Many thanks to lubabpaul for the beta-ing!

TRIWIZARD I

1993-01 September. Welcoming Feast

At this point in time, I was probably physically closer to being twenty than 18, however, I felt ancient. A part of me recognized that I was very much a kick-ass wizard, another repeatedly stated that I should cut down on the experiments. And since I had no idea what the fuck happened to the raven's brain, which was clearly was ill-suited to hold a random jumble of my memories and several languages, I would likely dedicate the time otherwise allocated to random discovery to the monitoring of the white raven.

Ever since Luna entered my compartment and complimented me because I was more interesting with only one eye, Raven – who I guess at this point is now my familiar - had gained a new favourite human. Raven seemingly liked Luna's blonde hair and enjoyed the flattery from the girl regarding her sleek plumage and mismatched eyes. Raven probably appreciated it more because she thought they were alike.

Calling her a bit batty was a little insufficient. She never stayed quiet, well.. aside from the times she would have to think about a puzzle, riddle, or insult.

Raven and Luna immediately hit it off, because I didn't really have the patience or the inclination to craft puzzles a raven could solve, as riddles truly annoyed me. It only got worse since the other Ravenclaws found out, and my dinner (that I had to defend from her thieving beak) had been interrupted several times with questions about me, my missing eye (admittedly, instead of an eye I had a splatter of scar tissue, and it could be distracting I guess), and the continuous flow of riddles between Raven and Luna.

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. Who am I?" croaked my familiar.

After a while, that the white bird spent trying to steel my food, Luna answered: "An echo".

Raven croaked her version of a laugh, flapping her wings and uncaringly hitting my left ear several times. She felt at ease like the first time we run together with me as a fox.

"The wind is an enemy, I'm the dark's remedy.

I am born tall and won't live long at all.

Who am I?" I butted in, trying to throw off the raven's game.

A single heartbeat later, Luna answered: "Candle!" beating Raven to the punch.

While my familiar squeaked outraged, Luna smiled, her magic felt... happy.

That evening I declined to take the time turner from Flitwick, explaining that I didn't really need to attend the lessons for several of my NEWTs.

And with my Time Room, I can keep living my 30 hours long day.

During a charms lesson, later in the week, Flitwick asked me to keep my familiar quiet.

"She found a way to break my Silencio, professor, and today she wanted to stay with me. I'm only grateful she refuses to stay in the dungeons."

When she broke even the charms master silencing charm, the diminutive professor tried to turn the lesson into a challenge to see if anyone found a way to keep her silent, but neither of us did appreciate being held at wand point, and I calmly advised to use riddles.

Pointing a wand at either of us was, after all, an extremely stupid way to lose their casting arm.

The last day before the calling of the Champions Raven kicked up a fuss.

"I am always there; I flow with time.

I break all bonds, and forge those anew.

I'm the rising tide, and the crumbling cliffs.

I let you learn, and rule all in the end.

Who am I?"

She kept going with the same riddle over and over again.

Until finally Luna popped up from nowhere during dinner: "It's Change."

I froze. She couldn't mean..."Read it." my familiar ordered.

"Read what?"

"Change." quoth the raven.

Read the change? I thought.

Then it clicked. What my unsufferable familiar was asking me to throw the Potterverse plot out of the window without any hope of bringing it back on track.

I cleared some space in front of me, the clattering, and the crowdedness of the Great Hall during dinner covering my actions.

I brought out the heavily modified old tarots deck I seriously used only during my OWLs.

I shuffled the heavily modified deck.

Raven hopped on the table in front of me, silently watching me with her eye that looked like molten silver, but that I knew was caused by the unicorn blood.

I distractedly took note of the fact that she was being for the first time since forever actually quiet.

I put on the table seven cards, not bothering with checking the first two, they were about the past, and while an interesting tool for introspection, at that moment they really were not needed.

I turned the middle one face up: the forking road, a choice.

Well that's useful.

I turned the last two cards.

The lady luck, with her blindfold on.

