Harry stood in the dark entrance hall, the fire of the Goblet illuminating the space with a flickering blue light. He walked through the age line surrounding the cup and lifted his hand. He dropped a slip of parchment with his name on it into the Goblet. It flashed and-

Harry awoke with a gasp. His mark burned.

Something was very wrong here. The dream had felt like the one from the summer, where he had seen Voldemort. But that would mean…

Harry leapt out of bed and grabbed the Marauder's Map. He activated it and found the entrance hall as quickly as he could.

There was a dot labeled Tom Riddle in the entrance hall.

Shit.

Harry entered the Dark and flew downwards, passing through floors and walls and occasionally sleeping people as he made a beeline for the Goblet of Fire.

HERMIONE! Voldemort is in the castle.

Wha… Harry…WHAT?

Entrance hall, ASAP!

Harry rocketed towards his target and seconds later he was flying through the ceiling of the wide hall. The Goblet of Fire remained, its burning soul dancing, but the hall was empty.

Above the cup, written in flaming letters, a message floated in the air.

WIN, MY NEMESIS.

Harry stared at the words and sighed. He pulled out the map, and sure enough, there was no Tom Riddle to be found.

Voldemort was playing with him.

The doors on the side of the hall that led to Gryffindor Tower flew off their hinges as Hermione exploded into the hall. Her eyes flashed from Harry to the message as he shook his head. She floated up to him even as the burning letters faded away.

They both looked a bit silly, floating in the firelight in their pajamas.

"He's messing with me. And planning something. I saw him enter my name into the Goblet. I knew that this tournament was bad news."

Hermione nodded. "He's definitely laying a trap for you, Harry. But what is the trap, what do we do about it?"

"We'll talk to Albus and make a plan. This is going to be a mess with all of the other schools and media involved. Do you think the Blade of the Castle could break the Goblet's chains?"

"Probably," Hermione chewed her lip as she considered, "although it would probably destroy the Goblet. I don't think that the fragments can be truly destroyed, so between the two of them the cup would break first. I have no idea what that would do though. The Goblet feels like it would do something horrible if it was forced to give up its prize."

"I agree. More things to consider with Albus then. Do you want to come along for the chat?"

"No, I'll leave you to your strange bromance with the headmaster. I'm going back to bed."

"That's fair. Sorry to drag you out of bed for a prank call."

…

"Good morning, Albus. Voldemort just dropped a flaming sack of shit on our front porch, rang the bell and ran away."

…

"A most interesting development. I hadn't considered that anyone could be entered into the tournament involuntarily."

Harry and Albus once again sat across from one another in his cluttered office.

"It's not really relevant, but I'm curious. Why was that not an issue, if anyone can enter anyone else's name?"

Albus steepled his fingers in front of him. "Because they cannot. The Goblet is an ancient artifact, able to perceive and judge the souls of those who interact with it. The name on the parchment must be the true identity of the soul who enters it, and the person must intend to enter the contract. The Goblet cannot be lied to."

"Alright, I'll bite. How did Voldemort do it then?"

"From what you have told me, Voldemort used the connection between you to draw your soul into his for just this purpose. In the moment that he entered your name, your soul was also present within whoever Voldemort was possessing. In addition, Voldemort obviously intended to enter you into the contract. In that second, there were no violations to the fail-safes of the cup. It was simply a combination of factors that I had not considered possible until now."

"Well, it's good to know that random people can't be entered as a prank or something. More importantly though, what are our options?"

Dumbledore hummed pensively. "Voldemort's motives remain difficult to ascertain. Your precious dream indicates that he wishes to capture or kidnap you in some way. The tournament may open many opportunities for him to do so. However, Voldemort has a habit of setting events in motion where he cannot lose. It is possible that attempting to circumvent his trap is, in itself, a trap. The most obvious of which is using the Sword of Gryffindor to break the chains of the Goblet."

"Yeah, Hermione also assumed that would be bad."

"Miss Granger assumes correctly. While the sword is capable of breaking all chains, doing so would cause untold and unpredictable damage. It is possible that the Goblet would kill everyone else who entered their name as it died. It is likely that the Goblet would release any souls that are currently chained within it. The magical backlash of a fragment of divinity directly opposing an object such as the Goblet may simply remove the surrounding area from existence. Voldemort would most likely find it incredibly amusing if we were so unwilling to march to the beat of his drum that we destroyed Hogwarts ourselves in doing so.

Harry nodded. "So, let's not do that. We can't cancel the tournament, can we?"

"No, once the Goblet has been lit, the terms of its contract must be completed. We might be able to engineer a situation where all contestants agreed to forfeit, but that in itself may be a trap that we cannot yet see, and it would remove what little ability we have to predict Voldemort's actions."

