Disclaimer: All of this belongs to JKR.

Chapter 5- Cheating

Is it really so much to ask? Really – all I wanted was a peaceful year with Ron and Hermione, a few good Quidditch matches, maybe a little alone time with Cho Chang. I was so sure that this year all the dangerous, stupid, "heroic" stuff would happen to somebody else. I'm rich, I'm famous – more famous than I ever wanted to be. I didn't enter the Tournament, I probably wouldn't have even if I could. Yeah, it sounded cool, but I was never serious about it!

Now Ron and I are in a row, half the school thinks I'm desperate for attention and the other half still probably thinks I'm the heir of bloody Slytherin. I can't play Quidditch, my best mate won't speak to me, and my neck is on the line as usual.

And I bet Cho hates me now.

- Harry

"Harry Potter."

Dumbledore's voice echoed in the suddenly hushed hall. Everyone looked at Harry, who was frozen in his seat, some with curiosity, some with accusations.

Ari glanced over from where she was seated at the Ravenclaw table. She forced herself to stay calm, focusing on what was happening. She watched closely as Potter– she recognized him from a couple classes– made his way shakily behind the High Table to the doorway her sister and the other two Champions had disappeared into.

As soon as he disappeared as well from sight, frantic whispering and murmurs broke out in the dining hall. Dumbledore himself left the podium, accompanied by Crouch and Bagman, no doubt to question how an underage Gryffindor got himself proclaimed as the fourth Champion. She noted that a few professors followed quickly after– Snape, McGonnagal, and Moody.

"…wants more fame, just like always…"

"…no, just in it for the Galleons…"

"…always knew he was attention-seeking…"

"…remember second year?"

"…yeah, because Harry Potter always gets special treatment…"

"…probably just wants to show off and be a hero again…"

She caught snatches of the frenzied conversations around her. Why all the comments about being attention-seeking? He'd never really stuck out in her mind, but she hadn't been here half a month. And that incident in his second year… I'll have to look into that.

Ari paused and bit her lip. Something felt slightly strange about the whole thing. Potter seemed competent enough in Defence, but she had enough classes with the Gryffindors to know he was mediocre in a few other areas, and downright hapless in Potions (everyone saw Granger's frenzied attempts to salvage her friends' grades every class). Dumbledore was... well, Dumbledore. Even if Potter was sharper than anyone gave him credit for, it took a real leap of logic to believe he crossed that age line without help. Plus he looked absolutely stunned when Dumbledore called his name out, and not a little terrified - like a deer in headlights facing imminent death. He'd immediately turned to his friends, the red-head drooling over Fleur, and the bushy-haired girl she'd torn into during Potions, fixing them with a pleading expression.

But all the other champions had been exultant, proud. So... Either he was playing a part, underselling his abilities, or he had an accomplice. Ari frowned. She hadn't paid as much attention to him as she might have, but he seemed far to transparent to be the former. Or, she realized with a start, he didn't put his name in at all.

She paused. But why? Everyone wanted to be in the Tournament, and Potter could have paid someone to fix the Choosing for him. The Potters were an old, powerful family, he could afford it. Or even just promise someone older a cut of the prize money.

But even if they were old enough to cross the age line... The person in question would have to be incredibly knowledgeable to fool the Goblet into picking a fourth champion – she couldn't even begin to think of anything that would bamboozle an artefact that powerful. Money could be a good motivator, and she could think of no reason to put "Harry Potter" into the Goblet of Fire -

She blinked. Unless someone wants Potter dead.

Ari looked over at the door leading to the antechamber. Harry Potter was a fairly recognizable name, even across the Channel. It was a memorable story after all – baby slays that bad guy. Apparently, a killing curse had rebounded off him and offed the leader of the so-called "Death Eaters." She drummed her fingers on the table, trying to remember what she'd read about it. A blood-purity gang who'd terrorized the mundane-born about fifteen years back. The ICW had been assured it was a thoroughly manageable affair, though it turned out some big names had been involved. Her eyes glanced around the Hall. Someone nursing a grudge? Blood Feuds were rare in Albion, but they destroyed Great Houses once they began. Still... what student could screw with the Goblet? She shook her head. Potter must have hired someone.