And the broken bridge.

I shot an angry look at my feathered companion. "I could have told you that without all this fuss! But it doesn't mean I should do something about it!" I hissed.

Raven flapped her wings mocking my outraged expression. "On the fly!" she croaked.

I spluttered. "On the fly? We would be flying blind and hit a bloody wall!" I protested.

"On the fly!" quoth the raven.

I still have to understand why she can ask riddles like a human but has to communicate like a drunk oracle on steroids. "Bullshit!"

"On the fly!" quoth the raven.

"Fine! Have it your way! I still say it's stupid as fuck!" I distractedly noticed that our little show made several people laugh out loud, all the ones that knew about my usual absent mindedness thought I finally cracked and gone crazy like my only friend Looney Lovegood.

They only thought about it, they learned their lesson years ago.

The Beauxbatons delegation was baffled at the display.

I pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled my name on it. I rose, Raven proudly perched on my left shoulder, covering my blind side. The Hall went silent, it was probably bad form waiting until the last moment but see if I care. I strolled to the Goblet of Fire and dropped my name in it.

I waited a second.

"Well that was underwhelming." I briefly considered if putting my hand into the blue flames to try and feel those, but I desisted because I didn't know what would happen to me if the goblet-soul recognized me as a threat.

"Want to play riddles with Luna?"

When Harry Potter entered the room, I was once again reminded that he was bloody fourteen. And in the previous year's I had let him fend for himself. I honestly almost felt guilty, but I was in no position to interfere, it was not actually my responsibility, but Dumbledore's. I snorted when Delacour said he was a leetle boy, earning myself a glare.

She was stunning, not the washed down version of the movies, lips fuller, cheekbones higher. Getting laid only during summer is really not enough. A sharp poke on my left temple awoke me from my reverie. That beak was annoyingly pointy.

Oh, that was the allure then! it was an interesting piece of magic, almost an illusion, but not quite. The annoying part was that it caught me with my guard down. While I was thinking about the possible applications of what was at its base a targeted compulsion charm, I remembered that the girl was 17 and that I was 22 when I ended up in the Potterverse.

While the mental age someone has is based on their experience and not the number of birthdays he had had, and arguably in this world I stayed still only learning about magic, I still didn't feel exactly comfortable in thinking about her in that way.

The outrage at having two Hogwarts champions brought out a snide comment about the half-blind and a scarred wizard as Britain's best. That stuff acutely reminded me that this whole Triwizard bullshit was the old Panem et circenses trick to distract people from the stagnation of the economy and the corruption of those in power.

"Who will be the commentator for the tasks?" I asked, cutting down the squabbling.

"Well Mr. Taylor, that person would be me! See..."

"I thought the whole point of the tournament, besides the 'international cooperation' was showing off our respective countries' brightest students." I swiftly interrupted.

"Mr. Bagman, while surely enthusiastic, is ill-suited for the commentator role. If I remember it correctly, he left Hogwarts after his OWLs to his brilliant quidditch career. What will he comment upon when he is not qualified to distinguish between transfiguration and transmutation? Describing what everyone can see is hardly suitable. Perhaps someone from the education department from each of our ministries can assume that role? One for each task?" noticing the approving look on the Beauxbatons headmistress and the almost enraged Bagman I went on: "You brought the best from both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, perhaps an inter-school quidditch tournament could make use of Mr. Bagman expertise, his role would also be a part of the show for itself. And maybe we could add an over 17 dueling tournaments? Every event would be an opportunity for scouting young talent. And would not leave the students from the other schools with nothing to do. Maybe..."

"Mr. Taylor, do you remember one of our first conversations about overthinking things?" my Head of House interrupted me.

"On the fly!" quoth the raven.

"Shut up!" I told the bird.

She flapped her wing hitting my ear, squawking. I could tell she was about to go on a tirade with a lot of cursing, so I beat her to the punch.

"It can't be seen, nor it can be felt.

It can't be heard, nor it can be smelt.

