Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any character, story element or plot item originally published in the Harry Potter books or movies that I may refer to in this story. I'm merely playing in the sandbox.

Author's note: Welcome back, dear reader, to another of my random ideas that I don't know what else to do with.

I both dedicate this to and blame Robst for it. I was listening to a narration of Proud Parents…as an aside, NaturalReader is a pretty cool app that reads text on the screen out loud to you. For those like me with visual impairment, it's a true blessing. During it, at the scene where the many names came out of the goblet, I had this crazy kind of "What if" thought. Features an angry vengeful Harry who has had quite enough. Also, despite that, it is a bit less heavy than the last tale.

"Harry Potter."

You've got to be kidding me. As the fourth name came out of the Goblet, Harry realized that this was going to be like every other year, someone trying to kill him. Looking around the room, he could see angry, hate filled eyes that seemed suited to Second Year. Maybe this is a thing with even years? So, sixth year I have to fight a dragon or something with a butter knife?

"Harry Potter!"

"Go, Harry." Hermione's frustrated look told him that she believed he did it. The angry glare from Ron seemed to repeat the sentiment.

As he rose, another name came out. This made him pause. He wanted to know who else was sucked into this. Dumbledore caught the parchment and frowned. "Dobby the elf?"

Dobby popped into the room and Harry snorted. "So much for Tri and Wizard, hunh?"

Dobby looked at him. "Dobby was picked?"

"Looks like it."

"Both of you, into the room." Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose. Harry walked, but Dobby just popped away. As he entered the doorway, he turned and eyed the room. Tonight, was going as expected. "Even years are a waste."

He entered the room, and they were staring at Dobby. Snape was telling him to leave, and Dobby spoke up. "Headmaster says to come here, so I come here. Dobby does not work for you, but for Hogwarts."

Snape's glare intensified, both at the elf and on seeing him. Cedric was the one to speak. "Harry, do they need us back in there?"

"Nope, I was picked, too."

As he walked over to join them, Fleur Delacour scoffed. "This little boy will be participating?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "This little boy slew a sixty-foot basilisk with a sword, princess."

Moody laughed as he walked in. "That's right, Potter. Take no guff from the blonde."

She glared at both of them, and the adults arguing about Hogwarts having two champions. Harry just ignored them until hands grabbed him.

"Harry, did you…" Whatever question Dumbledore was asking ended when he drew his wand and cast an Expelliarmus fueled by his fury. This blasted the man a dozen feet back, knocking his wand in the air. Harry snapped out and grabbed the wand, tossing it behind him into the fireplace.

"Potter!"

"Can it, Death Eater. Petunia and Vernon and their whale of an offspring may manhandle me because I'm not allowed to fight back there, with my precious relatives, but I won't be assaulted here."

"Petunia…you're with her?"

"What do you care? Sad that your 'little celebrity' that you pick on so much might have an actual complaint about life?"

Snape looked troubled, but Dumbledore held his gaze now. "What have you done?"

"You put your hands on me again and I'm putting you in the infirmary. I'm not taking it anymore. This stupid Tournament has the entire school turning against me again and I'm done." He scowled at the old man. "I have half a mind to snap my wand and walk out of here."

This brought the room to silence. "You would lose your magic."

"Hated in the muggle world, hated in the magic world, what's the difference?"

Dumbledore seemed lost, so Moody spoke next. "How did the elf get into the Tournament?"

"Dobby sensed Harry Potter's magic in the cup, so Dobby entered too. Dobby will help Harry Potter."

"How did you sense my magic?" Harry's eyes narrowed. "Dobby, who are you boded to?" Dobby twisted his ears, then wailing began to slam his head against the wall. "Dobby, stop!"

Dobby instantly stopped and Harry sighed. "Dobby is bonded to Harry Potter, sir."

"Well, if Granger hadn't turned on me already, I'd say she would for this." He shrugged. "Give us our instructions already and let me leave so I can be lynched in the House of the Cowards."

Crouch spoke, seemingly unphased by the events of the night. "To complete the first task, you must be brave. You will be given no information other than that."

"That…is asinine." Harry looked over at Dobby. "Dobby, you can't compete in a tea towel. You need a uniform. Can you wear a uniform if you make it?"

Dobby nodded. Dobby sews all the time."

"Good. I have three orders for you." He held up a finger for each as he spoke. "One, you will not punish yourself without talking to me. I don't like that. Two, you and I will discuss uniforms in the library. Maybe do a bit of research to see what they've used before. Three, I want you to do your best. Get the highest score you can. Your uniform will have my crest, if I have one. I want you do House Potter proud." As Dobby nodded, he held up a fourth finger. "I thought of a fourth. I want you to, without laying a finger on her, humiliate this little princess witch. Kick her petite little French derriere so hard that she regrets stepping into this country."

Dobby got a devilish smile and Harry turned a cold gaze on her, satisfied that she shivered a little bit. "I'm going to do the same. This little boy can't stand arrogance. If I can tromp you at every turn, I will. Just stay out of my way or get bowled over."

Harry turned and left the room, pausing as he heard Dobby tell the witch that she would regret challenging the great Harry Potter. He wasn't feeling so great, but that was neither here nor there.

Author's Note: I can see this being a short piece and I may write it as such. Dobby competing would really be something else.