A/N As usual, big thanks to everybody at DLP – TheIllusiveOne, QuaziJoe, ip82, bizzle, Palver, ChuckDaTruck, LT2000, Lord Apophis, carnivalofcarnage, Wizard Giller, jbern, Fuegodefuerza, and Lord Xantam – for their helpful comments on the chapter, which turn out to be quite a beast at over 16k words. Anyways, enjoy.

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"I can't believe they didn't catch any of them," Row said disgustedly, tossing her morning copy of The Daily Prophet on the table.

"The mob was too big," Sirius replied sadly. "By the time we cleared most of them away, the Death Eaters had disapparated."

"What about the Dark Mark?"

Sirius frowned. "The mark was sent up from the woods outside the camping area. Nobody knows who did it, but it wasn't the Death Eaters we saw."

"It doesn't make any sense," Harry muttered. "It wasn't even a real attack."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Most of the aurors agree with you, Harry. They said it was likely just a bit of sport for some former Death Eaters. It probably didn't have anything to do with your dream, like Professor Dumbledore said."

"What happened to the muggles?" Row asked hesitantly.

"They're all ok, luckily. Their memories were modified to make them think it was all just a casual disturbance."

"That doesn't change the problem," Harry pointed out. "There were a lot more than just the Death Eaters in the mob."

"Death Eater sympathizers," Sirius spat disgustedly, "looking for some muggle baiting. There are a significant number of them, I'm ashamed to say."

Harry and Row thought about that for a moment before Sirius changed the subject.

"But enough about that," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Do you have everything you need for the school year?"

Harry nodded mutely and pointed to his trunk.

"That's right, I'd forgotten you had those," Sirius said sheepishly. "Will you ever need to go school shopping again?"

Jack snorted. "I doubt it, Harry's probably already bought a copy of every book in store."

Row chuckled. "That's only funny because I think he actually has."

"I still don't understand why you don't ask Dumbledore for more advanced classes, Harry," said Sirius, shaking his head. "I'm sure he'd be happy to oblige."

"Oh, give it a rest, Sirius," Jack said dismissively. "Only nerds take advanced classes, and Harry hardly needs them."

"How do you know?" Sirius asked skeptically.

Jack shot a look at Harry, who sighed. "Look, I just like to keep a low profile, that's all. I don't want to do anything that makes me stand out, and the truth is, I really don't think advanced classes would teach me that much."

"But Harry-"

"No buts. I'd really like it if you didn't tell anyone that I'm ahead of my classmates, either." At Sirius's sheepish expression, Harry groaned. "You already did, didn't you?"

"I may have mentioned something to Remus," Sirius said slowly. "I didn't mean to, it just kind of slipped out."

"So really what you're saying is that the teaching staff already knows," Harry sighed. "Just bloody perfect."

"Maybe Remus didn't tell anyone," Sirius said hopefully. Three very sarcastic looks told him how likely that scenario was. Finally he sighed. "I'm just proud of you, Harry, that's all. I know you don't like everyone knowing your business, but you've got all these great talents, and I feel like everybody should know it."

"That's a pretty good excuse," Jack remarked.

Harry just grunted noncommittally and wondered if the headmaster would confront him about taking advanced lessons.

"So, only one week of vacation left," Sirius said, trying to change the subject. "Anybody want to do something special?"

As it turned out, Row did have something special in mind, and the family minus Jack spent the majority of the next week touring some of the magical sites in Ireland. Although Sirius couldn't quite muster up the same enthusiasm as Row, he had come to see the young girl as a surrogate daughter, and found that her excitement was contagious. Harry was even able to pick up a few new books that he had never seen before at a rare book store in a remote magical community, so the trip was a success for him as well.

When September 1st finally rolled around, Sirius insisted on escorting Harry and Row all the way to the train, despite their assurances it wasn't necessary. Harry still didn't understand why they couldn't simply floo to the Three Broomsticks and walk, but had long abandoned arguing the point.

"Well, I guess this is it," Harry said when they arrived on the platform.

"For now," Sirius said mysteriously. Harry looked at him closely and saw that he was obviously excited about something.

"What did you do, Sirius?"

"Me? Nothing!" He said innocently. "I'll see you kids soon."

"You mean Christmas?" Row asked, confused.

"I'll see you soon," Sirius repeated, grinning as he stepped back into the crowd.

"What was that about?" Row asked when he had gone.

"He's got something planned, but I don't know what," Harry replied. "It sounds like he's going to be at Hogwarts, so maybe Dumbledore gave him a job? I don't know." He shrugged and the two made their way onto the train and found a compartment with Hermione and Padma.

Harry spent most of his time on the train listening to Row and her friends talk about their summers, but eventually grew tired and decided to find Blaise and Tracey. He found them in a compartment with Theodore Nott and let himself in.

"What happened Potter?" Blaise said as he entered. "Get tired of all the hero worship?"

Tracey elbowed him in the ribs before smiling at Harry.

"Hi, Harry. How was your summer?"

"Pretty good, actually," Harry admitted.

"Sorry I missed the World Cup, although considering what happened maybe I shouldn't be."

Harry scowled as he remembered the masked Death Eaters, and he noticed that Nott seemed to become very interested in the passing countryside. He risked a feather-light legilimency probe, but withdrew it when he encountered slight resistance. Still, judging by the boy's reaction, someone he knew had been a part of that attack.

"Bah, nobody got hurt," Blaise said dismissively. "It wasn't even a real attack, just a few old Death Eaters out for a laugh. Did you see what happened when somebody sent up the Dark Mark?" He smirked. "They ran faster than the rest of us did!"

"I'll bet it was scary, though," Tracey said haltingly. "I heard they were blasting people's tents with them still inside."

"Well, like I said, nobody got hurt," Blaise replied evenly. "It just goes to show, firewhisky isn't always a wizard's best friend. Although apparently Cedric Diggory would disagree." Harry cracked a rueful grin at that.

Tracey looked confused as opened her mouth to say something when the door to the compartment opened and Blaise's lazy demeanor changed and he became suddenly alert. Turning slightly, Harry saw the reason as Daphne Greengrass poked her head into the compartment hesitantly.

"Uh, Harry?" She said quietly. "Can I talk to you a minute?" Blaise guffawed loudly and Tracey and Nott shot him confused looks.

"Watch out, Potter, she's probably got a love potion on her right now," Blaise called as Harry got up. Daphne's gaze snapped back to Blaise and Harry saw a strange gleam in her eye for a moment, but it quickly vanished and was replaced by a hurt look.

"Why would you say something like that?" She asked. She shook her head sadly and withdrew into the hallway as Harry followed.

"What is it?" Harry asked, eyeing Daphne warily.

"Well, I never really got a chance to thank you in person," Daphne began uncertainly. "I ran into your brother Jack this summer at a party, I'm not sure if he told you…"

Harry's brow furrowed. "No, he didn't."

Good. "Well, I think he was pretty drunk, so maybe he doesn't remember," Daphne said quickly. "Anyway, I wanted to say thanks again, in person this time, but that's not the only reason I wanted to talk to you." She took a deep breath and seemed visibly nervous, which wasn't entirely an act. "I don't know if you know this, but Malfoy is Professor Snape's godson, and Snape told him something over the summer, something about you. He says that Dumbledore told Snape that you ran away from your muggle relatives because they were abusing you really bad, and now he's planning to spread it through the whole school. I just, well… I just thought you should know."

Daphne studied Harry carefully for his reaction, but what she saw wasn't at all what she'd expected. She had thought he would be angry, ashamed maybe, and definitely upset. Instead he seemed to scowl for a moment and appeared deep in thought. Suddenly his eyes widened slightly and Daphne was surprised to see an expression she had never seen on Harry Potter: fear.

"Did he say anything else, Daphne?" Harry asked. "Anything at all?"

What is he so afraid that Malfoy knows? Daphne wondered to herself.

"No, that's all I heard," she finally answered.

Harry seemed to relax slightly at her answer, but it was clear to Daphne that something was bothering him.

"Thanks for telling me, Daphne," Harry said, still thinking. "Do you know if he's already started telling people, or is he planning some big announcement?"

"I think he's already started," Daphne answered. "You know, I actually have some friends in other houses that I could talk to, if you want. I could tell them it's just another attempt by Malfoy to make you look bad."

Harry eyed her shrewdly. "Actually, that would be great," he said slowly.

"Ok, I'll start right away," Daphne said, nodding. She started to turn away but stopped suddenly. "Look, I know Zabini doesn't trust me, and I've definitely been nasty to you before, but I'm not a bad person, Harry. I just..." She sighed. "I'm supposed to act a certain way, and be friends with certain people, you know what I mean? Sometimes I have to be mean, but that's not really me. I hope you can understand that." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and made her way back up the train. Mind racing, Harry opened the door to his compartment and sat back down.

"Well?" Blaise asked impatiently. "What'd she say?"

Harry considered his friend for a moment before turning to Nott. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Nott?" Nott looked like he was about to protest, but thought better of it at the last moment and grudgingly walked out of the compartment.

"Well, according to Daphne, Malfoy didn't learn his lesson last time, and is trying to start more rumors about me. This time he's saying that I ran away when I was younger because I was being severely abused by my relatives. Supposedly he heard about it from Snape."

"Is it true?" Blaise asked, eyeing Harry shrewdly.

"It's not like I was tortured," Harry lied. "They hated me, sure, and they certainly didn't try to hide it, but it really wasn't that bad."

"Why would Snape tell Malfoy about it then?" Blaise asked skeptically.

"Maybe Dumbledore said something?" Questioned Tracy.

"There's nothing to tell, though," Harry pointed out. "So either Snape of Malfoy must have made it up." Unless Dumbledore paid a visit to Petunia and found the block I placed on her. Harry thought to himself. This could be really bad.