It lies beneath stars, and under hills,

and everything empty it fills.

It came first, and will follow,

Ends life, kills laughter.

What is it?".

"Unfair!" whined the raven.

"You still can't solve it." I answered happily.

While everyone not from Hogwarts was looking at me like I was a whole new level of crazy, Flitwick had a face full of pride and mirth, McGonagall was itching to facepalm, Dumbledore did his twinkling eyes thing, and Harry seemed more at ease. Crouch seemed annoyed by my intervention, but the competition among schools would swallow his weak protests whole. Besides, once I told my fellow of age wizards and witches that they could show off in either a duelling or a quidditch tournament, a lot of pureblood families would put pressure on the minister, but Fudge was a bumbling fool so I didn't foresee any problems on that route.

Crouch explained succinctly the rules and gave us the date of the first task. I asked to be given a copy of the rulebook: if I could for some reason not attend lessons I didn't actually need, I could focus my time and efforts in emptying the Room of Lost Things and copying books from Hogwarts library.

When we retired for the night, the last two to leave the room were me and Potter. He was fidgeting a bit, then I remembered all the bullshit that Weasley would give him.

I tapped him on the shoulder: "You helped me save that unicorn." I reminded him "If you want a hand with the preparation, I'm available. I'll try what I can to keep you alive during the Tasks, but open cooperation is against the rules: the paranoid bastards didn't like the possibility that two champions would work together against the third.".

"Dark!" exclaimed Raven.

And now I need to steal another difficult riddle from somewhere.

The Weighting of the Wands had been hilarious.

I cockblocked Rita Skeeter from dragging Harry Potter away for a private interview, refused to answer with anything different from a "No comment." and asked the Beauxbatons Headmistress why there weren't reporters for their national papers.

Basically, an out-loud fuck you to the Daily Prophet.

Before beginning, Ollivander gave back to me the wand I crafted, smiling widely.

"Come to my shop this summer, Mr. Taylor, this is a very valid first attempt. A bit rough on the edges I would say, and with not enough guts, but really valid nonetheless." he told me.

I pocketed the wand with a huge smile. Wandcrafting here I come!

"Perhaps you would like to try and identify the Champions' wands? With their permission and under my supervision of course." he then asked. I was floored. There had been more than a few arched eyebrows at the outlandish request.

"Please!" my familiar croaked.

They accepted, wary, and kept a nervous look on their faces until Ollivander gave back their wands after completing the Weighting. I already knew the wands, and as such I could associate the feel of the core to the correct magical creature.

We started with Delacour's.

I slowly let my lone eye travel on the length of wood. "Rosewood" I started " 9 and half inches. And the core feels like... a hummed song." I looked at the veela, trying to feel her magic in the same way I once felt Flitwick's. They were similar, in a way, even if the wand soul-voice was naturally more subdued.

"Something from a veela? Beautiful in and out." I concluded, watching Ollivander for confirmation. He took the wand and repeated the goblet of fire book's routine.

I had to act a lot less for Krum's wand. Have I mentioned how much fun it is to mind blow people knowing stuff you shouldn't now? "Hornbeam, ten inches and one fourth. Dragon heartstring... brisk?". I ended with a question, since I suspected the last word was supposed to be the embodiment of the wand's soul-voice. But it was difficult listening for the core and then focusing on the whole. Ollivander corrected me and summoned birds with the stiff wand.

Since I was 'reading' the wands, I would be last, and I choose to fuck around with Dumbledore's brain.

"Eleven inches of holly, nice and supple." I started. I let my lone eye travel from the wand to Potter, and once again from the wand to Dumbledore.

Raven choose to join my fun.

"Through beak and bone,

I can more than see

The elder alone,

who wishes to flee,

the brother who follows,

Sōwilō arisen, from Godric's Hollow.".

Croaked my familiar.

I really should not have told her about Blagden, from the novel 'Eldest' by Paolini. I widened my lone eye, like I was reading some obscure meaning in the white bird words. I turned the wand around with my fingers.

