I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. This series belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am not making any profit from this story.

Harry Potter was sitting at his usual spot in the Great Hall, at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Ever since last night, the Hall had been decorated with enormous silk-banners hanging from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house. There was a red banner with a gold lion for Gryffindor, a blue banner with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, a yellow banner with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and a green banner with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the staff table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms – a lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter 'H'.

By now, Professor Dumbledore had given a quick speech welcoming the foreign students to Hogwarts, and hoping that their stay would be both comfortable and enjoyable (one of the Beauxbatons girls laughed). He then declared that the Triwizard Tournament was officially open, and invited everyone to eat, drink, and make themselves at home.

"Looks good," said Harry, as a variety of local and foreign dishes appeared on the tables. He ate in silence for most of the time, listening as students all around him marvelled over the food. "Easy there, Ron. The rest of us still need to eat."

They all laughed.

"Yeah, you tell 'em," said Fred, helping himself to a French-dish called 'cassoulet'. "Greedy git."

"Get stuffed," said Ron, and Fred snorted.

"What? Like your mouth?"

George shook his head and chuckled. "Pass that plate over there. The one with the lamb and cabbage."

They carried on eating. About twenty minutes later, Hagrid sidled into the Great Hall through a door behind the staff table. He slid into his seat at the end, smiled, and waved at Harry and his group with a heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"Thrivin'!"

Ron gave a slight shudder. "Yeah, I'll just bet they are. Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was the Beauxbatons girl who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep-blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple and stared blankly at her. Quite a few other boys did the same, including the neighbouring Hufflepuffs.

"Nah." Harry pushed the bouillabaisse-dish towards the girl. "You can have it."

The girl blinked. "You 'ave finished wiz it?"

Ron was quick to respond. He spoke in a breathless manner. "Yeah. Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at her as though he had never seen a girl before. Harry chortled. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a Veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry, who shrugged.

"Maybe."

Harry watched the scene play out before him. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, like Ron.

"Mental," said Dean. "Makes you feel kinda dumb when you look at her."

Seamus nodded. "Much better than our lasses."

"Oh, really?" Lavender shot him a withering glare. "And what would you know about girls anyway? Just keep eating."

Parvati laughed, and Seamus frowned.

"Git."

Harry turned to look a few seats to the left. "All right there, Neville? Awfully quiet, aren't you?"

Neville dished himself some potatoes. "I'm just hungry."

"Good lad," said Ron.

The rest of the evening went as expected. Ludo Bagman and Mr Crouch soon joined the staff table, and Dumbledore had the casket brought in once the feast had concluded. He gave a lengthy speech regarding the Triwizard Tournament, then withdrew the Goblet of Fire from the casket. The Goblet was a large, roughly hewn wooden cup, filled to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames.

Cool.

Another Tournament-speech followed, after which Dumbledore explained about his Age Line. He also mentioned that the Goblet of Fire issued a binding magical contract, ensuring that any selected champion see the Tournament through to the end.

"Now, I think it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all."

They got up amidst a wave of noise. Students all around were discussing – and lamenting – the Age Line, with Fred and George immediately scheming to get around it. Harry joined in, too, hoping that he'd be able to bypass the Headmaster's security.

Lessons continued the following morning. Harry got through Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, followed by lunch at noon. Here, he watched Fred and George test their Ageing Potion, which turned out to be useless against Dumbledore's Age Line. The twins were flung aside before sprouting long white beards.

"I did warn you," said an amused Dumbledore, exiting the Great Hall. He recommended that Fred and George pay a visit to the hospital wing, where Miss Fawcett of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers of Hufflepuff were being treated as well.

"Better them than us," said Harry, as he and his roommates entered the Great Hall. It had been changed to reflect a Hallowe'en theme, with a cloud of live bats and hundreds of carved pumpkins. "I hate not being able to compete. Why can't I be seventeen as well?"

"Some luck," said Ron, looking just as annoyed. "Bet you could give those final-years a run for their money. Imagine winning a thousand Galleons!"

Harry sighed. "No sense in dreaming. Let's just eat."

Unfortunately, rumours were abound at lunch. Harry sat with a frown as he heard about various students entering. These included Cassius Warrington of Slytherin, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff, and even Gryffindor's own Angelina Johnson.

"Hope it's you," Harry told Angelina at their table. "I'd rather cheer for my own house, thanks."

Angelina smiled. "Much appreciated."

Minutes later, the Beauxbatons students entered the Great Hall for lunch. They walked with their heads held high, and sat among the Ravenclaws as usual.

