Welp, enjoy the big changes in this one! I've got plans for Sven later ;) and updates might take a bit longer. I've hurt my hand by interfering in two cats fighting so... fun stuff.

I stood just outside of the Age Line curiously. Everyone else had long gone to bed and security was lax tonight given people were supposed to be putting their names in the goblet when they gathered the courage. It was late though—or early, to some—and the last of the brave souls had left after slipping their name into the cup. Given my usual nighttime wanderings, I found myself down here eyeing the charm and the goblet itself.

Curiously, I reached a hand out, wondering if one had to fully pass the barrier to be struck by its defenses or what those defenses might be.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

My hand froze millimeters from the edge of the line, slowly returning to my side as Dumbledore stepped into the room in his nightclothes, carrying a steaming cup of tea. I bowed my head in silent greeting but turned my gaze back to observing the cup and its glittering blue flames.

"I didn't take you as someone interested in the tournament," he mused, settling himself on the step that held the head table.

"I'm not," I answered easily. "I've spent my whole life trying to stay alive. Risking that in a wizard tournament seems… dumb."

He chuckled lightly, amused. "Yes. Yes, it does, doesn't it? I believe the Minister might very well choke on his wine should you of all people participate. Given your skillset, winning would also be possible, though I do suggest waiting until he's out of office before attempting such a feat or the man might have his heart give out."

"Because of what I am," I concluded, earning a hum.

"Yes. Your kind are very powerful in their own right. Learning everything we do is a risk, in his eyes. Giving a powerful being the means to become more powerful all while hoping they stay near the side of good despite the treatment they've received."

I turned away from the goblet finally. "Why try at all then? If the risk is so great, one would think more restrictions would be a better method of control than befriending us."

The man smiled. "I do believe I may have… twisted his arm in the matter. Cain told me quite a bit about you and your talent for learning. It seemed a shame to let it go to waste because of something that happened out of your control."

I frowned, remembering how Cain had said something very similar and how betraying it felt. It was very possible this man was doing the same thing, teaching me out of curiosity like a toy until I no longer proved useful. He must have noticed my hint of bitterness though, being quick to address it.

"You believe I only brought you to my school for my own gain."

I eyed him before looking back at the goblet and sitting on the ground to look at the fine line between me and it. "Cain was, and something I've learned here is that people can be kind or cruel for many reasons. Many of which are for their own benefit."

"I will admit that I do have plans for this to be beneficial not only to myself, but to many other wizards," he said seriously, but I waited, sensing he had more to say. "However, I also offered the opportunity because there are many good people who end up in poor situations out of their control. You being a prime example. A child should not have to choose between harming or killing another person over their own survival. I've seen enough of that for a lifetime."

We settled into silence for a moment.

"I suppose it is still selfish and wrong of me to offer you a better option to soothe my own past faults," he added solemnly. "Especially given all the problems that have happened to you because of it… Do you regret accepting my offer, Sven?"

I had to think this over for a moment. I've learned a lot about magic and about people and wizards. Yes, I had to deal with Slytherins attacking me in my own house and rumors of me going around among other things. Yet, I had made friends, had met Luna, and finally had a home to go to where I felt safe. My hunger had gotten worse and instead of hurting someone or being encouraged to hurt someone, I had people supporting me in my decisions. It was… different.

"No, I don't," I finally answered. "I've learned a lot. I… made progress and feel… feel as though I have a purpose to live for. I didn't have that in the coven. But…" I gave him a glance. "…I won't thank you for the offer. It was very troublesome."

He chuckled, more relaxed again. "Yes, well, I don't think anyone would. I appreciate the honest response though."

"Luna says being honest is a good trait, even if some people don't like it," I said idly, gazing at the goblet as I lifted a finger to point at the Age Line. "Is this a charm or runic spell?"

He raised a brow. "Is that why you are here?"