"So now Malfoy will spread this around to make you look weak and ruin your reputation," Tracey said knowingly.

"I don't really care about my reputation," Harry replied absently.

"What's wrong then?" Blaise asked, studying Harry closely. "Something has you upset about this, so what is it?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing. I can deal with Malfoy. How big a deal do you think this will be? I'd really like to keep this from being blown out of proportion, if possible."

"Well, you can bet he'll play up the fact that they were muggles," Blaise said, still looking at Harry skeptically. "It depends on how big a deal he wants to make it, and knowing Malfoy, it'll be pretty big."

Harry had to agree, and if the Daily Prophet printed the story, it was possible that Petunia would receive a visit from the aurors, and nothing good could possibly come from that.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Tracey said wisely. "So I guess we wait."

Harry and Blaise only nodded and the three settled into an uncomfortable silence.

It didn't take long for Malfoy's rumor to make its way to their compartment, and before long Harry was once again noticing an unusually large number of people milling around in the hallway and sighed heavily. He hoped Daphne was serious about talking to people on his behalf, otherwise he was going to have to do something drastic.

When the train finally arrived at Hogsmede station, Harry disembarked and forced himself to ignore the whispering that was going on around him until they had made it all the way to the castle and he was sitting in his usual place at the Slytherin table. There, the whispers were quite a big louder.

"So, the great Harry Potter got beat by the big bad muggles?" Came the sneering voice of Pansy Parkinson. "Oh, what a poor wittle baby!" Some of the students around her looked at Harry mockingly, but stopped when he let out a bark of laughter.

"Tell me Parkinson, even if it were true, do you think that makes me less dangerous now, or more dangerous? In fact," he said, glaring at her coldly. "If you've forgotten what happens when you make me mad, I'd be happy to remind you. Who knows," he shrugged before switching to parseltongue. --you might even enjoy it.--

That shut her up rather quickly, and brought a scowl to Malfoy's face.

The hall was silent as the new first years entered slowly and were sorted, after which food appeared and the hall was overcome with chatter once more. Although it seemed that Harry's little reminder had stopped most of the whispering and pointing at the Slytherin table, the same could not be said of the rest of the tables in the Great Hall. Surprisingly, it seemed that Malfoy was getting just as many looks as Harry himself was, and they were far from friendly. As Harry surveyed the mass of students, Cedric Diggory caught his eye and gave him a questioning look, to which Harry mouthed 'later.' Nodding, Cedric returned to his food.

When most people were finished eating, Dumbledore stood up to make his start of term announcements. Just as he was about to announce the tournament, the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open, causing Harry to instinctively whirl around in his seat to face the newcomer.

Standing in the archway was a man dressed in a long, dripping cloak leaning heavily on a large wooden staff. The man paused for a moment before removing the hood obscuring his face and began walking slowly toward the head table. He moved with a heavy limp and every other step was punctuated by a loud thunk, but the students hardly noticed; they were looking at his face.

The man was so disfigured that his features could barely be called human. His entire face was covered in various scars, some crisscrossing over each other to form even larger and uglier patches of twisted skin. Yet even with all of that, it was his eyes that made the students shudder. While one was small and beady, the other was a large, electric blue sphere that spun wildly and seemed to be looking everywhere at once. Harry noticed that several of his housemates were looking at the newcomer in obvious fear, and turned to Blaise with a questioning look.

"That's Mad-Eye Moody," Blaise whispered to him. Harry was surprised at his friends unease, having never seen Blaise anything but composed. "He's supposedly crazy now, but he used to be the best auror in the Ministry. They say that half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him."

That would explain the scars, Harry thought absently, looking back at the grizzled former auror. What it didn't explain was what he was doing in the Great Hall.

"Ah, just in time," Dumbledore said, nodding at Moody. "May I present our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody."

The hall way once again overcome with whispers, which seemed to spur Moody's magical eye into overdrive as it spun around in its socket.

"Now, as I was saying," Dumbledore continued as Moody took a standing position next to the head table. "There will be no Quidditch this year, as Hogwarts has been chosen to host a very exciting event that has not been held in over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

As expected, the majority of the student body was surprised and immediately began to chatter excitedly amongst themselves. Dumbledore went on to briefly describe the history of the tournament and talk about when the other delegates were arriving, but Harry was only half listening. Instead, he was gazing incredulously at the large black dog that had come out of the antechamber and was currently sitting beside Professor McGonagall. When Dumbledore had finished talking about the tournament, he held up his hands for silence.

"Now, while not as exciting as the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I do have a few other changes to announce. First, Professor Snape has decided to devote more of his time to research, and as such will no longer be teaching first through fifth year potions." The Gryffindor table burst into applause. "He will, however, remain the head of Slytherin house and continue to teach the NEWT classes. As such, it is my pleasure to introduce Professor Moor, who will taking over potions for first through fifth year students." A tall, slender woman that Harry didn't recognize stood at the far end of the table and gave a smile and a polite wave. At first glance she appeared to be in her late twenties, with medium length brown hair and friendly brown eyes. Overall, she looked quite ordinary, and Harry turned his attention back to Dumbledore.

"Also, for all of you that have dreams of becoming animagi, I am happy to announce that Professor McGonagall has agreed to take on an assistant to teach an optional transfiguration course on the subject. May I present Assistant Professor Sirius Black!"

With a loud bark, the dog that Harry had been watching jumped over the head table before transforming back into a smiling Sirius Black. He shot a wink at Harry before taking an exaggerated bow, much to the student body's delight.

"Thank you, Professor Black," Dumbledore said, chuckling. Sirius smiled sheepishly and took a seat next to Professor McGonagall. "Now, it is already late, and your common rooms beckon. I bid you all good night."

As the students filed out of the Great Hall, Harry slipped away from the Slytherin table and approached his godfather.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked when he was within earshot.

"What, and ruin the surprise?" Sirius replied, grinning. "You should have seen your face when I came out as Padfoot. I guess I'm just lucky that dogs can't laugh." He chuckled again. "So, gonna take my class? I made Dumbledore agree to take fourth years and up."

"Sure," Harry replied. Although becoming an animagus was something he'd been interested in before, he had never considered it a priority. However, with his own godfather teaching the subject he saw no reason not to explore the possibility.

Sirius's face lit up at his reply. "It'll be fun, I promise," he said excitedly. "We learned loads about what not to do the last time. I'll bet we can get you transform before the end of the year!"

Harry shook his head, amused at his godfather's childlike excitement, and promised to be in attendance for the first class before heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Walking into the common room, he spied a worried looking Tracey sitting with Blaise, who was looking very annoyed. The reason became apparent when Harry saw that Daphne Greengrass was sitting on a nearby sofa, lounging casually. Tracey looked up as Harry entered and exhaled heavily.

"Ok, he's here now," She said to the other two. "You can stop giving each other death glares."

"What took you so long, Potter?" Blaise said, pulling his gaze away from Daphne.

"Sirius neglected to mention that he would be teaching at Hogwarts this year, actually," Harry replied, taking a seat in a nearby armchair. "I wanted to talk to him for a minute."

"Good thing you got here when you did, I think Zabini was about to hex me," Daphne said, smirking at Blaise.

"You were waiting for me?"

Daphne nodded. "I just wanted to tell you that I spoke to my friends in the other houses, and given Malfoy's track record, I don't think you have to worry about anything. If anything, it's Malfoy who should be worried."

"That sure was nice of you," Blaise said sarcastically.

"Oh, it was no trouble," Daphne answered, deliberately ignoring the sarcasm. "You're welcome."

Blaise's eyes narrowed. "Oh, come off it," he snapped before turning to Harry. "What did she ask you for in return?"

Harry shook his head. "You won't believe me, but she didn't ask for anything."

"You're right, I don't believe you," Blaise snorted.

"Look Zabini," Daphne said patiently. "I know you don't like me or my family, and maybe there's nothing I can do about that, but that doesn't mean I can't try." She paused for a moment and her gaze flickered to Tracey. "You might find this hard to believe, but I actually admire the two of you. You stayed away from Malfoy's circle without making him an enemy, and that's impressive."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" Blaise asked incredulously. "Whatever you're trying, it won't work, you know."

"I just want a chance," Daphne replied patiently. "I stuck with Malfoy out of self-preservation, even you have to admit that much. Harry changed that, so I don't have to hang around him anymore. Besides, it's only natural for people to be replaced when someone better comes along." She was looking at Harry, but threw a quick look at Blaise as she said the last part.

Blaise growled in response and Harry looked at him in astonishment. He'd never seen his cool-mannered friend quite that upset, especially over such a strange and innocuous comment. Harry looked back at Daphne curiously and wondered, not for the first time, what could have possibly happened between them to inspire such enmity.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Daphne said finally. "Goodnight." With one last slightly mocking look at Blaise, she turned and walked slowly toward the girls dorms.

"You really hate her, don't you?" Harry asked when she had gone.

"Yes, I do," Blaise said, regaining his composure.

"You don't think there's a chance she's telling the truth?" Tracey asked hesitantly. "I know she's never been big on the truth before, but what she said makes sense."

Blaise gave Tracey a patronizing look. "Tracey, do you remember what you said about Malfoy the first time you met him? I believe your exact words were, 'I believe him, and I think he's kinda nice.' Sound familiar?"

Tracey's only response was an embarrassed flush.

"Look, we've been over this," Harry interrupted. "If she's sincere, great. If not," he shrugged. "Oh well. Either way, I'm not planning the rest of my life around Daphne Greengrass." Tracey giggled and even Blaise looked slightly mollified. "Now," Harry continued. "The real question is whether or not you two are going to take the animagus class with me, since it's open to 4th year and up."