But there was still that nagging thought... Well, I'll just have to look into it myself, she decided. It was a, well, roundabout way to kill a kid but – he was a fourth year. If someone wanted to watch him die, there was a pretty good chance they'd get their wish.

Unknown to her, the people gathered in the antechamber were coming to exactly that conclusion.

The door creaked open and a scrawny boy with glasses walked in.

"Are they asking for us?" Fleur asked.

He just shook his head, standing wordlessly on the stair. "I, I'm…"

The door slammed shut behind him. Dumbledore swept furiously into the room, followed by two arguing headmasters.

"… absolutely ridiculous, there is no precedent for – " Karkaroff was saying.

"Now, now, let's all try to remain calm, there's – " A chubby wizard in yellow and black stripes appealed.

Karkaroff rounded on him. "Calm? Mr. Bagman, this is an affront to – "

" – demand the Choosing be redone, this cannot-" Maxine yelled, drowning him out.

"Enough!"

All eyes in the room snapped to Dumbledore. "A fourth Champion has been selected," he said slowly. "Harry Potter of Hogwarts School."

The dark haired boy shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I never – "

"What?" The incredulous words slipped of Fleur's tongue before she had the chance to rethink them. "This little boy will be competing with us?"

The boy started. "Hey, I'm – "

She snorted derisively. "He's going to be slaughtered," she announced tartly.

"Headmaster, surely you can't expect Mr. Potter to compete," an stern-looking old witch began.

Dumbledore ignored her. "Harry. Did you enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

"No, I never – "

"Well, of course. He's not going to confess," Karkaroff scoffed. "But his name was selected and – "

"Do you really think," a grizzled man said from the corner, "that a fourth year could bewitch the Goblet into taking a fourth Champion?"

"No," Maxine answered slowly. "Professor Moody is correct - that would take a far more powerful wizard…" She trailed off, eying Dumbledore suspiciously.

"Maxine, surely you don't think I would endanger a student of mine for – "

"Who else?" Karkaroff sneered. "What motive would anyone have to enter this boy?"

Potter spoke up. "Look, I don't even want to be in this. I didn't put my name in the Goblet - I'll be happy to drop out, really. Can't I just quit?"

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter," Barty Crouch said, rubbing his temples, "that we don't know what the effects of that would be. The rules are clear: anyone chosen is magically bound to complete the Tournament to the best of their abilities."

"And what happens if I decide not to?" Potter asked angrily.

"You die."

Harry drew a breath. "But I didn't actually enter. So the rules shouldn't apply to me, right?" he said with a slight hint of desperation.

Fleur heard Moody's leg, tap-drag, tap-drag, as he stumped across the floor. His electric blue eye stared directly in Harry's bottle greens.

"I wouldn't take that risk if I were you," he said bluntly.

The boy nodded, struggling to keep his composure. "So… what do I need to do?"

Harry stalked through the corridor, doggedly ignoring the glares, whispers, and surreptitious looks. Hermione hurried along beside him, lugging her bag and shooting him a worried glance and other students a glare from time to time.

I never asked to be in this bloody Tournament. Do these people honestly thing I enjoy risking my neck every year?

"Potter," a cool voice called from behind him.

He whirled.

The Beauxbatons girl that was in some of his classes– the one whose sister was Champion– stood there, staring calmly at him. She saw his hand tightening on his wand, but she only seemed amused.

"Relax Potter, I'm not going to curse you."

Harry slipped his hand out but remained cautious. "What do you want?" He asked, half-defensive and half-curious.

"A chat," She inclined her head towards a slightly sheltered alcove around the corner. "Care to talk?" His eyes narrowed slightly and she sighed. "I told you to relax, Potter. I'm not about to lure you into a trap. I just thought, considering the current situation, you might like to talk without about a hundred other ears listening in."

She turned the corner and waited, raising her eyebrows. "Merlin, you're more paranoid than me. Look, Granger can come too, if you want."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked as puzzled as he did. He hesitated, then nodded and stepped into the alcove. What reason would she have had to lie to him? Hermione followed.