I nodded, tipping my head slightly. "It is a curious spell. Written like runes but also wand casted and holding no runes itself. Does it work on physical age using time itself or some other form?"

"I do believe giving it up would allow you to cheat, Sven."

"I've no interest—"

"Yes, but your friends do. I have no doubt the Weasley twins will be in here first thing to have their attempts," he hummed, getting up. "So, unfortunately, I cannot soothe your curiosity just yet. I've no doubt your loyalty to your friends is far higher than what you offer me."

Knowing he was probably right, I shrugged lightly and settled for trying to figure things out myself until the house-elves would be up for breakfast. Not that there was much I could learn without knowing what kind of spell it was.

The next morning was Saturday, and despite it being a weekend, Harry and the others had entered the Great Hall to find more than just the Goblet of Fire. People were already seated and chewing toast as they stared almost longingly at the cup, except one.

"Sven? I thought you'd actually be interested in this whole tournament thing," Ron commented, seeing the Slytherin carefully slicing through a pancake on his plate with a notebook opened just to the right of him.

The vampire lifted his head at his name, blinking at the trio before shaking his head as they sat near him. Breakfast and lunch were the few times they were able to join him, after all, and the people from other houses had grown used to the odd group by now.

"No. I don't care for dying, thanks."

"No one's gonna die," Ron waved off as a plate appeared before him too and he picked up a piece of toast. "They said, didn't they?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They said multiple people died in past tournaments, Ron. Dumbledore also said the tasks were dangerous."

Sven grunting in agreement, giving the goblet a small frown before abandoning his knife to scribble something in the notebook.

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious.

"Runes," Sven muttered. "Dumbledore wouldn't tell me what type of casting he used for the Age Line."

Hermione perked up at that and before the two could trail off in a discussion about ancient runes and spell theory, Harry cut in again.

"Were you down here all night, Sven? Did you see who was putting their name in the goblet?"

Sven turned away from Hermione as she flipped through his notes and nodded. "Yes. There were quite a few until early this morning. Many after everyone had gone to bed. A Hufflepuff, some Slytherins, a Ravenclaw or two," he ticked off his fingers. "And every student from Durmstrang."

"Wow "

Sven hummed, drinking what Harry could only assume was blood from the dark crimson color of whatever was in his goblet. Despite knowing it was animal blood, it still sent a small chill down his spine.

"No Gryffindors?" Ron asked, oblivious to the drink as he ate his own breakfast.

"No. I believe Fred and George will be the first," Sven replied, glancing at the doors. "They spoke with me earlier when they saw me looking at the goblet for ideas, but I had no answer for them and they left."

"Probably going to try something silly," Hermione grumbled. "If Dumbledore cast the spell, there's no way it would be broken so easily."

Just as she said that the twins burst into the Great Hall with Lee Jordan, looking smug.

"Done it. Just taken it," Fred said with a grin.

"What?" Ron questioned, curious what tricks the trio had up their sleeves.

"The Aging Potion, dung brain."

George rubbed his hands together in excitement. "One drop each. We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," Lee added as Sven spoke up.

"Won't work."

The twins looked at him as he brought another piece of his pancake to his mouth, nearly choking when they both smacked him hard on the back.

"Now, now, our pale serpentine friend."

"Where's your show of confidence?"

"But two people already—"

He was again cut off as they completely ignored him and they all rushed for the goblet.

"Ready?" Fred asked the other two, looking eager. "C'mon then. I'll go first."

He pulled a piece of parchment with his name and stepped up to the line. He took a deep breath and moved over it. For a second, nothing happened and that was good enough for George to jump in after him. Then, there was a sizzling sound and the two were thrown out of the circle and onto the stone floor with long, white beards now on their faces. Everyone laughed, including them, when they saw the beards and Sven sighed.

"I was going to say two people already tried an Aging Potion."

"I did warn you," Dumbledore chuckled in amusement as he stepped into the room. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. As Sven was trying to tell you, she is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything as fine as yours."