"A brother you say?" I hummed. Honestly, the magic of the phoenix felt both thrilling and playful. And was 'louder' than the other wands. Probably because the bird is immortal and has been a part of the world-soul for a long time. I mentally added 'birth of phoenix' to my research list.

"Phoenix tail feather. Protection through sacrifice. And... you can cast a Patronus?" I feigned surprise. I tried to simply let my magic (or soul-voice) 'resonate' with the core inside, and phoenix song filled the air. In a flash of fire, Fawkes appeared in the air, adding her voice to the song, and the music became more. The immortal bird landed on Potter's shoulder, nuzzling him while tweaking the song into a warm-safe-courage-strength-happiness feeling.

Rita Skeeter was having the best day of her life, discovering a 17 years old wand crafter, and assisting to a phoenix playing favourites? It was gold. I let Ollivander take the wand, he looked a bit bewildered, a bit amused, and very interested in both my display and Raven's words. My familiar was a bit jealous and was trying to give me a feather from her wing that I could use for a wand. I never considered it.

"I like you way more than that firebird, Raven, stop making a fuss." I tried to calm her.

She flapped her wings and flew out of a window that was closed until a moment before. I laughed and gave my wand to Ollivander.

"Oh yes... one of my uncle' ones." he sighed.

"Spruce, exactly thirteen inches. Demiguise eyestring wrapped around a thunderbird feather. A very complex wand indeed." After a second, a blinding flash followed by a thunderclap that cracked all the glass in the room, and the smell of ozone filled the air.

When everyone regained their hearing, Ollivander commented: "Eager, are we?" chuckling, he gave me back my wand while Dumbledore waved the Death Stick and repaired all the glass of the room (his half-moon glasses too).

All the wands were in working order, and the first task was getting close. Harry Potter stopped me after we left the room to ask after the bullshit Raven sprouted before. It was then that I realized: I did not put the memories of my first life into the Pensieve in which she hatched.

She blabbed about brother wands and Godric's Hollow.

Meaning she was affectively throwing around riddles about a future she couldn't possibly know.

I created a Blagden into the Potterverse. I thought, dumbstruck. "I know as much as you, Raven never explains her riddles." I honestly answered. He was probably thinking around the lines or 'why always me' or some other teen angst's bullshit.

"Let prophecies alone, they don't make sense until a long time after the events they predict actually happen, and often not even then." I tried to dismiss his worries.

"That was a prophecy? But what does Sōwilō mean?" he went on.

"Leave prophecies to the prophet that utters them. They're riddles, nothing more." I tried to nip in the bud the foolish trust in the babblings about the future.

"Elder Futhark is third-year material, you hardly need me to look at your Ancient Runes' notes." He mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, I missed that. What did you say?" I replied.

"I said I didn't take runes." he stated, he was a bit... ashamed?

Good. Maybe he will put his back into magic now and Britain won't end up a mess. "You have a rune etched on your forehead and didn't research it?" I asked, letting my baffled expression convey my opinion about his stupidity.

He mumbled something around the lines of 'asking Hermione'. I didn't point out that doing your own research teaches you far more that being spoon-fed information. To steal words from Matrix: I showed him the threshold, crossing it was up to him. The following week I researched house elves, and bound Winky to me. The idea of 'a lot of work' did a lot to turn her into a happy elf once again.

On the following weekend I apparated from Hogsmeade to Rabbit's Hole and dug another space that we would be turning into a garden to grow vegetables and the nontoxic flowers that I could use to put a beehive into my cave.

The enchantments I painstakingly wove into the walls turned the garden in an always-spring bubble. After all, if worst came to be, I wanted to be able to live in the Rabbit's Hole without having to steal from muggles. Making sure the enchantments would filter rain to water the plants without flooding my home had been challenging, but ultimately satisfying.

