A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.

Beauxbatons Carriage

Fleur Delacour was angry. In fact, she was furious. Marching back and forth in her surprisingly spacious room in the Beauxbatons carriage, she tried her best to contain her anger with little success. The flames of fury within her burned with a terrible passion the likes of which she had not experienced in many years.

The cause of it? That little English shit, Harry Potter.

She had spotted him almost immediately upon entering the Great Hall. The mop of black, unruly hair. The intense emerald-green eyes. The slightly intrigued, yet reserved look he gave the world. And of course, the pièce de resistance, the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

At first, she hadn't thought much of him. But then, as she gradually made her way down towards the podium, she had come to notice that something seemed to be a little off about the infamous young wizard. He did not seem to be affected by her passive Allure the way the other males in the room were. His eyes were not glazed over with longing or desire, nor were they fixed on her, but rather on the brown-haired witch sitting next to him.

This had irked Fleur, as she was not used to being ignored. Mistreated and bullied by her fellow students, sure, but never ignored. Especially not by members of the opposite sex.

Deciding that such an oversight had to be remedied, she had secretly targeted him with an extra strong burst of her Allure, thinking that would be enough to get him to pay attention to her. But to her great surprise, this too had failed to achieve the desired result. In fact, once her Allure hit him, he had simply frowned slightly, as if annoyed by her ministrations.

Annoyed! Annoyed at my Allure! Oh, the gall!

Muttering curses underneath her breath, Fleur came to a stop in front of the mirror she kept on her desk, the glassy surface reflecting a beautiful face marred with terrible anger back at her. She was so incredibly pissed off at the young wizard she could scarcely think straight. Never in her life had anyone reacted to her presence that way before. Most men would find their eyes naturally drawn to her by her passive Allure alone, and the amount she had directed towards the young boy earlier that day had gone far beyond that. Even those who were naturally resistant to it would usually show some sign of mental struggle when she blasted it at them, including her father who had lived with several Veela for most of his life.

But Harry Potter had simply scoffed at her Allure. Scoffed at the special attention she had shown him, and shrugged it off like it was some kind of annoyance.

Fleur would not stand for it. She simply couldn't accept being treated in such a pitiful way. Even the real Fleur, the version of herself she kept locked away beneath the veneer of the Ice Queen, was roaring with fury. Something had to be done.

Tomorrow… after breakfast… I'll go introduce myself to him. And then, once I get him away from the crowds… I'll give him a full blast of my Allure, no holds barred. We'll see how well he manages to ignore me then!

Smiling ruefully to herself, she walked over to lay down in her bed, thoughts of revenge swirling around in her head like electrons around a nucleus. She was going to make sure Harry Potter rued the day he chose to ignore Fleur Delacour.

Sleep tight, little Harry. For tomorrow, I take you down!

The Great Hall

Harry Potter couldn't help but yawn as he got seated in-between Luna and Hermione at the Ravenclaw table, his eyes naturally shifting towards the person sitting directly opposite of him. Neville had apparently decided to betray his Gryffindor classmates in order to sit with them instead, a betrayal Harry suspected was motivated by a wish to be closer to Luna. The shy young boy clearly had a thing for her, which had to be a wildly confusing affair, given Luna's… peculiar nature. Harry doubted the girl was capable of normal romance even if she tried.

Feeling his stomach growl with hunger, he decided to abandon such thoughts and instead start assembling the pieces required to make his standard breakfast meal. First there was the bread, which he took from a nearby toast rack. Then came the mayo, the tomatoes, the cheese, the ham and the lettuce, which he got from the various serving platters scattered about the table. And finally, there was the bacon, which he snatched from Luna's already stacked plate, as she was a notoriously fast eater that would usually hog all of the bacon as soon as she got her hands on it.

"Hey, I was going to eat that, Harry," she remarked in her usual calm voice as she noticed his wandering hand steal away a couple of her prized possessions.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want it back? I totally understand if you do, you only have another 17 on your plate, after all," he replied with a smile, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Hermione.

"Stop taking food from Luna, Harry. You know how she gets when someone takes her bacon."

"No, it's okay," Luna nodded, gesturing for him to keep it. "I have more than enough. Plus, I'm not feeling particularly hungry this morning."

"N-Not particularly hungry?" Neville stammered, shifting to stare at her in pure disbelief. "You have seven slices of t-toast on your plate, Luna."

"Exactly. I usually have nine."

"Neville…" Harry grinned, sending his friend a comforting look. "Just go with it, and be grateful she hasn't stolen any of your bacon yet."

