A/N Thanks to everybody who reviewed, and sorry it took so long to update. With a little luck the next chapter should be out soon.

As usual, big thanks to everybody at DLP – invisdible, Shezza88, TheIllusiveOne, Myst, Shuujaku, MadBiologist, Nexus, and ip82 – for their comments on the draft.

Ok, back to the story…

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True to his word, Crouch found Harry at lunchtime to deliver a copy of the tournament rules, and Harry spent the rest of the day reading through them, although he was quite surprised at how short they seemed to be.

The next morning at breakfast Harry was sitting at the Slytherin table with a scowl on his face when Blaise came in and sat across from him.

"Hey Blaise," he asked his friend across the table. "When was the last time there was a Triwizard Tournament?"

Blaise looked thoughtful for a moment. "About 120 years ago, I think," he answered.

Harry exhaled heavily. "That's what I thought." He got up and approached the head table.

"I know I'm not going to like the answer to this question," Harry said as he approached. "But are these the rules for the Triwizard Tournament? All the rules?"

"Of course," snapped Crouch, offended.

"This is the original set of rules?" Harry asked skeptically. "Then why are they all dated 1871?"

"That was when the last tournament was held, of course," said Crouch.

"So you just looked at the last tournament they tried and changed it around a little? You never bothered to take a look at the original rules?"

"The first Triwizard tournament was almost 900 years ago!" Crouch said incredulously. "We decided on a more modern approach."

"Of course you did," said Harry. "Unfortunately, nobody bothered to tell the Goblet of Fire, so the rules I'm stuck in are the 900 year old kind."

Crouch's mouth opened and closed for a moment, but no sound came out. Next to him, Dumbledore was frowning.

"I believe Mr. Potter is correct," the headmaster said quietly. "I'm afraid our primary concern for the tournament was the safety of the champions during the three tasks, and it is quite likely that the enchantments surrounding the Goblet of Fire have not been changed since the very first Triwizard Tournament." Crouch began to look flustered as Harry continued to glare at him.

"Where can I find out what I want to know?" Harry finally asked, turning to Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid I do not know the answer to that, Harry," Dumbledore admitted. "However, there are several historians I can contact, if you wish."

"Just give me their names," Harry said tiredly. "I'll contact them myself."

"Very well." Dumbledore conjured a quill and began to write on a piece of parchment.

"Bang up job you did here, Crouch," Sirius said sarcastically. He threw a worried look at Harry, who ignored it.

"By the way," Dumbledore said as he handed the parchment to Harry. "Should you fail to find an alternative, the first task is scheduled for November the twenty-fourth. It will take place in front of the judges and the other students."

"So I've got three weeks then," Harry said, turning away. He could only hope it would be enough time.

It took a day and a half for Harry to hear back from one of the wizarding historians suggested by Professor Dumbledore, and another two days before the wizard agreed to research the subject for him. Harry was hopeful that the man would find something before the first task, but not optimistic.

"You know, it's not that bad," Row said tentatively they sat in the library later that week. "It's just a silly tournament, after all."

"A silly tournament?" Said Padma, aghast. "It's a lot more than that, Row. The winner of the tournament will be famous, historic even. I'd say it's a very big deal."

"Thanks Padma," Row said sarcastically. "It's not like I was trying to cheer him up or anything."

Padma had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry?"

Row shook her head in exasperation. "Look, all I'm saying is that it's not the end of the world," she continued. "You can do anything Cedric can do, so what's the worst that can happen?"

"I guess that's true," Harry admitted. "But it's not the tournament itself I'm worried about. Somebody put me in the tournament, and I want to know why."

"Well, I think it's barbaric that they can make you compete against your will," said Hermione. She looked at Harry. "Have you heard anything about that, by the way?"

"The historian I talked to said it might take some time," Harry replied. "It turns out that one of the main reasons Crouch looked at the last tournament for guidelines is that nobody knows for sure what the original rules were." He snorted. "Even the historians don't know. I just hope this guy knows where he can find out."

"You should sue," said Hermione.

Row looked at her questioningly. "Can you do that in the wizarding world? Sue somebody?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but if you can, you should, Harry. This is basically the definition of negligence."

"Our courts don't really work that way," Padma said hesitantly. "The system is a lot older-"

"Archaic, you mean," Row muttered.

Padma glared. "I was going to say traditional."

"Both essentially the same thing, right?" Hermione broke in diplomatically. "The wizarding world prides itself on its old customs and traditions, which means that we can go to school at a place like Hogwarts that has been around for a thousand years, but it also means that most of the governing bodies are very outdated."

"The tournament rules are more than just outdated, I think," Harry said wryly.

Hermione shrugged. "Like I said, 900 years of negligence."

"And of course Harry has to find out the hard way," said Row.

"You know, at first I didn't believe it when Row said you didn't want to compete," Padma said slowly. "I mean, why not? Half the school would kill to be in your position."

"It's more likely somebody is hoping I'll get killed by being in this position," Harry corrected her. "Like I said before, someone put a lot of effort into entering me in the tournament. Do you really think they did it so that I would enjoy myself, or for any other good reason?"

Padma thought about that for a moment. "I see your point."

"I think eet is cowardice," said a Beauxbatons girl who had been eavesdropping. "Of course, I can see why. You 'ave no chance against ze likes of Krum and Delacour."

Padma and Hermione glared, but Row laughed. "He's got a better chance than you. At least he's in the tournament."

The French girl flushed and opened her mouth to say something before stomping away angrily.

"Jealous bint," Row muttered. "You know, I haven't met a single Beauxbatons girl who wasn't completely stuck up. Why is that?"

"At least she's not a veela like the other one," said Padma.

"I can't believe you'd say something so blatantly prejudicial!" Hermione exclaimed. "Just because she's part veela doesn't mean she's evil."

Padma shook her head. "You don't understand, Hermione. A veela's only purpose is to seduce and destroy men, they don't know how to do anything else."

"How do you know that?" Row asked skeptically.

"Everybody knows that," Padma answered confidently. "It's common knowledge."

"Sounds more like unfounded prejudice to me," said Hermione. "The same kind of thing most muggleborns face." Padma looked slightly abashed at that, but refused to back down. "Well, in any case-"

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned to find boy in a Durmstrang uniform holding an envelope. "Yes?"

