A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter.

I have no beta.

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.

-So, many of you might be thinking of different methods that could be used when you read the First Task, and Voldemort is already ahead of you. For some reason, people just don't use their damn brains.

-On another note, I asked for help on AO3 for more star names so I could name Bellatrix's other two children. I chose Serpens and Izar. There are two fics out there where Harry was renamed with those names, and as a nod to those fics, I used those names.

-There are enemies in the tournament, who intend to cause trouble. I'm so excited!


Reginald was a man who believed very deeply in his own strength. He was of the opinion that he was the best bachelor nearing middle age, one could find. And when he learned that the Dark Lord had presented Magical Britain with a tournament for the right to aid him in bringing the Slytherin family back to its former glory, he immediately entered.

Reginald was a man meant for great things and had acquired many accolades in his forty years of life. He was a Runes Master and had grown up in a Dark oriented family.

No one but he could be perfect for the Dark Lord.

But… there were others.

He found himself faced with the spawn of Malfoy, the spawn of Potter, and the last Heiress to the LeFay line. Personally, his family held issue with the families of the other three competitors and Reginald would not lose to such scum!

He intended to win at whatever cost and if it meant getting rid of the competition permanently, he would not shed a tear.


An announcement had gone out. The five hundred participants who remained in the competition after the first task, would be given their privileges. One was a charmed bag that Harry was wary of. Another was a Sneakoscope, to watch for intruders. Finally, those left would be given a Galleon. No one was told what the Galleon would be for, but Harry had a feeling it was important.

Hermione was positively giddy at the prospect of beginning the tournament so soon. She wanted to win badly and in no short words, told Harry that she would take him down with the best of her ability.

Harry was simply in it to keep her safe.

On another note, the horrible news he learned was that Fred and George Weasley had also entered the tournament! So not only did he have to watch out for Hermione's back but he would also have to make sure that they were okay too!

Being a Gryffindor was harrowing at the worst of times.


Harry,

Your father and I cannot fathom this. You didn't want to enter into the tournament but now you're competing against at least a thousand other people. Remus seems to think that someone has it in for you and while it may sound terrible, I hope that is the case. Why else would you allow yourself to remain in the tournament at all?

Your father has sent the Invisibility Cloak for you, in case you have need of it. He was not pleased as I'm sure you've guessed, but enough smacking convinced him to keep quiet. He's such a child sometimes.

I am of a similar opinion as your father, but if you really want to win this - for whatever reason - I have sent my Runes journal along with the cloak. You might make better use of it than I can right now.

We love you very dearly and hope to hear from you soon.

Mum.

He hadn't brought the Cloak to school because he hadn't thought he would need it. Despite not understanding the situation - not that he did either - they were still willing to support him. And they hated Voldemort so this had to be a stretch for them.

The Cloak felt silky between his fingers and he sighed at the strange amount of comfort it gave him. He never understood why, but he always felt safe while wearing it. It was just a cloak though. Even if it was special, there was no reason for it to ease his worries. Right?


Bellatrix Lestrange grinned as she skipped along the corridors of Hogwarts. The competition was going to start soon and she was looking forward to the chaos that would soon unfold. All the danger and screaming would bring music to her ears, she was certain.

She was determined to make the tournament as hard as possible and was looking forward to the second task the most, simply because she was going to be one of the figures that the hidden competitors had to hide from.

What they didn't know, was that she and her fellow Knights were given free reign to cast almost any spells of their choosing, if they wanted to scare the little contestants out into the open!

She had a whole strategy planned to upend the earth! It would be great! Exposing all those unworthy to help her Lord produce an heir!

The reason that Bellatrix was wandering the corridors of Hogwarts was because she was on a mission. There was a particular teen she was looking for and she wanted to get him alone. If only to have a nice, little discussion with him.

Severus was easy enough to bother, and had finally given up his schedule after several minutes of her cackling in his ear. That was how she learned that Harry Potter would be spending his time in the library.

