Yo! An anon accused me of half assing this fic, and that because of that half assing, this fic isn't going to be popular at all.

First off, I don't really give a damn about popularity. If only a handful of people enjoy this, then that's perfectly fine, because I write for ME, not YOU. Second, I have only ever half-assed one fic before, and that fic is, sadly, currently my most popular work as far as I remember at least, others may have surpassed it by now, but I'm too lazy to check. So your words are not only unfounded, but incorrect.

I hope writing that pointless review was worth your time, since it was deleted about two minutes after you posted it. Anyway, thank you to all readers so far! (Except for that one asshat.)

With the Triwizard tournament taking place that year, Severus had expected things to be peaceful on the Potter front. But of course, hoping Potter wouldn't get involved in something dangerous was like hoping for a self-brewing potion. It was an impossibility beyond impossibility.

"The champion of Durmstrang, Viktor Krum!"

The Great Hall erupted into cheers, the students losing their collective minds once the famous Quidditch player's name was announced. Severus knew little about Krum other than that he had a Quidditch career, but he had to admit, he hadn't realized how young the boy was.

"The champion of Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!"

The applause for Delacour was far more muted than it had been for Krum a moment ago, but the response was still overwhelmingly positive, with only a few students from her own school displaying any sort of dismay.

"The champion of Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!"

The castle exploded into surprisingly loud cheers that almost rivalled their response to Krum. Severus watched as Diggory followed Krum and Delacour into the side room and frowned. Diggory, eh?

Severus didn't have any strong opinions regarding Diggory. Quidditch seemed to be his biggest priority, though he wasn't a poor student either, and while he didn't excel at potions, neither was he abysmal at the subject.

He was popular but never seemed to let said popularity go to his head, and Severus had only ever seen him being kind to those around him. Ever the Hufflepuff, really. There were certainly worse candidates for Hogwarts' champion.

And perhaps it was better that Hogwarts' champion was a Hufflepuff. A Ravenclaw would have been fine as well. Anyone other than a Gryffindor or Slytherin would have been acceptable. The rivalry between the latter two Houses was bad enough as it was. He didn't want to imagine how much worse it would be with a tournament like this on the line.

But then the Goblet of Fire burned red and a fourth scrap of parchment flew into the air. Dumbledore caught it immediately, perhaps out of instinct, and then the inevitable happened.

"...Violet Potter."

Silence descended in the Great Hall, as thick as a winter cloak, and Severus froze, eyes, like everyone else in the room, immediately going to Potter. She stared at Dumbledore, eyes wide and face pale.

"Violet Potter!" Dumbledore called louder.

Weasley sank into his seat, but Granger nudged Potter until she stood and slowly made her way up to the Headmaster. Severus could see her trembling from where he sat. What Dumbledore said to the girl, Severus didn't hear, but he watched as she disappeared into the same room the other three had gone into.

Chaos broke out in the Great Hall the second the door shut behind her. Karkaroff and Maxime descended upon Dumbledore, demanding to know why there were two Hogwarts champions, and McGonagall wasn't far behind. Neither was Moody, for that matter. The students, meanwhile, were all talking loudly, some confused, some angry. Granger looked worried, but the expression on Weasley's face didn't inspire much confidence.

Severus couldn't help but feel rather concerned himself, and that concern only worsened when he followed Dumbledore and the others into the room the four students were in.

"Violet! Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?" Dumbledore questioned. He was trying to be calm, but there was a panicked glint in his eyes.

"I didn't!" Potter exclaimed. "You put an age line around it anyway, sir! There's no way I could've gotten past it! I saw what happened to Fred and George when they tried!"

"What about an older student?" asked Dumbledore. "Did you ask an older student to enter your name for you?"

"No! Why would I do that!?"

Severus didn't say anything, but he believed her. Potter was a magnet for danger, that much was true, but this seemed beyond anything that had happened before. She was being forced to compete as well. Forced, because there was no way out of the tournament once the Goblet chose a name.

...Maybe it would be best for him to brew an extra-large batch of blood pressure-reducing potions. He had a feeling he was going to need them.

Potter and Weasley were fighting, and Granger was caught in the middle of it. Weasley was jealous of Potter, jealous that she was in the tournament when she already had so much fame. Weasley was very vocal in his disbelief at Potter's claims of not entering herself in the tournament.

Severus wanted to strangle him.

He was supposed to be her friend. Weasley should have been the first to believe Potter, to trust that she was telling the truth, to be appalled and upset that she had to compete in such a dangerous tournament against students three years older than her. He should have been the first to fear for Potter's life because it was clear that someone out there was trying to kill her.