"I vas instructed to give dis to you." He held out the envelope to Harry, who took. With a bow, the boy turned and left.

"That was strange," Harry mused, turning the letter over in his hand. "It feels like it's enchanted."

"Enchanted how?" Padma asked. "Like a portkey?"

"Only the headmaster can make portkeys in and out of Hogwarts," Row and Hermione said together. They looked at each in surprise before they both started laughing.

"That was just weird," said Padma.

"I keep telling you to read Hogwarts: A History," Row teased gently. "Then maybe you wouldn't feel left out."

Meanwhile, Harry had opened the letter and was reading it thoughtfully.

"Well," Row said impatiently. "What does it say?"

"It's a dinner invitation," Harry answered, clearly puzzled. "It says that I'm invited to a dinner with the other champions that will be hosted on the Durmstrang ship tomorrow night."

"I hope you vill attend," came the voice of Viktor Krum as he emerged from behind the nearest bookshelf. "It vould be nice to know each other better before ve face one another in de tournament, yes?"

"I'm actually trying to find a way for me to not compete in the tournament," Harry answered honestly. "Someone else put my name in the goblet and I'd rather not find out why."

Krum shrugged. "Still, you may end up competing, no?" Harry nodded grudgingly. "Den vat harm vill it be?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "I'll think about it."

"Of course," said Krum, bowing. He turned to leave and Harry could have sworn that his eyes flashed towards Hermione for a moment, but he couldn't be sure.

"That was a little strange," Row said when he had gone. "Did anybody else notice how he seemed to materialize right behind us?"

"He does that all the time," Hermione said matter-of-factly. At her friends astonished looks, she flushed slightly. "He's in the library a lot and I never see him come in, that's all I meant."

"Sure it is," Row said knowingly. "Looks like Hermione has a bit of a celebrity crush."

Hermione blushed bright red. "I-I most certainly do not!"

Row laughed. "Oh, calm down, I was only kidding." She smirked. "Maybe."

"So are you going to go to the dinner, Harry?" Hermione asked, trying to change the subject.

Row shot her a speculative look, but let it go. "Well, I think it sounds cool," she said. "Even if you quit the tournament, you might as well get some perks while you can, right?"

Hermione looked at Row disapprovingly, but Harry just shrugged. "We'll see." The conversation lapsed after that and the group went back to studying. A short time later, Cedric Diggory entered the library and made his way over to their table.

"Hey Harry, hey girls," he said, flashing a smile at the group before looking at Harry. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Harry answered as he got up and followed Cedric out into the hallway. "What's up?"

"Did you get an invitation from Karkaroff about a dinner tomorrow night?"

Harry nodded. "Just got it, actually. You too?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure I want to go though," said Cedric. "I don't know how much you know about Karkaroff, but he's not exactly one of the good guys."

"Yeah, I heard he was a big time Death Eater but got off because they couldn't prove anything," said Harry.

"My dad said the same thing," Cedric replied. "But I don't want it to look like I'm scared by not going, we are representing the whole school, after all."

"No, you're representing the whole school," Harry corrected. "I'm still hoping to get out of this thing."

"Well, you're not going to be out of it by tomorrow, so we're in the same boat," Cedric said reasonably. "What do you think?"

"I'm going to ask Sirius what he knows about it. If the invitation is legitimate and it's an official event, I'm sure some of the teachers will be there."

"You're probably right, I'll ask Sprout," said Cedric. Suddenly he smirked. "I'd tell you to ask your head of house, but…" He trailed off.

Harry snorted. "Maybe that's not a bad idea. I'll ask Snape and just do the opposite of whatever he suggests." He looked back into the library and saw that Ginny Weasley had joined Row, Padma, and Hermione, who were now all giggling to each other. He sighed. Cedric saw this and chuckled.

"Honestly, I don't know how you do it, Harry. Studying with all girls?" He shook his head. "Bad enough that most of them are Ravenclaws and probably discuss every little detail of an assignment, but then you have the giggle factor. Doesn't that get on your nerves?"

"Honestly," Harry answered. "Yes. This year, at least. Last year it wasn't bad, but lately, well…" He trailed off looking frustrated. "She's my sister, and it's my job to keep her safe and know how she's doing, but she's got a lot of friends now and sometimes I feel like I'm intruding, or like she'll want to say something but doesn't want to say it in front of me."

"But really that's a good thing, right?" Cedric asked, also observing the group. "I know a little about how you guys used to live, always hiding, looking over your shoulder, that kind of thing. Now that things have settled down Row can make real friends and be herself, which was the goal to being with, am I right?"

"You're right," Harry agreed. "I like seeing her happy, and it's a small price to pay."

"It's really not surprising when you look at her friends," said Cedric. "Face it Harry, your sister is probably the most popular girl in her year, and as much as it may hurt to admit, she's growing up." Suddenly he chuckled. "I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but when girls hit Row's age there is a drastic increase in the amount of whispering and giggling that starts going on. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience." He paused for a moment. "Of course, it's also possible that all her friends have giant crushes on you."

Harry groaned. "Not you, too. That's what Blaise always says."

Cedric shrugged. "Well, you have to admit it's possible."

"I suppose," Harry admitted grudgingly. "I still think Row would say something if that was the case, though."

"Maybe she promised not to," Cedric replied. "Anyway, I've gotta run, and it looks like your study group is breaking up." Harry looked back and saw the girls were gathering up their supplies. "Anyway, I'll talk to Sprout tonight and find you at breakfast tomorrow. You can tell me what Sirius said and we'll decide where to go from there, sound good?" Harry nodded and made his way back towards the study table while Cedric walked up the hallway.

"Hey Harry," Row said as he approached. "The girls and I are going to meet up with Ginny and some other people in the Gryffindor common room." She looked at him apologetically. "You could come, but…"

"But it probably wouldn't be a good idea," Harry finished for her. "That's ok, have fun." Row smiled and gave him a hug before following her friends out of the library. Harry said goodbye to Padma and Hermione as well and waited for the group to exit before retaking his seat at the table to continue his reading.

Later that evening Harry was sitting in the Slytherin common room discussing switching spells with Tracey and Blaise when Daphne Greengrass sat down across from him.

"Hey guys," she said to Harry and Tracey before smirking at Blaise. "Zabini."

