Dumbledore said in a welcoming voice. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."
Harry heard a girl laugh, it sounding a bit muffled. Hermione then said indignantly, "No one's making you stay!"
"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast." Professor Dumbledore said, and Harry smiled, glad to eat before a long speech. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"
Just like that, Harry felt the magic that transported food on to the dishes in front of them, and smelled the aroma. Since there were many more students than usual, and it being a rather large event, Magic simply transported food from the various dishes on to both of their plates.
"Show off." Hermione grumbled with irritation.
"Know it all." Harry shot back with a grin. Hermione playfully slapped his shoulder.
"What's that?" Ron asked, beginning to eat his meal, silently thanking Magic and feeling the familiar loving caress of his magic moving throughout him.
"Bouillabaisse." Hermione replied promptly to Ron's question.
"What?" Ron asked in confusion.
"It's French." Hermione replied. "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."
"Sounds unique." Daphne said. "Come on, Ron, give it a try."
"Na, I'm good. Thanks." Ron said.
"What a cowardly Slytherin you are." Daphne responded playfully.
"Oh, please." Ron said, sounding determined. "I'll show you that's wrong."
Harry guessed that Daphne had successfully goaded Ron into trying out the foreign dish, though didn't know for sure. He simply enjoyed his meal, but about twenty minutes later, felt a faintly familiar magic, that of the veela. He easily dispelled it from himself as he heard a rather beautiful voice say, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"
Harry heard an odd sound from Ron that certainly wasn't words. He let out a sigh, then chuckled a bit as he turned toward the girl.
"You're charming him, perhaps unintentionally." Harry said. "I do apologize for his ineloquent behavior. Anyone else need that French dish?"
"No, we're all done." Daphne said casually.
"Then, I suppose you can have it." Harry said. "Enjoy!"
"Thank you." The girl replied.
As Harry heard the girl walk off, Ron said in a croaking voice, "She's a veela!"
"Not fully." Harry replied. "But, yes, I suppose she does have that certain charm about her, doesn't she?"
"And did you like her?" Daphne asked.
"Of course he doesn't." Hermione replied. "You don't see Harry gaping like an idiot, do you?"
"Magic's better than a veela, who could never know what I want from them without asking." Harry said.
Harry thoroughly enjoyed the first course of the meal, and the second, also, trying out some of the foreign dishes, though found he wasn't quite as fond of them as he was of the dishes he already knew. Harry felt a sense of anticipation when he felt the magic that vanished the rest of the food and cleaned the plates some minutes later, and heard silence fall on the Great Hall.
"The moment has come. The Triwizard Tournament is about to start." Professor Dumbledore said in what almost sounded like a grand voice. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket."
"Casket?" Harry asked curiously and quietly, almost talking to himself.
"But, first, let me first introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation." Professor Dumbledore said.
There was a round of applause for the man, though it seemed polite and somewhat subdued.
"And, also, Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."
The applause for Mr. Bagman was louder and more enthusiastic, though Harry didn't know why that was. When it died down, Professor Dumbledore began to speak again.
"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament, and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."
The students now seemed more attentive. Professor Dumbledore seemed to have noticed, as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."
Harry felt a very strange type of magic that was beginning to move, one he hadn't quite noticed before. It was somewhat faint, but also very powerful. He could feel the very familiar feeling of binding magic, but somehow altered and conditional. In response, he felt a bit of fear, but as was the norm these days, continued to think clearly despite his immediate reaction. Obviously, the thing being moved wasn't binding his magic, so he didn't have anything to be concerned about. Not yet, at any rate.
None of the other students seemed concerned. In fact, they seemed rather excited. Harry wasn't surprised about this, as they likely couldn't feel what he could. Harry heard the sound of something large being placed carefully on the teachers table, and Professor Dumbledore continued.
"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman, 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."
No one seemed to be breathing at the mention of danger, and Harry felt a bit worried. If someone really was going to put his name in this casket, or whatever was used to enter someone into the tournament, Harry wasn't sure how he was going to get out of it. He carefully and deeply examined the magic he could feel, trying to figure out exactly how it bound magic and what its conditions were. Wanting to practice his own skills, he didn't ask Magic, who likely knew the answer already. Instead, he delved into the incredibly complicated magic himself while continuing to listen to Professor Dumbledore speaking.
"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, 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."
Harry heard three taps on the casket. Magic quietly stated, "A wooden cup is being removed, dancing with blue-white flames. That is the source of the magic."
Harry reasoned that this was the Goblet of Fire that Professor Dumbledore had referred to, and carefully continued to feel the magic within.
"Professor Dumbledore has glanced at you. I believe he knows..." Magic began, but stopped talking as Professor Dumbledore continued once again.
"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." Professor Dumbledore's voice had unknowingly interrupted what Magic was saying. "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, 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.
"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 compete before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."
That was it, Harry thought triumphantly. That was the conditional binding on the magic that he could sense. And, delving deeper, he knew that the binding magic didn't stop someone from using their magic. In fact, from what he could tell, they were quite free to continue using their magic as long as they competed in the tournament should they be chosen. Harry felt a bit more relieved at that, and along with the rest of the students, rose to go to bed. Harry found himself curious to know how the age line would feel the next morning, and decided to examine it before everyone else had awakened. Since he woke long before most, Harry imagined that this would be a trivial thing to accomplish.