The group spent some time talking about Sirius's class and some other random school topics before Harry finally excused himself and made his way up to the dorm. As opposed to the previous year, when Harry had been unable to create a proper ward, this time he was able to erect a basic shield ward around the outside of his bed. That done, he sealed the curtains all around and set an alarm to alert him if any spells hit his ward. Since he'd sealed the curtains magically, no one would be able to open them without a spell, and no spell could hit the actual curtains while the shield ward was in place. It wasn't Fort Knox, but it should certainly be enough to stop Draco Malfoy, and this way, Harry wouldn't be awoken every time a passing student tripped one of his proximity charms. Surveying his work, he felt a surge of pride for a job well done before promptly settling in for a good night's sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning and made his way down for his usual early breakfast. When he was finished, he saw Cedric Diggory walking into the Great Hall and got up to meet him.

"Hey, Cedric," he called as the older boy started towards his house table.

"Oh, hey Harry," Cedric said, turning around. "What's up?"

"It looked like you wanted to say something last night at dinner," Harry replied, edging away from the house tables.

Cedric frowned. "Yeah, there were some more rumors flying around about you, did you hear?" Harry nodded. "Well, I was going to talk to you about them, but then a couple of girls in my house, Susan Bones and Jessica Sanders, they starting saying that it was just another rumor started by Malfoy to make you look bad, and that we shouldn't fall for the same thing twice. I figured that was true, but still thought you should know."

"I appreciate that," Harry said honestly. "I heard about it on the train, and I was worried everyone would just assume the worst like last time."

"Well, they probably would have, but somehow Bones and Sanders found out that it was Malfoy, and once that got out, well" Cedric shrugged. "His credibility is pretty much shot after what he tried to pull last year."

"As it should be," Harry muttered to himself.

"That's true," Cedric agreed. "Well, if anybody else asks, I'll tell them the real story. I'll see you later."

Harry just nodded and Cedric joined his housemates at the Hufflepuff table.

Looks like Daphne came though, Harry mused. It was still too early for class so he made his way to the library.

As expected, Harry's first day of class was rather boring, since most teachers spent the time reviewing material that he had learned before he even came to Hogwarts. One notable exception to that was potions, where Professor Moor started the class on new material immediately, stressing the importance of proper discipline in the art of potion making. Still, despite her obvious zeal for the subject, Harry had to admit that her patient and detailed instructions were a welcome change from what had passed for teaching under Snape.

The rest of his first week classes were review as well with the exception of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry didn't have Moody's class until Wednesday, by which time every all the 4th years had heard enough rumors about the former auror to be both very excited and very nervous about his class.

Harry walked into the Defense classroom with Blaise and Tracey only to find that all the seats closest to the front were already filled with Gryffindors.

"Look at them," Blaise snorted. "I'll bet they lined up outside." Tracey giggled as she took a seat next to him. Harry spotted Hermione sitting alone and moved to sit next to her. He was about to ask her a question when he Moody entered and walked slowly to the front of the room, his wooden leg echoing loudly with each step. When he reached the front he picked up a piece of parchment and began to read out names in alphabetical order.

"Well, straight to it then," Moody said when he had finished calling role. "According to your last professor, you've done a good deal of work with dark creatures, but are practically ignorant when it comes to curses. So," he began to walk towards the shelves behind his desk. "I'm here to make sure you know what wizards can do to each other. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you the countercurses and leave it at that." Moody grabbed a large glass bottle and walked back to the desk with it. "I'm not supposed to show you what illegal dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. They don't think you can handle it until then." His eyes scanned the group of students slowly. "But Dumbledore thinks more highly of you, and I think you need to know what you're up against. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He roared, causing the entire room to jump.

"Now, the worst of all curses are the unforgivables: The Imperious Curse, The Cruciatus Curse, and The Killing Curse," Moody continued. "Who can tell me why we call them unforgivables?"

When no one raises their hand, Moody shook his head. "No one? Well, maybe this will give you an idea." He opened the jar and took out what appeared to be a large spider, which set in the center of his desk.

"Imperio," He muttered, leveling his wand at the creature. Instantly, the spider became rigid before beginning to twist, twirl, and even tap dance, much to the delight of the class. Moody, however, wasn't amused.

"Think it's funny, do you?" He snapped. "What should I make it do next? Jump out the window? Drown itself?" The class immediately quieted and Moody removed the curse before replacing the spider in the glass jar.

"Total control," he spat, resuming his lecture. "That's what the Imperious Curse is. Complete and total domination of another human being. Still think it's funny?" He shook his head angrily. "To successfully cast the Imperious Curse, you must have the desire to dominate, to crush any resistance of free will. It's not enough to just want the control, you have to want a slave," he spat, one eye spinning menacingly. "No conscience, no personality, nothing except what you put there. That's the Imperious curse." He glared at the class as he removed another spider from the jar. "To cast the Imperious, you have to want to destroy someone from the inside out. That's why it's unforgivable."

Moody placed the second spider on the desk and muttered an enlargement charm.

"Now, the second unforgivable. Crucio!" The enlarged spider began to twitch uncontrollably, and Harry was sure that if it had a voice, it would be screaming. Moody held his wand on it for a good ten seconds as it writhed in agony before finally releasing it and replacing it in the jar.

"Pain. Horrible, burning, life altering pain. That is the purpose of the Cruciatus Curse," Moody said menacingly. "Pain to make you give up you friends, your family. Pain to break your spirit, to make you give in, and give up." Moody regarded the class seriously. "To cast the Cruciatus Curse, you have to not only want to cause pain, you have to enjoy it." Next to Harry, Hermione let out a horrified gasp. "Anger, revenge, desire, none of these are enough. The Cruciatus is only successful when the wizard casting can revel in the suffering of the victim. That is why it is unforgivable."

Moody took the last spider out of the jar and the entire room was hit with a sense of impending doom.

"And the last," Moody said, holding the spider in the air. He closed his eyes and looked like he was concentrating heavily on something before he abruptly dropped the spider onto the desk and jabbed his wand at it viciously. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" He roared.

Even as far back as he was, Harry could feel the sheer volume of magic that had gone into the spell, and it made him shudder. It wasn't just the amount of magic, it was how twisted and wrong it felt, as if the spell itself was crying out in pain. There was a bright flash and a loud rushing sound that Harry tried to identify by couldn't. The spider keeled over without a single mark on it, yet was unmistakably dead.

"The Killing Curse," Moody said calmly, brushing the dead spider of the desk. "The most powerful, most pure form of hatred known to wizardkind. It is unblockable, and only one person has ever survived it. And he's sitting in this room." The entire room turned to look at Harry, who looked back calmly. "Of course, the Killing Curse needs a good bit of power behind it as well. It's not enough just to hate something, you have to let that hate consume you, feed you, until there's nothing else in you. It is, quite possibly, the most evil and disgusting feeling possible." Suddenly he stopped pacing and let his magical eye spin in its socket. "But that's what you're up against. To cast the Killing Curse you have to be not only powerful, but so all-consumed with hatred that, at that moment, you are scarcely human. That is why it's unforgivable."

Moody turned and walked slowly back to the center of the room. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that a hand was raised.

"You have a question, Potter?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied. "So, if someone killed a friend of mine, and I wanted to kill him as payback, I wouldn't be able to use the killing curse?"

Moody started at him for a moment before a hideous grin split his features. "Excellent question, Potter. Five points to Slytherin." The rest of the class was still looking at Harry incredulously, amazed that he had the guts to ask the question in the first place. "The answer is, it depends," Moody continued. "The Killing Curse is hate, Potter, pure and simple. If you're thinking about revenge, or justice, or killing someone because they deserve it, the Killing Curse won't work. Sure, you might hurt 'em," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "But to cast a true killing curse, you have to twist your insides until there's nothing left but hate. That's one of the downsides to the Killing Curse; all but the darkest wizards have to gather themselves for a moment before they can cast it. If you're thinking about anything else, it won't work."

Harry thought about that for a moment before he raised his hand again.

"How is it that you are able to cast it then, sir?"

Moody paused for a moment before turning and leveling a piercing look at Harry with both his eyes.

"It's not easy," he finally said softly. "But when I think of all the Death Eaters that didn't get caught, I can manage. There's nothing in the world I hate more than a Death Eater who went free. LISTEN UP!" He suddenly barked, causing the class to jump again. "In case you missed it the first time, these curses aren't unforgivable because of what they do. They're unforgivable because of how you have to do it. There's plenty of spells to control, or cause pain, or even kill. Good aurors know a dozen lethal spells, and not one of them is considered unforgivable. It's the motivation behind these curses that makes them so powerful, and so dark. Now, write this down."

The rest of the class was spent taking notes as Moody continued to lecture about the details of the unforgivables, and why they were so much worse than normal curses. When the bell finally rang, Harry had to admit that it had been a very informative, if rather unorthodox lecture.

"You don't think he'll really put the Imperious Curse on us, do you?" Tracey asked fearfully as they walked out of the classroom.

"He looked pretty serious to me," Harry answered. "And he's definitely the type that means what he says."

"You can say that again," Blaise muttered. "Definitely not the Professor to mess with."

"Yeah, he scares me," Tracey admitted quietly.

"Really?" Harry asked curiously. "I think I like him."

"I like him too," came the voice of Daphne Greengrass as she stepped up beside Harry.

Blaise snorted. "I'm sorry, were you under the impression that your opinion mattered to us?" He asked mockingly.

Daphne shrugged. "If you're too stupid to see this as an opportunity, then I guess I shouldn't bother you." She said nonchalantly. "You can't rely on other people your whole life, Zabini. Eventually you might have to actually fight for yourself."

Blaise opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut again when he realized that any attempt at a comeback would only make him look bad. Daphne smirked slightly and gave Harry a small wave as she broke off and headed down an adjacent hallway.