"T-That's only because I never got any to b-begin with!"

"You can have some of mine if you'd like," Hermione chimed in, closing the book she had been reading and putting it away in her Bag of Unlimited Holding. "I don't think I'm going to eat it all."

"Oh… T-Thanks, Hermione."

"No problem."

"I never should have given you that bag, you know," Harry commented as he finished constructing his sandwich. "I didn't know what I was doing, giving you the ability to take all of your books with you at all times."

"Yes, it truly is a magnificent piece of magical ingenuity… I can't wait to see what you're going to get me this year," his girlfriend winked, blowing him an overexaggerated kiss.

"Ahh… I always knew you were a gold digger."

That elicited a short round of laughter from the others, including Hermione.

"True! I want that Potter money," she giggled, before running a loving hand through his unruly black hair. "And I want you."

"Good thing I can supply both, then," Harry responded, leaning into her touch ever so slightly before returning his attention to the sandwich in front of him.

It had been a while since the four of them had eaten breakfast together like this. After his reputation nosedived following the whole ordeal with Draco, Neville and Luna had made the wise decision to distance themselves from him momentarily, something he didn't blame them for. They had restricted their hangout-sessions to the Room of Requirement, where the others wouldn't find them, and avoided interaction with one another when out in public.

The only reason they were sharing a meal today was because of the early hour, which meant less students gathered in the Great Hall and less eyes focused on them.

"I don't mean to break up your romantic moment, you two, but… Do you know that girl, Harry?" Luna suddenly asked, drawing Harry's focus away from his sandwich yet again. He immediately noticed what it was Luna was referring to as soon as he lifted his eyes.

A very intense-looking girl was heading directly towards their table, her deep blue eyes focused solely on him as she walked. He vaguely recognized her as the one who had been walking next to the enormous Headmistress during the Welcoming Ceremony last night.

Unsurprisingly enough, she looked just as beautiful in her normal school attire as she did when she was all dolled-up like yesterday, and her appearance immediately drew the eyes of every male gathered in the Great Hall.

"'Arry Potter," she stated with surprising ire as she came to a stop in front of their table. "A pleasure."

"Uhh… Likewise…? Miss…?"

"Delacour. Fleur Delacour."

"Well, nice to meet you, miss Delacour… Now… Ehh… Not to be rude or anything, but... Care to explain what you're doing here?" Harry asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right.

"I 'ave something I need to talk with you about… in private," she responded, her eyes darting across the others for just a second before settling on him once again.

"Like hell you do!" Hermione suddenly sneered; her face twisted into an angry grimace. "I saw what you did yesterday… Focusing your Allure on him like that!"

"Allure?" Harry blinked, turning to look at his girlfriend.

"Yes, Allure! She's a Veela, Harry! She can hypnotize people, especially men, with her magic!"

"You can?" Harry asked, now looking at Fleur again.

"It is a part of our nature, yes. We cannot 'elp it," she shrugged, seemingly completely unfazed by Hermione and her sudden outburst.

"But you can control it, to a certain extent! And yesterday, you were TRYING to hypnotize Harry!" Hermione continued, refusing to back down.

"I was simply testing 'im," Fleur responded, a predatory smirk flashing across her face for just an instant. "I noticed that he seemed to be unaffected by my passive Allure, and simply wanted to see whether or not he was truly immune."

"Wait, hold up a minute here…" Harry frowned, sending Fleur an apprehensive look. "You tried to seduce me with your Veela-magic yesterday…? So… That slight tug at my magic… That was you?"

"Yes, that was moi," Fleur nodded with a scowl, suddenly looking a lot more frustrated. "I've never 'eard it described as a… 'slight tug' before, 'owever."

"You shouldn't go with her, Harry. She might try something!" Hermione said, staring at the French Veela with a look of pure animosity.

"And who are you to be making such claims?" Fleur stated, eyes narrowing as she turned to face Hermione.

"Oh, I don't know, his girlfriend perhaps?!"

"Hermione…" Harry sighed, moving to place a loving hand atop one of hers. "It's okay… As we have just established, I'm apparently immune to her Allure, so she wouldn't be able to seduce me even if she tried."

"But… But…"

"Look… I know you're worried, okay? But you have to trust me on this one. You are the woman I love. And no Veela party trick is ever going to change that."

"Excuse me?!" Fleur scoffed.

"… A-Alright… I trust you," Hermione breathed after thinking about it for a couple of seconds. "I just don't like it when other girls try to hit on my boyfriend."