The trio did as he said, still laughing despite their misfortune and Sven tipped his head in confusion as to why their failure was so funny, while the others ate. Angelina—the Gryffindor chaser—was next to put in her name and as the trio was leaving to check on Hagrid, the Beauxbaton girls all deposited theirs. It was just as Sven was leaving though, and the trio watched in surprise as the group of girls paused to wave, giggle and greet said vampire, who awkwardly offered his greetings back.

"How come they only talk to him?" Ron complained.

"Maybe because he's just polite, Ron," Hermione huffed. "You know. He's not staring at them like they're trophies to be admired or anything. He's treating them like real people. You could do with a bit of that."

"Yeah, okay, sure. But did you see him last night? He was talking to Krum too, wasn't he? You think he'd get his autograph for me?"

"Ron!"

"What? I wasn't gonna ask him," Ron grumbled, a bit put out but knowing that Sven wouldn't even know what he was asking, given the vampire's awkwardness about everything.

Still, it was tempting.

They passed their time with Hagrid for a while, confused by the man's dressing up until they realized it was because he had a crush on Madame Maxime. Once they left, it was time to head to the Halloween feast just in time to see Krum and the other Durmstrang students heading in themselves. The Great Hall was fully decorated for the holiday with live bats and oversized pumpkins scattered about, but the focus was the burning goblet situated in front of Dumbledore's seat at the head table.

The students weren't nearly as interested in the food as they would've been, given what was to happen when they finished, and would eagerly peer past one another to see if Dumbledore had finished yet. When plates were finally empty and quiet settled over the hall, Dumbledore finally got to his feet.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber—" He gestured to a door behind the staff table. "—where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He drew his wand and swept it over the hall, snuffing out the candles aside from those in the grinning pumpkins before waiting with the others. The goblet remained full of blue flames for only a moment longer before it shifted to red and sparked until a piece of parchment flew from it for Dumbledore to grab.

"The champion for Durmstrange will be Victor Krum," he announced, as everyone applauded and the man rose from his seat across from Sven at the Slytherin table and he slipped into the back room.

The applause died down and everyone waited for the next slip to be thrown out.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

More applause rang out, though the other Beauxbaton girls were upset and crying. The last champion would be from Hogwarts and the goblet turned red, throwing out a slip only for Dumbledore to go quiet. Murmurs started up when he didn't say anything for a moment before his gaze lifted and scanned across the room towards the Slytherin table. Said table tensed, looking thrilled that someone from their table might be on the parchment, only for the name to fall from the headmaster's lips.

"Sven Rydell."

The boy went stiff, all eyes moving to him. It didn't make sense to anyone. He was underage. The boy had no want or need to even try and put his name in the goblet. McGonagall and even Snape looked spooked by this sudden turn of events. Dumbledore waited only a moment longer before calling out again.

"Sven Rydell!"

The boy stood calmly, though confused and looking the least thrilled about this as he stepped forward and moved to the front before sliding behind the door with the other champions. Yet, as Dumbledore attempted to move on, the goblet burned fiery red once more and spat out yet another name.

"Harry Potter."

I stood before the duo who'd been called already, earning confused looks from them both. I'd met them, after all. Both knew I was underage. I'd shown no interest in the tournament nor in whatever they'd done to make themselves so well known amongst Hogwarts students. They appeared just as confused as I was and even more so when the door opened again and Harry stepped in.

I tipped my head at Harry, but he seemed so dumbstruck that he didn't even notice where he was or what was being said to him.

"Sven."

I turned to Krum who was frowning.

"Why are you here?"

"My name was pulled from the goblet as Hogwarts' champion," I answered simply, and before they could ask about Harry or argue that point, the judges, Headmaster, and the heads of our houses stormed into the room.

"Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary!" Bagman shouted, looking thrilled. "Gentlemen, lady. May I introduce—incredible though it may seem—the fourth Triwizard champion?" He gestured to Harry and made the other two champions eye him in disbelief.

