"Harry Potter."

Audible groans could be heard quietly around the table... and, if Draco wasn't mistaken, around the entire Great Hall. There were a few gasps of surprise, but having attended school with Harry Potter, no one was that surprised. Draco should have known Potter's name would show up. No way Potter could miss another opportunity to show off. The tosser won't even go up there, he has to pretend he's innocent.

Crabbe leaned over into Draco's personal space. "What's going on?"

Goyle peered around Crabbe. "Yeah, why did they just call for Potter?" he asked.

"I guess we're supporting Diggory," Blaise said with a sigh that wasn't quite marked with defeat, but nowhere near content or happy.

"It means Goyle, that Potter has broken the rules. Again." Pansy explained slowly with an expression of distaste at the venom-soaked words she was saying. Or to those she was saying it to. While Pansy had relaxed and let down some of her spiked walls, that did not extend toward Crabbe and Goyle. He did not expect her to ever forgive them and see them as anything but intolerable bogey-covered maggots. He could not blame her. If he could fully extract himself from their presence, he would.

Even if Pansy had not been Draco's close friend, he didn't think she would ever have liked Potter. Certainly not after she heard what he said about her looks. Had he not wounded her pride unnecessarily, the standard infatuation most, if not all, of the wizarding world held for Potter could have developed into a crush panged with longing and desire. Pansy was quite fickle when it came to her pride, not that Draco would ever fault that. Being somewhat shallow was a self-preservation tactic and hating nearly everybody was a philosophy that worked.

Though had Potter accepted his hand their first year, he would probably feel differently. His parents and extended family had told him for years that Malfoys were coveted by the wizarding world as the best and most noble house, especially after his parents wed and the Black familial line was merged with the Malfoy one. He remembered hearing his father ridicule families like the Weasleys for how they behaved and presented themselves having once been a great house. His father's friends would chime in about them having tainted blood or being blood traitors was the cause of it and how they brought down the entire wizarding world. He had seen his father, his friends, and other families treat those families like sewage-drenched ground. Yet, having a famous boy wizard turn him down for the likes of one of those families? AND to go and befriend a mud-Muggleborn?

Draco scowled down at the table, unable to even think the word let alone say it. When did it all become so complicated? Gods, he hated Hermione Granger and thought her beneath him, but… she was a conundrum. Besting him in every subject and having the nerve, the audacity to not have actual, literal mud in her veins; she bled red just like him. He hated her when he took the time to notice her existence that is and even then that was to rile up Potter and Weasley.

So what, he didn't want Muggleborns to actually die second year. He didn't really want anyone he knew, or knew of, to die. He had not planned on slipping Granger the page he snagged from the book; he only ripped it out of the book so his father wouldn't know Draco had been listening at doors. His father hated eavesdroppers.

He could not have risked looking into it at home so his only choice was to find it elsewhere. Ripping out the page had been slightly impulsive, but he had not had time to read it all and an opportunity to confront Potter and Weasley could not be wasted- he was never one to turn down an opportunity to taunt Potter, especially after the gross display with Lockhart.

He shoved the page in his pocket and almost forgot about it.

And so what, he folded it into an enchanted paper bird and sent it soaring through the library to jab Granger in the nose.

What of it? Based on what he was taught as a child it was a miracle she could even read the page. He wasn't sure as to whether or not Muggleborns stole their magic though. That remained to be seen since even world-renowned wizard Lockhart stole. While not magic exactly, it did pave the way for the theory to take hold. He did his best to keep his distance just in case.

Draco thought she was going to steal his magic last year when she ended up just hitting him. Had he not been terrified of being reduced to nothing more than a common, lowly squib, he would have surely hit her back. Etiquette be damned. His father surely would have understood that violence directed at women was reserved for women not surrounded by filth. His mother on the other hand…

He did have to admit that he was quite happy his mother was taking the more prominent role in his academic life. His father did get a bit carried away the previous year and needed to be, well, reined in a bit. Most thought his father to be the strategic genius who could lure even the best of them into his traps; however, Draco was quite sure it was his mother who was the real strategist. She did not show it, ever the doting mother and societal wife, but Draco witnessed her careful pulling of strings in those social settings. Whether they knew it or not, they were doing what Narcissa Malfoy wanted even if they thought it was their idea.

