Lessons were, as usual an odd combination of dull and interesting. History of Magic Draco found uniquely interesting, or as Harry would put it, uniquely Draco found History of Magic interesting. Transfiguration was much the same as it always had been and charms was picking up after the relative simplicity of last year. In no class, however, did anyone pay more attention than in Defence against the Dark Arts. It was the one class everyone had been talking about, and so it was with excitement that Draco sat down in the class. Moody was a legend in his own lifetime, the grizzled auror who had taken out more dark wizards than anyone alive today was treated in one half of society with awe, the other with fear. In both parts however, he was disliked. His initial appearance, that of a man who had not so much been born but sculpted haphazardly out of rock with dynamite won him no favours but those he won he struggled to keep thanks to his abrupt manner and peculiar habits.

One of these habits they noticed the moment they entered the class. They had just taken their seats when Moody roared CONTSANT VIGILIENCE! at the top of his voice. Half of the class jumped out of their seats, the other half, including Draco, whipped their wands out and looked wildly about for the attack. There was none, but from there on in, the lesson only got stranger. So strange in fact, that Draco wrote to his uncle about it.

Dear Uncle Noctifer,

I hope everything is well at home, it is here. I don't know if you've heard, but they've cancelled cricket and quidditch this year for something called the Triwizard Tournament. I'm not allowed to enter, so really I fail to see what I'm going to get from it. The new Defence teacher is Mad-eye Moody. I know he's supposed to be mental, but even so his lesson was a bit strange. In our first lesson with him today he started by giving us a lecture on wand safety (that's not the strange bit) and then asked us about unforgiveable curses. After he got the names of them from the class, he demonstrated the cruciatus and the killing curse on a spider which he had swollen to an enormous size. He seemed to get a bit of a thrill out of torturing it. Then he practised the imperius curse on us and told us to shake it off. I did manage after about five minutes, but the next person to mention desktop tap-dancing to me is going to be cursed and cursed well. Even with Moody being completely crackers, isn't this a bit extreme? What do you think?

Draco.

The reply came immediately via the common room fireplace.

'Hi Draco! Got your letter.'

'Noctifer! What are you doing here? How can you call here? This is so embarrassing.'

'Never mind that. What you say about Moody is odd. There's nothing definite, but I want you to keep track of all the odd things he's been doing. When you fill this notebook, go to Dumbledore about it.'

Noctifer's hand emerged through the fire and handed a small wire bound notebook to Draco. The hand receded into the flickering green flames and disappeared. The fire went back to normal and Noctifer was clearly going to say no more.

The list grew and grew and by a week before Halloween about half of the notebook was full of Moody's oddities. Walking down in the herd of students to greet the expected arrivals, the list grew. Why was it, Draco wrote, that Moody always drinks from his hip flask on the hour exactly? Who drank once an hour? Draco thought no more on it after he had written it down, and instead concentrated on jostling for a good position from which to see the arrival of the guests.

The Durmstrang students arrived first. A first year with unusually good eyesight had been the first to notice something was happening at the lake, and instantly all heads turned towards it. There was something happening in the middle, large concentric rings were spreading out from a central point. Whatever it was seemed to have interested the giant squid whose tentacles could be seen wafting in the direction of the disturbance. The disturbance grew and it soon became apparent that a ship of some sort was rising from the depths. That was truly impressive, from the beautiful red and gold paint highlighting the carved stern which depicted images of duelling wizards to the brazen figurehead at the front. Water poured off the ship and its crew emerged. A barge was lowered from one side and boarded by all on board. The barge was soon pulling up on the shore and out hoped the students of Durmstrang, led by a formidable man in a fur hat. The man with the sallow face walked to Dumbledore and greeted him.

'And Good morning to you too, Igor, feel free to head inside, unless you would prefer to wait for the ladies, of course.'

As it turned out they decided to head inside on the grounds of the chill.

The Durmstrang students may have been inside out of the biting wind but still the Hogwarts students were waiting for the French delegation. Eventually, they arrived.

'Finally. How much longer were they going to keep us waiting?' Draco asked in a whispered aside to Ron.

'Don't know. They're arrivals a bit disappointing after Durmstrang though, late and in a flying carriage not very spectacular, is it?'

'Not really.' Draco was forced to agree. After the French ladies had stopped pulling disgusted faces at the presence of mud on the ground, they headed inside.