It was her usual greeting, mostly because she knew it annoyed Blaise, even if he didn't show it. As usual, Blaise ignored her.

"Always so impolite," Daphne chided, still smirking. She turned to Harry. "Any progress with the potion?"

Harry frowned. "Unfortunately, no. I'm probably not going to have a lot of time to work on it, either."

"I figured as much, what with the tournament and all," Daphne replied sympathetically. "Speaking of which, I heard you get to have dinner on the Durmstrang ship tomorrow. At least that should be nice."

"I thought you weren't sure if you were going," Tracey said, turning to Harry.

"I wasn't," Harry replied. "But it turns out the invitation is legit, and Dumbledore's going to be there himself along with Madame Maxime." At Tracey's questioning look, he shrugged. "I asked Sirius about it."

"Too bad Moody isn't going," said Blaise. "With him and Karkaroff in the same room you'd get dinner and a show."

"I think it's really too bad they don't like each other," Daphne said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind seeing how they teach Defense at Durmstrang."

"Are you sure about that?" Tracey asked. "I hear the instruction there is brutal."

"They learn a lot more though, too," Daphne replied. "It's hard, but at least they don't have to wait until their fourth year to learn a decent curse. Merlin, we haven't even been taught a shield charm yet!"

"Is Durmstrang that much better?" Harry asked skeptically.

"They let their students use dark arts in class duels," Blaise broke in. "It's brutal, but it's also great motivation to improve your skills."

"Class duels?" Harry asked, confused.

"Most schools have a dueling club," Tracey explained. "Hogwarts used to have one, but it got abandoned for one reason or another. The Defense Professor in our second year actually tried to start one up, but he was a pretty incompetent teacher so the idea didn't stick."

"Does Beauxbatons have a dueling club?"

Tracey nodded. "Yep. Although theirs is a lot more formal, and they don't allow dark arts."

"In other words, Diggory better hope one of the tasks isn't dueling," Blaise said, grinning. "Otherwise Krum and Delacour will wipe the floor with him."

"Harry would have to fight too, you know," Tracey pointed out.

"Yeah, but something tells me Potter can take care of himself," Blaise answered. "And that's only if he can't find a way out of the contract."

"Hear hear," Harry muttered.

"Well, I still think Hogwarts could learn a thing or two from Durmstrang when it comes to Defense," said Daphne. "It's too bad Dumbledore probably wouldn't allow it."

"Should he?" Harry asked, looked at Daphne intently. "Their headmaster is a Death Eater, after all."

"Have you actually met Headmaster Karkaroff, Harry?" Daphne asked. Harry shook his head. "Well, you should meet him before you say something like that. There's a reason he was still able to become the headmaster of Durmstrang, despite his reputation."

"Reasons that may or may not include the imperious curse," joked Blaise.

"That rather ironic coming from you, Zabini," said Daphne. "Your father's known him for some time, hasn't he?"

"My father knows a lot of people," Blaise said nonchalantly. "Karkaroff certainly isn't the only public figure that used to follow the Dark Lord."

"Sharing family secrets, Zabini?" Daphne quipped.

"Your family secrets, maybe," Blaise fired back. "By the way, how's your father?"

"Ok, that's enough," Harry interrupted sharply.

"Don't look at me," Daphne said innocently. "I just came over here to ask you about the dinner." She glared at Blaise for a moment before turning back to Harry. "You know, it's not surprising that people are afraid to approach you considering how Zabini jumps all over anybody who gets close. I was only trying to help." With a hurt look on her face, she turned and walked back across the common room.

"Trying to help Karkaroff, maybe," Blaise muttered at her retreating back. "I don't know why you even let her speak, Potter."

"I have my reasons," Harry replied. Blaise looked at him questioningly for a moment but said nothing, silently turning back to his book.

The next evening after his last class, Harry met up with Sirius in his teacher's quarters to prepare for the dinner.

"What am I supposed to wear?" Harry asked, opening his trunk.

"I'd go with your dress robes," Sirius answered. "Although since Dumbledore is going, you can probably wear just about anything and look normal if you sit next to him."

Thinking of the bright purple robes the headmaster had worn that day, Harry had to agree.

"So, what do you know about Karkaroff and Durmstrang in general?" Harry asked as he dressed.

"Not much that you don't already know," Sirius answered ruefully. "We thought he was the one that led the attack on the Prewetts in the first war, but we couldn't prove it. I don't know how he got off after the war, since I was, well, you know."

"Supposedly he testified under veritaserum that he'd never led an attack for Voldemort," said Harry. "And nobody every actually saw him, so they had to let him go. That's the story I got, anyway." He snorted. "Maybe I'll ask him."

Sirius looked at him worriedly. "Maybe I should go with you…" He said hesitantly.

"I'll be fine," Harry assured his godfather. "I promise. It's not like he's going to try something with Dumbledore and the other champions there."

"I suppose," Sirius said, although he didn't look convinced.

"Trust me, Sirius, I'll be fine."

Sirius nodded reluctantly and Harry attached the Slytherin crest to his dress robes before making his way to the entrance hall to meet Dumbledore and the other champions. When he arrived, he found everyone else waiting for him.

"Well then," Dumbledore said when he arrived. "Shall we be off?"

The group made their way slowly across the grounds with Dumbledore leading the way. Fleur and Madame Maxime followed together, speaking to each other in French, and Harry brought up the rear with Cedric. When they arrived at the Durmstrang ship, they made their way up the long gangplank onto the main deck, where they were greeted by a group of students dressed in their school uniforms. The students ushered them down a flight of stairs and into a long, elegantly decorated hallway that was lined with portraits of previous Durmstrang headmasters and famous alumni. The atmosphere was very formal, especially in comparison to Hogwarts, as each portrait was surrounded by elaborate gold trim ornately carved with the crest or crests of its occupants. There appeared to be no other rooms at this end of the ship, so Harry assumed that the living quarters were in another section. As they walked, Harry came to the conclusion that the lower decks had obviously been magically expanded, as he was quite sure they would have already walked out the back of the ship otherwise.

At the end of the hallway there was a pair of large wooden doors inlaid with the Durmstrang crest. When they reached the doors, the Durmstrang students turned to Harry's group and took their coats before opening the double doors to reveal a large, formal dining area, complete with a crystal chandelier hanging overhead. Karkaroff was standing at the head of a very large table which was placed in the center of the room, with Viktor Krum standing to his right.