Draco knew Dumbledore was going to eat it all up. Potter, the boy who lived. Lived to make Draco sick, more like. Draco smirked at the silence. No roar of cheers, clapping, or congratulations. This room had never been this still. Perhaps Hogwarts was finally getting wise. Doubtful, but Draco was thankful for the reprieve from the status quo.

They could hear Potter speaking to Weasley and Granger stating he didn't do it. What a joke. Draco had to give Weasley credit, he appeared to see through Potter this time. Weasley's face was a few shades darker than his hair. Pansy was laughing to his right about that very thing.

At the high table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"At least there's the possibility Potter could die in the tournament, right?" Draco said, earning some laughs.

"It has happened before," Blaise said with a wide grin.

"Three schools means three champions, there is no way anyone else could be allowed to compete." Theo reasoned.

"This has to mean he won't be allowed," Pansy said.

"All that rule-breaking had to catch up with him sometime," Blaise concluded.

Potter vanished from sight but Draco paid that no mind as he imagined Potter being forced to leave the school. He imagined several scenarios, his favorite involved Filtch throwing Potter's trunk into the snow and it bursting open while Weasley had to be restrained only to earn expulsion himself for hitting a teacher.

Draco was so enraptured in this daydream of Potter being booted from the competition, the school, and the wizarding world that he did not notice the room glow blue again.

Gasps broke out. The Goblet of Fire was alight once more. He could hear the hall erupt in shouts, but did not really care. As Blaise had already said, they would be rooting for Diggory so what was the point in getting angry? His daydream was far more productive.

"That's not possible!"

"Blimey!"

"Defective that is!"

"That's rubbish!"

He was thinking about the look on Potter's face after being thrown out on his arse when an elbow was jammed into his ribs.

"Merlin!" Draco cried out. "What's your problem, Pansy?" Draco asked, turning to look at her. She was not looking at him nor was she paying attention to him. Her eyes were comically wide staring toward the front of the room. Draco turned quickly, hoping he had not missed an announcement about Potter's expulsion from school for obvious cheating. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the eyes of everyone in the room were fixed upon him. He looked to Pansy and his friends.

"What's happened?"

"The goblet gave another name," Blaise answered.

"Yeah," Draco said slowly, replicating her tone from earlier when she spoke with Goyle, "I know, Potter's."

"No, Draco," Theo said. "Another one."

Overcome with dread. His palms were sweating. Draco asked, "Whose?"

"Yours, Draco," Pansy whispered, looked terrified. An expression Draco had hoped he would not see this school term. Yet, the emotion, in one of its forms, was etched across her face.

"Draco Malfoy!" Dumbledore called, his voice losing that serene softness everyone else seemed to like about the old wizard. Beside him, the goblet went out.

The room became a vacuum. They had to be mistaken. Draco could not hear anything as he was pushed to stand by Crabbe and Goyle. His hearing returned as the applause from the Slytherin table broke out. It seemed his housemates were not perplexed or questioning what was happening, they were thrilled that a Slytherin was chosen.

"Yeah, Draco! Takedown that prat!"

"How did you do it, Draco?"

Draco's mind was filled with questions. Why had his name been called? What was going on? His body moved on its own toward the head table. Snape was swiftly at his side, a vulture ready to feast in the carnage of Potter only to be faced with this situation. Talons drove into Draco's shoulder either to prevent him from running or to inform Draco of his displeasure. The narrow, bony fingers pressed into his skin and pulled him roughly. He was being escorted to where the other champions went.

High pitched ringing filled his ears, louder with each step closer to the other champions. When had he started to think of himself as one? It was wrong, that is all Draco could think. He dug his heels into the flagstone and resisted, pushing back against Snape. He had to get away. He had to be anywhere but here.

Snape did not respond in words nor action. He simply continued to guide Draco, somewhat roughly, to the room.

Ludo Bagman and the champions were in the midst of a conversation when Draco, unceremoniously dragged at this point, came into view.

"It appears, Mr. Bagman, that we have another champion." Draco was going to be sick. Horror. That is all Draco knew. Absolute horror. There was no way. He did not put his name into the Goblet of Fire.