'Well, thank goodness for that.' Hermione said to Draco, 'I think I've got frostbite.'

'It was a bit cold, wasn't it?'

'Yes it was. And think yourself lucky that you've got trousers.'

'A bit fresh about the knees, was it?'

'Yes, and not just the knees either.' Hermione said mischievously.

'At least the great hall will be warm, with so many people in it.'

'True. I just hope there's going to be enough food.'

'You hope there's going to be enough food? I thought that was my job.'

'What? Can't I be hungry too?'

'Well, I suppose so.' Draco said, taking his seat at the Gryffindor table.

At the end of another excellent feast, Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

'Once more I should like to extend our welcome to our guests. We all know however that you are not here simply for a social call. You are here for the Triwizard Tournament! Each school will put forward one champion who will be selected by an impartial judge.'

A whisper of excitement ran around the hall. Who would this impartial judge be? Dumbledore coughed twice and continued.

'The impartial judge will now be brought in.' Dumbledore paused as Argus Filch now entered the hall from behind the staff table, struggling as he carried an awkwardly large stand. Behind him came Mad-eye Moody, carrying a small box. The box was placed on top of the stand and Dumbledore walked down to it. He drew a line around the stand with his wand and then proceeded to tap the box three times with the tip of his wand. The bejewelled box folded into itself, revealing its contents, a roughly hewn wooden cup. Gasps filled the hall as the goblet caught fire.

'The goblet of fire is to be your judge. A student need only place his name inside the goblet on a piece of paper to enter. However!' Dumbledore continued strongly, 'There is a new regulation this year. The tournament is a dangerous and oftentimes deadly challenge. As such it has been decided that only those who are seventeen shall be allowed to enter. Those who are not will find this age line impossible to cross. The champions will be decided at our Halloween feast.' He waved at the faint line that he had earlier traced.

Fred and George were extremely disgruntled at this, as indeed were most members of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione wasn't too displeased, but she soon joined the growing ranks of the upset in the Gryffindor common room, but for completely different reasons.

'I can't believe Moody lost our homework! I spent ages writing that. Four foot of essay for nothing!'

To lose a couple of essays was rare but not unheard of. To lose the entire class's work however... That incident was soon added to the notebook.

Before anyone knew it, it was Halloween and they were all once more in the great hall of Hogwarts awaiting the announcement of the champions. Even Fred and George were there, freshly out of the hospital wing after their disastrous attempt to get past Dumbledore's age line. Dumbledore waved an arm and all of the candles in the room were extinguished, the only light in the room came from the goblet of fire and the glow of four guttering candles which had all but gone out.

Dracos eyes had only just adjusted to the gloom when the flame of the goblet glowed bright and a bit of paper came out. Dumbledore deftly seized the paper from the air as it floated down.

'The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour.'

Another blast of light and Viktor Krum was announced as the Durmstrang champion. Then, no sooner had Krum disappeared from the room then the goblet grew bright for what they thought ot be the final time.

'The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory.'

Diggory left the room and the murmur that usually filled the hall during feasts began to return. All of a sudden it died away. The goblet had disgorged another piece of paper. It was Dumbledore who picked it up. His face visibly whitened.

'Harry Potter.' Dumbledore mumbled, then collecting himself he began again.

'The champion for. Oh, never mind. Is Harry Potter.'

Harry sat there shocked and wouldn't move until Ron stood him up. Harry left the hall to join the other champions and the hall burst into noisy, angry gossip.

'How did he do it? You think he would have told us.' Said Ron in a sentiment that was echoed in only slightly different words across the hall.

'Come on, do you think he knew himself?' Draco asked.

'I mean, did you see the look on his face- he was just as shocked as we were. I'm telling you, there's no way that Harry put his own name in, or I'll eat my hat.'

'Ok. I'll take you up on that one. Dumbledore's decision on the matter is final and if I lose I'll eat my own hat as well. Deal?'

'It's a bet.' Draco stuck out his hand and shook Ron's. It would be a long time indeed until the result of that bet would be known.

Lessons continued as per usual, even if they did have a champion in their class. No hints were dropped as to what the first task would be and it was therefore with great concern that Harry prepared for everything that the first task could throw at him. It was not very long before the first task when Harry returned to the common room and announced to Draco, Ron and Hermione that he knew what the task was.