But instead, he was jealous. He was jealous because he wanted to be in her place.

"Violet."

"It's alright, Hermione."

Severus was walking around his dungeon classroom slowly, supervising the fourth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors as they worked. He had assigned them a fairly simple potion, but even the most basic potions had a chance to end in disaster with some of the students in the room.

He'd paused to keep a closer eye on Finnegan when he heard Potter and Granger speaking quietly at the workbench just behind Thomas and Finnegan.

"But-"

"I'm not mad at him," said Potter. "I mean, it's pissing me off, sure, but I get why he's doing it." She glanced at Granger. "There's a reason the Mirror of Erised showed him standing alone as the Head Boy and Captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. You said it yourself, he gets jealous. He gets jealous of me, you, his brothers, and Ginny too. He probably feels like he has to compete for attention and stuff."

"Oh," said Granger quietly. "I didn't consider that. I guess it makes sense, considering how many siblings he has. ...That doesn't mean he isn't being an absolute berk, though."

Potter snickered. "I can't believe you just said that."

They fell silent after that, turning their attention back to the potion bubbling in the cauldron in front of them. Severus was a little surprised at the insight they'd shown.

Weasley had grown up in the shadows of his older brothers, who were all talented in their own ways, and his younger sister, the daughter their parents had always wanted. Then he'd come to Hogwarts only to have ended up in the shadow of his best friend who had a sort of fame he could never have.

But even then, Severus found it idiotic, and it didn't help that he could see how upset Potter was.

Every time Weasley ignored her, every time he said something crass about her, it hurt the girl. If her parents had been in her shoes, Weasley would have already been harshly pranked or hexed, but Potter? She had the same stubborn pride her parents had possessed, but she did and said nothing to hurt Weasley in return.

Instead, she focused on her lessons, chatted with Granger and Longbottom, and attempted to train for the first task, despite not knowing what that task was.

Severus had to commend her for that. For doing what she could, for trying to make things work. Her life was at risk, but instead of sitting around moping and complaining, she was working hard, trying to ensure her survival.

But it wasn't enough. It really wasn't.

Severus sat, quite literally, on the edge of his seat during the first task at the end of November. Stealing a fake eff from a dragon-a nesting mother of all things? This first task itself was dangerous enough. What would the other two be if they were starting with dragons?

The first three to compete were the older students, and Severus thought they did well enough. He saw obvious flaws in their plans but considering their ages and level of education, those plans were decent and for the most part, worked well enough. None of them succeeded in earning perfect scores though, but Severus hadn't expected otherwise.

The last to compete was Potter.

Severus watched her intently when she entered the stadium, unaware of the way his heart was hammering in his chest. She was already small for her age but she looked positively tiny standing across from the dragon.

Tiny and terrified.

This was idiotic! How could anyone in their right mind believe this child had purposely entered herself into this damned tournament? Why were there no rules against allowing someone so young to compete, even despite the supposed change of rules?

What was Potter going to do? He had just watched three seventh years struggle to capture their own egg with the spells and skills they had learned in their lessons. Potter was only a fourth year. She'd barely learned half of what the other three had. What could she do with what she had learned so far? Low-level spells were useless against dragons.

"Accio Firebolt!"

Severus frowned. She was going to fly? That was rather unexpected and yet, at the same time, completely expected. This meant she knew using spells against the dragon itself would never work. If she could do nothing to the dragon, the smartest thing to do was something she was familiar and comfortable with. Flying certainly fulfilled those criteria.

Potter's skills on a broom, whether they came from her blood or not, were natural to her, and she had only become more talented over the past three years of being a part of her House Quidditch team-something he'd never thought he would be grateful for.

Would flying be enough though? Dragons could fly as well, after all, and despite being chained, there was still enough leeway for the creature to fly a few feet, at least. Was Potter planning to draw the dragon away from her eggs and quickly rush forward on her broom to grab the golden one?

Would that be good enough? Simple was good, but perhaps it was too simple. Would it even work at all? Severus had his doubts.

So, ignoring the boos and jeers, he watched as Potter's broom came flying into the stadium, watched as she caught and mounted it quickly, and watched, curiosity growing when he realized that she hadn't put her wand away yet. Was he wrong about her plan? Did she have something else in mind?

"Expecto Patronum!"

...Oh. Severus blinked, caught off guard. The large, bright stag burst out of the end of Potter's wand and bounded around the stadium, catching the dragon's eye almost instantly. The dragon watched the stag, then roared and breathed fire at it, only to stomp in anger when the glowing stag only emerged from the flames unscathed.