Coming May, I would have naturally nurtured and homemade honey, as well as homegrown vegetables. Winky had been very happy to find a master with a home filled with so much magic. That aspect would only improve with time. I still gave her several direct orders that prevented her to leave the home. Elves fed on magic, so letting her roam in a castle with 'Master Barty' was a disaster waiting to happen.

And now my home was elf-proof. To shield your belonging against Fae people, you need a contract with a Fae.

While I already knew what the Tasks would entail, I asked Harry to not tell me about the First Task. After all, since I entered myself under my own free will, I was going to have fun.

The thunderbird feather was eager to test herself against a dragon, the wood was convinced I was strong enough to face my first storm, the demiguise was resigned to the... hotheadedness? of its wielder.

So, when the time of the First Task came the Champion's Tent to miss Skeeter's great dismay, contained now three reporters from the Champion's respective countries. We four competitors then posed for photos; together, alone, with our respective headmasters, and with Griselda Marchbanks; who would act as a commentator for the First Task. The butterfly effect was in full bloom: Delacour ended up with the Swedish Short-snout, Krum with the Hungarian Horntail, Harry with the Welsh Green, leaving me with the Chinese Fireball.

Before the judges could leave the tent, I asked: "How will the spectators be protected?" They assured me that the wards were very safe, and that I would be able to toss around a lot of shit without any danger of hurting the roaring crowd.

"I have the feeling it will be raining, perhaps you could make sure the spectators can't be hit by stray lightning?" I merrily suggested. I told Raven to go play riddles with Luna, and for once she actually listened to me.

Someone is satisfied. I thought with a snort. She enjoyed both the photo book and the little riddle contest she had in French with the Beauxbatons reporter.

The air was not heavy with fear and nervousness like in the Canon Potterverse, the presence of reporters from the other countries and the circus act put up by my familiar did a lot to unwind the pre-battle anxiety.

"Did you know that while participating in a Task every kind of spell is permitted? And that if you happen kill the dragon it's legally yours? I have a Gringotts's rendering team waiting outside." I told to the champions that were of age.

They looked at me baffled, and admittedly I said that because every dead dragon would cost a lot to the department responsible for thinking it was a good idea to reintroduce a very deadly contest among students.

If they lost enough money, this would be the last Triwizard Tournament.

And I had managed to get my hands on a very sturdy branch of dogwood which would probably go wonderfully with a dragon heartstring core.

Potter was still the last to go, and we had been isolated from the arena because knowing the tactics of the other champions would be an unfair advantage.

"Trust yourself, and your wand." I told him before leaving the tent "the only thing magic can't do is the one you can't imagine." I would have winked if I had two eyes, but a grin had to do. After a deep breath, I entered the arena.

The rocky ground was scratched and battered, with smoldering rocks and craters, with a booming crowd all around.

With a beautiful scarlet and smooth scaled mother dragon on the opposite side of the arena. She had a fringe of golden spikes around her snub-snouted face and extremely big, golden eyes. I opened my arms, before dipping my head of a fraction, there was no reason to be rude after all.

I had her undivided attention.

I moved my wand in an arc, collecting energy from the heat, before giving it to the transmutation I was operating.

A rock behind me turned into a floating cage made of copper: I created a Faraday cage. I quickly shrunk and pocketed it, before snapping a lightning bolt toward the dragon.

Marchbanks was probably reporting that direct magic attacks, elemental or not, against a magic resistant creature were not a well-thought-out plan.

The point, however, was not harming the dragon, but enraging it, and given the horse-sized freball shot towards me, I had succeeded. For the following thirty minutes I dodged fireballs, swipes of the tail, and bites. By then the ground held enough heat to let me complete the plan with little effort.

It was exhilarating.

With another wide wand movement, I then alchemically changed the shape of a part of the arena. It looked like the rock floor turned liquid while staying cold and wrapped itself around the dragon eggs, I didn't want the Chinese Fireball to crush them after all. I then took all the heat from the ground and threw it into the cloudy sky. The crowd had no idea of what I was planning, even if Marchbanks had been explaining every magic I used, even if only the gist of it. Several of them were booing now, but I recognized the goblins to whom I had promised a dragon: their magic was greedy, and I could taste their impatience.