"It sounds like our best plan is to simply spring the obvious trap and hope for the best. It will give us the most information about the Dark Lord's plans, and it allows us to control as many of the variables as possible."

"I agree. Your name will undoubtedly come out of the Goblet. We will handle any opposition from the other schools and the ministry. You will win the tournament in a way that does as little damage to our collective reputation as possible, and hopefully along the way we will discover the true intent of Voldemort's plans and will be able to counter them effectively. Is this course of action agreeable to you, Harry?"

Harry leaned back and groaned. "I suppose a normal year of school was too much to ask."

"You suppose correctly."

…

A smoldering slip of parchment was launched into the air as the Goblet spat out a fourth name.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry played his part and stood tall, walking towards the staff table as the souls of the students flickered and sparked. His friends already knew what was going to happen, but he was sure that there would be all kinds of interesting reactions from the rest of the school.

When Cedric's name had come out, Harry had been momentarily hopeful that something in Voldemort's plan had gone wrong.

But no, Voldemort had entered Harry in a fourth category to ensure that he got his time in the limelight. Fantastic.

Harry nodded at Albus as he passed, heading for the indicated door out of the hall.

He walked into the antechamber where the other three champions stood. They looked up in surprise as he approached.

"Do they want us back in the hall?" The blonde Veela asked. Fleur Delacour, Harry remembered.

"Nope!" Harry grinned widely, "I tricked the cup into including me as a fourth champion. Surprise!"

Cedric just groaned and smacked his hand to his forehead. Harry wondered what it said about him as a person that Cedric didn't even consider that he was lying.

"What?" Delacour and Krum exclaimed at the same time.

Bagman bounced into the room, followed by the school heads and several teachers. "Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary! May I introduce our fourth Triwizard champion!"

"This is not a joke?" Krum asked.

"Certainly not! Harry's name has just come out of the Goblet."

"There must be a mistake. He cannot compete, he is too young." Delacour stated haughtily while eyeing Harry suspiciously. Harry just grinned back and did the equivalent of flicking her soul on the nose. She did not look happy about this.

Dumbledore spoke up. "Unfortunately, the age restriction was only imposed by the ministry as a safety measure. Once the champions have been chosen, they must compete. It is part of the binding contract with the Goblet. Technically, the rule was that underage students may not enter the tournament, not that they could not compete if they were chosen as champion."

"And I'm sure you're pleased about this, Albus! Twice the chance of a Hogwarts victory!" Karkaroff shouted.

Harry tuned out and decided to float parallel to the floor with his hands behind his head for a while as the adults argued.

It was also funny to watch the people who weren't used to his abilities try not to glance over at him and his blatant flight powers.

"These are all excellent points, but ultimately irrelevant. We cannot relight the Goblet, and we cannot cancel the tournament now that the champions have been selected. Our only option is to make the best of the situation and proceed with the tournament as planned. Harry, that will be five points from Gryffindor for tampering with a highly magical object and interfering with international relations."

Harry thought that Albus might be enjoying this a bit too much.

"I feel that is a fair and just punishment, headmaster. I do think that I deserve some credit; I could have just entered my name normally and deprived the rest of Hogwarts of the chance to compete. I did everyone a favor, really."

Harry wondered whether Delacour or Karkaroff would spontaneously combust first.

…

"You just had to be the center of attention, didn't you?"

Ron also looked close to spontaneous combustion.

"Look Ron, I entered my name as a fourth champion so that I wouldn't take the opportunity away from anyone at Hogwarts. And even if you don't believe me, the method that I used to bypass the age line wouldn't have worked for anyone else."

This could even be potentially true. None of the others had mastered the Shroud of Death, after all.

Ron still looked a bit peeved. Possibly more than peeved.

"It wasn't enough that you're already famous and rich and can fly and throw lightning or whatever?"

"I mean, that's all super fun, but what's the point if I have nothing to throw my lightning at? I think the tournament will be lots of fun. Besides, did you think you were going to beat Cedric or Delacour even if you got in? What about Krum, you know, the famous quidditch-playing incubus?"

Ron looked ready to continue his tirade until that last part. "Wait… what?"

Luna was definitely on to something with the whole 'spontaneous confusion' thing.

"Don't worry about it. Anywho, you are welcome to let me live in your head for as long as you want, but I've got a tournament to win, so I'll catch you later!"

Harry turned invisible and flew away.

…

"I still don't like this plan, Harry. It makes you sound like a glory hog or something." Hermione sighed as they sat in their clearing while the sun rose.

"It's not exactly ideal, but it's better to steer into the metaphorical skid and honestly, if Voldemort wasn't hunting me, I might have entered the tournament just for grins and giggles."