And now the dragon moved. Roaring again, she tried to go after the stag, this time moving away from her nest to do so. Potter didn't waste time. She shot forward, flew at the nest, grabbed the golden egg, and flew away from the nest. The glowing stag disappeared and with a roar of triumph, the dragon returned to her nest, oblivious of the theft.

Potter landed a safe distance away, shouldered her broom, cradled the egg closely, and then walked away, not even bothering to look at her scores, which were currently being displayed.

Severus smirked, quite pleased with that. The girl couldn't get out of the tournament, but as long as she did the bare minimum, regardless of how well she scored, it fulfilled the magical contract that was binding her into competing. And in Severus' opinion, odd though it was, he had to admit that Potter had handled this task the best.

Diggory had transfigured a boulder into a dog and had used that dog to distract the dragon, but he hadn't been fast enough to escape the flames the dragon had sent at the dog and had gotten burned, losing him points.

Delacour had attempted to put the dragon to sleep, but hadn't been magically powerful enough for it and had only sent the creature into a bit of a trance. The dragon had been just alert enough to send fire at Delacour when she'd approached, setting her robes on fire which she had then been forced to extinguish, losing her points.

Krum had targeted the dragon's weak spot-the eyes, hitting the conjunctivitis curse which, in most cases would have been smart. But the dragon must have been in a great amount of pain and had fallen into spasms, crushing half of her very real and very rare eggs, losing him points.

Like Diggory, Potter had chosen to avoid casting any spells on the dragon itself and had decided to go for a distraction instead. Unlike Diggory, Potter hadn't yet learned how to transfigure anything into an animal large enough for the dragon to see, let alone be distracted by. So, she'd opted for the Patronus charm instead, the stag not only large but bright as well. On top of that, Potter had considered something none of the others had and had accounted for that using her broom.

Speed.

Yes, Severus believed Potter had done the best, but the scores didn't fully reflect that. According to the scores, Potter and Krum were tied for first, Diggory had come second, and Delacour third. Severus wasn't sure why Potter and Krum were tied. Krum should never have come in first-shouldn't have been considered coming in first either.

They weren't to harm the real eggs, and yet, Krum's actions had caused more than half of them to be destroyed. He should have come in fourth, not tied for first with someone who hadn't harmed the eggs and had used a more advanced spell.

Unable to sit there any longer, Severus left the stadium as well. He had potions to brew. He'd fallen behind in his schedule because he'd had to prepare multiple burn salves and he wanted to catch up before that schedule was ruined further.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not when he came across Potter on the way back to the castle. She was hunched over along the path, getting sick in some bushes.

He couldn't blame her for that and nor could he leave her be. Not only because they were, well, what they were, but also because as much as he loathed it, he was a professor and she was a student. He had an obligation to ensure she was alright, especially when he could very obviously see signs of distress.

"Potter," he called out as he approached her.

She started and then coughed, straightening up quickly and rubbing her sleeve across her mouth. "Sorry, sir," she said quickly.

Severus raised a brow, wondering why on earth the girl was apologizing for being sick, in some bushes no less. Strange. "Are you well, Potter?"

She nodded hurriedly. "I'm okay, sorry."

"Do you require a calming draught?" he asked. He had a feeling the nerves of having to deal with the dragon had finally gotten to her. She may have handled the task exceptionally well, but she was still just a fourth year.

But Potter shook her head. "No thank you, sir. I'm okay now." As if to prove it, she picked up the golden egg she had no doubt dropped.

Severus regarded her closely, but though she was pale, she returned his gaze steadily. "Very well. Allow me to escort you to the castle."

Potter blinked, green eyes wide behind her round glasses, but she nodded again, perhaps feeling as if she couldn't refuse. "Y-yes, sir." And with that, she followed after him in silence, heading straight up the Grand Staircase once they were in the Entrance Hall.

Severus watched her go and saw her pause just before turning the corner out of sight. She shot him a cautious glance from over her shoulder, and then resumed walking, vanishing around the bend of the staircase.

Alone now, Severus sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been too kind to her, hadn't he? Suspiciously so. The nerves of the first task had gotten to him as well, it seemed.

He headed for the dungeons. Severus didn't know what the second task was, and nor did he know what the golden egg had to do with it. All he knew was that the task would take place in February and that it was meant to be more dangerous than the first task. He couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

He rubbed the soulmark hidden under his sleeve.

That's it for now. Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!