Blaise muttered a few choice expletives at her retreating back, but Harry was looking thoughtful. Something was bothering him, but he wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Where to now, Harry?" Tracey asked, breaking him out of his stupor.

"Animagus Transfiguration," Harry answered. "Time to see what kind of professor my Godfather is."

Blaise shook his head. "I can't believe you willingly signed up for an extra class, Potter."

"I would have taken it, too," Tracey said defensively, before muttering, "if my parents let me, anyway."

"Trust me, becoming an animagus is hard, and very time consuming," Blaise said confidently. "Why do you think there's so few registered animagi? If he's lucky, your Godfather will end up with 2 or 3 students who make it all the way to end."

Harry just shrugged. "Only one way to find out, I guess. I'll see you guys later." He turned and started towards Professor Black's classroom.

When he arrived he wasn't surprised to see that he was the only Slytherin 4th year that had decided to take the class. Due to the incredible interest the class had generated, Sirius had been forced to teach 4 classes, one for each year, instead of the two that he had originally planned. Unfortunately, that interest hadn't extended to Slytherin house for some reason. Looking around, Harry spotted Hermione sitting with Padma in a crowded area near the front, and took a seat at an empty desk towards the right of the room.

"Is it safe to sit?" Asked a voice from behind him. Harry turned to see that, once again, Daphne Greengrass was walking towards him. "Or is Zabini waiting somewhere to pounce on me?"

"He's not taking the class," Harry answered. "I figured I'd be the only Slytherin here, to tell the truth." He looked at Daphne quizzically. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"I had to get something from my room and took a shortcut back up," Daphne replied, slipping gracefully into the seat next to him. "And I know for a fact we're the only two Slytherins, but I've always been interested in becoming an animagus, and this was too good a chance to pass up." She looked up to the front of the room, where Sirius was nervously shuffling random papers around on his desk. "He's your Godfather, isn't he?" Daphne asked. "That must be a little weird, him being a teacher, I mean."

Harry just shrugged. "Maybe. It's a little too early to know, though," he said shortly. He really didn't want to talk about it, and Daphne seemed to pick up on that and just nodded mutely before she began to pull her supplies out of her bag.

"Well then," Sirius said nervously. "Welcome to your first animagus class, I'm Sirius Black, and I'll be your teacher." He took a deep breath and gave the class a winning smile. "First things first, how many of you have had a family member that successfully became an animagus?" Harry and 2 other students raised their hands. "Ok, not bad," Sirius said. "I won't lie to you, becoming an animagus is a long, hard process. That's the bad news. The good news," Sirius grinned and scanned the classroom. "Is that it's all worth it. Becoming an animagus is one of the best feelings in the world, because it means you're embracing a part of you that you hardly ever get to see; your animal side." He growled and many of the girls in the class giggled. As he continued speaking, Harry could see his initial nervousness fade as it was replaced by excitement. It was obvious, to Harry at least, that Sirius meant what he said about the wonderful feeling that came with being an animagus.

"…but above all," Sirius was saying. "Being an animagus means letting go of all your thoughts, worries, and human constraints. You have to let go, completely, before you can start to embrace the animal inside you. Once you do that, you'll find that you're animagus form reflects a part of your personality, one that you may or may not have recognized. Many of you have probably noticed that my animagus form and my human form have a lot in common, some would say too much." He grinned. "Professor McGonagall is the same way. She's strict, proper, and it's almost impossible to put one over on her, which is why she's a kneazle animagus."

Hermione raised her hand. "But, Professor," she said shyly. "How will we know what our form is?"

"Excellent question Miss, Granger, isn't it?" Sirius said with a wink. Hermione blushed. "Five points to Gryffindor for identifying the first step in becoming an animagus, and bringing us into our first assignment. I want you all to write a paragraph identifying what you consider your most dominant personality traits. In short, what makes you you. Then we're going to do a little exercise and see what we come up with. I'll give you until the rest of the period to write your paragraphs because frankly," Sirius leaned forward and said in a very loud whisper, "I hate homework."

Harry could only watch in amazement as Sirius became the most popular teacher at Hogwarts, and it hadn't even taken 10 minutes.

"Now," he continued, glancing at Harry and Daphne. "A lot of the things we'll be doing for this class will need more than one person, so, to make it easy, the person you're sitting with right now will be your partner for the rest of the year."

Harry looked over at Daphne, who simply nodded back to him politely before the two began their first assignment. When the lesson was over, Sirius motioned for Harry to stay behind.

"I heard about what Snape did," Sirius said angrily when the other students had left. "I wanted to tell you that Dumbledore knows too, and he won't get away with it."

"Sirius, what are you talking about?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Sirius shuffled uncomfortably and looked at his feet. "I know about the Dursleys, Harry," he said quietly. "I know how they treated you. I don't know how Snape found out, but he had no right to tell Malfoy so he could spread it to the rest of the school." He paused before continuing softly, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

Harry regarded his godfather intently. It was likely that Sirius knew a little of what life had been like with the Dursleys, but he certainly didn't know the full details.

"Honestly Sirius, it wasn't that bad," Harry lied. "Whatever Snape thinks he found out, Malfoy definitely exaggerated, and I think most of the school knows it."

"You don't have to cover for him, Harry," Sirius said heatedly.

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "Look, this isn't the first time Malfoy has made up some crazy story to make me look bad, so it's possible Snape didn't say anything. In fact, Snape might not know anything about it at all. I definitely wouldn't put it past Malfoy to make the whole thing up on his own. He's done it one too many times now, though, and nobody believes him anymore, so I'd really rather you just left it alone." Harry knew he was walking a fine line with his godfather, but he couldn't allow Sirius to go after Snape for leaking the information because that would make it obvious that the rumors were actually true. The entire situation had been resolved quickly and quietly, and the last thing Harry needed was for someone to bring it up again.

"Are you sure about this?" Sirius asked doubtfully. "I know it might be embarrassing for you, but he shouldn't be able to get away with this."

"I'm sure, Sirius," said Harry. "Besides, if you go after Snape then the whole school will know that there was at least some truth to those rumors, and I'll never hear the end of it. As far as I'm concerned it's over and done with, and I'd just like to move on." He looked at his godfather seriously. "Can you do that for me? Move on and let it go?"

Sirius seemed to think about this for a moment before sighing in frustration. "I guess you're right, but I think you're going too easy on that greasy bastard. He doesn't deserve it, Harry."

"You're right, he doesn't deserve it," Harry answered immediately. "But I do, and going after him will only make things more difficult for me. So forget him," Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll off himself with a botched potion."

Sirius's eyes grew misty at the possibility.

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Sirius's popularity continued to grow for the first weeks of term, and before long even Blaise was wondering if it was a mistake not to have taken the class. Of course, the fact that Harry had been paired with Daphne Greengrass made him wish he was in the class for a completely different reason.

Since she and Harry often had work to do together, Daphne now sat with him, Tracey, and Blaise on a semi-frequent basis, much to Blaise's chagrin.

"Here comes your future ex-wife," Blaise muttered to Harry, who was currently explaining the finer points of the summoning charm to a confused Tracey.

"Jealous, Zabini?" Daphne said with a smirk, taking a seat next to Harry.

"I hate to break it to you, Greengrass," said Blaise. "But you're family has nothing to offer me and frankly," he smirked. "You're not that cute."

"What's the matter, not plain enough for you?" Daphne asked innocently. Her eyes flicked to Tracey, who was too busy to notice.

Blaise eyes flashed, but he remained outwardly calm. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he replied. "Just remember, you can transfigure a rat to look like a unicorn, but it'll always be a rat."

This time is was Daphne whose eyes flashed, but she, too, kept her composure. Next to her, Harry suddenly jerked up in surprise and began to listen intently. "I guess you would know," she said dismissively before turning to Harry. "Anyway Harry, I wanted to talk to you about Professor Black. He seems great to us, but I hear that he's really nasty to Slytherins in his sixth and seventh year classes. Always taking points off, making jokes, that sort of thing."

Harry frowned. "Sounds like a reverse version of Snape."

Daphne nodded. "Exactly. Anyway, I thought that since you must have told him about Malfoy, he might think that all of us are like that. Maybe you could talk to him?" She finished uncertainly.

Harry's frown deepened. "Do either of you know anything about this?" He asked Blaise and Tracey.

Tracey shook her head and Blaise shrugged. "I heard Pucey got thrown out class last week, but not why."

"He threw Pucey out because he stood up and said his teaching wasn't fair," Daphne jumped in. "At least, that's what I heard."

"Who told you that?" Blaise asked skeptically.

"Obviously somebody who doesn't talk to you."

"Is that right?" Blaise said sarcastically. "You wouldn't have told this 'somebody' that you could get Harry to help him out, would you? As a favor?"

Daphne let out an exaggerated sigh. "You know, Zabini, sometimes it's ok to help somebody just because you can, even if there's nothing in it for you."

"Is that a no?"

"Yes, that's a no," Daphne said snidely before turning to Harry. "I just thought you'd like to know, Harry."

"Well, I'll ask him about it the next time I see him," Harry said, cutting off what was sure to be another insult from Blaise.

Daphne breathed a small sigh of relief and smiled. "Thanks. Anyway, how's your word association coming along?"

"Word association?" Tracey asked, confused.

"Animagus assignment," Harry explained. "I told you we were supposed to list our dominant personality traits?" Tracey nodded. "Well, now we're supposed to have someone read them out loud to us and we write down the first animal that comes to mind without actually thinking about it. We're also supposed to ask our friends how they would describe us, like I did yesterday. Supposedly stuff like this helps us find our forms, though I'm not sure how."

