The Triwizard tournament was beginning in earnest now. Witches and Wizards from three different European schools of magic had gathered for a contest that had not been held in centuries. It was rather thrilling for Harry Potter when he caught his first glimpses of the foreign students.

From Beauxbatons Academy, the premier school of magic on the continent, came two dozen witches of varying levels of astounding beauty and elegance. More than one boy had felt the need to loosen their tie when a particularly majestic blonde had descended from their enchanted carriage. Harry even thought he saw Ron turn a little purple, but that could have just been a remnant of the pie they had for lunch.

And from the Durmstrang Institute, that mysterious school that Harry had heard only dark mutterings about, came some thirteen odd burly looking assorted boys and girls. Harry peered closer, and double counted, but indeed there were only thirteen of them. Harry could have sworn he remembered Dumbledore saying both schools would bring fourteen potential champions. Perhaps it was more of a guideline than a rigid rule?

"Albus. Vhat a pleasure it is to see you again. It has been too long."

So said what appeared to be the headmaster of Durmstrang to Dumbledore. Harry didn't remember what his school head had said after that, because at that moment he was suddenly distracted.

At a high window on the creaking and groaning Durmstrang ship, Harry saw a pair of eyes looking out. It was a steely gaze. An intense purple color unlike any other Harry had seen before. And they were staring right at him.

"Hermione." He poked his bushy haired friend, trying to gain her attention.

"Not now Harry, I'm listening to Madam Maxime talk about her Abraxans. Such fascinating creatures..."

"But- "

Harry looked back at the ship and blinked. The eyes had vanished from the window.

Suddenly all the students shifted and began making their back to the castle. "What was it you wanted to ask me, Harry?" Hermione queried him as they hurried to escape the chill air.

"I-"He glanced back at the ship. There was still no sign of the person he thought he saw. "It's nothing," he eventually said. Hermione looked at him puzzled, but didn't push the matter any further.

Before long, Dinner was served, and Harry and his friends settled into a lively conversation about what they thought the tournament would entail. Hermione thought there might be a dueling phase, but Ron was adamant that dragons would be involved at some point.

"And you'll probably have to fight them with a special weapon. Maybe a giant spear, or a lance, or maybe even a magical sword? Harry whatever happened to that sword you had back in 2nd year, remember? That red one you used to save Ginny with?"

Harry frowned, his good mood evaporating at the mention of the Chamber of Secrets. Memories of a lifeless body and blood pooling on a stone floor involuntary sprung to the forefront of his mind. His face turned green. The roast chicken he was eating suddenly didn't look so appealing anymore.

Abruptly he got up, swinging his bag onto his shoulders. "Stomach's bothering me. Must've been that new French dish," he said as way of excuse, before quickly making his exit from the great hall. He never noticed the deep look of concern Hermione flashed his way.

Harry had had no way of knowing it at the time, but that would be the last normal conversation he would have with his two best friends that year. The next time he saw them, his name was unexpectedly called from the Goblet of Fire. Harry had watched the fourth burst of blue flames with growing dread. Somehow, he just knew what would happen. And sure enough...

"Harry Potter. Please make your way forward."

But Harry didn't move. He couldn't move. He felt frozen in his seat. Like someone had glued him there. Because at that moment, in the sparsely lit great hall, where the shadows stretched long and tall, Harry saw something. Or more accurately, someone.

There sitting at the Slytherin table with the rest of the Durmstrang contingent was a girl. She was pretty. Very pretty. And she had deep black hair, darker even than his own. Her face was pale and sharp. Extraordinarily so, reminding Harry vividly of a picture he once saw, though from where he couldn't remember just then.

But the thing that really stood out about her were her eyes. They were a deep violet color that glowed like the purest amethyst crystal.

It was the same person he had thought he saw before on the ship. But why was she only just now making her first appearance? Harry couldn't think on the matter any longer as Hermione jabbed him with her elbow, and his name was called a second time.

"HARRY POTTER."

Harry winced and slowly got up. The small distance to the head table suddenly seemed like miles. He could hear the angry whispers about him growing louder with each step he took.

"Cheater."

"Always knew he was a glory hound."

"Filthy half-blood."

Harry tried to not let the words get to him. He really did. He should have been used to the school turning against him by now. It was basically par for the course at this point. Yet somehow, he couldn't. That inner resiliency Harry had drawn from for so long seemed to have abandoned him when he needed it most.

It was with his head hung that he slipped into the antechamber Dumbledore pointed him toward. Even the normally congenial headmaster looked disappointed in him.

The room where the champions had gathered was an admittedly cozy one. If it hadn't been for the circumstances, Harry wouldn't have minded coming here on a brisk winter day with a couple of friends. The thought of his friends made him grimace. He had seen no looks of support from them at the Gryffindor table. Not even from Hermione.

"Do zey want us een zee hall?" the Beauxbatons champion asked. But before Harry could answer her the door burst open, and in walked Mr. Bagman, one of the Ministry's representatives.