"Oh, very funny joke, Mr. Bagman," Fleur huffed. "One champion I may believe, but two?"

"Joke? No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

She went to argue again but the other adults had their own complaints.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Madame Maxime huffed.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Karkaroff grumbled. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

"C'est impossible. Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore. Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's and Rydell's, Karkaroff," Snape added, laying a hand on my shoulder and squeezing tightly as he spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here, and Mr. Rydell is much the same and will be receiving a stern punishment as someone from my house breaking Hogwarts rules."

"I didn't break any rules," I argued, easily taking his hand off me.

"If I may speak?" Dumbledore said, silencing everyone as he turned to me. "Did you place your name in the goblet, Sven?"

"No," I answered with a scowl and he turned to Harry.

"And you?"

"No," Harry said, voice quiet as I spoke up.

"I've been near the goblet most of the night and I never saw Harry near it," I declared. "Nor any Gryffindor students until Fred and George made their attempt."

"So you admit to trying!"

I frowned at Karkaroff. "I was looking at trying to figure out the Age Line for my own benefit, not to enter a tournament I want no part in. Ask the Headmaster. He saw me."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will agree with what he has said. He showed no interest in the tournament since its announcement and was only interested in the spellwork, as is his nature. I am sure many other students will agree with this if you do not believe me."

McGonagall sighed, drawing attention to her. "Even I must agree with that. You could hand him twenty Galleons and he'd ignore them in favor of learning a new charm. He is not a normal young man."

I mouthed the word "normal" uncertain of what she could mean by that but she'd seemingly calmed the suspicions against me.

"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman. You are our objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?" Karkaroff grumbled, searching for a way to fix this.

Crouch looked as stern as before but with a hint of almost pleasure in his gaze as it landed on me. No doubt word had gotten around that I'd accused his dead son of being the one at the World Cup. Someone had just given him a front-row seat to my potential death.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

Bagman had no disagreement with this either. "Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front."

Still upset about the unfairness of it all, Karkaroff scowled. "I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students. You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," Bagman explained. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out—it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament—"

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" Karkaroff bellowed. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," grunted a voice near the door that made me stiffen instinctively as Moody moved into the room. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

My eyes followed him as he moved towards the fireplace in the room. Dumbledore had spoken to him after Luna brought me to his office and things had calmed down somewhat. Still, the man set me on edge. I wasn't about to forget what he'd done just yet.

As it was, he seemed to be stirring the pot. The heads of the school were arguing again and Moody was claiming Harry had been forced into this by someone who wanted him dead. I was almost of the same opinion myself given the pleased Mr. Crouch and the teacher who'd been tormenting me the entire start of term.

They only spoke of Harry though, and his concerns at being put in the tournament. I wasn't mentioned at all, though Dumbledore spared me a few glances in his silence. I realized then that I'd forgotten something. Harry was famous. They were worried about him because of his feats or future feats against Voldemort. Some other younger student getting into the tournament hardly mattered when Harry was involved.

I didn't mind, honestly. Fading into the background was something I rather enjoyed when I could manage it. It meant no one paid me any mind. No one was attacking me, no one was asking me questions on things I had no answers to, and I was free to focus on the hunger in the back of my throat. Being brought into a room of racing heartbeats and adrenaline after having been stuck in the Great Hall with all the eager students had made the last goblet of blood feel like hours ago.

Then, Dumbledore silenced the room and spoke again. "Well, shall we crack on, then? Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch blinked out of his own trance and hummed. "Yes. Yes... the first task… The first task is designed to test your daring. So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

The last part made me frown. I rather enjoyed the end-of-term tests and their challenges. I wondered if Dumbledore would let me take them anyway, but then realized I may have to be studying up for these challenges and sighed in resignation.

"Everything all right, Sven?"

I glanced at Dumbledore, realizing everyone had left but Harry, Bagman, Dumbledore, and I.