"Well, you're gonna have to find your form later," cut in Blaise. "Because it's time for Defense." Harry glanced at his watch and nodded before packing up his supplies with a quick wave of his wand. Daphne quirked an eyebrow at Harry's casual use of silent casting, but said nothing.

Much to Blaise's chagrin, Daphne walked with them to Moody's classroom, taking a seat at a nearby table when they arrived. When everyone was seated, Moody stood up from his desk and began to pace.

"I've spoken to Dumbledore," he began gruffly. "And we've decided that you've had enough theory on the unforgivables." His magic eye slowly scanned the room. "Theory will never teach you the real power behind dark magic, so today each of you is going to be put under the Imperious Curse, and you're going to do your best to fight it off. It might seem harsh, since you'll likely all fail, but you've got to know. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He barked. "On each of your desks is a magically binding waiver. Before we start, I want each of you to read it over and sign at the bottom. If you don't think you can handle this, or don't want to sign the waiver, there's the door." He gestured towards the back of the room. "For the rest of you, read it over and we'll get started."

One by one the students in the class were subjected to the curse, and Harry watched as they performed the ridiculous stunts that Moody told them to. Harry nearly lost it when Blaise performed "I'm called Little Buttercup," from the opera H.M.S Pinafore, which seemed to be one of Moody's favorites.

"Potter, you're next."

Harry stood up anxiously and walked to the front of the room, concentrating on his occlumency and willing himself to emerge the victor. Truth be told, he'd been looking forward to this since Moody had announced it, since it gave him the opportunity to test himself against the most powerful mind control curse in existence. If he could beat this, he could beat anything.

"Imperio," Moody muttered.

Instantly, two things happened in Harry's mind. The first was a feeling of complete euphoria, as if everything in the world was perfect, and there would never be anything to worry about again. However, this feeling was so completely foreign to Harry that his mind seemed to instinctively scream 'ATTACK!' Within a second of Moody casting the curse, Harry's mind was at war with itself.

Jump up on the desk, came Moody's voice in his head. Jump on the desk, now.

NO! Screamed another voice in Harry's head. We will not be controlled!

Jump onto the desk. NOW! Moody's voice said, growing more insistent.

Harry felt his knees bending, preparing to jump…

NEVER!

The second voice shattered the curse's control, and Harry was finally able to occlude his own thoughts from those coming from Moody. With the attack identified, it only took a moment of intense concentration for him to throw off the curse entirely, and he straightened from his half crouched position.

"No." He said firmly.

For a moment, Harry could have sworn that Moody looked furious, but it was quickly replaced with a mangled grin.

"Now that's more like it!" Moody roared. "Did you see that? Potter fought, and he won! We'll try one more time, Potter, to make sure it wasn't a fluke."

Having already experienced the effects of the curse, Harry found it rather easy to throw off the second time, and walked back to his seat with heavy praise and no homework from Moody. The rest of the class was to write an assignment detailing how they could better prepare themselves to fight off the Imperious Curse, to be handed in next class.

As Harry walked out of class, trying his best to answer his friends questions, Moody slipped up to owlery to dispatch a very important letter detailing this latest feat of the Boy-Who-Lived.

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The Riddle House

Little Hangleton

"WHAT?!" Wormtail cringed at the ire in his master's wheezing voice. "What do you mean the plan has failed? How?"

"A letter from Hogwarts, my Lord. Somehow Harry Potter can resist the Imperious Curse completely, so our agent will be unable to bring him to us as planned."

"Our agent, Wormtail?" The Dark Lord said dangerously. "He is my agent, and mine alone. Don't make that mistake again." Wormtail bowed and stuttered an apology. "So, the boy can resist the Imperious," Voldemort mused. "Does the old fool suspect anything?"

"No, my Lord," Wormtail replied. "Your servant convinced him it would be educational to subject the students to the curse during class. He used the opportunity to assess its effectiveness on Potter."

"A good thing, too," Voldemort rasped. "This changes things. Send word to my loyal servant to increase his contact with the boy, and report anything interesting he learns." He paused for a moment, deep in thought, when an idea suddenly hit him. "When does my old apprentice Karkaroff arrive at Hogwarts, Wormtail?"

"Uh," Wormtail began shuffling papers frantically before finally finding the one he was looking for. "The end of October, my Lord."

Voldemort smiled, causing Wormtail to shudder involuntarily. "You will tell my loyal servant that he is to seek Karkaroff out immediately."

"The traitor?" Wormtail asked incredulously. Realizing he had interrupted his master, he fell to the floor in apology.

"You are fortunate that I still find you useful, Wormtail," the Dark Lord said slowly. "Interrupt me again and I may reconsider." Wormtail flattened himself to the dirty floor in supplication, apologizing profusely. "Now, finish writing down my instructions." Voldemort continued. "He is to threaten Igor, and tell him to stay away from Harry Potter. He is to specifically mention that the boy will become a beacon for the light, and that any attempts by Igor to seduce him with dark arts will be met with extreme prejudice."

Wormtail finished copying his master's instructions before looking up quizzically.

"Master, if I may?" He asked hesitantly. Voldemort gestured for him to continue. "If I am mistaken about Karkaroff, why do we not simply contact him directly?"

Voldemort wheezed what might have been a laugh, but it was too weak to tell.

"You should know better than to speak of things you know nothing about," he reprimanded. "But I will answer, for my own amusement if nothing else. Igor respects power, and only power. He was loyal only as long as I was the stronger of us, and I have no doubt that I will have to kill him eventually. However, I have nothing to offer him in my current condition, and he would likely use the knowledge against me to gain favor in high places. He is ruled by his pride, Wormtail, and by his pride can he be manipulated. I want Harry Potter corrupted, and there are few more qualified to do it than Igor." The Dark Lord's mangled face split into what could have been a smile. "Tell me, Wormtail, what do you think his reaction will be when Alastor Moody attempts to force him to stay away from Harry Potter? When he specifically forbids Igor to teach the boy dark arts?" Wormtail stared at his master dumbly and Voldemort sighed. "He will take it as a direct challenge from a hated enemy, and do his best to lull young Potter to his side."

"But master, won't that just make Potter dangerous?"

"Crucio!" Wormtail screamed as the curse hit him, but in his weakened state, Voldemort was only able to hold it for a few short seconds.

"Your tongue is rather loose tonight, Wormtail," Voldemort rasped threateningly. Wormtail cringed. "Remember the price of your answer, and listen well. You tell me the boy was abused as a child and forced to make his own way to survive. He is fiercely independent, and a Slytherin, which means he values ambition and craves power. Even more, he was willing to let Black torture you when it was he who captured you, which means that he is far from the Golden Boy the old fool wishes him to be. The plan needs to be changed, and I will think on it, but my intentions for Harry Potter have not changed. With the proper motivation, the boy may not prove as dangerous to us as you think. In fact," Voldemort's crimson eyes flashed. "He may yet become our greatest asset."

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True to Daphne's prediction, the rumors about Harry being abused had done more harm than good for Draco Malfoy, who was now regarded as a "pathetic, attention seeking prat," in the words of a sixth year Ravenclaw girl. The line had become something of a running joke in the school, since the girl had said it quite loudly in the middle of the Great Hall during dinner. More importantly, none of the teachers had approached Harry about it, and there had been no mention of him in the Daily Prophet; something he was quite thankful for.

In fact, except for the insults flying between Blaise and Daphne, the next few weeks passed entirely without incident for Harry. His classes continued to be boring, with switching spells in Transfiguration and summoning being taught in Charms, both of which he had mastered long ago. Moody had moved beyond the unforgivables and was now teaching the class how to properly cast a few select curses, and Binns was simply Binns.

The only class that remained completely original for Harry was his godfather's Animagus Transfiguration class. After talking with Daphne, Harry had approached Sirius and found that although her account had been exaggerated, it was obvious that the man still held some anti-Slytherin prejudice from before his time in Azkaban. Still, he had promised Harry that he would try to be fair in the future, especially when Harry had compared him to Snape, and that was the last Harry had heard about it.

When the class had finished their word association and research assignments, Sirius moved on to a series of slightly hallucinogenic potions that he claimed would help each student let go of conscious thought, thus making is easier to get in touch with their 'animal' side. This had presented a significant problem for Harry, to whom letting go of anything was a completely foreign concept.

"Argh! Are you even trying, Potter?" Daphne snapped as Harry threw off the effects of the potion for the third consecutive time.

"I don't like the feeling I'm getting," Harry said, frowning. He raised his hand and Sirius came over to their table.

"Is there another way to do this?" Harry asked his Godfather.

"Well, some people can do it without the potion," Sirius answered. "But it's a lot easier with it. Trust me, I know."

"I just can't stand feeling out of control like that," Harry admitted slowly. "It feels a little like the Imperious Curse; like I'm submitting to someone else's control."

"That's what it's supposed to feel like," Sirius assured him. "Except there's nobody controlling you except your subconscious. You should start to hear your animal's voice and feel its desires as you go deeper inside yourself."

"Well, I think I've tried enough for today," said Harry. "I'll try again next class."

Sirius looked slightly disappointed, but nodded before walking off to help the rest of the class.

"Why is this so hard for you?" Daphne asked curiously.

"I just don't like the feeling," Harry answered simply.

"Like you're losing control? You don't find it liberating?" Daphne pressed, using the same words Sirius had to describe the experience.

"No, I don't," Harry admitted. "I don't find it freeing at all."

Daphne shrugged. "Maybe you just need to relax a little. It was a little disorienting for me at first, too, but once you get past that it's not that bad."

"Well, maybe I'll try it without the potion," Harry replied.

"Ok, if I could have your attention, please," Sirius said from the front of the room. "By now, most of you have a good idea of what your form feels like. From now until next class, I want to you write down everything you can remember about your experience with the potion and think about it. Ask your friends what they think, and try to think about how you demonstrate these qualities in your daily life. That's it for today, class dismissed." Harry got up and slung his bag over his shoulder, but stopped when he saw Sirius motion for him to remain behind.