The next morning, at around five o'clock, Harry and Magic entered the entrance hall. Harry was somewhat surprised to hear the sound of a couple other people moving about. In what felt like approximately the center of the large room, the Goblet of Fire stood, surrounded by the age line, which felt circular. Harry felt its magic and discovered how it measured age. Quite clever, he thought, and more complex than it seemed to be at first glance by anyone who could see. Through his sensing of Magic's thoughts, Harry knew the line looked like nothing more than a gold circle. Strangely enough, feeling the age line gave Harry a more in depth look at how he himself could measure age through magic, and he silently thanked Professor Dumbledore for his unknowingly expanding upon his abilities.
After sitting down with Magic at the side of the room, Harry curiously waited to see how the Goblet worked, hoping to feel what happened when people began putting their names in. He heard several people do so, and the sound of the slightly crackling flames changed slightly whenever someone did, along with the feeling of its magic. Harry had even felt its magic wash over him when he'd entered the entrance hall, though why that was, he didn't quite know. He came to realize what it was, however, as he felt a pattern of magic. As soon as someone would enter their name, the Goblet of Fire's magic would scan the person and seem to judge them, just as it had when Harry had entered the entrance hall and passed it. Harry felt a bit of frustration, realizing that his scanning by the Goblet had been far more selective, as if he'd been the only person entered into the Tournament under some type of specific criteria, though what that could be, he didn't know. Able to feel the Goblet a bit more deeply now that he had time to examine it, Harry also felt a sense of some type of misdirecting magic. He sighed to himself, walked into the Great Hall, sat down, then stated, "Great. Just great."
"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked. Harry heard him slide into the free place on the bench next to him.
"Oh, someone's put my name in the Goblet, is all." Harry stated with a calm resignation. "And, I have no doubt that my name's going to be picked."
"How do you know?" Ron asked. "You couldn't have seen someone do that."
"No, I didn't." Harry said. "Nor did Magic. But, the Goblet of Fire scans those who put their name in. It scanned me selectively, like I would be entered. So, after breakfast, I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore and let him know. I don't want to attend the tournament, and if I have anything to say about it, I won't."
"You'd let all that money pass you bye?" Ron asked, uncomprehendingly.
"You should know by now, Ron, that there's much better things than money." Harry responded calmly. "Kind, loving, and alive parents, for instance." Ron said nothing more on the topic, and after a moment, Harry said, "Don't tell anyone about the Goblet of Fire, okay?"
"You sure?" Ron asked.
"Yes, I'm sure." Harry responded.
Once he and Magic finished eating about a half hour later, Harry stood, took Magic's hand, then walked up to the staff table, hearing the Professors talking as they ate. He politely cleared his throat, having heard Professor Dumbledore saying something.
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, stepping in front of where he sat, across the table from him.
"Ah, good morning, Harry." Professor Dumbledore replied politely. "How can I help you this fine morning?"
"I'd like to talk to you privately as soon as I can, sir." Harry said.
"Very well, Harry." Professor Dumbledore responded. "If you will wait for me outside in the entrance hall, I shall be with you promptly."
"Thanks." Harry said.
A few minutes after he exited the Great Hall, Professor Dumbledore exited as well, and said, "Follow me, please, Harry."
He did so, being led to an unused classroom on the first floor. Those turned out to be quite handy for quick discussions, Harry thought. As soon as the door was closed, Harry used his magic to make the room completely private and stop sound from exiting, wanting no one else to overhear them. Magic, as always, was with him.
"I've silenced the room so only we can hear what's going on." Harry said.
"Then, I take it that whatever you have to tell me, is likely to be a rather sensitive topic unique to your abilities alone." Professor Dumbledore said.
"Yes." Harry responded. "You know that the Goblet of Fire magically scans everyone who's name is entered, once they're within an appropriate distance of it, right?"
"I'm aware of that fact, yes." Professor Dumbledore responded. "Quite ingenious, if I must say so myself."
"Usually, that happens after they put their name in, since they're right there." Harry said. "But, what do you suppose would happen if someone else put another person's name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"I presume the Goblet would scan anyone within an appropriate distance, the size of the great hall, perhaps, and determine their identities." Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "After which, should the identity of the individual match the name entered, the Goblet of Fire would then judge them as it has everyone, and make its final selection exactly twenty-four hours after being activated, which will be tonight."
"That's what happened to me." Harry said. "But I'm certain that, due to the focus of the scan, my name's going to be selected. I just wish I could figure out exactly how the Goblet of Fire's going to bind my magic so I could prevent it."
"Are you absolutely certain of this, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked. "You are certain of your facts, and you, yourself, did not get past my age line and enter your name into the Goblet?"
"No, I didn't." Harry responded. "I wouldn't enter my name."
"This is most troubling indeed." Professor Dumbledore said gravely. "There are but two possibilities I can see for your name being placed into the Goblet of Fire. First, that someone is attempting to have you killed in the Tournament, though should you be forced to attend, I believe that possibility is rather unlikely given your magical skill."