"Itty bitty Potter, come and play with me!" she crooned the moment she stepped into the library. All the children cowered away and disappeared among the bookshelves in order to flee to safety. Potter, who sat in the main part of the library that was open to all students, merely gave her a blank look.

He would be very fun to rile up!

The boy began packing his bag, knowing that there was no way he'd get out of confronting her. He was a smart one. Maybe a sliver of Slytherin was in there somewhere.

"Now, I have learned from my Lord that you are someone to watch for and as he seems to hold you in higher regard among the other competitors, I am here to tell you that I expect you to at least make it to the fifth task!"

She could see the blur of his confused look as she twirled on the spot. "The tasks get harder and harder the further they go and someone of your age actually making it that far would be astonishing."

Bellatrix's wand twisted from side to side like a pendulum. She was relaxed and not worried for her safety, because Potter wouldn't be so foolish as to attack the Dark Lord's most faithful servant. Not with her reputation.

"My dearest Rigel seems to fancy you and when you lose, so long as it is after the fifth task, he would perhaps like to get to know you better."

Potter's jaw dropped and she couldn't help but cackle some more.


Harry wasn't daft. He knew that Bellatrix Lestrange was attempting to establish a connection with him. Either because she was one of the ones who thought he'd be a Knight of Walpurgis, or because she wanted her son to marry the future Black Lord. Either way, she was sucking up a little.

Harry knew Rigel. He was a fourth year Ravenclaw and tended to be on the shy side. Nothing like his parents or his twin siblings who were sixth year Slytherins. Izar and Serpens Lestrange were very quiet and while not shy like their brother, tended to avoid people because they just didn't like them.

Also, she had just told him that he was going to lose! Like, Harry did not want to be in the tournament at all, but to have someone suddenly so certain that he wasn't good enough to make it to the end was insulting. Harry was the best in his year and had tricks up his sleeve that even Hermione didn't have. Things that he had been discreet about.

He could probably win the tournament if he wanted to! He just didn't want to!

And then to tell him that he could pretty much have her youngest son when he lost, so long as he lost at the right moment, was a bigger insult. Harry was tempted. So very tempted but also knew that she had loads of experience on him and he wouldn't stand a chance against her wand.

Basically, he had to shut up and take it.

That did not mean he had to take it well.

"What if I don't lose?"

Bellatrix's snort gave way to mad laughter. She honestly found it amusing that he was so confident. He had a burning itch to prove her wrong. Oh, how he wanted to prove her wrong. But proving her wrong meant being saddled with Voldemort as a husband/lover and he wasn't sure that it was worth it just to see her face.

Sure, the Dark Lord could provide stimulating conversation should he wish to talk. And he definitely held knowledge that many wished they could get their hands on. His magic was breathtaking. His presence one of a kind. Basically, desirable on the most basic of levels. But Harry wanted more from his spouse and he wasn't sure if Voldemort could provide him with it.

Voldemort did not call this the Love Tournament. He was aiming for a consort. Someone to sit at his side and help him create the heirs he needed. There was no mention of love anywhere in there.

Harry wanted something like what his parents had, or what Moony and Padfoot had. He wanted something even better. Something that felt right.

Voldemort was incapable of that.

Wasn't he?


Samhain dawned with all the excitement one would expect when a deadly tournament was going to begin on the same day. Harry had slept in until noon because he wanted to be well rested. There were no specific details about the first task which meant that just because it was expected to only take a few hours, did not mean that it indeed would only be about three hours.

Once he was awake and fully showered, Harry made his way down to the Kitchens for some food. The Elves were accommodating and had even wished him good luck in the tournament. Harry departed with a basket of biscuits and a cup of tea in hand.

He was in search of Hermione, and where else would she be but the library on the day that the tournament was to begin. Where their 'Power' would be tested in the first task.

Madam Prince was not in her usual seat when he entered, allowing him to sneak the food in without trouble. Not that she knew that he often sneaked food into the library when Hermione was on one of her study crazes.

She should have been a Ravenclaw, but she tended to do things without thinking. Yes. The brightest witch in the school tended to act without thinking. Kind of like how she signed the parchment for the tournament without reading it first.