"Extraordinary. Simply extraordinary. Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce to you the fourth champion of the Triwizard tournament."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that greeted the announcement.

Things only went downhill for Harry from there. He was promptly interrogated by Dumbledore, berated by Snape, insulted by the French champion, and even had points taken from him by McGonagall when he got sarcastic.

When he was finally allowed to leave, Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl in his bed and cry. But it was not to be. The second he walked through portrait hole to the common room cheers exploded.

"Way to go Harry!"

"You make Gryffindor proud!"

"That'll show those puffs!"

Harry thanked them and tried to beg off to the dormitory, but someone blocked his path. It was Ron.

"Yes. Yes. Way to go Harry," Ron said in an unusually calm tone. "Tell us. How'd you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asked in confusion.

A dark look passed over Ron's face. "Do what? Do what he asks us! What do you think blockhead? How'd you enter your name in the goblet? You know, the one with the age line around it? That goblet!"

Harry's eyes widened slightly, taken aback by Ron's vitriol. He looked around for support, but it seemed other people wanted to hear his answer too.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't enter my name in the goblet, Ron. I never wanted to be in this tournament, you know that."

Ron snorted, drawing Harry's attention again. "I know that you're an attention seeker. You always have to make yourself the center of everything. Couldn't let Hufflepuff have all the fame for themselves, oh no. You just had to get yourself a slice of the glory pie, didn't you, Potter?"

Harry gaped at him. "Whose side are you on anyway?" he asked not a little indignantly. He hadn't expected this betrayal.

Ron took a menacing step forward, his right eye twitching and his ears redder than his flaming ginger hair.

"Whose side am I on? I'm on the side of the real Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. I'm on the side of people who don't have an ego the size of a dragon! Of people who don't cheat!"

Harry stared at him. Really looked at him good. It was like he was seeing Ron clearly for the first time now. Harry had always known Ron had a jealous streak a mile wide. Everyone did.

But he had overlooked it because that's what you do for friends. Everyone has their shortcomings, but for those you cared about you could look the other way.

But Harry had never realized Ron's vindictiveness. This viciousness when he didn't get his way. Had Ron always been like this? Harry didn't know. But he didn't think he would be able to forget about it anytime soon.

Harry didn't reply. He simply walked around him and made his way to the stairs leading up to the boy's dormitory.

He was about halfway up when Hermione called his name.

"Harry!"

Harry stopped but didn't look back. Would she rise to his defense?

"You'll need to find a new potions partner. I- I can't work with you anymore."

Harry stood there for a long moment, suddenly feeling bone tired. He simply nodded and went up to bed. Oh, how he wanted to berate her. He wanted to scream and shout at Hermione until he was horse and out of breath, but Harry resisted the temptation. It was bad enough he had lost his two best friends now. There was no need to make this day any more miserable.

The following few weeks were some of the longest of Harry's life. He had never felt more isolated. Not even at the Dursleys. There at least he had Hedwig. But even his favorite feathered friend had been conspicuously absent as of late.

The different Hogwarts houses had all reacted poorly to his entrance in the tournament. Harry wasn't friendly with many Ravenclaws, but with the few he was they suddenly shunned him.

Hufflepuff was furious at him for what they felt was his attempt at stealing their moment in the spotlight. Gryffindor was giving him the cold shoulder for refusing to own up to how he got past the age line. And Slytherin were their usual horrible selves. Harry chuckled softly to himself. At least some things never changed.

"It is good to see you still have a sense of humor. But I wonder, will you still be laughing come the first task?"

Harry whipped around at the sudden intrusion of his space. He was sitting under a tree by the lake. Harry thought of it as "his space" because it seemed to be one of the only spots he could go and be left in peace. No one seemed to bother him here. No one, that is, until now.

Because standing there looking out at the sunset as the waves washed against the shore was the girl. The same girl he had noticed on the Durmstrang ship, and in the great hall. Harry hadn't seen her since, and he honestly hadn't given her another thought what with all the drama surrounding the tournament.

"Not one for small talk I see. I can respect that," the girl continued when he gave no reply. She had a very slight Russian accent.

"Who are you?" Harry finally asked.

She graced him with a smile, and Harry was once again struck by just how pretty she was. The heavy material of her blood red Durmstrang uniform did nothing to hide her sinful curves.

"You may call me Nikita," she said, dipping in a traditional curtsey.

Harry really didn't know how to return the gesture, so he settled on nodding. "I'm Harry Potter," he replied.

This response seemed to amuse Nikita, but she made no mention of it as she sat down opposite him in one elegant movement.

"So, you're a Durmstrang student?"

She nodded.

"What's that like?"

"Oh, it is alright. Sometimes I enjoy it, sometimes not so much."

Harry looked at her awkwardly, curious what her angle was. His hands felt strangely clammy.

"How come you didn't get off the ship with the rest of the Durmstrang students?" asked Harry. The question burst from his lips before he even realized he opened his mouth to speak.

