Helga led the way to the annex, her father a few steps behind her and a woman who looked to be in her fifties who wore navy blue robes right beside him. She did not have to turn around to know that neither of them were in a charitable mood with the school. Especially the Headmaster.

She had been relaxing in the courtyard, having a cordial discussion with one Blaise Zabini, in the corner and out of the way of prying eyes, when a letter fluttered it's way to her. The parchment landed in her awaiting hand and she glanced over at Blaise with a murmur of, "Excuse me, I feel as if I should read this."

Blaise had merely nodded and Helga had opened the letter to see her father's handwriting asking her to come to the Headmaster's Office as the Headmaster was not yet there and they had a schedule they had to keep.

Michael Jones did not sound pleased.

She excused herself and made her way to the Headmaster's office, and when she saw the two standing there, she offered to take them to where the "Tournament Preparations" were taking place, as Godric had informed her earlier.

The door loomed in front of her and she strode quickly to it and gave a brisk knock before entering. The sight in front of her had her composed facade nearly slipping. Godric stood in front of Harry, his hand on a woman's wrist who had a hold of Harry's shoulder.

" - alone with him," she heard the last of Godric's sentence. The others in the room, the champions for the other schools as well as the pudgy man - Bagman - were merely watching.

She stepped aside and allowed her father and the woman with him into the room.

Michael went towards Godric and Harry, Godric having just released the woman in green who had a floating quill and parchment beside her. Helga called out, "Hello, Ric, Harry."

"Ric?" The woman perked up and the quill started scritching away. "I thought your name was Fay?"

Godric turned to Helga, careful to keep himself between the woman and Harry as Michael went directly to the boy. "Hello, Helga. We are just about to go have our wands weighed."

"Actually, Harry here is going to have an interview with me for the Prophet."

Godric sighed and said, "As I said before, Miss Skeeter, as Harry is still underage his family would have to be notified as you are wanting a private interview, not one with all the contestants present. Now, please excuse us."

Before they could actually move anywhere, Dumbledore walked into the room with an elderly man. "I apologize for the delay, Mister Ollivander has arrived and Minervra had an incident to take care of. If you will excuse me, I must head to my -" he cut off when his sharp eyes caught sight of the two additional adults and Helga. "Miss Jones and, I assume, Mr. Jones and Mrs. Heathertop. I apologize for the delay, I was just about to head to my office for our meeting."

Mrs. Heathertop stepped forward towards Dumbledore, a polite smile in place. "Of course, and I do apologize for the intrusion." Her eyes cut quickly to Skeeter, who had her quill posed for more information, so she simply said, "If we could go to your office, we can proceed."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore quickly ushered them out of the room.

"Come along, Harry. If your wand needs to be weighed, we'll do so at a later time," Michael said, ushering Harry to follow him. The young Gryffindor followed gratefully. Helga was the last one to leave, closing the door quietly behind her.

- - - - Founders - - - -

The Triwizard Tournament was banned in Europe for centuries due to the colossal volume of deaths to its competitors. Yet, for reasons this reporter doesn't know, this year Hogwarts is once more hosting the event of the decade. The Champions are Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, and Fay Dunbay and Harry Potter from Hogwarts.

Yes, you read that right my readers. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is competing in the Triwizard Tournament much to the surprise of everyone involved. Including, if he's to be believed, the boy himself.

Viktor Krum is no stranger to the public eye as he's the youngest seeker to play in the World Cup. It was Viktor's catch of the snitch that ensured his team's recent loss to the Irish.

Fleur Delacour may seem familiar to some readers. That's because she too is a public figure. Her father is none other than the Minster to the French Ministry for Magic.

But who is that girl standing defiantly beside our hero? Why that is little Fay Dunbay, a fourth year Gryffindor and Harry Potter's girlfriend. That's right, Harry's girlfriend! What's more, that little spitfire is quite jealous of anyone approaching Harry. Why, she wouldn't even let me near him for our interview.

What is it that she fears? The competition? Well, Miss Dunbay. Other females aren't who you should be worrying about. This reporter thinks you'd be better off concentrating on the tasks ahead.

- - - - Bonus Scene - Salazar - - - -

"Thought."

"Yes?"

"The man only drinks from his flask periodically."

"...Yes."

"What if we switch the flask out soon after he's sipped from it? Then it would be a while before he notices a difference, by then we can have the original hidden elsewhere."

"That thought has merit."

"Why must you sound so surprised when I have a good idea?" Godric asked.

Salazar chuckled as he continued walking. "You still need to figure out how to create a duplicate without having your hands on the original."

"Bollocks."

- - - - End Bonus Scene - Salazar - - - -

Helga ran her fingers over the smooth scales of Ismanna, letting the soft hisses of her girl calm her frazzled nerves. She had come down seven times in the past twenty days in an attempt to be near Ismanna, but her girl had only been in the laboratory one other time.