"I was just thinking about missing the end-of-term tests," I muttered. "I have no way of resigning from this tournament, do I?"

He cracked a small smirk as Harry shot me a look of disbelief that I'd rather take tests than do the tournament. "Unfortunately, no. Both you and Harry are going to have to do your best in this."

I huffed. "I refuse. I will survive but I will not, as you say, 'do my best.' When we find who put our names in, do tell me so I may explain to them about the importance of my exams that I'm now missing for some… game."

He chuckled. "I will definitely do so. You are certain you saw no one suspicious near the goblet at all, Sven? You were around it the longest, I believe."

I shook my head. "I saw no one other than those who went to the infirmary, Durmstrang students, and a few other older students. I did, however, step away to the kitchens for a moment twice during the night. Anyone may have slipped in then."

He nodded with a hum, muttering about asking the portraits and ghosts before giving me one last look. "And how are things? Your condition, I mean?"

Given Bagman was still in the room and enjoying the fireplace, I knew to be discreet. "With more people around, I'm having more trouble and need to… drink more often. The headaches are frequent but I am doing as I was taught and persevering for the moment."

He nodded, a slight furrow to his brow but accepted the answer before shooing Harry and me out of the room. Harry and I walked through the empty Great Hall and up the stairs which finally brought him to speak with me.

"You're not going to your common room?"

"I've long since abandoned the idea of sleeping with those in my house," I explained, reminding him of how the other Slytherins didn't care for me. "I sleep in a room I've discovered through Fred and George that keeps me from being found by them. It is one of the few places of peace I'm allowed in school."

"I thought things had gotten better."

"They have, though someone has been attacking me in the hall as of late. Not the usual students either. I've since spoken to Dumbledore about it because Luna insisted. They have calmed but I'm… concerned that my name in the goblet may have been retribution for stopping them."

"You know who it is who put our names in?"

I hummed, head tipped slightly in thought as to how to explain this. "I believe I have an idea who may have put my name in. They may or may not have put yours in as well. I have no evidence, however, and as such, my claims are not something… valid, I suppose."

"What do you mean? Who do you think it is?"

"I have been to see Dumbledore about Professor Moody. He was… utilizing me rather heavily in class and according to Luna and Ginny, it was something not kind that I didn't quite realize. They took me to speak with Dumbledore and when I mentioned the attacks in the hall, we both came to a similar conclusion that he may be responsible for that as well."

"Professor Moody? But how could he… Why would he…"

I shrugged as we neared his common room entrance. "I do not know and without evidence, even Dumbledore is hesitant to agree. I simply know that whoever is attacking me is not one of the usual students. The spells are more advanced and they are far better at hiding and covering their tracks. I've not yet met a student here who could do such a thing. The other professors I have not had issues with. It is only since Professor Moody appeared that I have had trouble both in class and outside of it. He is someone I could see putting my name in the goblet… though perhaps Mr. Crouch as well."

"What? Why would a judge do that?"

I shuffled a bit awkwardly as we stopped outside the portrait-hole for Gryffindor tower. "The man I encountered at the World Cup… I was sent to the Ministry to identify him and I may have pointed to a picture of Mr. Crouch's deceased son."

"What!"

"It is who I saw. I had no other proof and because the Minister knows of my condition, nothing came of it other than rumors spreading among the Ministry. They must have reached him, for he looked rather pleased to be able to see me possibly die in this tournament. I am less inclined to believe he put my name in than I am about Professor Moody, but he was certainly excited at the prospect."

"But Professor Moody… Dumbledore wouldn't hire a professor unless he trusted them, right? He's an Auror too. Why would he… He wouldn't be helping You-Know-Who by putting my name in. He was even saying it was a plot to get me killed."

I shook my head lightly. "I do not know. He makes me unsettled though. Whether he put either of our names in or not, I feel I do not trust him." I paused then, thinking before looking at Harry. "Shall we work together?"