But strangely, she didn't answer. Nikita chose that moment to look back out at the lake and hum an odd tune.

"You are probably wondering why I am talking to you," she finally said after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Harry shifted slightly, trying to ignore the sensation of pressure he felt building in his head. "Yes, the thought did occur to me."

Nikita smiled again, and Harry blushed violently as she leaned closer. Her violet eyes were shimmering like deep pools of lavender.

"You see Mr. Potter, Harry, if I may, I've sought you out for one simple reason."

"And what reason is that?" Harry couldn't help but ask. His head was really starting to hurt now.

"You don't scream in terror when you see me," she answered.

Harry looked at her in confusion. "But why would I- "

He never finished the sentence as suddenly the pressure in his head intensified, and he closed his eyes as he let out a hiss of pain.

"Harry, look at me," he heard Nikita say. Harry did, and he immediately regretted it as he stumbled back in horror.

For Nikita was no longer there. The pretty girl from Durmstrang who had seconds prior had him blushing had vanished. In her place was... well, there was no other word Harry could think of except a Devil.

Long leathery wings dark as the midnight sky unfurled out in enormous dimensions. Easily ten feet tall, with rippling muscles that looked like they could rip Harry in half without even trying, the monster in front of him was truly a terrifying spectacle.

Its skin was as equally black as its wings, and its head had horns longer than Harry was tall. The only thing it shared in common with the girl Nikita was its vaguely feminine figure and her shimmering violet eyes. They burned now with a fire that was positively demonic.

"W-What are you?" Harry asked fearfully as he went for his wand.

The Devil boomed with a deep laughter that seemed to rumble out from beneath the very earth.

"Why Harry, don't you listen? I told you, I'm just a simple schoolgirl!"

More booming laughter followed that statement, and the pain in his head kept growing until it finally reached a crescendo and Harry couldn't take it anymore. He promptly blacked out.

When Harry woke up again, he found himself lying face down in the grass. Groaning, he slowly got to his feet, trying to remember why he had fallen asleep outside. And then he remembered her... it. Whatever that was.

A cold sweat broke out all over Harry's body as he looked around, fully expecting to see the monster hop out from behind some trees and attack him. But there was nobody there. The Hogwarts grounds were deserted.

He checked his watch and groaned again as he realized he had missed dinner. It was half past one o'clock in the morning. He would have to sneak his way past Filch just to make it back to the common room.

He stood there for a moment, breathing deeply as he tried to collect himself. Maybe the whole thing had been a product of his imagination? Merlin only knew how stressed out this whole tournament had made him. Perhaps it was finally taking its toll on his mental stability, making him see things that weren't really there.

He briefly considered going to Madam Pomfrey before deciding against it. The last thing he needed right now was the whole school thinking he was crazy in addition to being a cheater!

A shadow flickering out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Harry turned to see that someone was sneaking off the Durmstrang ship. He crouched down and waited with bated breath, ready to make a run for it at the slightest sign of wings or horns.

But he needn't have worried. It was Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion. Harry came out from behind the tree and called to him as the gruff Bulgarian finally reached the shore.

"Viktor!"

The quidditch superstar somehow didn't look surprised to see him. "Potter. Vhat are you doing here?"

Harry grinned, just glad to see another human being. "Oh, I fell asleep and lost track of the time. I was just making my way back to the castle now... but what are you doing out so late? Won't you get in trouble?"

Krum refused to make eye contact as he looked around wearily. "I have my own business to take care of. As to getting in trouble..." he shrugged. "This is not a problem for me."

Harry nodded. Being a superstar seeker had its fair share of perks. "Ah. Alright. Well, I guess I'll see you around then."

''Da."

Harry nodded and turned to leave, but then changed his mind. Slowly he turned back to the Durmstrang champion. "Hey Viktor. Can I ask you a question?"

Krum looked like he wanted to say no, but reluctantly nodded yes anyway.

"Exactly how many students from Durmstrang are here for the tournament?"

Krum raised one of his bushy eyebrows. "Thirteen. Including myself. Vy you ask?"

Harry turned pale as a ghost. "No reason," he said in a whisper. Quickly as his feet would carry him he turned and ran back to the castle. He needed to fetch his invisibility cloak. Pronto.

He never noticed Krum watch him go the whole way.

A/N: New story concept! It's a little strange, and I know I haven't finished my other stories. But it just suddenly burst into my head and I couldn't sit still until I put the whole thing to paper. How it came about is basically I was reading a flowerpot fic, and I got the idea of what it would be like if there was a girl who the total opposite of Fleur.

Instead of being angelic, she'd be demonic. Instead of being so alluring you can't look away, she's so terrifying you can't look away. Instead of going to Beauxbatons, she's a Durmstrang student. But she's not just a character foil, you'll see that as the story goes along. Anyway, that's the jist of it. How exactly that will work is something you'll have to read to find out :)

Please review and let me know what you think!