The day of the first task neared, as it was the Saturday morning before the task, and Mrs. Heathertop was tirelessly working on Harry's case. She said she could do it, it just came down to how quickly the paperwork could be turned in along with the evidence.

What had taken the longest had been the evidence, as the piece of parchment had conveniently gone missing and hadn't been found until that very day.

Magical contracts, while binding, only worked when the participants submitted their names themselves. A second party could be used if the name was written with the correct phrasing. As that did not happen, all that was required to nullify the contract was the original parchment taken to the Ministry in the contract division and they would have it handled.

Mrs. Heathertop went in with the parchment a few hours ago and had claimed she would not leave until she had it in writing and saw the change under Harry's name. She had declared that the fiasco would be over that evening and Harry would not have to compete.

Ismanna nudged her giant head against Helga's chest gently as she unwravelled herself. When Helga met large yellow eyes Ismanna brought her tail around and wrapped it loosely around Helga's wrist, the very tip resting against the ring. Ismanna tapped it a few times.

"Do I need to call the others?"

A quiet hiss and another tap.

"Sal?"

Ismanna nodded her large head and released her hold on Helga before gently resting her head in Helga's lap. With a quiet laugh, she asked, "Is it news?" The tail came back up and wrapped around her wrist once more. "I'm going to take that as a yes." She giggled at the soft squeeze before her girl released her.

Helga brushed her opposite hand over the ring and sent out a pulse of magic, letting the message change to: Sal. Iss talk. Meet?

The response came back almost immediately: Thirty minutes.

She leaned back against Ismanna, speaking about her day and listening to Ismanna reply. It hadn't been five minutes when she heard movement coming from the attached library. The door opened and Ismanna hissed a greeting.

"Hello, Iss. I'm assuming Helga is with you?"

"Good morning, Ric. Were you curious?"

"More like escaping everyone. Apparently most of the school isn't happy that I'm the chosen Hogwarts champion. I'm too young, I'm female, I'm Gryffindor , and the news that I said that I'm a guy in a female body has spread school wide. And, apparently, I fancy Harry! And Moody is getting on my very last nerves." Helga giggled and ignored the huff coming from the area where Godric was. She could hear him stomp his way to his back corner where his paints were. "I'm painting you in a tutu, robes, and ugly sneakers."

"You wouldn't."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Godric Gryffindor."

"Helga Hufflepuff."

She dropped the firm tone and laughed. "Draw me however you please if it will help."

A sigh left Godric. "Any suggestions?"

"What's most on your mind?"

"Mmm... Death mostly."

Helga straightened at the almost... detached words from Godric. She stood and carefully climbed over Ismanna, her girl helping her along by letting Helga step on her tail and lifting her high enough over.

Godric stood in front of his easel, when Helga asked, "What do you mean, death?"

The man blinked and glanced over at her, a smile tilting his lips up at the sight. "Oh. I simply would like to plunge my sword into Moody's chest in such a way that it would take him a long time to bleed out. I would stand guard, of course, so he wouldn't heal himself. However, I have to remind myself that I cannot simply do so no matter how much I wish otherwise."

"He certainly is a beast," Helga allowed as she carefully maneuvered her way over to him. "So what will you paint?"

"Nothing right now. Fifteen minutes is hardly enough time to paint something, though I feel maybe just throwing paint would probably make me feel better." He grinned at her, reaching and grabbing a brush and waved it towards her. "How would you like to be painted?"

"I will pass, thank you."

"Is Ric bored again?"

Godric pulled out the chair at his workstation and stretched his legs out as Rowena came into the room. "Needing a distraction, more like. There's only so many wards we can alter each week, especially with the increase of people in the castle."

Rowena nodded at Godric's answer and went to the sofa to wait. When Helga moved to sit next to Rowena and away from Godric's manic grin and waving of his brush, Salazar entered the room and chuckled at seeing them all there.

"Of course when I am summoned, you all follow."

"When the queen has news, we listen, Sal."

Salazar ignored Godric as Ismanna's head snapped up at the sound of Salazar's voice and immediately started talking to him.

Helga watched as Salazar's eyes narrowed before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply before nodding, and responding back to her.

"Is everything alright?" Helga asked.

"Give me one moment to finish explaining the idiocy of the Headmasters and proctors."

Godric strode over to the others and the three shared a worried look as Ismanna finally laid her head back down and Salazar turned to them.

"Ismanna has figured out what the first task is."

Helga nodded. "And that is?"

"Dragons. In Ismanna's words: mummy dragons."

Helga paused, looked at Salazar, and asked in a monotone voice, "I beg your pardon?"