"Thank you everyone, for coming," Karkaroff said as they entered. He motioned for everyone to sit down and took his own seat at the head of the table. Cedric and Harry took seats along the right side of the table with Krum, while Madame Maxime and Fleur sat across from them and Dumbledore sat at the far end of the table opposite Karkaroff. "Let me take this opportunity to congratulate our worthy champions and wish them the best of luck in the months to come," Karkaroff continued, raising his glass in tribute. "I hope you all take this opportunity to learn a little more about each other in relaxing environment. Please, enjoy."

Harry's eyes flashed to Dumbledore as a number of Durmstrang students began to serve the meal. The Hogwarts headmaster was smiling politely, but his eyes never left his Durmstrang counterpart.

"So, Miss Delacour," Karkaroff said cordially. "What do you think of Hogwarts so far?"

Fleur smiled condescendingly. "Eet is ok, I suppose, but certainly eet is not a match for the beauty of Beauxbatons."

Dumbledore chuckled. "In this case I think you may find that beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder Miss Delacour," he said, eyes twinkling at her merrily. "By the end of your time here, you might be surprised."

"I can't imagine going to school anywhere else," Cedric said honestly. "No offense to our guests, but I'd never want to go anywhere but Hogwarts."

"A very loyal sentiment," said Karkaroff. "But then, that is what the Hufflepuff house is known for, is it not?"

Cedric nodded. "It is."

"A noble quality, to be sure," said Karkaroff. "I look forward to seeing how well they teach you at Hogwarts these days." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I hope they teach you well, for Mr. Potter's sake. It is no small disadvantage he faces competing against students so much older than him."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, inclining his head slightly. Harry noted with interest that his eyes were no longer twinkling. "Mr. Potter will simply have to do his best, as will the other champions."

"Of course," said Karkaroff agreeably. "But given the curriculum at Hogwarts, I can't help but wonder if he has the necessary tools to complete the task ahead of him."

"He is sitting right here," Harry said irritably. "And he is still trying to fix the mess that the rest of you created by agreeing to a tournament without looking at the rules first. Hopefully he will find a way to remove himself from the competition before the first task."

"Such impudence," Madame Maxime said, harrumphing loudly.

Karkaroff considered Harry for a moment before nodding seriously. "I apologize for speaking above you, Mr. Potter, I meant no disrespect. I was merely wondering if the rather limited nature of teaching at Hogwarts would be a hindrance to you."

"I'm not sure what you mean," said Harry, looked at Karkaroff questioningly.

"Our students are quite happy with the curriculum here, Igor," Dumbledore broke in, leveling a steely gaze at Karkaroff. "And more importantly, so are their parents."

"Parents are often fools," countered Karkaroff. "It is our responsibility to see that our students learn the ways of magic, no more and no less."

"Ah, but part of being a wizard is learning how to use that power responsibly," said Dumbledore. "A lesson some students refuse to learn."

"Perhaps they simply learn it differently," Karkaroff replied. Suddenly he smiled apologetically to the rest of the table. "An old argument, I'm afraid. Headmaster Dumbledore doesn't believe his students capable of handling the more powerful branches of magic, at least not until they have properly learned their responsibility to their fellow wizards."

"Dark magic is not more powerful, Igor, only more dangerous," Dumbledore said sagely.

"You are quite wrong," Karkaroff replied in the same tone. Harry had to repress a snort at that, since the last statement sounded exactly like something Dumbledore would say. "In any case," Karkaroff continued, turning to Harry. "In the event that you do remain in the tournament, Mr. Potter, how do you think you will fare against your competitors?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't a clue."

"He should not be in the tournament at all!" Madame Maxime muttered.

"Well, I for one think Harry has a pretty valid point," Cedric spoke up. "It certainly isn't fair to make him compete against his will just because somebody made a mistake with the Goblet of Fire. If I were him, I'd be mad too."

"We can only hope a solution can be found," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "One that satisfies us all." He chuckled. "And I wouldn't count our Mr. Potter out yet. He is quite advanced for a fourth year student."

Madame Maxime sniffed. "Fleur Delacour is ze finest student I 'ave ever taught," she said, looking her student fondly. "There will be no surprises."

"Indeed, I have heard of Miss Delacour's exploits," Karkaroff said, eyeing the young woman shrewdly. "The first sixth year student to ever receive the coveted Vilfor Achievement Award, no?"

Madame Maxime nodded proudly. "And ze first two time winner, after zis year."

"Madame is too kind," said Fleur. She smiled at the rest of the table and immediately Harry felt the first traces of veela charm. He narrowed his eyes and glared just as Fleur's gaze reached him, and he was surprised to see a look of embarrassment flash across her face and felt the veela charm stop abruptly. Next to Harry, Cedric was looking around confusedly.

"Your father must be quite proud," Dumbledore said, smiling gently in Fleur's direction. At the mention of her father, Fleur's whole demeanor softened, but only for a moment. "It is, after all, quite an honor."

"Eet is ze highest honor in France," Madame Maxime declared. "Miss Delacour is already well beyond the standard seventh year material in nearly all subjects, and will no doubt receive the award again this year." She beamed at Fleur.

"A most impressive feat," said Karkaroff. "We have a similar award at Durmstrang, though it is far less public. Viktor has a good chance of earning the honor himself."

The rest of the table looked at Krum, whose only response was a surly nod.

"They sound like parents bragging about their children," Cedric whispered to Harry as Madame Maxime and Karkaroff discussed the merits of their respective country's awards. Harry could tell that his friend was a little nervous, but he was hiding it well.

"I think they're trying to show Dumbledore up with their students' accomplishments," Harry whispered back. "Either that, or they're trying to intimidate you."

"Eet is impolite to whisper like zat," Fleur interrupted from across the table. "What is so important?"

Looking up, Harry noticed that all eyes were fixed on the two of them. Next to him, Cedric squirmed and opened his mouth to respond but Harry beat him to it.

"I apologize, we meant no disrespect," he said politely. "We were merely wondering about Headmaster Karkaroff's earlier statements regarding Hogwarts having a limited curriculum in comparison to other schools."

Karkaroff regarded Harry thoughtfully for a moment before his eyes flashed to Dumbledore and he shook his head slightly. "Another time, perhaps, Mr. Potter," he said finally. "I don't believe it is proper dinner conversation."