Harry found her perusing a shelf of books dedicated to spells taught in N.E.W.T. classes and up. She was obviously trying to cram as much information as she could, into her brain.

"Mione, you'll at least make it past the first task, you don't need to work yourself up. This is the one that downsizes the competition and only those who are really terrible are going to lose. You aren't terrible so you'll obviously make it."

Though internally he wanted her not to make it so he could quit too. But Harry wasn't the kind of sabotage his friends for his own betterment. Sure, he didn't like the circumstances, but he wasn't going to ruin her dream of equality while at it. If it took another year of work for him to get his Masteries, than he'd have to suck it up.

"Harry, some of us don't have the benefit of Auror family members who can teach us ahead of time. I actually have to study more in certain areas and I don't even know what the first task will encompass!" the bushy haired witch said, tone panicked.

He raised a quelling hand, in which she noticed the muffin he was nibbling on and sent him a disapproving glare. "Not allowed in the library!" she hissed, thankfully keeping her voice low.

"You are completely right," he agreed, taking a deliberate bite of the muffin just to annoy her further. It had blueberries and was sprinkled with sugar. Some of the best kinds of muffins were fruit filled. Now he would have grabbed treacle tart, but even Harry knew his limitations and knew that it was not a good breakfast food.

Hermione held the book in her hands tightly, eyes trying to peel every bit of information they could from the crinkled pages.

Harry's next comment was cut off by Snape's deep drawl as it echoed through the school.

"ALL STUDENTS ARE TO REPORT TO THE QUIDDITCH PITCH IMMEDIATELY. THE FIRST TASK WILL BEGIN IN TWENTY MINUTES! ALL COMPETITORS WILL MEET NEAR THE LEFT HAND SIDE, LOCKER ROOM."

"Oh!" Hermione groaned, slipping the book back. "I almost had it!"

The message repeated for the next several minutes, until Snape probably had enough and decided that if no one listened to his instructions, they deserved to be late.

"Looks like it's time."

Harry left the basket and cup in the library, his pockets laden down with Italian anise biscuits.


Lord Voldemort was sat on his throne that Bellatrix had insisted they bring. The Quidditch Pitch had been completely remodeled for the task and was reminiscent of the Roman Colosseum, with higher stands and more room for more spectators to sit.

He sat in the Slytherin box, with his ten most faithful followers. The rest were stationed all around the stadium in order to get varying viewpoints of the happenings. They were charged with noting any amazing competitors and then their memories would be taken into Voldemort's Pensieve and would be reviewed.

The top twenty would be chosen that way.

The sand of the pitch had been moved to one side, the side the competitors would enter through. It created a large hill that had been packed down with enough water to keep it in place. Beyond that hill however, were more dangers than anyone could expect. The hill cut off the vision of the competitors, leaving them oblivious of the dangers that awaited them.

Only scents and sounds would tell them what to expect. It was devious and Voldemort loved it!

Between the competitor's entrance, and the goal post, there was over five thousand feet of land that they had to get through. Mud pits, deadly plants, creatures that were not expected to be involved, and even some other surprises that no one would ever consider, simply because they were Muggle.

When the bell chimed at exactly two, Voldemort stood, and the talking among the crowds hushed as many waited to hear what he had to say. From his position, he could see all of the participants, noting that there were well over one thousand people who had entered the tournament. There had to be someone worthy among the lot and he had his eyes set on a few already.

Raising his wand to his throat, the Dark Lord cast the Sonorous Charm, allowing his voice to carry throughout the stadium.

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST TASK. I AM VERY PLEASED TO SEE THAT YOU ALL LOOK PREPARED TO FACE THE TRIALS AHEAD OF YOU. NOW WHILE IT IS UNFORTUNATE THAT MORE THAN HALF OF YOU WILL BE DEPARTING THIS EVENING, I STILL WISH YOU ALL THE BEST OF LUCK. YOU SHOULD ALSO KNOW THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU DID NOT MAKE IT, DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU AREN'T SPECIAL IN YOUR OWN WAY."