"So...err..." Suddenly, Harry felt quite sheepish, confronted with the girl's cool grey eyes. "What was your name again? I'm sorry, I don't quite remember."

She rolled her eyes, but held out her hand. "Ariane Delacour, as I vividly remember telling the two of you in Potions."

He shook it. "Harry Potter."

Delacour smiled wryly, "That I'm aware of, Potter. As is everyone else in the castle."

Hermione fixed her with a glare. "Why are you here, anyway?"

The French girl shrugged. "Curiosity, I suppose. Tell me, did you put your name in the Goblet?"

Harry reddened. "Look, if you're here to accuse me," he began heatedly.

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "This is the third time in the last five minutes I've told you to relax, Potter. I'm not here to waste both my time and yours by repeating accusations we've both already heard."

He scowled. "Not that you'll actually listen, but I never put my name in, as I've told a hund-"

Delacour shrugged carelessly. "Okay."

"And if you think you-," He blinked in shock. "Umm...what?"

She fixed him with a sardonic grin. "Really Potter, you think you'd listen a little closer when someone in this castle 'actually listens.' Let me make myself clearer," she said slowly, as though talking to a child. "I. Believe. You."

"Really? I... wow. Look," he said awkwardly. "Thanks, really. It – I really appreciate this, Delacour. But... isn't your sister Champion? Should you really be, uh, supporting me?"

The corner of her mouth twisted. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. Fleur could take you blindfolded, and you'd probably like it too." She gave him a mischievous grin. "Anyway, you looked too dumbstruck at the feast to have put your name in yourself. Besides," she added dryly, "You're not smart enough to trick Dumbledore or the Goblet and you're definitely not deceptive enough to fool everyone else."

Harry flushed with embarrassment. "Moody reckons it was just a basic Confundus charm. Still... Delacour, thanks," he said earnestly, "You're, er, really not a bad sort."

She eyed his expression for a moment before answering. "See if you think that a month from now. Hey, Granger, we're going to be late for Runes. I'll see you in Potions, Potter."

"It's Harry."

"What?"

"Call me Harry. It's really only ponces like Malfoy who call me Potter."

She paused then smiled again, only this time there was a tint of warmth to it. "Well then, Harry, I believe you should call me Ariane."

He grinned brightly. "Then I'll see you around, Ariane."

As she strode away, Hermione turned on Harry. "Harry, you're not really going to trust her are you? Her sister's the Champion, for God's sake!"

"Well, yeah, but..." Harry squirmed under his friend's imperious gaze. "The whole point of the Tournament is meeting people from other schools, right? Haven't you talked to anyone?"

She flushed suddenly, not answering. Harry ignored her and continued, "Really, she seemed nice enough. More faith in me than even bloody Ron does, that's got to count for something."

"Oh, Harry, I know Ron's being a prat but really, don't you see how calculating she is? It's in her eyes. And, God, she was so condescending."

"Really? I thought they were rather nice eyes," he said absently. "Grey, a lot like – aren't you getting late for Runes?"

Hermione checked her timetable and whitened.

"Run," he suggested with a small laugh.

"Around here, you think?" Fleur said, daintily toeing a line in the grass.

Ari nodded. "Probably. That's where I saw them walking."

"Hmmm…." Fleur ran her wand through the air, casting basic detection spells. "You know, they may have just been taking a walk."

"In here?" Ari waved her hand at the towering trees. "I'm told the Forest is populated by werewolves." She shuddered, tightening her grip on her wand. "And Madame was being particularly loud. That's probably as much of a hint as she could give you."

Her sister frowned. "All the basic patterns came up negative."

"Did you really expect them to be that sloppy?"

"No, unfortunately," Fleur sighed. "We need to try something more specialized."

"What do you think they used?" Ari asked.

"An anti-detection ward? Along with Notice-Me-Not charms and an area-effect concealing illusion."

"Muffling charms as well," Ari added. Fleur nodded absentmindedly, taking out her wand and waved it in an intricate movement, muttering a few phrases under her breath as she paced up and down near where they thought the ward lines might be.