"Believe me, I get that… I'd be equally as furious if someone tried to hit on you," Harry chuckled, earning himself a slight smile from Hermione.

"Before you go, though…" she started, a nefarious smirk coloring her features for just a moment before she suddenly jumped forwards and crashed her lips against his. The kiss she gave him was so primal and lustful that it easily drew the attention of most of the students gathered in the Great Hall, who had all been watching their little altercation with eager eyes.

Once they finally broke apart for air, Harry couldn't help but smile at the shocked expression on Fleur's face.

Hermione sure knows how to play.

"A-Are you ready to come with me now then, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, blinking twice in order to regain her composure.

"Yes, I am," Harry nodded, turning to send Hermione one last smile before getting up from his seat. "Lead the way!"

The duo left the Great Hall and headed towards the West Tower with surprising haste, ducking and weaving in-between groups of curious students as they went. Everyone they encountered on their way stopped to stare at them. Harry wasn't sure if it was because of Fleur's passive Allure or the potent combination of Beauxbatons Most Beautiful and Hogwarts Most Hated, but he wasn't planning on stopping to find out.

Once they got a little closer to their apparent destination, Harry finally realized where they were going. Fleur was taking him to the Owlery.

"Uh… Fleur?" he finally asked as they arrived at the bottom of the long, winding staircase that would take them to the top of the West Tower.

"Yes?"

"Why are you taking me to the Owlery?"

"Because I 'ave a letter to send. And because I figured we would be alone there."

"Oh… Okay…" Harry nodded, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he followed after her up the steps. It took them a good few minutes to reach the top, but neither of them were particularly winded when they got there. Both Harry and Fleur were in great shape, after all.

Once they entered the room where the birds were kept, Harry proceeded to wait and watch in silence as Fleur fished out the letter she was going to send from the inside of her clothes. Based on the way she moved to retrieve it, he guessed that she must have kept it tucked underneath the strap of her bra.

"Creative place to store a letter," he commented drily.

"It's convenient," she responded with a shrug, not embarrassed in the slightest. "Girls store things there all the time."

"They do?"

"Oui."

"Ahh… Well, the more you know."

Turning his back to him, the French Veela walked over to one of the many birdcages littering the open space to take a peek inside.

"This is one of the Rental Birds, non?"

"Yeah. Hogwarts keeps a couple of them around for students and visitors to use. Not everyone keeps their owls here at school, after all."

"I understand. We 'ave the same arrangement at Beauxbatons."

"Is that where you are sending your letter?"

"Oui."

The silence returned as she stretched her arm into the cage to retrieve a brown, fuzzy-looking owl from the inside, its massive eyes locking onto her with a hint of suspicion as she gently lifted it out.

"Do not worry, little one. I will not 'urt you. I just need you to send a letter for me."

The brown owl stared at her for a couple of seconds before flying up to land on a nearby bird stand.

"'Ere is the letter."

Holding it out in front of her, the fuzzy owl was quick to grab it with its beak before shifting to look at her with what Harry assumed to be a mix of anticipation and impatience.

"It is going to Gabrielle Delacour. You can find 'er, non?"

The bird simply turned around and launched itself out the window in response.

"I shall take that as a yes, then."

"So… with that done, mind telling me what you brought me up here for?" Harry asked, leaning up against a nearby pole as he talked.

"Of course," Fleur responded, turning around to face him. "I simply 'ave something I wish to… test."

For a moment, nothing happened. But then, out of nowhere, an overwhelming magical pressure suddenly washed over Harry. This unknown force was not painful or annoying, but rather… pleasant, and warm. It was like a gentle caress, ghosting across every inch of his skin, and he quickly found that he did not want it to end.

Staring at Fleur with wide eyes, he couldn't help but gasp at her supernatural beauty. In that moment, she looked positively radiant, and for some reason, he felt a strong need to impress and treasure her.

But then… his mind revolted. Something very powerful and very dark suddenly woke to life with a roar, tearing his hypnotized self to shreds and returning him to his senses. A terrifying anger erupted from his chest, spreading out into every part of his body before consuming him entirely.

"STOP!" Harry commanded, sneering at the French Veela with such hostility it caused her to physically recoil. The magical pressure disappeared as swiftly as it had started, leaving him feeling both hollow and angry at the same time.

"What the fuck did you just do to me?!" he snarled, grabbing ahold of Fleur's hair to tilt her head upwards, forcing her to look at him.

"I-I… didn't mean to…"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?"

"I used my Allure on you!"

"Don't lie to me! That felt nothing like it did yesterday!"