He very nearly gagged at how sappy the words where, but some took them to heart anyway.

"YOUR DUTY, IS TO MAKE IT TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PITCH. THE FIRST FIVE HUNDRED WILL PASS TO THE NEXT TASK. MY FRIENDS AND I WILL BE MARKING YOUR PROGRESS AND TWENTY OF YOU WHO STAND OUT MORE THAN THE REST, WILL BE AWARDED HANDSOMELY. ANYONE WHO MANAGES TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE WITHOUT ATTAINING AN INJURY, WILL RECEIVE A HINT FOR THE NEXT TASK."

With a smirk, Voldemort held his wand aloft and shot forth a bright yellow spell that exploded like gunfire in the center of the Pitch.

The shouting of the crowd almost drowned out his thoughts, but he was used to paying close attention to detail, so keeping his mind on his goal wasn't difficult. Voldemort's gaze trailed over the variety of fools that had entered his tournament, his eyes finally landing on the one he had wanted the most out of his chosen.

Harry James Potter stood beside his Muggleborn friend. The two had remained absolutely still when Voldemort had begun the task, watching silently as the others charged toward the sandy hill with abandon.

He wondered what was going on in their minds. He also wondered just what Harry was going to bring to the table. Would he even try?


Hermione Granger had entered the tournament without telling her parents. She had done this for a very important reason. She had to at least try. At least to show what Muggleborns were capable of if she didn't manage to win.

As a whole, less than a quarter of the entrants to the tournament were Muggleborns. She wanted to change the mentality that Muggleborns couldn't do much against Purebloods. Besides, the Dark Lord himself was a Halfblood, so it was hypocritical of the Dark sympathizers to side with a man whose blood status wasn't good enough for them.

She didn't know why Harry had entered, especially after he had been so adamant about avoiding it. Something didn't just change overnight and she knew he didn't want to confess just yet. Maybe later, when he wasn't so agitated, she could get the answer out of him somehow.

The point was, they were in this together, with Fred and George as well. The twins had joined them for a few minutes before leaving to do their own thing, parting with only a wink as a farewell.

The moment the task began, Hermione waited to see what she was going to be facing. Harry had taken after her lead, leaving the two of them as the only competitors who hadn't recklessly charged in blind.

She could see the hill of sand crumble under the weight of so many people trying to climb up would have just blasted a hole straight though it. She couldn't understand why they were making it so much harder on themselves.

When the hill had been leveled enough, she and Harry were both treated to the sight of the course.

Devil's Snare trailed all along the ground. Large holes and rocky terrain blocked the path to the other side.

She heard Harry mumble, "I never realised how far away the other side was. Thank Merlin for brooms."

Indeed, the other side was very far away. At least eight furlongs, though she might have been estimating too high. She'd never seen that in Hogwarts: A History. It was time to reread the book again.

As for the task itself, they had to be one of the first five hundred to get to the other side. If they did so in a flashy way, they might get chosen as the top twenty. If they reached the finish line unscathed, they would get a hint to the second task.

Looking around, Hermione spotted the entrance they had just come in through. Raising her wand, she blasted a part of the beam right off and levitated it in front of herself. Once situated, she applied her talents in transfiguration to make the wide beam become a large egg chair she had seen a few months prior. She had wanted one for her own room.

With a pleased nod, she carefully sat, judging just how much it would take to levitate the chair while she was sat upon it.

Determining the method to be good enough, the Gryffindor waved to her gaping friend and levitated herself up, over the Pitch, in order to fly to the other side.

She had a good feeling about the tournament. A really good feeling.


Harry had already had an idea when Voldemort said they had to get to the other side. He'd just been worried for Hermione. But the witch had proven her brilliance by transfiguring a beam into a seat for herself and then proceeded to fly over the competition.

Harry was looking for the quickest way to get from place to place. Nothing flashy. Nothing that would get him much attention. He wasn't going to be battling those Acromantulas that he could see a few hundred meters out. No, Harry was going to fly over the competition as well. That way he wouldn't have to do any extra work.