'Dragons!'

'Dragons. Do you have any idea how I can tackle one. Hagrid said something about getting past one of them.'

'Charlie told me once that the weakest spot of a dragon is its eyes.'

'Yeah, but you won't do anything to a dragon by blinding other than make it unable to see you. It'll just go berserk, won't it?'

'True, but that might not be an issue if you could avoid it.'

'And how am I meant to do that. I'm only allowed to take my wand in with me. Nothing else.'

'A collar of execution might do the trick. It's supposed to be a fearfully difficult charm but it might work.' Draco suggested.

'And what does it do?' Harry asked.

'Well, it summons a collar about the dragon's neck and then chops its head off.'

'That's barbaric!' Hermione exclaimed.

'Yes, but so are dragons. They aren't exactly going to ignore you just because you ignore them. At least, that's what Great-Uncle Aphalard wrote in his book. He was an amateur dragon-tamer, father showed me his diary when I was younger. For some reason I remembered about that.'

'You know, Draco, I sometimes wonder about you.' Hermione commented.

'Well, that's great Hermione, but it's not helping Harry now, is it?'

'No. How about a body bind curse?'

'Won't work on Dragons, their skin's too thick.' Ron replied, smug that he knew something Hermione didn't.

'How about petrificaction?'

'Well, Hermione, do you happen to have a basilisk or a medusa with you? Didn't think so, besides I can only take my wand in with me.'

'I know, the dragon'll have to be kept in one place right. That means magic or chains or stuff, right?' Ron asked.

'Yes, I think so, but I don't see how that helps.'

'Well, why don't you fly around it on your broom?'

Harry looked at Ron as if he was an idiot.

'I can only take in my wand.'

'Yeah, just use it to summon the broomstick. There's a spell my mum's always using. Accio or something like that. Just cast that and your broom'll come straight to you. Then you can do what you have to do.'

'I still reckon that a good conflagration would do the job.' Draco muttered sulkily. The others resolutely ignored him.

The day of the first task dawned and Draco was worried for his friend. Dragon's were evil creatures and this could be the last time they'd meet. He was sure that he would never again speak to Harry, or at least while expecting to hear something back, when he took a seat. The task was to take a golden egg from a clutch of eggs protected by a broody female dragon. That was impossible.

Cedric Diggory was the first of the champions to prove Draco wrong, narrowly escaping a fiery death at the hands of a Swedish short-snout when the dragon stopped chasing the rock he had transfigured into a small dog. The fact the dog wasn't flameproof hadn't helped.

Fleur Delacour came next and charmed her dragon to sleep, an impressive feet of magic, even if the snoring dragon did set fire to her skirt.

Krum simply adopted the direct approach. Blind the dragon and go straight for the eggs. Just like Draco had predicted when Ron had suggested this in the common room, the Chinese fireball had gone crazy and, whilst Krum was unhurt, he was docked a lot of points when the dragon smashed up most of the clutch of ordinary eggs.

That left only Harry, who had drawn the meanest dragon of the lot. The Hungarian Horntail. Harry had barely stepped out of the entrance to the arena where the task was being held whena burst of flame came straight at him. Draco winced as his friend hit the ground hard, diving for shelter behind a rock. Then Harry pulled it off. He cast a spell and before long an unmanned broomstick was flying over the heads of the audience. Harry caught it and mounted in one smooth movement. He took to the air and was soon long out of reach of the Horntail.

'What's he doing?' asked Hermione.

'He's hovering out of range. Probably planning his next move.' Draco said. The next moment, Harry brought the broom into a steep dive and flew straight at the dragon. He swooped over the eggs to pick up his as the dragon shot a fireball where he had been mere moments before. Having picked up the egg in triumph and successfully beaten his retreat, Harry was now safe. Not only that, but he got excellent marks as well.

The party in Gryffindor tower lasted well into the small hours, and it was only when Professor McGonagall arrived to shut them up and send them to bed for the fourth time that the celebrations began to wrap up. This was not the only time Professor McGonagall had to be the bearer of bad news either, at least in Draco's opinion, when she announced an unexpected challenge. They all had to get partners for the Yule ball, which apparently was a tradition of the Tournament. Draco knew who he wanted to ask, but how could he do it? He sat and schemed for many weeks before he had what he felt to be the perfect plan.