"What's up?" He asked when the rest of the class had left.

"You asked if there was another way to do this, and there is, but it isn't exactly pleasant," Sirius began hesitantly. "The potion you took in class is really only half strength, and in can be mixed with a mental suppressant to virtually guarantee that you feel your form, but there are drawbacks."

"Such as?"

"Well, first of all, it will probably knock you out for at least 12 hours. Second, it can sometimes trigger a spontaneous transformation, which is extremely disorienting and confusing. I'm moving the class along slowly so that when they finally find their forms and start to transform, they understand what they're getting into and the feelings associated with it. With a spontaneous transformation, you don't have that. You're suddenly a completely different animal, with all its instincts and desires. Most of the time we have to forcefully reverse the transformation, and that's never pleasant."

Harry frowned. "That doesn't exactly sound promising, but I'll keep it in mind if nothing else works."

Sirius visibly relaxed. "I think that's a good idea. It's still early, and you've got plenty of time to learn."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Harry agreed.

Sirius grinned. "So, anxious for Friday?" He asked with a wink. "You know what they say about French girls…"

Harry looked his godfather thoughtfully. "You know, you seem to be awfully focused on my love life for someone without a girl of his own."

"It's not wrong to look out for my godson first, is it?" Sirius replied. "Besides, I have too many potentials to make a decision just yet."

"I'm sure."

"What about that Greengrass girl? Or maybe Hermione?" Sirius pressed. "It's pretty obvious they both like you."

Harry wondered how Sirius had come to the conclusion that Daphne liked him, but decided to ask about it later.

"Yeah yeah," he said dismissively. "I've gotta go or I'll be late." He turned to leave, but not before calling over his shoulder:

"And I'll believe you've got potentials when I see one."

He expertly sidestepped the hair coloring hex that Sirius sent at him as he slipped out into the hallway, sealing the door with a thought as he left.

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By Friday morning the entire school was buzzing with anticipation as the students anxiously awaited the arrival of the Triwizard Tournament candidates from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. It got so bad that both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick threatened to throw their entire morning classes into detention just to keep them from speculating about the new arrivals and concentrate on the lesson. Professor Snape issued the same threat, of course, but unlike the other two it was far from the first time he had done so.

When the time finally came, the entire school emptied out onto the grounds and organized themselves by year with the teachers at the back.

"Aha!" Dumbledore exclaimed suddenly. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

The students began to look around frantically, trying to find what the headmaster had spotted, but most continued to look confused.

"Look, there!" Tracey said suddenly, pointing to the sky.

Harry looked to where she was pointing and was just able to make out a very large blob approaching them at high speed.

"Pegasi," Tracey breathed in awe. "They have a team of Pegasi."

It took a few moments for Harry to see what Tracey was talking about, but eventually he could make out a large flying carriage drawn by what was unmistakably a team of very large winged horses. The Pegasi began to circle gracefully as they descended toward the ground, oblivious to the awed glances and fierce whispers now running through the assembled students.

When the carriage had finally touched down the door was thrown open and a very large, very feminine foot stepped out, followed by what was unmistakably the largest woman Harry had ever seen.

"You've got to be kidding me," he heard Malfoy say from behind him. "They have a half-breed as a headmistress? What is the world coming to?" There were several snickers and rude comments from the Slytherins surrounding him, drawing a harsh look from Professor McGonagall.

"What's he talking about?" Harry whispered to Blaise as Dumbledore stepped forward to meet the Beauxbatons delegation.

"Isn't it obvious?" Blaise whispered back. "She has to have giant blood in her somewhere, it's the only explanation." He snorted. "Maybe she's related to Hagrid."

"Really?" Harry asked. Dumbledore had just introduced the huge woman as Madame Maxime and was leading her and the Beauxbatons students into the castle. There appeared to be about a dozen of them, a mixed group of boys and girls, all shivering and looking around apprehensively. "I guess I'd never really thought about it."

"Even some strange spell damage wouldn't have that affect permanently," Blaise answered. "I'd bet a thousand galleons they both have giant blood in them somewhere, and probably not a small amount."

Harry was about to reply when he was interrupted by a loud shout from Lee Jordan.

"The lake! Look at the lake!"

Harry turned toward the lake with the rest of the students just in time to see a ship's mast begin to rise out of a fierce whirlpool. A large, ghostly looking ship slowly emerged flying a flag that Harry assumed belonged to the Durmstrang School. When it had surfaced completely, the whirlpool vanished and people began to disembark. Harry turned when he heard Dumbledore emerge from the castle and was surprised to see a wary, almost menacing look on the headmaster's face as he approached the delegation from Durmstrang.

"I can't believe Dumbledore let him come here," Blaise said, shaking his head in what appeared to be amusement.

"Let who come?" Questioned Harry.

"Karkaroff," Blaise answered, pointing to the man currently leading the Durmstrang students towards the school. He was tall and slender, with long, black hair and blue eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. He was dressed in regal looking robes made of sleek, silver fur and walked with such confidence and casual grace that he drew more than one impressed glanced from the students.

"He's the headmaster of Durmstrang," Blaise continued. "But he used to a Death Eater, and an important one too. It was rumored that he was the Dark Lord's apprentice at one point, but that was really just a rumor."

"He's a Death Eater?" Harry asked incredulously. "What the hell is he doing here, then?"

"When the Dark Lord fell, Karkaroff gave up a good number of other Death Eaters, and claimed that although he had associated with the Dark Lord in the past, he'd never actually attacked anyone." Blaise snorted. "Total bollocks, of course. Karkaroff was something of a lieutenant for the Dark Lord, supposedly one of his most powerful followers, so it's pretty much a guarantee that he led some of the attacks, but they could never prove it. He was even questioned under veritaserum, but always gave the same answers."

"Veritaserum isn't a hundred percent reliable, though," said Harry.

"Exactly," Blaise nodded. "But without any other evidence, they couldn't send him to Azkaban, and since he named so many other prominent Death Eaters, he got off with a slap on the wrist."

"But even though they couldn't prove it, people like Dumbledore know the truth," Harry said, catching on. "That explains why Dumbledore wasn't happy to see him." He watched as Dumbledore led Karkaroff and the rest of the Durmstrang students towards the castle. As they passed, Harry caught the profile of the student walking at the head of the column with Karkaroff and realized that he recognized him.

"Hey, isn't that Viktor Krum?"

Blaise looked at where Harry was pointing and his eyes widened. "It sure is. Wow, I didn't know he was still in school." He chuckled. "I guess we know who the Durmstrang champion is going to be."

The Hogwarts students followed the Durmstrang delegation back into the school and made their way into the Great Hall. Harry noticed that the foreign students seemed to be confused for a moment as they watched the rest of the students make their way to their house tables. Finally, the Beauxbatons students took seats at the Ravenclaw table while the Durmstrang students sat with Harry and his housemates. Dumbledore made a brief announcement welcoming the other schools before the tables were filled with food and the feast began.

"What's with all the new food?" Tracey asked, eyeing several dishes hesitantly.

"Probably for the foreigners," Blaise answered shortly. He looked up the table to where Malfoy was currently fawning over Victor Krum and snorted.

Harry, meanwhile, was watching the head table, where Moody and Karkaroff were apparently having a very emotional discussion. Dumbledore quickly got up and separated them, and Harry was surprised to see Karkaroff eyes immediately flash towards him. The Durmstrang headmaster looked back at Moody and smirked, tapping his right shoulder mockingly.

"What do suppose that's about?" Harry asked Blaise, motioning to the head table.

"Given each of their histories, they've probably fought each other before," said Blaise. "Looks like one of them took a wound to the shoulder."

"Who are those two?" Tracey asked, pointing to two other adults at the head table.

"That's Ludo Bagman, the old Quidditch player," Blaise said, indicating the larger of the two men. He had a round, boyish face and seemed to be easily amused, if his constant laughter throughout the meal was any indication. "I recognize the other one, but I can't remember his name."

For a moment it looked like Moody and Karkaroff were going to duel right there in the Great Hall, but eventually cooler heads prevailed and they both took their seats. Harry continued to watch the interaction between the teachers for the rest of the meal, but although the situation seemed tense, there were no more outbursts on either side. When the feast was over, Dumbledore stood once more to announce the start of the tournament.

"Before we announce the selection process, I'd like to introduce two representatives from the Ministry of Magic who were integral in bringing the tournament to Hogwarts this year: Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." There was a round of applause for the two men before Dumbledore motioned for silence.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangement for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts. The instructions for the tasks have already been examined and approved by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the year, designed to test all aspects of the champions' skill and character. Each champion will be given a score after each task, and the one with the highest overall score will named this year's Triwizard Champion. Now, for the announcement you've been waiting for," Dumbledore smiled at the hall and walked out from behind his podium towards a large box that had been placed on a pedestal in front of him. "The school champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore tapped the box with his wand and it fell away to reveal a large, wooden cup wreathed in blue flames. The students all gazed at the goblet in awe as the headmaster continued.

"Anyone wishing to enter the tournament must write their name and school upon a piece of parchment and drop it into the Goblet. You will have twenty four hours to do so, and the champion will be selected following dinner tomorrow night. To ensure that no student under the age of 17 is able to enter, I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall." Dumbledore smiled sympathetically as loud groans were heard throughout the hall. "Finally, I feel the need to impress upon all of you the seriousness of entering yourself into the tournament, for it is not a commitment to be made lightly. The tasks are designed to test not only your magical skill, but also your ingenuity, intelligence, and ability to face danger. What's more, placing your name in the goblet represents a binding magical contract. If chosen, you are therefore obligated to continue until the end. Now, I believe it is time for bed, and wish you all a good night."