"There's your friend," Harry told Ron, as the Veela girl took her seat. "Try not to drool all over your food."

They discussed the Triwizard Tournament for a while, until the bell rang. Harry got up and joined the rest of his group for double Divination.

Wish I could compete.

The champion-selection took place during the Hallowe'en feast. Dumbledore got to his feet and said that the Goblet of Fire was almost ready to make its decision. He explained that when the champions were called, they were to come up to the top of the Great Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they would be receiving further instructions.

He took out his wand and gave a great, sweeping wave. At once, all the candles except those in the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging the Hall into a state of semi-darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone brighter than anything in the whole Hall; its bluey whiteness almost painful on the eyes.

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames of the Goblet turned suddenly red. The whole room gasped as sparks flew from the Goblet, followed by a tongue of flame. It ejected a charred piece of paper into the air, which Dumbledore caught.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he said in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum!"

They all cheered, but few were surprised. Karkaroff congratulated Krum so loudly that everyone could hear, even over the applause.

Seconds later, the Goblet ejected its second piece of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

So that's her name. Harry joined the wave of cheers which spread throughout the Hall. He watched as Fleur Delacour got gracefully to her feet, while most of her delegation looked bitterly disappointed.

"Oh, look," said Hermione, as some of the Beauxbatons students dissolved into tears, "they're all disappointed."

At last, they had reached the Hogwarts champion. There was a silence so stiff with excitement that you could almost taste it.

"The Hogwarts champion," said Dumbledore, "is Harry Potter."

Harry froze. There was no applause, as hundreds of heads turned to look at him in disbelief. The silence was surreal ... until a buzzing, as though of angry bees, started filling the Hall. Some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, bewildered, in his seat.

"Harry Potter!" said Dumbledore again, still holding the piece of parchment in his hand. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on!" Hermione whispered.

Bemused, Harry got to his feet and set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The buzzing grew louder and louder; and after what seemed like an hour, Harry stood before Dumbledore.

"Professor –"

"Through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

Harry ignored the looks of astonishment (and disgust) he was getting, and moved along the staff table. He left the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

Must be someone's idea of a joke. Maybe a Slytherin.

Ignoring the gossiping portraits, Harry approached Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour at the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Fleur raised a silvery blonde brow upon seeing Harry.

"What is it? Do zey want us back in ze 'All?"

Harry had no idea how to explain what had happened. He just stood there, trying to figure out which student of age would've thrown his name in. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of scurrying feet behind him.

"Jolly good!" said Ludo Bagman. "Extraordinary! What a lad!"

Krum frowned. "Vot? I do not understand."

"Me too," said Fleur, scratching the side of her silvery hair. "Where eez ze 'Ogwarts champion?"

Bagman clapped Harry on the back. "Right here!"

Krum blinked. Fleur snorted with laughter.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

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

Fleur glanced at Harry, then back at Bagman. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake. 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

Bagman expressed his amazement but was interrupted by the door opening behind him. Professor Dumbledore came in, followed closely by Mr Crouch, Madame Maxime, and Professors Karkaroff, McGonagall, and Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students in the Great Hall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Er ... Madame Maxime?" Fleur looked at her Headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis underaged boy is ze 'Ogwarts champion. Eez zat really true?"

Madame Maxime couldn't resist grinning. "Evidently so. It would seem zat 'Eadmaster Dumbly-dorr 'as made a mistake wiz 'is Age Line."

"Absolutely not!" said Professor McGonagall, looking appalled. "There has to be another explanation!"

Snape glared at Harry in his usual, nasty manner. "Certainly. Potter's been crossing lines ever since he arrived here. I would not be surprised if he paid someone to put his name in."

Shove off, Snivellus.

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore in a firm manner. Then he looked down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to read his expression. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, aware that everybody was watching him. "And neither did I bribe anyone to do it."

Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief. Madame Maxime was still smiling.

"Of course 'e will say zat. But no matter, what eez done eez done."

Karkaroff nodded. "My thoughts exactly! Sorry, Dumbledore, but rules are rules. Congratulations on your fourth-year champion."

He gave a nasty laugh.

Professor McGonagall looked, wide-eyed, at Dumbledore. "We're not seriously letting Potter compete, are we? It's clear that someone's entered him without his permission!"

They consulted Bagman and Mr Crouch, at which the former looked at the latter.

"We must follow the rules," said Mr Crouch in his usual, curt manner, "and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."

Well, that's convenient.

