In a haze of blue flame, the goblet spat out one last name out of its bowels. Harry's chest clenched painfully as he watched its flight with trepidation filling his madly beating heart. The tiny scrap of parchment, having reached the peak of its short flight started drifting downwards, slowly, in a manner almost playful. Towards the surprised Headmaster's outstretched arm.
The proclamation of his involuntary participation in this year's death trap and the jeering gazes of his classmates, caused something inside Harry to bend and nearly crack.
'Of course, it wouldn't be any different this year, why would it.' His head spinning, he placed his palms upon the table, and ignoring his so-called Gryffindor family, stood with an angry shove against the wooden planks. Ron's accusing gaze hurt the most. Deliberately not paying any attention to the whispers and the stares he fixed his eyes forward, towards the great table and Dumbledore. Heeding the Headmaster's direction with nary a nod he started towards the small door off to the side of the hall, leading to the place the rest of the Champions had disappeared into.
Pulsing, something was pulsing within him like a second heartbeat.
Opening the door and stepping inside the modest room the noise of the great hall faded the moment he closed the door. The three senior students were conversing amongst themselves in soft tones, painting an almost cozy picture amidst the rich tapestries of Hogwarts and the hearth's glow emanating from the fireplace.
But the smell of merrily burning wood and the subsequent warmth suffusing the room refused to touch the youth, who felt as if a wide deep dark chasm separated him from his surroundings, refusing to allow the heat to cross over and to him. Leaving him alone with his dark thoughts.
Cedric, whose placement gave him the clearest view of the entrance noticed him first, pausing mid-word as he stared with a small amount of surprise. The French girl clad in delicate silver robes akin to a gently flowing river, frowned at that before turning her head to follow his gaze, seeing the Boy who Lived, and coupled with the teens vacant stare she sniffed in slight irritation coming to the wrong conclusion and spoke. "Yes, what is it little boy? Did the professors want something?"
Harry frowned at her haughty tone, "No..no, i-"
"Well, what is it then? Spit it out little boy."
As his frown started to turn into a scowl and a soft glow emanated from his eyes, Cedric interrupted.
"Peace, Fleur. Let him explain please. Well, what do they want Harry?" the brown haired Hufflepuff asked with a smile.
Taking a deep breath he replied, "The goblet, that blasted thing spat out another name. I am apparently the "fourth champion". All I wanted was one bloody normal year! Is that too much to ask?"
Krum, silent so far, the sullen eyed dark youth preferring to observe before speaking, a habit ingrained to him thanks to his experiences in Durmstrang, merely gave one solitary blink of surprise and raised a curiosity filled eyebrow towards the snarling teen.
"Err, is that right. Well. In that case, Harry this here is-" started the off-kilter Hufflepuf with a weirded-out expression but still trying to roll with the punches.
"A joke. As if the goblet would declare another champion, and one so..lacking as this..little boy."
Seeing her roll her eyes at him, Harry's own narrowed into slits, as he glared at the haughty blonde who just wouldn't stop, and things started shaking around him.
"Call me boy one more time, see what happens." He said with a wild-eyed smile.
She scoffed, "You will do what little bo-"
The beat of maddened drums within his skull came to an abrupt end, and after one agonizing moment that might have lasted an instant or an eternity, and in which the world around him seemingly froze, the thing that before had felt bent within him, cracked. Shattering into a million-billion pieces of sharp shards of stained glass. On the outside and with a wrathful yell a wave of force propagated outwards from Harry.
Blasting the rest of the champions into the corners of the room and making the very bricks groan in protest as well as shattering the furniture nearby Harry and nearly extinguishing the fireplace's flame. The tiny inferno quivering madly underneath its sudden assault by wild magic.
Fleur, was somewhat luckier than the other two, for she crushed into a couch, breaking the poor thing in half. Spluttering and coughing, she spat out the dust which had invaded her nostrils and shook her head so as to dislodge the small amounts of wooden pieces now infesting her hair. Taking a moment to regain her senses and realizing what happened, rage sparked in her heart. The ancestral blood within and the instincts accompanying it demanding penance from the uppity wizard who was even now smirking at her, obviously pleased with himself. Just like those arrogant bastards from her grandmother's tales.
Ignoring the other two groaning boys nearby, slumped against the walls, she erupted upwards with a screech and a burst of flame, almost reminiscent of a phoenix. In the process and due the heat emanating from her, ensuring that the once damaged couch was now beyond even the means of most magic to fix. After all, ashes are a little more difficult to repair compared to actual pieces of wood and cloth.
"You..how dare you!" She snarled, glaring as she did at the wizard in front of her. Who was glaring back at her with glowing eyes, wand aloft and a snarl of his own leaving his lips at her challenging tone.
Another incoherent screech left her lips at this further defiance, more reminiscent of an avian's croak rather than human speech. She slashed her wand and a fountain of flame exploded from its tip towards the teen. Further proving her worth as a champion, the young woman did not stop there. The instant she finished casting her first curse another left her lips and after a different motion that of her wand's.
Hastily, Harry cast a luminescent shield. Which the woman's spells barraged upon relentlessly, loud gongs emanating with each impact, reverberating throughout the room and causing the other two champions to utter further groans as they attempted to stand. The loud noises not helping with the ringing already present between their ears. At least, the broad-shouldered Bulgarian seemed to be made of sterner stuff and he steadied himself somewhat, even managing to send a quick healing spell, one of the few he knew, to his still green-looking compatriot still leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. Cedric, his nausea abating send a grateful nod.
"See little boy? This is but a taste of what awaits you before you earn forgiveness. Daring to call yourself a Champion? Hah! All you can do is cower behind that shield!" said Fleur before she started laughing, assured of her victory, and revenge.