"And the second?" Harry asked.
"That Voldemort will somehow use you in his rebirth." Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry felt a flash of triumph and a brief expression flashed over his face. Professor Dumbledore didn't miss it.
"Do you, perhaps, wish to share something with me, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked curiously, though his voice had a touch of coldness to it.
"If Voldemort's reborn in a body, he'll be far more vulnerable to defeat with my brand of magic." Harry said. "Magic and I determined that, in order to defeat him, we'll wait for him to put himself in a body of some kind. Once that's done, we can cut the binds to his Horcruxes and bind his magic, rendering him powerless without killing him."
"Quite clever." Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "However, given that Voldemort is aware of your abilities, and likely knows more than you may expect, I suggest you prepare yourself for encountering a situation that you cannot defeat using magic."
"I'm as ready as I can be, I suppose." Harry said after a moment. "So, what do we do about my name in the Goblet of Fire?"
"If you can prevent the Goblet of Fire from choosing you, you may do so." Professor Dumbledore said. "However, aside from that, there is nothing we can do, except wait and hope you are able to defeat the binding it will attempt to place on you."
"I don't know if I can." Harry responded. "It hasn't bound me yet, but it's powerful enough to do so before I know what's happening, unless I modify it now, and I'd rather not do that."
"A wise choice." Professor Dumbledore said. "Should you tamper with the Goblet, you would, undoubtedly, suffer the wrath of the Ministry of Magic once again. And I assure you that, this time, they wouldn't be quite so lenient with you."
"If you call what happened last time lenient, I'd hate to see what isn't." Harry responded.
"You may have surmised this already, Harry, but there are those at the Ministry who fear you, those who are curious about you, and those who wish to study you." Professor Dumbledore said.
"I'm not surprised." Harry responded. "I'm one of a kind, an unknown quantity. Frankly, I'm surprised that there haven't been attempts to take me from Hogwarts, rationalized under some ridiculous need to keep everyone else safe from the danger I represent."
"There were such attempts made at the end of your first year, and at certain times throughout your second. When you lost your magic, you were deemed neutralized for the time being, by those who considered you a threat. Therefore, such attempts failed until your third year. Once Minister Bones was in office, the attempts were stopped rather quickly. At least, the attempts that I'm aware of." Professor Dumbledore said.
"I didn't know all that was happening." Harry stated, though wasn't surprised.
"I didn't see any need to inform you, Harry, as I was able to use my power as Headmaster to stop the attempts." Professor Dumbledore responded. "However, when you are no longer attending Hogwarts, I recommend caution and vigilance."
"Guess Professor Moody's adage is applicable to me after all." Harry said. "A bit more than I expected, but not difficult to deal with."
"Very good." Professor Dumbledore responded with satisfaction. "Until tonight, then, Harry."
"Until tonight." Harry said with resignation.
As he walked from the room with Magic at his side, Harry let out a bit of a sigh. He didn't know who had placed his name in the Goblet, or even why they'd done so, but he knew one thing. Regardless of the outcome, he wouldn't let himself be captured by Voldemort without a plan on how to proceed. As he walked through the corridors, he began to think of possibilities, letting himself be open to Magic's thoughts. She, too, was thinking as well, calculating odds and formulating her own logical conclusions. One by one, from being captured by a magic Harry couldn't defeat, to a hostage situation of some kind, to some type of Muggle method for taking him, Harry thought of what he might do in the event of his capture and how he might escape. He mostly stayed to himself during his time of deep reflection, eating quietly at lunch and not answering many of his friends questions. Despite his thoughts, Harry didn't feel worried, only felt a certainty of what he must do, and a determination to succeed in removing Voldemort as a threat, should that be the reason behind his current circumstances.
*** Barty POV ***
Barty Crouch, having successfully taken the place of his pathetic father for quite some time now, stepped into a classroom at Hogwarts before appropriately warding it and ensuring he wouldn't be heard and seen. He then pulled a mirror from his pocket and looked into it at his reflection, which perfectly captured his father's face in every way. He then said, "Lord Voldemort."
The image in the mirror rippled and grew dark for a moment before reflecting the familiar face of Stacey, who's eyes coldly examined him. The mirror then turned, presenting him with the profile of Voldemort.
"What is it?" The high, cold voice asked.
"I saw Potter at lunch, my Lord." Barty replied. "He may know of what we've done. He was pondering something with great deliberation."
"Should we capture Potter's guardians, then?" Voldemort asked.
"That would be best, my Lord." Barty replied. "I think it's very likely that Potter's determined some way of defeating our plans, but with his guardians in an unknown location, I doubt he'll try anything."
"Very well, then." Voldemort responded. "I'll see to it immediately."
"Understood, my Lord." Barty said. "Deactivate." The mirror image of Voldemort disappeared, and his own reflection was seen once again. Barty smirked to himself, then said gleefully, "You won't get out of it this time, Potter! We've planned very well indeed!" After cackling, Barty resumed his look of seriousness, put the mirror back in his pocket, removed the wards from the room, and was once again on his way.