He gaped. "W-What?"

I cracked a slight hint of a smile. "You are saying that word a lot tonight. 'What' this and 'what' that."

He frowned and lightly punched my arm as I let out a mild chuckle. "Shut it. What do you mean work together? We're supposed to be competing in the tournament."

"But there is no rule saying we mustn't work together. Only that we cannot ask professors for assistance. I do not wish to perish in this game, as I'm sure you do not as well. So, I will offer my help to you and to the others as well, if they ask it." I shrugged rather nonchalantly. "I see no fault in ensuring the safety of each other. We can fight at the very end if we must, but we must make it there first, no?"

Harry shook his head with a fond smile. "You're impossible, Sven."

I raised a brow, confused. "Impossible in what way? Anyone can become a vampire if bitten."

Harry snorted. "No! It's a saying! A-A phrase people say. It means what you're offering sounds crazy."

"Oh," I mused. "But I am perfectly sane…"

He chuckled. "Never mind. Don't worry about it, but sure. If you want to work together, I'll definitely find you. I don't want to get hurt in this either." He thought about it then before giving me a look. "How do you think the Slytherins will take it?"

I hummed, tipping my head back to think about it. "I… do not know. They are prideful and may be pleased a Slytherin is in the game at all, but because it is me, I am not sure. There is also me helping you. They will not be pleased if they find out."

"Should we find somewhere secret to meet up?" Harry asked and I nodded, rather excited.

"Yes! We can meet in my room. It is safe from all who do not know of it and even those who do. I wish to show Luna there as well, so it will be perfect for meeting."

"You're… You're okay with that? You said it was your safe place."

I tipped my head towards my shoulder in confusion. "But I trust you and we are friends, are we not?"

He smiled again, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right. Okay. Then, we can meet at lunch tomorrow?"

I nodded, eager to show my friends my room. "Yes. On the seventh floor. I will find you and show you how to get in."

"Okay. Sounds good. Can I… Can I bring Ron and Hermione too?"

"Yes. We are also friends. I will bring Luna and Ginny. We can all study for exams and the game."

"But we don't have to take the exams."

I frowned. "I might want to though. I will need to ask Dumbledore if I can."

"You want to take tests?"

"Do students not like tests? I never understand why they get so upset about them."

Harry sighed with a shake of his head. "Yeah, I'm gonna leave that for someone else to explain. You, um… You have a good night, Sven."

"Yes. I will see you tomorrow," I hummed, turning into my bat Animagus simply to spin and twirl in the air in my excitement on the way to the Room of Requirement.

Harry had been almost excited to slip away at lunch the next day given his fight with Ron about his name getting put in the goblet. He'd hoped to be anywhere but in the gazes of the other houses who were actively muttering and grumbling under their breaths. He silently wondered if this was anything like what Sven had to deal with, and given how tired he was already, he questioned how Sven handled it.

When he got up to the seventh floor like Sven asked though; he was rather surprised to see just Luna standing there in wait.

"Hey, Luna. Where's Sven?"

She hummed, digging through her pockets before handing him a piece of parchment. "He told me to give you this. He's in the infirmary."

"What!" Hermione yelped as Harry opened the letter.

Harry

Apologies. I'm in the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey will not let me leave.

She thinks I will take off the cast.

I will.

But I cannot meet today.

We need to reschedule.

Maybe in three days.

Sven

Harry shook his head but looked over at Luna as she twirled a strand of hair. "What happened, Luna?"

Luna tipped her head. "You didn't hear? A big fight with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Sven says the Slytherins cornered him in a hall. They wanted to know how he snuck his name into the goblet." She waved a hand as though swatting at something in the sky. "He wouldn't though. He doesn't like fighting. Not really."

Harry knew that much, having seen the boy's displeased expression when his name had been called and how he acted when facing others in the Slytherin house.