"Are you done, is this it?"
"Excuzez-moi?"
"Is this the extent of your strength woman?" questioned Harry, wand held steadfast and with no sign of exhaustion upon his face despite the shield in front of him which shined like the moon from which it was inspired by, and which the girl knew was quite the draining spell to cast. Much less maintain. "You asked what will happen if you taunted me one more time. Well, let me show you. After all I make good on my promises."
His piece said an incoherent growl left the boy's lips and then he flared his magic, the pressure emanating from him causing cracks to form upon the ground all around him, making the very room tremble and dust to fall from where it had cozily rested for ages, between the bricks themselves, on the chandeliers and other such places, Fleur, wide-eyed, unconsciously took a stumbling step back with another disbelieving screech.
Harry, for his part had never felt so alive, whatever happened before, released something deep within him, something primal. The magic flowing within his veins was practically singing to him now, quite unlike the almost slugging sensation he felt whenever he had to cast a spell anytime before, it was all but begging him to use it, in fact. And so, he did.
With a taunting smirk upon his lips, he dissipated his shield, ignoring both the witch's bewildered double-take and then the victorious gleam in her eyes a moment later followed by a stab of her wand. And as her purple curse was about to strike him, he slapped it out of the air with a nearly translucent barrier of energy coating the outer portion of his forearm. Just like he did the rest that followed behind it.
The other three champions, could only stare gobsmacked, their eyes locked on to the complex piece of magic performed by Harry. Krum, for his part mentally re-evaluated his newest competitor. After all this was quite the complex bit of spell-work, one which he still had trouble with and, unsurprisingly, one that his esteemed Headmaster couldn't manage at all.
In a quick motion, and without even looking he passed his wand to his free arm, wandlessly maintaining the shield on his other arm. Leveling his wand towards her with his offhand he started casting back. Whereas Fleur's spells were like hammers landing upon an anvil, Harry's, she thought as she now cowered behind her trembling shield, counter attacking where she could. Could be likened to heavy lead cannonballs fired from a pirate ship looking to plunder her booty.
Cedric and Krum, now also stood behind shields, trying to defend against the magical backlash and the various deflected spells. For the air all around the room was now rich with wild magic, and neither of them was foolish enough to stay in such an environment without at least some kind of cover or protection.
"Harry-" Cedric tried.
But the young man, wild grin in place would not be deterred," Ah-huh-ah, Cedric old pall old chum. She wanted to see the mettle of a British wizard. And what sort of host would I be to deny a lady's desire?" he asked mockingly, never pausing in his casting. Spell after spell leaving his wand more akin to a muggle's semi-automatic rifle than a normal wizard casting their spells.
Fleur, on one knee, panting and with sweat braking across her brow and back could suffer this indignity no more! Letting out a ferocious snarl and feeding even more of her passion to her ancestral side, she felt everything starting to grow hazy, the beast inside starting to take over. But in return the potency of her spells increased and newfound strength flooded her limbs, increasing with each passing moment.
Unfortunately, Harry would not be denied. Seeing the girl starting to transform, he remembered that blasted summer tournament and one of the Quidditch's teams' mascots. He had no desire to see what an angry Veela looked like up close and personal, nor did he like to see what being a chicken in the pan felt like, courtesy of a fireball. So, he indulged the roaring in his blood, the magic within demanding it be let loose, and stopped holding back.
If his spells previously could be likened to cannonballs, then now they were like the hammer of Thor baying for the blood of a frost giant. His first spell, a variant of Bombarda that he had stumbled upon in the library sometime past, collapsed the girl's already flickering shield.
The second, knocked the wind out Fleur's lungs causing her to double over and knocking her back down. The sheer force behind it all but burning out Fleur's half-formed transformation, her roused innate magic hastily and instinctively diverting and expending itself in order to protect the young witch from the hammer of magic. Forcing her to resume her normal form as she lay there groaning and with her eyes pinched shut.
And finally with a trusty Expeliarmus, Fleur's wand left her nerveless fingers landing upon his own. With a wand in each arm and his rampant magic causing his cloak to billow, Harry looked like a warlord of old. Smirking at the defeated and once again normal looking witch. Whose eyes had snapped back open as was glaring at him from her place on the floor..
That is until.
"What is going on in here?!"
Shouted Karkaroff, as the door behind the teen slammed open and the professors entered.
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Making a fist Harry looked on outwards, his ears still ringing from yesterday's ass chewing courtesy of the old farts. Still, looking upon the giant squid playing with some sort of tentacled creature from the depths, the mean-spirited thing trying and failing to outdo the gentle leviathan, a laugh bubbled out from Harry's chest.
He found that he didn't particularly care for the professors' opinions. Grinning, and with the wind caressing his face he aimed his wand at one of the creature's friends, who was seemingly seeking to escape, now that the squid's attention was on its compatriot. Freezing it in place and then throwing it at one of the many eager tentacles he grinned before his gaze hardened.
Once and twice was coincidence and all that. Enough was enough. Harry would survive this, no. He wouldn't just survive. Everyone thought he was a glory seeking prat? Well fuck them. He would win this.
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Fuck irl. I had quite a few things I wanted to write those past few days, but various health issues and other crap made my plans go the way of the dodo. So since I wanted to write something, here. Shorter than usual but I had this plot bunny for a couple of days and it will do as an intro.
To answer the usual questions. No, this ain't a one-shot. No, it ain't slash. Yes, there will be romance.
Will Harry be op? Err, if you mean Saitama levels of stronk not really? But he won't be the canon wimp either.
Oh and to preempt this question, no accent for Fleur cause I don't wanna. Imagine that this Fleur learned better English or something. As for Hagrid..hell no!