The hall was immediately overcome with chatter once again as students made their way back to their respective common rooms.

"So, who's it gonna be?" Blaise asked the question that was on every students mind.

"I don't know anyone from Hogwarts that's planning to enter other than Cedric," Harry answered.

"He wouldn't be too bad," said Tracey. "But don't tell anyone else I said that."

"They wouldn't believe me anyway," Blaise said, laughing. "Besides, as long as it isn't a Gryff, I'll be happy."

"Well, whoever it is, they better be prepared if they're going to take on Krum," Harry said absently. "Why can't we get out, anyway? Is somebody blocking the exit."

"I can't tell," Blaise said, frowning. "It looks like somebody is blocking the way, and I don't like waiting." Suddenly he turned to Harry and smirked mischievously. "Whoa Potter!" He said loudly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll tell them to start moving, just don't get violent."

Harry leveled a vicious glare at his friend just as the group of students in front of them turned around. The group took one look at the expression on Harry's face before they scrambled to the sides to make room. Blaise smirked victoriously as the opening widened giving Harry a clear view of what was causing the traffic jam.

Standing on the middle of the entryway was a large group of boys surrounding a tall, blonde girl dressed in what Harry recognized as a Beauxbatons uniform. The girl was strikingly beautiful, although to Harry it seemed like her movements were almost too graceful, as if she he were seeing her in a movie instead of in person. The group of boys surrounding her seemed to be deliberately dragging their feet, each hoping to get a chance to say something to grab her attention, and clogging the exit in the process. As he approached Harry saw that several girls were trying to get the boys attention, but were either shaken off or ignored.

"Will you move!?" Screeched a sixth year Ravenclaw. "You're holding everyone up!"

"Yeah, ok," mumbled one of the boys, not turning around. "Whate-."

BOOM!

Harry's canon blast charm startled the group of assembled students and broke the boys out of their trance.

"You're blocking the exit," Harry said succinctly. "If you want to talk, move over there." A few of the boys moved immediately, while some of the older ones muttered to themselves and shot questioning looks at the girl from Beauxbatons.

"Who is zis boy?" She asked in a snooty French accent, turning up her nose. "I will not be ordered around by a child."

"Yeah Potter," broke in another boy. "You can't tell her-"

BOOM!

This time Harry sent a weak concussion hex as well as the canon blast charm, forcing the girl and the rest of the group to take a step backwards.

"That'll do." He said as he started to walk past them. He had only taken two steps before the girl seemed to materialize in front of him.

"You are Arry Potter?" She asked, her eyes focused on his forehead. Suddenly she smiled, and Harry felt strangely drawn to her. Up close, she was even more beautiful than he'd imagined, and he found himself wishing for nothing more than to be near her. The rational part of his mind noted that it was a strange feeling, almost like….

ATTACK!

With a start, he realized exactly what it felt like; the veela at the world cup. It was definitely stronger, probably because she was so close, but it was the same feeling.

"My name is Fleur, Fleur Delacour," she said, holding out her hand daintily.

Angrily, Harry shifted his occlumency shields and banished the foreign presence from his mind before scowling at the girl in front of him.

"I don't care who you are," he growled. "Don't try that trick on me again." With that he strode past the astonished girl and walked off without a backwards glance. Blaise tried to follow but found himself enthralled as he tried to pass Fleur.

"That wasn't really fair, Potter," Blaise muttered, staring wide-eyed at the blonde beauty.

"Oh for god's sake," Tracey huffed, smacking him on the arm before dragging him off. "Just because she's French…" She muttered angrily.

"Actually, it's more because she's part veela," said Harry as they approached. "It's more powerful than what I felt at the World Cup, but it's definitely the same thing."

By now Blaise had shaken himself out of his stupor and had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Not exactly fair," he muttered to himself before looking at Harry. "You could have said something, you know."

"Would you have believed me?"

Blaise thought about that before shaking his head. "Probably not."

"Veela," Tracey spat, shaking her head. "I can't believe they let her come."

"Why not?" Asked Harry, confused.

"Why do you mean, why not?" Tracey asked incredulously.

"Women hate veela because they steal their men," Blaise interrupted, smirking. "There's been more than one family broken up because the husband was ensnared by a veela, only to be left heartbroken later."

"That's all they do," Tracey nearly shrieked. "They use their charm to take any man they want and parade him around like a pet, even if he's already in love or married. They're all sluts, too." She added nastily. "I'll bet she's already thinking about which boys at Hogwarts she'll have this year."

"Tracey is exaggerating, as usual," Blaise broke in smoothly. "Not all veela are like that, although they certainly carry the stigma."

"Typical man," Tracey huffed. "Anything for a pretty face."

"Typical woman," Blaise quipped back. "Every girl prettier than you is evil."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Blaise knew he'd gone too far. Tracey's mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a moment before her eyes started to fill with tears.

"I didn't mean that," Blaise began apologetically, but Tracey turned and fled down the stairs. Blaise sighed. "I'm going to be paying for that one tomorrow."

Harry only nodded as they continued down to the Slytherin common room.

As expected, Tracey refused to listen to Blaise's apology the next morning, leaving Harry with the unenviable task of being the mediator between the two long-time friends. This continued until evening and into dinner.

"Harry, would you ask him," Tracey said, jerking her finger in Blaise's direction, "to pass the pumpkin juice."

Blaise exhaled heavily. "Look, I said I was sorry, and I'm not sure what else you want. You know how I get sometimes, I say things I don't mean. Plus I was still feeling some effects from the Veela charm."

Tracey snorted at his excuse when she suddenly saw her opportunity for payback, and waved her hand in the air.

"Hey Daphne," she called as Daphne Greengrass walked in to the Great Hall. "Sit with us."

For a moment Daphne was confused, but it only took a moment of careful study to see that Davis was upset with Zabini over something and wanted to get under his skin. Daphne, of course, was only too happy to oblige.

"Hi Tracey, Harry" she said politely before smirking at Blaise. "Zabini."

"Blaise was just telling us how weak he is against Delacour's veela charm," said Tracey. "Go on, Blaise."

"Oh very nice," Blaise said sarcastically, glaring at her.

"Oh not you too!" Daphne exclaimed before turning to Tracey. "Don't you just hate that? Blonde hair and a pretty face and all of a sudden it's 'veela charm this' and 'veela charm that.'" She shook her head. "Pretty pathetic excuse if you ask me."

"She's part veela," said Blaise through gritted teeth. "Even Potter said so." Harry nodded.

"Really?" Daphne asked skeptically. "Curious, then, that Harry was able to ignore her and you couldn't even walk past her. And she was actually trying to stop him."

Blaise took one look at the two girls and decided to cut his losses and remain silent.

It appeared that Daphne was going to press her advantage, but Dumbledore suddenly stood up and began to walk toward the podium, effectively silencing the hall.

"Well," the headmaster began. "Now that our appetites have been satisfied, I believe it is almost time for the goblet to make its decision. I would ask that each of our champions stand up when their name is called and make their way to the antechamber behind me, where they will receive their first instructions." The headmaster paused for a moment to let his instruction to sink in. "Now then, without further ado," he turned and looked at the goblet expectantly. Almost on queue, the blue flames in the Goblet of Fire turned red and began to spark. Dumbledore stepped over to it just as a large flame shot out of the top accompanied by a singed piece of singed parchment. The headmaster caught it deftly and read it before calling out:

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

There was a loud burst of applause as Krum stood up and walked swiftly to the front of the hall and into the antechamber. The hall continued to chatter after he'd gone until the flames in the goblet turned red again and shot out another piece of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour!"

Again there was a burst of applause, this time accompanied by more than one wail of disappointment from the remaining Beauxbatons students. Fleur stood up gracefully and made a slight bow before proceeding to join Krum.

"Here we go," Tracey muttered as the silence in the hall became deafening. With another burst of flame the third piece of parchment shot out of the goblet and into the headmaster's waiting hand.

"The champion for Hogwarts will be Cedric Diggory!"

At that announcement, every student at the Hufflepuff table jumped to their feet and began to cheer wildly. Next to Harry, Blaise groaned.

"I should've guessed," he said, shaking his head. "Well, it could definitely be worse. Just think if-"

He stopped abruptly, and Harry looked up to see that Dumbledore had also paused and was looking at the red flames in the goblet questioningly. A moment later another large flame shot up, accompanied by a fourth piece of parchment. Once again, the headmaster plucked it out of the air and brought it before his eyes, but this time he paused before making the announcement. Finally he cleared his throat and called:

"Harry Potter."

For a moment, Harry was confused. Even as every head in the Great Hall turned in his direction, he was thinking that this was some type of joke. His eyes flashed to Sirius, thinking it was just his style, but his godfather looked just as confused as everyone else.

The entire hall was deathly silent as Harry looked around him with a frown on his face.

"This is a joke, right?" He said to no one in particular.

Dumbledore, who had been whispering with the other professors at the head table, abruptly returned to the podium and cleared his throat.

"Harry Potter, please proceed to the antechamber with the other champions." He said firmly.

Harry looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious," he said, standing from his seat. Rather than turn towards the antechamber with the other champions, Harry walked straight up to Dumbledore.

"I don't know what's going on here," he said quietly. "But I didn't put my name in that thing."

"This is not the right place to discuss it," said Dumbledore. "If you will follow the other champions, we will join you shortly and we can resolve this matter."

Harry thought about it for a second, but finally nodded and walked toward the antechamber. As he entered, he noticed the other three champions situated around the fireplace at the far end of the room. He continued towards them and was about halfway there when Fleur Delacour looked up and noticed him.

"Potter?" She asked, surprised. "What is it? Did zey send you with a message?