"They went to fight him and before they could some Hufflepuffs came and started a fight about Cedric Diggory not having a chance because of him. The Slytherins were gloating about it apparently."

That explains why they were glaring at me in Herbology. "What then?"

"He isn't sure. He was having trouble with his condition," she said, surprising them that she knew as she pointed to one of her teeth. "He remembers defending himself and getting away but then something hit him, he thought. He woke up with Professor Moody checking on him."

Harry grimaced, remembering what Sven said to him the previous evening about Moody causing him trouble. "I'll bet he didn't like that. He doesn't like Professor Moody," he explained to Hermione. "Says he's getting picked on in class like what Snape does with me but worse. He thinks Moody is someone who's been attacking him in the halls lately."

"But Professor Moody is—"

"He is needlessly cruel to Sven," Luna declared. "It is why I took Sven to Dumbledore to stop it. Sven is kind and does not know when he is being wronged."

Hermione couldn't argue with that. "So, is Sven okay?"

"He has three cracked ribs and a broken wrist," Luna mused. "He believes he was hit by an exploding spell. Not one that the others who were fighting used."

"He thinks Moody attacked him?" Harry questioned as Luna hummed in agreement.

"But why would Professor Moody be trying to hurt Sven?" Hermione questioned and Luna shrugged, not knowing herself.

"Sven said he would find you at lunch when he gets out of the infirmary," she informed them instead before saying her goodbyes and drifting off to do something else.

The next few days, Harry only began to feel even more sympathetic for Sven. The boy finally made it out of the infirmary and set up a day for them to meet at lunch only to end up in Snape's office after he and Malfoy got into a fight. Moody had apparently been there for that and dragged both boys off to Snape. Harry was starting to agree with Sven though. It seemed too much of a coincidence that every time something happened to Sven in the hall Moody was around. Harry didn't get a chance to see him again until it came time for him to get out of his double potions class for champion photographs.

Sven looked the least pleased to be there, though Harry thought he looked a bit pale. Or, well, paler than usual. The other champions were in there too. Krum was standing in a corner, not really talking to anyone other than an occasional mutter to Sven. Fleur looked rather pleased too and would do much the same, exchanging idle conversation with Sven in French and tossing her head back so her silvery hair caught the light. The cameraman was eyeing her as most men did and Bagman was chatting with a witch in magenta robes until he spotted Harry and rushed for him.

"Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come. Nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment."

"Wand weighing?" Harry questioned as the comment seemed to get Sven's attention too—the boy tipping his head and drawing nearer to Harry.

"What is wand weighing?"

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," Bagman explained, though only giving Sven a brief glance before turning back to Harry. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he said, gesturing to the witch he'd been speaking with. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet."

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," the woman remarked, eyes fixated on Harry. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?"

"Certainly! That is, if Harry has no objection?"

"Uh—"

"Lovely," Rita said, grabbing Harry by the arm only for a pale hand to grab her wrist and stop her.

"He didn't agree," Sven said shortly, frowning at the woman who hadn't let Harry go and she gave him a strained smile.

"I'm sure Harry would be thrilled to—"

"He didn't agree," Sven repeated, tightening his grip apparently as the woman winced and let Harry go. "Forcing people to do things isn't right."

"Now, kid. Sven, wasn't it?" Bagman started with an awkward smile. "She just wanted to do an interview for the paper."

Sven let her go but was still frowning and keeping himself between Harry and the witch. "One he didn't agree to."

Seeing the potential argument or fight brewing, Harry held up his hands.

"Sorry, but I… I don't feel comfortable—"

"Nonsense. You're just saying that. Anyone would want—"

Sven stepped towards Bagman threateningly. "He said no."

The man's smile faltered somewhat just as the door opened and Dumbledore stepped in, making Rita scowl briefly before quickly plastering on a smile.

"Dumbledore! How are you?" She bit out, holding out a hand "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," Dumbledore smiled. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita was hardly phased. "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore and that many wizards in the street—"

"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if you are upsetting one of the champions. Sven is rather sensitive."