Bagman agreed, stating that Mr Crouch knew the rulebook back to front.

"This is absurd." Professor McGonagall looked at Harry. "He's only fourteen!"

"And remarkably capable," said Dumbledore (Snape snorted). "While the circumstances surrounding Harry's participation are unclear, it would be unwise to dismiss him." (Madame Maxime and Karkaroff looked sceptical.) "Now, if there is nothing else –"

"There is," said the growling voice of Moody. He limped into the room, glaring at Karkaroff. "I think it's fairly obvious that someone's entered Harry's name, hoping to see him fail – or fall."

The room went silent, until Karkaroff spoke.

"And who might that be?"

Moody frowned. "Those looking to turn innocent occasions to their advantage. It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff – as you ought to remember …"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction – Karkaroff's face was burning.

"Are we done?" said Madame Maxime, looking annoyed. "Fleur and I are waiting for ze instructions."

"Of course!" Bagman rubbed his hands together and smiled. "Barty, want to do the honours?"

Mr Crouch gave a lengthy explanation about the first task, which was set to test their courage in the face of the unknown. It was scheduled for Thursday, the twenty-fourth of November. He also briefed them on the rules of the Tournament, including the fact that champions were not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers.

Once Mr Crouch had finished, Dumbledore dismissed the gathering and invited Bagman, Mr Crouch, and the Heads for a drink. Mr Crouch politely declined, stating that there were lots to do back at the Ministry.

"Professor Karkaroff?" Dumbledore asked. "Madame Maxime?"

"I shall take you up on that," said Karkaroff, looking pleased. "I daresay you need a drink after all this drama, Dumbledore."

Madame Maxime accepted the offer as well, though she was stopped by Fleur for a quick chat. They spoke in rapid French as the group started leaving (Harry took his time to walk).

"What do you think?" asked Fleur. "Is he really as capable as his Headmaster suggests? I mean, he is famous and all."

"The Headmaster loves his humour and mind-games. Just keep studying, and don't drop your guard around the competition."

Fleur sniggered. "He'll probably cry when he's embarrassed by the true champions. Oh well, at least there's only one to worry about."

They strode off in a haughty manner, passing Harry with their noses in the air. Harry smiled behind their backs and felt a wave of gratitude for Sirius.

Speaking of his godfather, Harry reminded himself to contact Sirius as soon as possible. He returned to the common room and found himself faced with a silent crowd.

"How'd you do it?" George asked, breaking the silence. "And without a beard, too!"

Fred jumped up from his chair as well. "Yeah! Tell us, Harry! Was it Sirius?"

Harry shook his head. "I didn't put my name in. Did any of you?"

The Gryffindors looked at one another, then back at Harry. None of the students of age had entered anyone but themselves.

"Oh well." Angelina shrugged. "If it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor."

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet agreed. Then Cormac McLaggen spoke up from the couch at the fireplace.

"Yeah, could've been worse. Imagine cheering for Warrington or something."

There was a murmur of agreement (and disgust), and the mood lightened somewhat. Harry could tell that many people were envious over his participation, but he let it slide. Nobody was perfect after all.

"So, anyway ..." Lee Jordan unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere. "Here's to Hogwarts!"

And he draped it around Harry like a cloak, after which several students, particularly Fred and George, passed Butterbeers and potato crisps to Harry. They were all trying to figure out how Harry had been entered, but eventually stopped once the conversation grew tiresome.

"All right," Harry said finally, after nearly twenty minutes. "Think I'll get some rest."

Yawning, he set off for the boys'-dormitory staircase. He almost flattened the little Creevey brothers as they tried waylaying him at the foot of the stairs, but was stopped by Ginny rushing ahead of him.

"Get off our stairs," Harry said. "Yours turns into a damn slide if a boy uses them."

"OK, seriously ..." Ginny crossed her arms. "How'd you beat the Age Line? Who'd you ask to put your name in?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Snape, of course."

"Ha, ha. You're such a clown. How'd you get in?"

"Through the Fat Lady's portrait."

Ginny stomped her foot. "I meant the Tournament! Everyone's dying to know how you got entered!"

"Really, now?" Harry frowned. "Come on, Ginny, how long have you known me?"

Ginny snorted with laughter. "Long enough."

"Then you'd know that I didn't put my name in, otherwise I would've told you people."

"Huh." Ginny nodded in a thoughtful manner. "S'pose that makes sense, yeah. But then why would anyone give up this opportunity? The Tournament's a chance for Galleons and glory!"