Eh, see if I care. I thought.

Soon enough, it started to rain, and there was a rising rumble coming from inside the clouds. Lightnings discharging inside the clouds themselves.

Fifteen minutes later, I started to feel the strain. True, the dragon calmed down and stopped chasing me, choosing instead to keep a malevolent eye on me, but holding the lightning in the clouds was taxing, and the build-up was mind-numbing.

When I felt ready, I enlarged the Faraday's Cage, entering it but keeping the front door open.

I raised my wand, now enveloped in white, crackling energy that was based on Kakashi's Chidori. The 'one thousand birds' was a very apt name.

I forged a mental link between my hand and the contained thunderstorm. I slashed my wand to the ground before slamming the Cage's door shut.

The sky broke. Sasuke's Kirin was a kitten to the lion I brought into reality.

Without a thunderbird feather, any wand that attempted the same would have exploded.

It was like the gods themselves choose to strike down that dragon.

The lightning didn't take any discernible form, it came and went in a flash that blinded everyone and exploded a lot of ear-drums.

Luna had donned a very fluffy pair of earmuffs I enchanted and gifted to her, those near Dumbledore had been spared the bone-rattling boom, while a few brilliant witches and wizards among the crowd understood what I was going to do with a split second of advance and used deafening charms on their own ears.

I strolled to the rock I shaped around the eggs and took my golden prize, snatching two dragon's eggs while I was at it before quickly and quietly shattering a third.

The dragon handlers had to think three eggs had been destroyed after all.

The goblins hopped into the arena, quickly securing my prey.

Our accord was simple: they would take care of the rendering and keep for themselves all the meat.

I would keep the organs, the skin, the blood, and the bones.

They would gain a lot of galleons, I a lot of stuff to play with. We were all happy with our arrangement.

I completed the task, and I was without a scratch, since I had used advanced alchemy and elemental manipulation. I took a long time, killed the dragon, and destroyed three eggs.

Dumbledore gave me a disapproving six, Maxime an honest seven, Karkaroff a cheating 4, Bagman a solid ten, Crouch an enraged six.

So, 33 points. My personal task, however, had been met.

Harry potter summoned his broom and ended up first with Delacour.

The self-writing quill I set to copy down Marchbanks report did her work. Delacour sang, weaving a sleep enchantment into her voice, and successfully retrieved the egg in under twenty minutes: 46 points. Krum battled the dragon, losing his non-casting arm, and retrieving the egg while the dragon handlers earned him 25 points for his 'most valiant attempt'. I call bullshit. The points did not make any kind of sense, and while I wasn't first, everyone saw me throwing around the god's wrath and kill a motherfucking dragon without even getting scratched.

A few weeks later Delacour hinted at needing a proper wizard for the Yule ball, but the attendance was not mandatory under the Triwizard charter and I legally turned 18 on the 21st of December. I politely declined and we had a lovely discussion about the magic woven into music.

I went to the orphanage and retrieved my papers, writing down a bullshit new address in the standard code the ministry of magic would recognize. It basically stated my will to freely travel around, letters to me would be retrieved once a month from a specified mailbox. During the winter holidays, I built a hen house near the garden and stole both hens, grains, flour, and a load of Italian cuisine books.

Winky was a good cook.

Now the first room I dug was a vast study with a view, that I managed to keep cozy with carpets and couches. I turned the whole wall on the opposite side from the entrance in a vast kitchen. Air recycling enchantments let me always smell the saltwater without the inherent humidity. I sent a lot of Christmas presents, but I was no longer Hagrid's friend because I killed the dragon.

I sent the dogwood and dragon heartstring wand to Ollivander, and he answered with a book on wood carving with his annotations to make the wood flow with the core. The other parts of the dragon I slew remained into an enlarged crate.

Life was good.