"I talked to Potter today," Ari said, offhand. "He seems to think it would only take a Confundus Charm to screw with the Goblet. I looked it up, it might work, but it would take real power – way beyond any fourth year I know."

"Why would he tell you that?"

"I told him I believed him about not cheating his way into the Tournament."

Fleur was studying the space between two trees. "Do you?" she asked absently.

Her sister shrugged. "Maybe. I'm curious, anyway, and this seemed like a good way to find out. Besides, I'm scouting out your competition."

"Well, what've you learned?"

"There's a girl, Granger, who's always with him, but doesn't like me. Then again, I was... rather harsh the first time we met, so it's not like she doesn't have cause. And I thought he was really tight with a redhead, one of your fan-club, but I haven't seen him around lately, so maybe I was wrong. That, or they had a falling out."

"All of which will be incredibly helpful in a duel, Merle."

Ari shrugged again. "As though you'd need inside information to best him in a fight. Just switch on the charm and watch him melt. Really, Harry's only a fourth year – he's going to be thrashed enough without my help."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Have it your way, but we'd better start digging up info on Krum and Diggory. They've both got the full seven years, you're the one who keeps warning me not to depend on the Allure." She narrowed her eyes, staring at what seemed like empty air.

"Found it," she breathed. Her wand tip tapped the air, revealing a shimmer. Fleur studied it, head cocked, as it started to fade.

"The illusion charms are actually pretty shoddy," she snorted. "Look - there's a glimmer here – faint, but you can find it if you're paying attention. More if you put pressure on it. Whoever cast this, and it seems there were a few, are good enough but hardly the best. Probably warders-in-training, or Merlin forbid, amateurs."

Ari smiled wanly. "Well, places like this, with millennia of Wild Magic running through the wood and soaking into the ground... It'd be hard to hold a ward, even over a small area. Someone like Dumbledore could put wards here, or a really good Wards Master. But even then, the Forbidden Forest is the biggest Weirwood in Albion – wards would be corrupted before too long. Besides, not everyone is as talented as you, cherie." Her sister smiled and resumed prodding with her wand, muttering more diagnostic spells and occasionally drawing a glowing rune in the air.

"They could have hired a team from Gringotts," she continued. "But why go through the expense, when it's going to collapse soon anyway? Besides, there're only a few at Beauxbatons who can break a decent ward, and I sincerely doubt Hogwarts is any better. From what I can tell, they spend an even more inordinate amount of time on theory than us; they've never practiced any ward breaking. There can't be more than two or three kids here able to break anything."

Fleur paused, looking up and smirked. "Well, Merle, there's always us."

Ari rolled her eyes. "There's you, cherie. I might be able to open up a good-sized hole, but I'm really just here for backup." She glanced around warily. "Now hurry, before someone finds us."

Fleur laid her notes on the grass. The breaking scheme was more complex than she'd anticipated, but she'd puzzled it out eventually. She closed her eyes, mentally reviewed the necessary runes, and began to chant.

She placed the tip of her wand on the ward's edge as it glowed a brilliant white. Fluidly, she traced a series of flashing, interconnecting runes, sparks sinking into the glimmering barrier.

"Ehswaz," Fleur commanded.

Hearing her cue, Ari raised her wand and sent burning runes shooting into the wards, a cauterized imprint lingering in the air.

As Fleur continued to chant, the wards began to grow brighter and then flashed, the illusion and concealment charms disappearing as a section of the wards materialized, a shimmering, translucent blue, before vanishing.

Fleur shot Ari a smug grin. Her sister answered with a small smile "Yes, cherie, you're fabulous. Now, shall we? There's not a chance no one saw that."

They stepped through the broken wards – and froze. A red-haired, broad-shouldered wizard stood in front of them with a suspicious glare and a wand pointed straight at Fleur.

He advanced slowly, wand tip trained on her chest.

"I'm giving you exactly three seconds to tell me who the bloody hell you are and how you got here."

A/N: Yay, an update! ^.^ It's summer and so, Echo and I have been working on Blackbird more often. This chapter (unbelievably) went through 8 edits. Hope you all enjoy! If you liked it, please leave a review. It'd make us (and our lovely beta, Hannah) very very happy people.

~Echo + Kibou