Harry shook his head and was about to reply when the door burst open and Dumbledore entered, followed by a host of others including Moody, Bagman, Crouch, Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. Sirius was also there, and it looked like he wasn't sure whether he should be proud or angry. Harry again opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Ludo Bagman.

"Well, well, well," the large man said brightly. "As unlikely as it seems, may I be the first to present the fourth Triwizard champion!" He gestured grandly at Harry.

The room was immediately overcome with several shouted objections, one of which came from Harry himself, before Dumbledore regained control of the room.

"I understand your objections," he said calmly, looking at Madame Maxime and Karkaroff in turn. "And if you have an alternative solution, I would be delighted to hear it." He looked at them questioningly, but both remained silent. "I have spoken with Mr. Crouch, and I'm afraid the rules are clear: Harry's name came out of the goblet, and thus he is magically bound to compete in the tournament. There can be no other way."

"WHAT?" Harry blurted. The rest of the room turned to him in astonishment. "That's ridiculous. I didn't put my name it the damn goblet-" Fleur snorted but Harry ignored her. "And I don't want any part of the tournament, so," he shrugged, "problem solved."

"But of course he iz lying!" Said Madame Maxime.

"I'm afraid it's irrelevant," Bagman broke in loudly. "No one knows the rulebook better than Barty, so if he says Harry has to compete, there's no way around it. The boy will just have to do the best he can."

"Wait, even if he didn't put his own name in?" Asked Sirius.

Crouch seemed to stutter for a moment before adopting a sheepish expression.

"I'm sorry to say that has never been an issue before. The age limit was only imposed this year, as you know, and to be chosen as a champion is such an honor that, well," he trailed apologetically. "It's never come up before."

"So what you're saying is that the goblet can force anybody, anywhere into a magically binding contract to compete in the Triwizard tournament, no matter what?" Harry asked incredulously. "I could have put Dumbledore's name in and he'd have to compete if it came out?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Crouch snapped. "You entered into the contract when you signed your name on that parchment."

"Let me see that," Harry said, holding his hand out to Dumbledore. The headmaster handed him the parchment and he examined it incredulously. It was definitely his signature written there, which just made him more confused.

"This is my writing," he muttered. "My full signature, even."

"Let me see that," Moody said suddenly, grabbing the parchment from Harry.

"You admit it is your writing, then?" Crouch asked.

"It's my writing, but I didn't put it in the goblet." Harry answered.

"Whether that is true or not," said Crouch. "The contract is already in effect. Mr. Potter will have to compete."

The room was once again overcome with protests and objections before Dumbledore was able to restore order.

"As I said before," he said calmly. "If anyone has an alternative, I'd be delighted to hear it. If not, I'm afraid we have little choice but to let Harry compete, even if he himself would rather not." He look at Harry apologetically.

Harry, however, had had enough.

"I've already said I didn't want to compete in the tournament," he began, holding up a hand to forestall any objections. "But you say that doesn't matter, so let me rephrase: I will not be competing in the Triwizard tournament, contract or no contract. There are three champions," he motion to the other three students in the room. "Not four. Call it an freak accident, a magical anomaly, or anything else you can think of. Say you have absolutely no idea why the goblet spit out four names instead of three, but that it won't affect the integrity of the tournament." Harry paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "Just so we're clear, I am not competing in the Triwizard tournament. Cedric Diggory is the only Hogwarts champion, does everyone understand?"

"Dumbly-dorr, how can you allow a student to speak to us so?" Madame Maxime asked incredulously. "He breaks the rules and blames us?"

"The boy might be on to something," said Moody thoughtfully. "It would take a powerful confundus charm to make the goblet forget that only three schools compete in the tournament, and I'm guessing whoever it was wasn't doing Potter any favors. I'll run some tests on this parchment if that's ok with you, Albus." Dumbledore nodded.

"As refreshing as your paranoia is, auror," Karkaroff spat the last work mockingly. "It does absolutely nothing to help us solve this problem."

"The problem is solved," Harry cut in. "I'm not competing."

"I'm afraid that simply isn't possible, Mr. Potter," Crouch began firmly.

"Well, it's going to have to be possible," Harry interrupted. "And I want to see a copy of these rules as soon as possible."

Crouch scowled at being interrupted. "That I can arrange, but-"

"I have nothing else to say to you," Harry interrupted again before turning and walking towards his godfather.

"You really didn't enter yourself, did you?" Sirius asked him quietly.

"No, I didn't. I'd like to know who did though, and how."

The two stood in silence for a moment and watched Dumbledore and Crouch attempt to placate Madame Maxime. Whatever they said apparently worked, as the large woman nodded grudgingly before leading Fleur out of the room. Crouch looked disapprovingly at Harry before he walked out as well, followed by Karkaroff and Viktor Krum.

"Was that really necessary, Harry?" Dumbledore asked tiredly once they were gone. "Mr. Crouch is only trying to enforce rules that have been in place for a very long time."

"That's not my problem," Harry answered. "This entire system is ridiculous, and you know it."

"He really does have a point, headmaster," Sirius said hesitantly. "How can there be a magical contract if he didn't initiate it?"

Dumbledore sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I'm afraid I am at a loss to explain that myself. There is, however, no one more knowledgeable about the Goblet of Fire and the Triwizard Tournament that Mr. Crouch, and it is safe to assume that he is not simply lying."

"What's this magical contract do, anyway?" Asked Harry.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "The consequences for breaking a magical contract vary depending on what the contract is for. In this instance, because the contract was made to apply strictly to students, to break it would mean being expelled from Hogwarts and banned from attending any other magical institution or participating in a licensed apprenticeship."

"What?!" Exclaimed Sirius, aghast.

"You must remember, Sirius, that the rules for the Triwizard Tournament have not been changed for over 500 years," said Dumbledore. "At that time, for a student to back out of his commitment would have been a mark of dishonor, rendering him unworthy to study magic in the eyes of the community. Unfortunately, though we did take precautions to ensure the safety of the champions this time around, we did not think to examine the rules in their entirety. For that I apologize, since it has led to our current dilemma."

"There has to be a way around this," Harry said stubbornly. "What if I get disqualified for cheating or something like that?"

"The result would be the same, I'm afraid."

Harry was silent for a moment before he shook his head angrily. "I'll find a way out, just make sure Crouch gives me the rules tomorrow. Until then, I'd appreciate it if you would do as I asked and not announce me as a fourth champion."

Beside him, Sirius chuckled nervously. "It's, uh, already a little late for that," he said hesitantly. "Bagman sort of announced you as the fourth champion before we came in here."

"I should have known that," said Harry with a mirthless chuckle. "Why wouldn't he have?"

"I know you're upset Harry-" Dumbledore began.

"Whatever," Harry interrupted angrily, turning his back on the headmaster. "I'm going to bed. Make sure Crouch has me those rules by tomorrow, or I'll get them myself."

With that, he walked out of the room and back towards the dungeons. He ignored everyone trying to get his attention as he walked through the Slytherin common room and went straight to bed, trying in vain to find some way to fix the debacle he suddenly found himself in.

As expected, the next morning Harry was greeted with a great many whispers and even more cold shoulders from the other students, most of whom obviously believed that he had entered himself in the tournament. Tracey and Blaise believed him, of course, and the rest of Slytherin house seemed more upset that he wouldn't tell them how he beat the age line than the fact that he'd actually entered, but the rest of the students weren't so understanding, especially the Hufflepuffs.

When Harry saw Cedric walk into the Great Hall for breakfast, he immediately got up and made his way over to him. Cedric saw him approach and waited for him in front of the Hufflepuff table.

"Here to tell me you didn't enter yourself?" The older boy asked wryly.

"I didn't put my name in that fucking cup," said Harry.

Cedric chuckled. "I know you didn't, don't even worry about it." Behind him, several of the people at the table gasped. "You know, one of the first things Jack said about you was that it seemed like crazy stuff just seemed to seek you out. I guess he was right." He lost his grin and turned serious. "Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to get these ridiculous rules from Crouch and find a way out," Harry answered firmly. "I refuse to believe that an old cup can force me to do something against my will, magic or no magic."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, actually," said Cedric. "From what I hear, the Goblet of Fire is a pretty powerful artifact, and the rules it uses are nothing short of ancient. I wouldn't be surprised if you really did have to compete."

"Well, if comes to that I'll just slack off and lose," Harry snorted. "Badly. Either that or I'll deliberately screw up every task so nobody knows what's going on. At least that might be fun."

Cedric laughed. "Just make sure you go after me, then." He started to turn towards his house table but stopped and turned back to Harry. "Oh, and don't worry about these sods," he said jokingly, waving a hand at his housemates. "They're just mad because they think you're stealing my thunder, but they'll get over it. Especially once they realize that you're the one that got the short end of this whole deal."

"I appreciate that," Harry said honestly.

Cedric shrugged. "What are friends for?" He smiled and took a seat while Harry walked out of the Great Hall and back to his common room. He would give Crouch until lunchtime to get him those rules, otherwise he would start looking on his own. He was also planning to ask Blaise what he knew about magical contracts, and see if his Slytherin friend had any idea who would go through the effort to enter Harry in the tournament, or why.

Thinking of all this, Harry sighed. So much for a relaxing year.

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A/N You'll notice that the details of the unforgivables are very different in my story than they are in canon. I did this on purpose because they are supposed to be the darkest of all curses, and to me that means that they shouldn't be easy to cast. This is especially true of the killing curse, since it's unblockable. In this story, the unforgivables will not be the most effective battle spells, and many wizards, even Death Eaters, will not be able to cast them at will.

Next chapter Harry's going to do some digging into the history of the Triwizard tournament and uncover some potentially useful information. Daphne continues her games, and Karkaroff asks Harry some "innocent" questions.

As always, thanks for reading.