"You've definitely been spending too much time with Luna."

"I disagree. A little bit of chaos is good for the soul."

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Fine. Just try not to get sued for slander or something along the way."

"I don't think that wizards even have slander laws. Look at all the stuff they published after the Dementor attack."

"Just another thing we'll have to fix when..."

"You were about to say, 'when we take over the world', weren't you?"

"Absolutely not."

…

Harry felt Albus' magic tapping on his metaphysical shoulder and let the connection between their magic form as he ate breakfast.

I have been informed about the first task. You will be required to take an egg from a nesting Dragon. This is obviously concerning for multiple reasons."

"The Mark."

"Indeed. I cannot dissuade the ministry without a good reason, and revealing the true nature of the Mark will do more harm than good."

"So, I get to fight a demon possessed dragon. Lovely."

"You will also be required to avoid the forbidden forest for the foreseeable future. The only thing worse than one demonic dragon would be four demonic dragons."

"That's just peachy. How do you want to play this, then?"

"I will ensure that the audience is safe. Based on my estimates, this will most likely take up the majority of my attention if you are not able to subdue the dragon quickly. Killing the beast would negatively impact your public perception, even if it would increase your power in their eyes. The task is not to slay the dragon."

"So ideally, I would subdue the dragon without killing it, in front of everyone, while you make sure that no one but me gets toasted?"

"That would wrap things up nicely, yes."

"I'll work on it."

…

"Wand weighing?"

"We have to check if your wands are fully functional and-"

"But I don't use a wand."

Bagman looked nonplussed. "Don't… what?"

"I don't use a wand. I still have one, but it hasn't left my trunk since third year. The holster was starting to chafe. I don't like relying on it anyway."

"That's… Mr Potter, you must let us check your wand, just in case…"

"It's not like I'll be using it for the tasks. I guess I could summon it if you want?"

"That… might be for the best. In the meantime, this is Rita Skeeter. She'll be covering the tournament for the Daily Prophet."

"Thank you, Ludo. It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. Could I have a word before we start?"

Her soul was poisonous.

"I'm going to go with… no. I don't want to. Thanks anyway!"

Harry walked away as Rita spluttered. He headed over to the other champions.

"Alright there, Harry?" Cedric greeted.

"Spectacular, thanks for asking. Anyone nervous about their wands being weighed? Oh, the first task is dragons, by the way."

Harry cackled internally at their faces. If he was forced to deal with this tournament, the least he could do was enjoy it as much as possible.

"How could you possibly know that?" Delacour hissed.

"I have a magical map that tells me things."

This was technically true, even if it didn't tell him about the dragons.

"We must slay them?" Krum asked. At least he asked the important questions.

"I don't think so, just get past them? Or steal an egg from them? Something like that."

Cedric looked a bit green but nodded. "Thank you for telling us, Harry. We might have stumbled in blind otherwise."

Delacour didn't look like she agreed with that statement.

Before Harry could pester them anymore, they were called over to have their wands weighed.

Oh. Summoning my wand. Right.

Harry picked out the spark of phoenix fire up in his dorm room and called it to him. He wondered if anyone noticed the wand working its way through the castle.

"May I introduce Mr Ollivander. He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition for the tournament."

Harry's wand flew under the door and into his hand.

"Right. Mademoiselle Delacour first then, if you please."

Harry tuned out while the others had their wands tested. It wasn't very exciting.

"Which leaves… Mr Potter."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the odd wandmaker before he walked forward and handed over his holly and Phoenix feather wand.

"Ah yes… I remember this wand well. A small piece of the Immortal Fire, and strong Holly. Even if you don't use it anymore. We all must grow past our crutches eventually, don't we?"

Harry just nodded. Ollivander still creeped him out.

"Well, even if it is superfluous, it's working very well indeed. Thank you, Mr Potter."

…

"Wow, they really went all out with this." Hermione sipped her morning coffee as she pored over the newspaper.

"You know, I suddenly agree with you about this plan."

Harry's face took up a good portion of the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"More comparisons to Merlin, "a wandless savant", oh and they did bring back The Slayer. Lots of fun stuff in here."

"You'll find that I have risen above such petty concerns."

"Sure you have, Death Walker. Speculation about what your parents would think of you, more experts brought in to discuss your supposed 'anomalous magical core'. Oh, here we go, they do talk about the other champions down here after all."

"Maybe I should have turned Skeeter into a carrot like Luna suggested."

"I think that you should have turned her into a beetle!" Luna chirped from across the table.

"Next time, don't worry."

"What was that about 'rising above' those kinds of things?"

"I'll be even higher above her if she's a beetle."

…