"Hell if I know." Harry shrugged, then stepped onto the staircase. "You didn't see Ron, did you?"

"Oh, yeah." Ginny passed Harry on the way down. "He's up there, sulking. Probably green as a frog by now."

Can't blame him. Harry carried on up the stairs and stopped at his dormitory door. He'd known Ron long enough to expect such a reaction from him (which was fairly normal, to be honest).

"Anyone home?" Harry said as he entered his dormitory. "Champ in the house."

Ron was lying on his bed, still fully dressed. He gave a slight snort.

"Congratulations. But I bet you're used to getting everything by now, aren't you?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry drew his wand and gave it a wave. The Gryffindor banner unfastened itself around him, and he placed it on the spare dresser to his right.

"Hey, listen," he said, stifling a yawn, "I'm going to finish some work and call Sirius. You can join, if you want."

Ron gave a nonchalant shrug, and Harry continued.

"Problem is, I don't want him going mental over all this. I mean, you can spin all sorts of conspiracy theories here, since I didn't put my name in."

"Yeah," said Ron coldly. "You probably asked someone. Could've at least told me first."

"I would have, if I actually did." Harry rubbed his chin while surveying the room. "So, er ... where should I hang this banner?"

Ron sat up and scowled. "Toss it in the bin or burn it. Keep your victory parties downstairs, thanks."

Shame. Harry folded the banner in his hands. "Think I'll finish Divination quickly. Maybe add some horrible death in the Tournament or something."

Ron said nothing. He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, shrugging things off.

He'll come right, Harry thought.

It didn't take too long to finish his Divination homework. The random predictions proved to be a welcome distraction from Ron's little tantrum, though Harry couldn't help wondering who, exactly, had placed his name in the Goblet – and why.

"Done," he said, rolling up the parchment. "Easy as pie."

Ron scoffed behind his velvet curtains. "Yeah, I'll bet. Maybe Runes and Arithmancy would be more on your level. Can't have a Triwizard champion in lame-old Divination."

Harry shook his head and snorted. They had both chosen Divination as a last resort, since Arithmancy was mostly just Divination with maths, Muggle Studies hardly interested them, and Study of Ancient Runes focused mainly on translation. And then there were Mr and Mrs Tonks, who had already tutored Harry in some Runes over the years (though he found it rather dull overall).

Time to call home.

Harry rummaged in his trunk for a while, then withdrew the two-way mirror. He sat on his bed and said, "Sirius Black."

There was a short pause, until Sirius appeared in the mirror. He was as clean and kempt as ever, and was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.

"Hey, Harry," he said, smiling. "Nice to see you're using this again."

Harry gave a guilty smile. He'd preferred firecalls for a while, as the mirror made him feel like a child at times.

"So," said Sirius, "what's the news? I assume they've chosen the champions?"

"Yep. And I guess you win our bet."

"Ah, I see." Sirius nodded. "So it is a Gryffindor, then. And to think you guessed Ravenclaw."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah. Thing is, I'm the Hogwarts champion."

Sirius blinked. "Really? That's great! How'd you do it?"

"I didn't. Nor did I bribe anyone."

"Oh." Sirius lost his smile. "Well, that changes things. First your scar, then the Dark Mark, and now this? Something's definitely not right here, Harry ..."

They discussed the dangers of Harry being involved in the Triwizard Tournament, as well as potential suspects.

"Karkaroff," said Harry, and Sirius rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps. But keep that to yourself and your closest friends. No sense in making a fool of yourself in front of everyone."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. But would he really make a move like that under Dumbledore's nose? He's a coward."

"Anything's possible these days," said Sirius. "I'll take this up with Remus and see what he has to say. Andromeda and the rest, too."

Harry looked at his wand in his hand. "It's funny. Even with all the dangers around this Tournament, I can't help feeling excited."

"Naturally," said Sirius. "Though I don't suppose they've briefed you on the first task yet, have they?"

"Nope." Harry shook his head. "All we know is that they're testing our courage in the face of the unknown. Probably a fight, I'd say."

Sirius looked slightly relieved. "Well, at least you're not too bad with your wand." He sighed. "Still, the main thing is that you stay on your guard. 'Constant vigilance', as Mad-Eye would say. I wouldn't even trust Snape at this stage. Mind you, I never really did."

"Yeah. Me neither."

"Call me as soon as you have more information," said Sirius. "And please, if you spot anything suspicious, don't hesitate to tell Dumbledore and the rest."

"Will do," said Harry, ending the call.