Maybe if he was so lacklustre, they'd disqualify him!

If only!

Harry focused his magic and centered it. He then let it spread throughout his limbs, filling every crevice.

He'd finally finished this little skill during the summer, since he wasn't allowed to use his wand. His father and Sirius had managed it by their fifth year, but had started before Harry had. It was roughly four years of intense study in order to attain his Animagus form and he was damn proud of it.

And no, he did not care that he had registered himself. It wasn't like people just suddenly decided to go and look at the list in the Ministry Archives because it was fun. Rarely did anyone bother. Besides, most preferred to keep their skills secret.

Harry wasn't secretive, he just didn't brag.

And yes, he was a registered Animagus.

With his magic properly spread throughout his form, Harry could feel his body changing, shrinking into a much smaller size.

Flapping his wings, Harry took to the sky quickly and passed Hermione out within seconds.

From his view, the competition was deadly and dangerous. There were deadly creatures all over and he was terribly frustrated with the Dark Lord in that moment. There was no hint in the explanation, rules, or booklet, that people would be facing such beings. And once they signed their name they were forced to compete until they got disqualified or lost to someone else.

Harry was suddenly very proud of himself. The less amount of work he had to do, the better life would be for him.

Upon landing, Harry transformed back and gave a jaunty wave to Hermione, whose fancy, egg shaped chair, planted her safely on the ground beside him. Her face was a mask of disbelief and awe.

"How did you do that?" she whispered, looking around.

"I've become an Animagus," he said with a shrug.

"IT'S SEEMS THAT TWO PARTICIPANTS HAVE ALREADY CLEARED THE COURSE," Bellatrix's voice rang through the Pitch, sounding gleeful. "ONE HARRY JAMES POTTER AND ONE HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER. BOTH DONE BY FLIGHT, ONE BY TRANSFIGURATION/LEVITATION AND THE OTHER BY HIS ANIMAGUS FORM!"

It was then that Harry's attention was brought back to the stands of people who were cheering. Wide, open faces just gaping at he and Hermione.

And unwillingly, his eyes traveled to the other side of the Pitch, where they were confronted with crimson eyes. Voldemort was staring at him, his amusement as plain as day and if Harry were any more vain, he would think that Voldemort looked proud. But that wasn't possible so he ignored the fluttering in his gut.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, getting his attention once more. "You used one of the hardest methods of Transfiguration to come in first place! It's a very big deal!"

Harry frowned. "Becoming an Animagus isn't hard, Mione. People who aren't Animagi would think that it's hard, but it really isn't. You just need time and energy. Preferably under the scope of someone who knows how to reverse partial transformations as well. When people learn that it takes time, they suddenly don't want to do it, because they assume it'll take forever, and they are too lazy. It took me only four years of summer training, which is the same amount my father and Sirius had when they learned."

"So then, I could have been working on it as well?" she asked, voice sounding strained.

"Probably. You just never expressed an interest before. Not like with the Patronus."

"That one is necessary!" the witch replied. "It is for safety first and foremost, and then that message passing afterward. And the Patronus was hard."

Harry shrugged. "Depends on how good of a life you have. People with generally happy lives have a harder time casting the charm because some of the memories they come up with, aren't powerful enough. I learned that you don't need memories, you just need happiness, which means even thinking of something that would make you happy, is enough to power the Patronus. Less than ten percent of the Auror Corp know the charm because it does take effort and most people are too lazy to work it out on their own. Took me a year under Sirius and Remus' tutelage."

Hermione huffed and turned away from him then. She would probably ignore him for a few hours before coming over and asking him to teach her how to become an Animagus.

He was used to it. Hermione had problems with people knowing more than her. As a Muggleborn, she longed to prove herself and thought that being the best in everything was the way to go about it. She would eventually get over her funk and be back to her normal self in no time.

Harry focused on the rest of the competition, noticing how a large Abraxan was flying right toward them. In fact, it didn't seem to be stopping.