"T-That's because… yesterday… I was only directing a m-modest amount at you. Today, I g-gave you a full blast."

Harry had to take a deep breath in order to stop himself from snapping her neck then and there.

"And why… on God's green Earth… did you think that would be a good idea?"

"I-I just wanted to see if you were truly immune!"

A couple of nerve-wracking seconds went by as Harry considered her answer. Then, he abruptly let go of her hair.

"Don't ever do something like that to me again," he growled. "Do you understand?"

Fleur swiftly nodded in response, eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Good. In return… I'll stay out of your way. And I expect you to do the same for me."

This time, he didn't bother to wait for an answer. Turning around, Harry left the Owlery at a brisk pace, leaving a now thoroughly shocked French Veela behind. Needless to say, he couldn't wait to get away from Fleur Delacour and her filthy seductress magic.

One Day Later

The Great Hall was filled with life by the time Harry got there. The constant buzzing of hundreds of students all talking over one another in unison was deafening, but as the years had gone by, Harry found that he had grown accustomed to it. Privet Drive had never really meant anything to him, so Hogwarts was the closest thing he'd ever come to having a real childhood home. And the sound of people talking like this was just one of those things that made Hogwarts, Hogwarts.

Finding his seat next to the other Ravenclaws, he shot Hermione a quick wink before letting his eyes wander over towards the other side of the room, where he spotted Fleur sitting in the middle of a huge crowd of female Beauxbatons students. The sight of her alone caused his lips to pull up into a sneer.

He hadn't spoken to her since the incident in the Owlery. Dragging him away from his girlfriend, just to blast him with her Allure? Seriously, who did she think she was? That pretentious bitch…

"SILENCE!"

The voice of Albus Dumbledore tore through the chatty atmosphere of the Great Hall, shushing the students and commanding everyone's attention.

"Welcome, any and all, to the Selection Ceremony for the Triwizard Tournament! Today is the day we reveal whom gets chosen as Triwizard Champions! You have now had 48 hours to enter your names into the Goblet of Fire, and as of this moment, that entrance period is at an end! Now, the Goblet shall decide which of you are worthy of participating in this distinguished event. Bartemius, if you would do us the honor."

The Ministry man clad in black robes rose from his seat, and walked up to the podium. Dumbledore gave him a quick pat on the back, before gesturing towards the Goblet, which had been placed in the open space in front of the four enormous tables.

Pulling out his wand, the stern-looking man pointed it towards the Goblet before uttering a silent spell that only he could hear. The fire on top of the bronze object immediately grew in size, crackling with such ferocity it made the students sitting at the front jump in their seats.

As the lights in the Great Hall dimmed, the fire changed color to a deep purple, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Harry stared at it as if entranced, along with the other students. It truly was a captivating piece of spellwork.

Suddenly, the flame seemed to bulge with extreme pressure before shooting out a single spark of purple fire high into the air, which gave way to the smoking form of one burnt piece of parchment, floating in circles down towards the ground. As the students watched it fall, Dumbledore stretched out his hand and grabbed it out of the air with surprising speed.

"Now then: the first Triwizard Champion, hailing from the school of Durmstrang, is… Viktor Krum!"

The entire hall burst out in applause, none louder than the Durmstrang students, who were currently busy dogpiling Krum. The Bulgarian seeker held a clenched fist high in the air in a gesture of victory as his classmates surrounded him on all sides, congratulating him on his admittance into the Tournament.

Not surprising, Harry thought to himself as he watched the burly teenager celebrate. Of course he would be the one to represent Durmstrang.

As the hustle and bustle slowly died down, the fire started growing in size yet again, before shooting out another piece of burning parchment. And just like before, Dumbledore stretched out his hand to catch it as it fell to the ground.

"The second Triwizard Champion, hailing from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, is… Fleur Delacour!"

A loud cheer went out from the girls gathered around Fleur, and Harry couldn't help but scoff at their reaction. So, the pretentious bitch had made it into the Tournament as well, huh? It was almost enough to make him regret not finding a way to slip his own name into the Goblet, just so he could have a shot at besting her. That would've probably been enough to knock her down a peg or two, at least.

Finally, the fire charged up once again, before shooting out the last name of the evening, the name of the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion. Everyone in the Great Hall held their collective breaths as Dumbledore caught the last piece of parchment in his hand, a weak smile flashing across his face as he read the name written on it.

"And the final Triwizard Champion, hailing from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is… Cedric Diggory!"

This time, the applause was through the roof. Every student from Hogwarts got up from their seats to give Cedric a standing ovation, and judging by the huge smile plastered on the handsome boys' face, he didn't exactly dislike the attention.