Harry nodded and turned back to his food. It was obvious that the Durmstrang Headmaster didn't want to continue the discussion in front of Dumbledore, who was still observing the situation silently. Considering that it had been Karkaroff who had brought up the topic in the first place, Harry could only assume that the two headmasters had some sort of battle of wills over whether or not to discuss the issue, and that Dumbledore had won.

"So, Miss Delacour," said Cedric with a friendly smile. "What can you tell us about Beauxbatons?"

The group continued to make small talk throughout the rest of the meal and through dessert, mostly about the differences between the schools and each champions various achievements. Fleur, it turned out, was nothing short of a prodigy, and had chosen to stay in school for her seventh year only to take private classes with the Beauxbatons instructors. Harry watched as Madame Maxime expounded yet another of the blond girl's virtues, and he had to admit that the part-veela was rather interesting. She was obviously fiercely proud of herself and her achievements, but there was something strange that would come over her every time she looked at Harry, Cedric, or occasionally Krum. She hadn't released her Veela charm since the beginning of dinner, but it was obvious to Harry that she was concentrating very hard on something while talking to him and Cedric, and by the middle of the meal it was clear that she was actively avoiding eye contact with both of them. What Harry didn't know was why.

"Well, I do believe it is getting rather late," Karkaroff said once the dessert dishes were cleared. "I hope this was an enlightening experience for our champions. Good luck to you all." With that, Harry and the others were ushered out of the Durmstrang ship and back out onto the Grounds.

"Do you know where the Beauxbatons students are staying?" Cedric asked in a whisper as they walked back toward the castle.

"Not a clue," Harry replied. "A separate wing in the castle, maybe?"

"Wherever it is, I wouldn't mind finding out, know what I mean?" Cedric asked with a goofy grin. "She's really something, huh?" Suddenly he frowned. "You don't think that's just the veela charm talking, do you?"

Harry shook his head no. "Actually, I'm pretty sure she didn't use it at all during dinner," he admitted. "I don't know why."

"Really?" Cedric looked slightly relieved. "That's good to know." He smiled ruefully. "Doesn't it make it any easier to talk to her though."

"If you're asking for advice, you've got the wrong guy," said Harry. "Jack's the one you should be talking to."

"Can't do it," Cedric replied, smiling. "He'd go straight for her."

Harry snorted. "No wonder she doesn't like me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Just that Jack's girls and I don't really get along," Harry said, shrugging.

Cedric just chuckled in reply as the group began to ascend the castle steps.

"Looks like that answers your question," Harry said, looking ahead to where Fleur and Madame Maxime were making their way into the castle. Dumbledore handed them a piece of parchment and the two walked up the nearest staircase and disappeared.

"So they are staying in the castle," Cedric mused. "That could be good."

Harry shrugged. "Or bad, depending on what happens."

Cedric laughed. "Very true. See you tomorrow, Harry." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and started up the nearest set of stairs that led to the Hufflepuff common room. Harry gave the grounds one last look before he turned and made his way down the familiar halls leading to the Slytherin dungeons.

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Two days later at breakfast Harry received a reply from the wizarding historian he had contacted about the tournament.

Mr. Potter,

As per your request, I have located the original rules for the Triwizard Tournament and the Goblet of Fire. The full rules are enclosed should you wish to examine them yourself. With regard to your specific questions:

- Any champion chosen by the Goblet of Fire is magically bound to compete unless he is pardoned by the current head of the Grey Council. The Grey Council was a primitive governing body that was abolished in the 14th century, therefore there is no way for you to withdraw from the tournament without breaking the contract.

- The magical contract you entered into with the Goblet of Fire is binding. If you break the contract, you will receive the Macula Ignavus, or Stain of Cowardice, most commonly referred to as the Coward's Mark. The Macula Ignavus leaves a physical mark on the recipient's face, the exact form of which I have not yet found, although it is said to be permanent and completely resistant to all forms of removal, magic or otherwise. It was a mark of extreme dishonor in ancient wizarding cultures, so much so that it was decided that anyone bearing the mark was unworthy of learning the ways of magic. Therefore, every school that was founded before 1472 has written in its bylaws a restriction against accepting any student that bears the mark. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang all have this restriction. The Salem institute, having been founded later, does not. Therefore, the statement that you would be unable to receive a wizarding education should you break the contract was technically correct if one considers only Hogwarts and the European schools.

My advice to you would be to simply compete in the tournament. The contract itself says nothing about the effort the champions must give, only that they must participate. Depending on the tasks, it may be feasible for you to simply show up and wait them out. A second option would be to convince the Hogwarts Board of Governors to amend the school's bylaws, since the restriction is certainly antiquated.

Should you have any other questions, feel free to contact me at your earlier convenience.

Sincerely,

Thomas Moore

"What the hell is all that, Potter?" Blaise asked, pointing to the stack of parchment.

"It's a letter from the historian I contacted about the tournament," Harry replied, frowning. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the Macula Ignavus, or Coward's Mark?"

Blaise shook his head. "No, should I have?"

"Probably not," Harry muttered. "Apparently that's what I get if I break the contract with the Goblet of Fire." He grabbed the papers in front of him and looked toward the head table. "I have to talk to Dumbledore, I'll see you guys in class." With that, he stood and walked purposefully toward the headmaster.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he approached. In answer, Harry simply tossed the letter from the historian on the table in front of him. Dumbledore read the letter and sighed heavily.

"I had hoped it would be better news," the headmaster said sympathetically, looking up at Harry.

"You and I both," Harry muttered. "What do you know about this Macula Ignavus?"

"Only what is already written here, I'm afraid," Dumbledore replied. "The mark went out of favor many centuries ago, and I'm not quite that old."

Harry ignored the joke and exhaled heavily. "So I'm pretty much stuck then. Break the contract and get some unknown mark, or be a champion."

"If you still wish to withdraw, I will convene the board of governors to amend the bylaws immediately," Dumbledore offered.

"I'd rather not have a strange mark permanently burned onto my face, actually," Harry said sarcastically. "So I'll participate in the damn tournament, but I want those bylaws changed anyway, in case I change my mind. I want something done with Crouch and the Ministry, as well, to make sure this doesn't happen again."

