AN: So I originally wrote a plot for a great tragedy of a story with many beautiful messages, but then left it for over a year. Now I have a lot more fun writing ridiculous stories, but I still wanted to follow the original plotline since I like it. So here we are, a beautiful combination of both tragedy and some very questionable humor. Enjoy!
A Summer Clearing: La Introduction
Angel Avidore
"We will be free soon." It spoke.
"Not soon enough."
"A few years, perhaps. Nothing in the span of our lifetime. The blink of an eye. We've waited this long; we can wait a little more." It stated, staring at the formless shape that was its brother.
"I suppose. It may have changed up there, though. We cannot see."
"The last we saw was only a hundred years or so ago. Not much can have changed, surely." It responded confidently. "Magical people do not change easily. They're set in their ways, brother."
"We died, last time. Our method of escape is too fragile."
"What other choice do we have? There are no other methods to escape this existence. We must use the gap." It would have been frowning if it could. "We must take every opportunity. Our banisher has been dead for many years. There will be no one with the knowledge to trap us back here once we escape."
"You speak of escape so confidently, as if the last three times succeeded."
"Our escape was wrong, then. Too dark, like us. We must choose better motives, this time. We must do some good first if we are to escape back into the world."
"I would be happy to just Look. To see something that isn't the Nothing, for once."
"We have Looked before. It is not a good solution to our emptiness brother. It fills the void for a moment, but then we are back to being in the Nothing." It was becoming agitated now.
"Fine. You are right of course, as you usually are, oh Elder." The younger of the two hissed, its voice laced with sarcasm. "So, what is your plan, then? Why will this time be so different?"
"This time we must not play advocate for the dark so obviously. We must be cunning, and charming. We should influence our escape so that we are against the general principles of the Wizengamot, but not so much that we will have no followers."
"Our escape already has followers." The younger brother responded.
"He might. He might not. He has been dead for 13 years now, according to the official standings. Perhaps they have moved on. Either way, we will win them back, or rather, he will." It growled. "We can push for werewolf rights, and dark creature rights. Afterall, that is what we would be considered. We can also push for the new bloods to be taught magical culture, and for magical culture to be brought back in full for the old bloods to practice. No silly laws against supposed dark rituals."
"You speak true. Fine then, you have me convinced. And when we overtake the Wizengamot? When we push all those laws? How do we escape?"
"Then we must begin the purge, as we always do. We cannot be stopped whilst surrounded by allies, and it is the only way to escape, after all." It responded cheerfully.
"And when we escape, what then?"
"Why, we take over the world, as we were born to do all those years ago. And this time, there will be no stopping us, no Merlin to cast us to this strange place. No prison guards, and certainly no more prisons. We will be invincible." It crowed.
"Invincible… I like the sound of that. Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes… it has to."
"Harry Potter" Albus Dumbledore read out in disbelief.
Harry's stomach dropped as he stared blankly at the headmaster. The rest of the school, of course, turned and stared blankly at Harry. He didn't move. In fact, the entire hall had fallen into an eerie silence.
"Mr. Potter, would you please join the champions in that little room to my left?" Dumbledore whispered into the silence.
Harry stood up, still in total disbelief as one might be. He walked shakily over to the little room to the left of Dumbledore and slipped through the door, only just hearing the whispers break out as he entered the room.
"What's up Harry? Do they want us back?" Cedric asked him casually as he sipped on a glass of fire whiskey. Merlin knows where he'd got it from.
"N-no I-
Harry started, but was interrupted by Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff, Snape, and Moody as they burst into the room with all the subtlety of a rampaging horde of elephants.
"Harry, did you put your name in that stupid wooden goblet out there?" Dumbledore asked very calmly. In fact, it might have been better if he were yelling. Harry had never seen Dumbledore so serious, or serene, or so… disappointed looking in his entire life.
"No, sir" he gulped.
"He's lying, obviously. Just like that fucking dunderhead of a father of his. All Potter's are arrogant fucks with no sense of anything important ever." Snape drawled seriously.
"Wait a minute!" The French champion, Fleur Delacour burst out. "Argh you meanin to tell mwah tha' we're supposed ta compete with this smol childe?!"
The French Champion, personally, gave Harry the serious creeps. She somehow spoke in some horrible hybrid version of a French accent and a drunk Hagrid down at the Hogs Head on a Wednesday. Someone that beautiful, you'd expect, would have a gorgeous voice, but no, it was like rubbing a wet porcupine on a carefully crafted broomstick.
Also, Harry was rather offended. He'd always thought he was quite average sized, thank you very much.
"Yes! Dumbley-dore, what is the meaning of this?!" The Beauxbatons headmistress shouted.
"All in good time, my dears. We are still trying to figure this out!" Moody growled sadistically while licking his chops as though there was a chunk of perfectly cooked deer on the table in front of him.
"Everyone, please calm the heck down." Dumbledore's serene voice rang through the room. "As you can see, my eyes are quite dull and not at all twinkly and sparkly right now, which means that this is a matter of grave importance."
"Of course, Headmaster" said Snape, his eyes twinkling madly.
"Now, Mr. Potter has clearly stated that he did not put his name in the Gob. Therefore, we must look for alternative possibilities. Does anyone have any idea why someone else would put Mr. Potter's name in the flaming goblet?" Dumbledore questioned, eyes roaming around the room.
Moody let out a particularly girly giggle. "Someone wants to kill him! Obviously. I mean, its not that obvious. But like, people die in these tournaments my dears. That's not even to mention that it's supposed to be for 17-year old's and up! Potter really doesn't stand a chance. The poor dear's only 14, after all."
Before Harry had a chance to question Moody's elderly woman-like behaviour, Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You make a good point, Alastoria. This could very much be an assassination attempt on Mr. Potter."
"Alastoria?" Harry asked in appropriate confusion.
"Oh, that's right, the school doesn't know yet." Dumbledore nodded. "Mr. Potter, I expect you to take this matter with an upmost maturity."
Harry raised an eyebrow at him.
Dumbledore looked back at him seriously.
"Professor Moody has just come out as, I believe it is, transgender?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Thats right, Albus" Moody giggled. "I heard the term when I was exploring the muggle world for threats last summer. Upon, further investigation, I realised that it fit me perfectly! I had always wondered why I hated having sex as a man, then I realised that the real reason is because I've always subconsciously wanted to be a woman!"
"Oh." Harry said. "Well, congratulations!"
Moody clapped her hands together happily. "Thank you! You know, I'm really starting to understand what Bellatrix was getting at with all this giggling in duels and such. It really makes your opponents squirm, especially dark wizards!" she said excitedly.
"Enough of this nonsense!" Karkaroff barked (literally). "There are much more serious matters at hand… no offence my lady."
"None taken" Moody giggled again. "And you are right, someone's trying to kill Harry Potter!"
"Now, let's not be too fucking hasty here." Snape drawled. "Its just as likely that Potter here was doing it all for attention, as per usual. Next thing we know everything will –
"That's quite enough from you for this evening, Severus." Professor McGonagall said, flicking a silencing charm at him. "That language you're using is honestly ridiculous, I ought to scrub your mouth with soap."
Professor McGonagall, as usual, was playing her part as both the strict old lady and the mother hen.
"Alright everyone, lets all settle down. Hecking Merlin, this is getting out of hand." Dumbledore spoke. "Look, there's obviously not a single thing we can do, and I would know, since I'm wise. Young Harry will simply have to compete in the tournament, despite its formidable danger to the contestants. I'm sure he'll find a way to survive, he's managed the last few years just fine." Dumbledore beamed at Harry.
"Great." Harry said sarcastically.