Harry grabbed his friend's arm and yanked her out of the way, in time to avoid the Abraxan. At the same time, he sent a stinging hex to the creature's rear end to punish it for its lack of attention.

When the Abraxan turned into a person, Harry felt even more gleeful at the sight of the man rubbing his sore rump. The arsehole should have had the decency to land elsewhere, where space was readily available.

The man sent a sneer his way, which Harry's gladly returned. He didn't know the man, but he could certainly tell that he was pompous and obviously thought highly of himself. Harry concluded that he was a dick. He suddenly wished that he had gotten more hexes in.


Voldemort's Knights were all gathered in the tent that was separated from the Pitch in order to review the details of what they had seen.

Bellatrix was impressed with Potter most of all, simply because he thought ahead and managed a very difficult bit of transfiguration. It was only after it was mentioned that he had used his Animagus form, that others decided to do the very same.

Overall, fifty-seven competitors that made it to the second task, were Animagi, which were all legally registered and recorded for future reference in the tournament. In case anyone decided to use their forms again.

Several people had shown skill that was impressive, but very few had been shown thinking outside the box. Potter's friend Granger being the very first. She levitated herself in a chair she had transfigured, across at least a mile of land. That took effort and well proportioned magic. Voldemort was impressed.

Astonishingly, no one thought to Apparate to the other side. He knew that Apparating was considered easier than becoming an Animagus, so why wouldn't people think to use that? Quite frankly, he was a little appalled at present and hoped that the tasks that would come in the future, would be more interesting. Perhaps this would get people thinking and actually give more variety.

Ninety-four people had managed the first task without any injuries. A much larger amount that he would have expected. However, it was among the lot of uninjured, that the Knights were choosing the top twenty.

"Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Reginald DuBois are the top three," Voldemort said with finality. "In that order."

"B-but my Lord, Granger isn't an Animagus!" blustered Avery.

He quirked a glamoured brow. "She managed to escape every danger in there, by using a levitation spell for an incredibly extended period of time. While I also admire our resident Animagi, it doesn't take as much effort as many believe it does. Once learned, it is as easy as drinking a goblet of water. I admire Ms. Granger's skill and therefore, she is in first place."

With a gulp of fear, Avery nodded, ducking his head in submission.

Bellatrix grinned. "I'm still impressed that a seventeen year old managed to become an Animagus. It usually takes a few years after graduation before people even think of becoming Animagi."

"I have suspicion," Severus began, "that Potter's father or godfather is an Animagus. Both were talented in Transfiguration back in school, so it would make sense if he managed to do it in such a short time span, without being rushed to St. Mungo's to have whatever mistake he made, reversed."

"Are they registered?" Voldemort asked.

"Not to my knowledge. Then again, not everyone is registered, my Lord."

Voldemort considered that and decided that should he need to hold something over Potter and Black's heads, it would be their Animagus forms. They'd most likely do as he said because Azkaban was not a place any sane wizard wanted to go to.

He always loved blackmail.

"Figure out the remaining seventeen quickly. We have hints to award them after all."

And he looked forward to Potter and Granger's further acts in the tournament.


Harry stared at the piece of parchment he'd been given. As a hint to the next task, which dealt in Cunning, he was given his first riddle ahead of time. The parchment was charmed to show a hint to the location of the next riddle, once he answered his own first.

It was like a sneaking scavenger hunt.

Not only did he have to sneak past several Knights, but he also had to know the area they would be traversing. He hoped it was at Hogwarts. He really hoped it was because not knowing the area would really suck. He hated riddles. This was the task he worried about the most.

There was a reason why he wasn't in Ravenclaw. The last time he tried to break into their Common Room, he found himself standing in front of a knocker for an hour, unable to answer the riddle the bloody thing had posed him.

Riddles always did him in.

And on top of all of this, he had to keep the piece of parchment as well to prove that he had answered the riddles and didn't just happen upon something by chance.

He wasn't going to like this.

Why did the twat waffle lord have to do this to him?


A/N: Another is done!

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.