Dumbledore nodded. "It will be done. Once again I apologize, Harry."

Harry just snorted and turned to make his way out of the Great Hall.

It took a few days for the school rumor mill to confirm that Harry Potter would definitely be competing in the Triwizard Tournament despite his earlier objections; a fact that seemed to prove many of his skeptics right.

"I knew 'e was lying," one of the Beauxbatons students said to another as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts. "'E entered himself in ze tournament, zere is no doubt."

Overhearing this, Row growled and turned to say something when she felt a hand on her arm.

"Let it go," Harry told her calmly. "We'll see if they're still saying that after the first task."

Row turned to her brother with a confused look on her face. "What have you got planned, Harry?"

Harry grinned. "I said I'd participate, but I never said I'd compete."

Row laughed. "Oh, this could be good."

"What could be good?" Padma asked as she approached with Hermione.

"Harry's got something good planned for the first task," Row answered. "He won't tell me what it is though."

"How can you already have something planned?" Hermione asked. "Did they tell you what it is already?"

Harry shook his head. "They haven't, but it doesn't matter."

Row giggled. "Oh, this should be good. I can't wait to see the look on their snooty French faces."

"I'm still confused," said Hermione.

Padma nodded. "Me too, but I think that's about all we're going to get. Library?"

"Actually, I can't," Harry said hesitantly. "I have to get back to the dungeons. You guys go ahead, though."

Row looked at him funny for a moment before shrugging. "Ok, let's go girls."

Harry waited until they disappeared behind the nearest corner before he turned to walk the opposite direction. As he was approaching the stairs leading to the Slytherin dungeons he was stopped by a voice from behind him.

"Mr. Potter," the voice called. Harry turned to see Igor Karkaroff approaching him. "I hoped I would run into you," he said, stopping a short distance from Harry. "I just wanted to apologize personally, Mr. Potter," Karkaroff continued. "I just recently learned how seriously we wronged you by not examining the rules in proper depth."

Harry eyed the Durmstrang headmaster warily. "I appreciate your saying so," he said slowly. "But you're not the only one at fault."

Karkaroff nodded. "True, but that is not an excuse." He looked at Harry apologetically. "I also hear that the Hogwarts governors are refusing to amend the bylaws regarding the Macula Ignavus." He shook his head. "You have my sympathies."

Surprise flickered across Harry's face for a moment, and Karkaroff knew that Dumbledore had failed to mentioned that bit of news.

"I see Dumbledore didn't tell you," Karkaroff continued. "Perhaps he simply has not found the time. But let me assure you, Mr. Potter, if you decide to withdraw from the tournament and take the mark, Durmstrang will still be happy to have you. We would not let an obsolete rule prevent us from properly educating such a promising student." He paused and looked at Harry thoughtfully. "I doubt that Hogwarts will make the same promise."

"Durmstrang has the same restriction as Hogwarts," Harry replied skeptically. "How do you know?"

"You will find, Mr. Potter, that the students and faculty at Durmstrang take their responsibilities much more seriously than their Hogwarts counterparts." He held up a hand to forestall Harry's question. "Not to say that your teachers are not serious about their jobs. But rather, what they consider teaching, we consider a poor attempt at a proper wizarding education. You remember the conversation we had at dinner about our ship?" Harry nodded. "At Durmstrang, we believe that all wizards, regardless of birth or blood, should be held to certain standards, and that those who lack either the power or the discipline to attain those standards aren't fit to be fully qualified adults in our society." He shrugged slightly. "It is an old argument, and your headmaster is quite opposed to that view."

"How so?" Harry asked curiously. He was still on his guard, watching Karkaroff for any sudden or strange moves, but he was also interested in what the man had to say.

Karkaroff laughed mirthlessly. "Dumbledore would teach squibs, if he could. He sees magic as a right, I see it as a gift. A mighty gift with unlimited potential, and I teach it as such. I don't believe in limiting a student's education to simply "light" spells and techniques, if you believe in such a thing. For that, Dumbledore and those like him label me a "dark" wizard, because I embrace magic in all its forms." He looked at Harry intently. "I embrace power, Mr. Potter, nothing more and nothing less. Tell me, how often have you been forced to sit through a lesson in which you had already mastered the material, simply because the majority of your classmates are struggling? Once? Twice? Daily?" He shook his head. "That is the problem, you see. By accepting any student with even a trickle a magical ability, you hold back those students that have the potential to become truly powerful wizards. Wizards like you, Mr. Potter."

"You seem to be assuming an awful lot about me," Harry said slowly. "How do you know I'm not just an average wizard?"

Karkaroff smiled. "I know potential when I see it, Mr. Potter. Unlike Dumbledore, I take my responsibility to our future generations seriously."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How so?"

"Albus Dumbledore is currently the most powerful wizard in the world," said Karkaroff. "He is the strongest not only in raw magic, but also in the knowledge and application of magic, and yet instead of attempting to impart the full extent of his knowledge, he limits the Hogwarts curriculum and expands its admission, resulting in generation after generation of weakening wizards. I can assure you that he did not learn all he did by waiting until his fifth year to learn a proper shield charm, Mr. Potter."

"Yet you still deferred to him at the dinner," Harry noted. "Why?"

"I defer to his power and knowledge because it exceeds mine," Karkaroff answered simply. He turned to look out over the grounds. "That may not always be the case."

"Is that why you followed Voldemort?" Harry asked.

Karkaroff whipped his head around to stare at Harry, his eyes cold and menacing. For a moment, Harry thought he had gone too far, but as suddenly as the dark look came, it vanished. Karkaroff continued to stare with an unreadable expression on his face for a moment before he startled Harry by letting out a small chuckle.

"Oh, very good, Mr. Potter," he said, still chuckling. "There are very few who would dare to ask me a question like that. Perhaps I have been too free with my tongue during this conversation?"

Harry shrugged. "I know you were a Death Eater, and you don't sound like a pureblood supremacy advocate, so it was obviously for some other reason. You respect wizards who are more powerful than you, which I assume Voldemort was. Am I missing anything?"

"Strange as it may seem, no," Karkaroff answered warily. "In fact, you are remarkably perceptive," he continued, eyeing Harry shrewdly. "There are many wizards twice your age who lack your insight, and your courage. I think you would do well at Durmstrang, Harry Potter."