"That concludes the selection process of the Triwizard Champions. The First Task is scheduled to take place on November 24th, and so I hope to see all of you there, cheering on your favorite Champion. Well met, students, and off to bed!"

As the students in the Great Hall started getting ready to leave, Harry noticed something… weird… going on with the Goblet out of the corner of his eye. The fire crackling on top of it hadn't died down, as he had suspected it would. If anything, it seemed to have increased in size. And as he watched, the fire suddenly bulged with pressure, before shooting out yet another piece of parchment.

Everyone instantly went silent. Even the Headmaster seemed to be at a loss for words as they watched the parchment fall towards the ground in a steady decline. Nobody knew how to react. Had the Goblet misfired? Was there some sort of error with any of the previously chosen Champions?

The undisturbed silence continued as Dumbledore slowly approached the now cool piece of parchment, before bending over and picking it up. Harry observed the Headmaster's reaction as he read the name written on it, his eyes growing wide and confused behind his half-moon spectacles.

"...er", the Headmaster said.

The students all sent each other questioning stares, as nobody had been able to hear what the Headmaster had just said.

"Harry Potter," the Headmaster read, louder this time.

All the blood in Harry's veins immediately froze to ice as he heard his name, his mind going numb from sheer surprise. Every logical thought in his head turned to smoke, and an eerie sense of foreboding washed over him. On his right, he heard Hermione let out a gasp of pure shock.

No… There's no way…

Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. There was no way it should have been able to pick him. And yet, for some reason… it had.

Everyone's attention was fixed on him as he slowly opened his mouth to speak.

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but… there must be some sort of mistake here. I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire," he sputtered, his mind clouded by confusion and uncertainty.

Why is this happening?

How is this happening?

I didn't put my name in the Goblet…

Has there been some sort of error? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?

Professor McGonagall came rushing over to Dumbledore's side, grabbing his arm with a shaky hand.

"Albus, there is no way we can allow him to participate! He is only a boy, for Merlin's sake!" she whispered ferociously, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Dumbledore slowly turned around to face her, his face an expressionless mask.

"Bartemius… What say you? Is there any way we can pull Harry Potter out of this tournament?" he asked, his gaze remaining locked on Professor McGonagall as he spoke. The black-robed man from the Ministry looked just as flabbergasted as everyone else, but slowly started shaking his head from side to side.

"N-No… The Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract. The boy must participate… It is the only option."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in defeat, suddenly looking every bit his age.

"So be it then. The fourth Triwizard Champion… will be Harry Potter."

The Great Hall instantly erupted with shouts and complaints.

"No fair!"

"Why does he get to participate?! He's too young!"

"Is it just because he's the Boy-Who-Lived?!"

"Redo the Selection Ceremony!"

"We don't want Potter to represent us!"

"What about Cedric?!"

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore thundered, his magically enhanced voice reverberating against the stone walls, muffling the complaints. "You all heard what Bartemius just said! The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract that must be upheld, no matter what. Harry Potter will represent this school alongside Cedric Diggory, and that decision is final!"

A few weak protests sounded in response to Dumbledore's statement, but the majority wisely chose to keep their objections to themselves. Harry still felt the weight of their angry, accusing stares all the same, however.

It wasn't supposed to go like this…

This wasn't supposed to happen...

Who put my name in the Goblet of Fire?

Was it Voldemort?

Is he back again?

A maelstrom of questions pelted Harry's mind from every angle, but he couldn't afford to give in to their relentless barrage. Right now, he had to get out of here. He had to find Hermione and leave, as quickly as he could.

His admittance into the Triwizard Tournament changed everything. All of his plans for a quiet study year had to be scrapped, as his life was once again in danger. And this time, it was more serious than anything he had faced before.

There was only one thing he could do now. Only one thing that would help him survive the ordeals to come.

The ritual… he thought to himself, turning to send Hermione a hard stare filled with grim determination. It happens tonight.

A/N: Uhh yeah, so, it's like, 04:30 AM in the morning here now and I am about to pass out in front of my computer lol.

You have no idea how long it took me to write this chapter. I've probably rewritten it at least half a dozen times at this point, and to be honest, I genuinely can't tell if it's good anymore. It was, without a doubt, the worst challenge I've faced so far with this story.

I really hope you like it.

Anyway, I don't have much more to say, I'm afraid. I'm so tired of working on this chapter that I can barely think straight. Read, review, all that shit, and I'll see you guys... in the next chapter.

A very tired Twisted, out.