Sven wasn't exactly sensitive, but Harry knew what Dumbledore was getting at. Sven was a rather strange mixture of the houses if he was being honest. Smart like a Ravenclaw, loyal like a Hufflepuff, cunning like a Slytherin, and protective of his friends like a Gryffindor. It made Harry wonder why the hat chose to put him with the snakes instead of somewhere where he could actually make friends without being tormented or sneered at.

Still, one look at Sven had Rita frowning and backing off as the two went to sit at the table with the other champions and judges. As she got her things out to write her article, Dumbledore introduced a familiar face.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander? He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry was stunned to see the older man from the shop standing near a window. Sven too looked mildly tense before seeming to shake off his raised shoulders to relax again once more. When did he enter the room? Harry wondered as Ollivander stepped into the middle of the room.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?"

She swiftly slipped over and handed her wand, getting a hum from the man before he twirled it and it released pink and gold sparks.

"Yes. Nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me."

"A 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur mused. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes. Yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands. However, to each his own, and if this suits you…" He searched the wand for nicks or scratches before muttering a spell that produced flowers from the end of it. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order."

The flowers were handed over to Fleur with her wand before he chose the next person. "Mr. Rydell, you next."

Sven looked mildly reluctant, but stood and approached, drawing his own wand and handing it over. Harry realized something when he did, given how easily he gave up the wand but how hesitantly he stood. He's not nervous about his wand, but about Ollivander. He's a bit strange but…

"Ah, yes. I remember. The heirloom from the New World," Ollivander hummed, running his fingers over it. "Hazelwood with a feather from a Thunderbird as its core. Ten and a half inches and rigid. It's in fine condition. You treat it regularly?"

Harry hadn't expected Sven to take care of his wand much at all, given the boy was prone to doing things without it. Yet, he nodded.

"Taking care of one's tools is important."

Ollivander hummed with a smile, as though something about that response was interesting to him. "Yes. You're very practical, aren't you?"

He flicked the wand and a ring of smoke lightly floated away from it, satisfying him before he asked for Krum's. His wand was handled much the same and when Harry's was examined, it only took a moment longer than the others before it was handed back.

"Thank you all," Dumbledore said as he stood. "You may go back to your lessons now. Or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner as they are about to end."

Sven looked as relieved as Harry at the opportunity to leave, only for the cameraman to jump up and clear his throat, getting Bagman's attention.

"Photo's, Dumbledore. Photos! All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er—Yes, let's do those first and then perhaps some individual shots."

Harry shivered at her gaze but relaxed when Sven stepped up beside him and glared at the woman, whose smile faltered. Harry never felt more relieved to have Sven around at that moment as they settled for taking photographs with everyone. Harry was even more pleased when Sven continued to keep him half-hidden in the back of the photo. Rita was determined to try and put him into a more obvious spot, but between Sven and the cameraman (who kept Fleur in the front), he was saved from the embarrassment.

He wasn't saved by the other individual shots but there was no helping it and eventually, they were finally all free to go. When the damn article finally came out, Rita had obviously made everything in it up, given her lack of interview. There'd been no mention of Sven at all and the other champions had their names misspelled and crammed into a small paragraph of mention. Harry expected some backlash from people yet it seemed he'd have to thank Sven.

Rumor had gotten around that any mention of the article landed a student in the infirmary sporting a brand new pair of ears on the top of their head of various forms, from rabbit ears to antlers to cat ears. And those were the lucky ones. A group of Slytherins spouting particularly nasty things were hung upside-down by their ankles, restrained, dyed a startling shade of bright purple, lost all their hair, smelled like a thousand dung bombs went off, and had to see Madam Pomfrey for their new whiskers and rat tails.

Sven was pulling no punches. Any and all who came after Harry would regret it, and Harry couldn't be happier.