Harry shrugged. "Perhaps." He met Karkaroff's gaze. "But you didn't answer the question."

"No, I did not," Karkaroff agreed. "But of course, you didn't really expect me to." Harry just shrugged in response. Karkaroff regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision and reached into his pocket. Harry tensed, subconsciously preparing himself to shift into a defensive stance, but the headmaster only removed a shrunken book before holding it out to Harry.

"I'd like to have this, Mr. Potter," said Karkaroff. "Consider it my way of making amends for what you've been subjected to because of the tournament."

"What is it?" Harry asked, regarding the book warily.

"It's a translated copy of the standard Durmstrang Defense textbook for sixth year students. It contains a number of spells you will not be taught here; spells that any true wizard should know." He looked at Harry seriously. "You have too much potential to simply waste away in these halls, Harry Potter. True magic is unlimited, remember that." He nodded towards the book. "If you have questions about that, I would suggest that you bring them to me, rather than to Dumbledore. He has tried rather hard to keep knowledge like this out of the hands of his students, after all."

Harry looked at Karkaroff for moment before taking the book and placing it in his pocket. Karkaroff turned to leave and made his way back outside onto the grounds, leaving Harry alone to wonder what in the hell had just happened.

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Harry spent the next day casting every detection charm he knew of on the book he'd gotten from Karkaroff, but found nothing out of the ordinary. For all intents and purposes, it was nothing more than an ordinary book, and Harry resolved that he would take a look at it later that night. He was considering where he would try to read it during the middle of his potions class when the door to the classroom was suddenly opened and a very scared looking young Gryffindor walked in and asked for him. Assuming it had something to do with the tournament, Harry packed up his supplies and followed the boy out of the room.

"What's this for?" He asked once they were out of the classroom.

"It's, uh, pictures," the boy replied, caught between being awestruck and terrified. "For the Daily Prophet, I think."

Harry frowned, but said nothing as they continued their way upstairs.

They arrived at an empty classroom that had been cleared out to leave a large empty space in the middle. As he entered, Harry saw that Ludo Bagman was in the corner talking to a woman he didn't recognize while Cedric was chatting with Fleur Delacour in the center of the room. There was also a man with a small black camera seated in the corner who was trying to look casual and failing miserably, as he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of Fleur. As Harry walked in, Cedric saw him and waved.

"What's all this about?" Harry asked, making his way over toward the Hufflepuff.

"Something about our wands," Cedric replied, shrugging. "I'm not sure what-"

"Ah, here he is! Champion number four!" A loud voice suddenly interrupted. Harry turned to see Ludo Bagman bounding towards him smiling jovially.

"Nothing to worry about, Harry, nothing at all," the large man said, clapping a hand on Harry's back. "Just the wand weighing ceremony. We have to be sure your wands are fully functional, you know, since they'll be your most important tool in the tasks ahead. Afterwards they'll be a short photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter, by the way," Bagman indicated an older witch wearing bright magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…"

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, eyeing Harry speculatively. She was a short woman, with a narrow face that contrasted sharply with her elaborately curled hair. She obviously spent a great deal of time on her appearance, and Harry couldn't help but think that the time could have been spent much more productively.

"I wonder if I could have a word with Harry before we start?" She asked Bagman. "The youngest champion, you know…. to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" Exclaimed Bagman. "If Harry has no objection?"

Harry opened his mouth but was cut off by Skeeter.

"Lovely," she said, grabbing Harry by the arm. She'd taken less than half a step before she suddenly lost her grip as Harry twisted his body slightly, leaving her hand grasping nothing but air.

"I never agreed to an interview," Harry said curtly. He narrowed his eyes at Skeeter. "And I'll thank you to keep your hands off of me."

Rita smiled sweetly. "Come now, Harry, there's nothing to be afraid of," she said. "Just a little background information, how you're feeling, that sort of thing. The public has a right to know."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "No they don't. I'm not supposed to be in the tournament at all. Somebody put my name in and made sure it got picked, and now if I quit I end up with some permanent magical mark on my face. You want to print something about me? Print that." Next to Harry, Cedric was grinning and Fleur was looking at him strangely.

"Whoa, not a fan of the press, eh Harry?" Bagman broke in jokingly. "That's all right, I'm sure he'll warm up to you Rita," he said, turning to put his arm around the reporter. "Now, did I ever tell you about the time…"

Bagman led off a visibly disgruntled Rita Skeeter and Cedric finally let out the laugh he'd been holding in.

"Good one Harry," he said, still chuckling. "I don't think she's been told off like that in a while."

"I wasn't trying to tell her off," Harry answered. "If she wants to print anything about me, that's what it should be. None of this "youngest champion" garbage."

"I agree, but that's not really her style," said Cedric. "You don't read the Prophet, do you?"

"I read it occasionally," Harry replied. "But most of it is crap, so I don't read it very often."

"Well, she's had a couple of big articles recently," said Cedric. "The stuff she writes is pretty nasty, and it's always aimed at bringing down somebody who's well-known. I'd be careful if I were you."

Harry shrugged. "They've crucified me before, and they'll crucify me again. I really don't care that much."

Cedric shook his head ruefully and was about to reply when the door to the room opened and the other judges entered, along with Mr. Ollivander.

"Ah, excellent," said Dumbledore as he surveyed the room. "May I present Mr. Ollivander. He will be checking to make sure all your wands are in working order for the tournament."

Harry and rest of the champions nodded before handing their wands to Ollivander one by one. He examined each wand closely, checking for scratches or imperfections, before performing a minor spell. There were no difficulties, and at the end he proclaimed that all the champions' wands were in fine working order.

"Thank you all," Dumbledore said, standing from his seat with the other judges. "You may return to your lessons, or perhaps it simply be quicker to go straight down to dinner-"

Suddenly the man with the camera cleared his throat loudly.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" Ludo Bagman exclaimed suddenly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Yes, yes," Skeeter replied, looking over the group skeptically. Her gaze flicked back to Harry. "Then perhaps some individual shots afterwards."

The photos turned out to be more difficult than anyone had anticipated, mostly because it involved getting Madame Maxime in the same frame as everyone else. When the photographer finally managed, Skeeter insisted that each of the champions be photographed individually.

"Actually, I don't think so," Harry said when she asked. "Like I said, I'm not even supposed to be in the tournament, and I really don't want my picture taken as a champion. Sorry."

"Oh, come now," said Skeeter. "It's just a little photograph, and I'm sure you'll look great." She reached out to grab a hold of Harry and once again found herself grasping empty air.

"That's the second time you've tried to grab me," Harry said, looking at her menacingly. "I told you the first time I didn't appreciate it."

"I never figured you to be so shy, Mr. Potter," Bagman said loudly, chuckling jovially. Harry turned to see that all of the judges and the other champions were watching the scene unfold between him and Skeeter.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not shy, I just don't want my intentions to be misrepresented. I'm a champion because of a freak accident, no more, no less."

"If Mr. Potter does not wish to have his photograph taken, I'm afraid you will have to do without," Dumbledore broke in, smiling benignly at Skeeter.

"Come Harry, are you certain you won't change your mind?" Skeeter asked. Harry saw her eyes flick towards the cameraman for a just a moment, who gave an almost imperceptible nod back.

"If you're thinking of taking a picture without asking me, be warned I'll just destroy your camera," Harry addressed the cameraman. "I saw that little order she just gave you, and I'm warning you: don't do it."

The cameraman looked visibly nervous, and he began to look back and forth between Harry and Skeeter.

"Why Harry, whatever are you talking about?" Skeeter asked sweetly. "We would never do such a thing! I'm hurt you could suggest it."

Harry smirked at her. "Well, just to be sure," he took out his wand and rapped himself on the head. Rita Skeeter gasped as his entire body suddenly seemed to blend into the room around him, and Cedric began to laugh out loud.

"You can take a picture now, if you want," came Harry's disembodied voice. Muttering angrily to herself, Rita turned to focus on the other champions.

Harry kept himself disillusioned and walked over towards the door. He noticed as he did so that both Dumbledore and Karkaroff seemed to have no trouble following his movements, and noted immediately that both must have some ability to see through such a simple disillusionment charm. He wondered if they would also be able to see through his personal invisibility spell, but he didn't want to give away that particular ability yet. The disillusionment charm he'd used could be found in any number of sixth year textbooks, so it wasn't that uncommon for someone his age to be able to cast it. True invisibility, on the other hand, was much more advanced.

When all the photos were taken, Skeeter and the photographer left, and Harry removed the disillusionment charm.

"An impressive little display, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said when he reappeared. "I don't believe Miss Skeeter was quite expecting that level of opposition from you."

"Well, now at least when she trashes me in the Prophet she won't have a picture to go with it," Harry said sarcastically. Cedric laughed again. Next to him, Fleur was looking at Harry quizzically.

"I do not understand," she said slowly. "Why not take ze picture? What can it 'urt?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't want to be advertised as a champion, especially not over Cedric, since he's the real Hogwarts champion. I don't want to be in the damn tournament, and I'd like to keep as low a profile as possible." He paused before continuing. "Also, I don't like her attitude. I think she wants to use me as some kind of poster boy, and I'll be damned if I let that happen."

Fleur smiled. "But eet is good to be popular, no?"

Harry snorted. "Not if you're me."

Fleur's smile changed to confusion, and then to frustration. Suddenly a mask seemed to come down over her face and she shook her head.

"I do not understand you, 'Arry Potter." She said softly. She smiled at Cedric, who smiled back. "I will see you later."

"Ok," Cedric replied, grinning.

The blond girl turned and walked gracefully away, knowing full well there were at least two pairs of eyes following her progress.

Harry and Cedric watched until she turned the corner before turning back to each other.

"Wow," Cedric whistled softly. "You know, I never really believed all the stories you hear about Veela, but I think maybe I do now."

"What, you think she's trying to seduce you?" Harry chuckled. "Not that you'd mind, of course."

"And you would?" Cedric shot back as the two walked out of the room and headed for the Great Hall. "I wasn't the only one checking her out."

"She does look good, I'll give you that," Harry admitted. "Although I actually think she's looks better when she's not using her charm, it's too fake otherwise."

Cedric snorted. "With a body like that, who cares?" Harry laughed and shook his head. "What?"

"You sound just like my brother," said Harry.

"Well, great minds think alike, right?" Cedric replied, grinning.

"Jack's a lot of things, but calling him a great mind might be a stretch," said Harry. "Anyway, I thought you had your eye on Cho Chang, from Ravenclaw."

Cedric nodded. "I do, but we haven't gone out or anything. I was thinking of asking her to Hogsmede before the first task, but I haven't decided yet." He smiled ruefully. "Dating Ravenclaws can be dangerous."

Harry shrugged. "So you say." The two reached the entrance to the Great Hall and started to split up.

"See ya later, Harry," Cedric said as he started toward the Hufflepuff table. Harry grunted a reply before walking over to the Slytherin table and taking a seat next to Blaise.

"What was all that about?" Tracey asked.

Harry explained what had happened at the wand weighing ceremony, including his antics with Rita Skeeter and the photographer.

"You disillusioned yourself?" Tracey said, laughing. "Right there while she was trying to get you to pose?"

Harry nodded. "I really don't like her attitude, either. Of course, I'll probably be rethinking that move when the Prophet comes out tomorrow."

Blaise nodded. "True. They can't have a slimy snake in their perfect little tournament, after all."

Harry frowned. "I don't think it was like that, it was more the fact that I'm the youngest champion and I'm already famous. I think she wanted to turn me into some type of tragic underdog story."

"How sweet," Blaise said sarcastically.

"My sentiments exactly," Harry muttered. "I get the impression that Rita Skeeter is going to find a story to print, whether it has any truth to it or not."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it now," Tracey said reasonably.

"All too true," Harry replied, reaching for a glass of pumpkin juice. "And to tell you the truth, I don't really care." He grinned slightly at Tracey before taking a long drink. With the first task only a week away, Harry figured he should probably be nervous, but he wasn't. What would come, would come, and he had certainly faced much tougher things in his lifetime than a stupid tournament.

Who knows, he thought to himself. It might even be fun.

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A/N Well, the stage is set. Harry will have to participate in the tournament, and yes they will be the same tasks as canon. Of course, his performance will be significantly different, and certain parties may have to take a more active role this time around if they want him to do well…..

Next chapter we see what Harry's got planned for the first task, and how he'll react to the unexpected task of finding a date for the Yule Ball. As always, thanks for reading.