It was the Halloween feast, and things had gone well. Harry and his friends had just sat down at the long Gryffindor table and were waiting for the meal to officially start. Mental Harry had nearly finished on the first large construct in his mindscape. It should be done in a few days now, and he was interested to see what it would be like.

One thing that had happened over the last week was the arrival of two strange vehicles. First was an ancient and old wooden ship that had suddenly risen upwards out of the water of the great lake all of the sudden. The next was a giant chariot pulled through the air by a team of pegasi until it landed on the great lawn. Headmistress McGonagall had gone inside both of them, but no else one had emerged from them yet. Rumors were wildly flying around the school about what it all meant.

Also, most of the students were still giving Harry envious looks as he easily answered any questions the professor asked and got perfect scores on every test. But Harry was fairly used to that by now, so he didn’t mind it too much.

Harry eyed the new man who was sitting at the professors table. Barty Crouch Senior, one of the people who had signed off on Sirius being imprisoned without a trial. Why was he here? Even though Dumbledore was receiving the lion's share of the blame for everything, people weren’t exactly fond of Barty Crouch Sr. at the moment.

Harry noticed many of the Slytherins shooting dirty looks at the man, many of the old families were still in an uproar at what they viewed as the intentional suppression of the Heir of the Black family line. And Crouch was the face of that right next to Dumbledore.

McGonagall stood up and used a spell to amplify her voice. Usually she would say a few words at every dinner before clapping to signal the house elves in the castle to begin serving the food.

But today she took a deep breath and seemed to be gearing up for a larger speech.

“Students, I have a special announcement for this feast,” She said, “Many of you may be curious about the ship and carriage that have come to us in this last week. They hold delegations of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons respectively. They have come to participate in a tradition started over seven hundred years ago amongst us three largest wizarding schools in Europe. Each school would put forward a single champion to compete for glory and honor for their school. As well as the thousand galleon grand prize for the winner.”

“Now, many of you may know the disastrous attempts to restore the tournament in recent years,” She continued, “But the Ministry has made sure there are rigorous security measures to ensure that none of our champions shall be killed during the competition. But make no mistake, this tournament is extremely dangerous regardless of our precautions. So, this year there will be no submissions by any student below the age of seventeen. An age line will be placed by the ministry to ensure no one gets any ideas of doing otherwise.”

Harry nodded. That made sense if it was dangerous as she made it out to be. Harry had stood no chance against those seventh year students when he had been a first year, even despite his unusual strength.

“The champion will be chosen by a magical artifact to create a binding magical contract ensuring that only those chosen will compete,” McGonagall said, “This artifact…”

Two Aurors wheeled out a large goblet with a blue flame dancing above it.

“...will determine the ideal candidate for each school impartially and choose our three Triwizard champions. Over the next two weeks the goblet will be freely available for submissions. Simply write your full name and put a single drop of your blood on a piece of parchment and throw it into the goblet's flame. Then you may be chosen to be champion. Be warned, if you are chosen there is no turning back. All contestants must compete no matter what, enforced by the magical contract built into the goblet itself. Now, let us welcome our guests. Durmstrang!”

The doors opened and a group of thirty boys wrapped in heavy coats and furs entered, several holding long staves rather than wands. All were above the age of seventeen and candidates for champion. The apparent headmaster was a seedy looking man with an unkempt beard and suspicious eyes that darted around the room. After walking up to the front of the room, the headmaster, Karkaroff apparently, said a few words to the room boasting about how great the candidates from Durmstrang were.

Ron was excited that the Viktor Krum who was a seeker for Bulgaria was among the candidates. The boy seemed almost bored as Karkaroff sang his praises next to him. But after a few minutes, Karkaroff finished up and turned back to McGonagall. He shook her hand and made his way over to the Slytherin table to sit down along with his students.

Harry was vaguely disappointed. He knew that Salazar’s dark magic was likely better than anyone else's. But he was still interested in Durmstrang’s view of it considering their school openly practiced the dark arts to a higher level. It was unfortunate that they would likely be around the Slytherins that hated Harry’s guts all the time. It seems the Slytherins didn’t like how well he did in class or how he had defeated those death eaters over the summer and sent them running away from him.

Next was the Beauxbatons. They were all girls in blue stylish dresses, completely unlike the drab standard robes of Hogwarts. Their headmistress, Madame Olympe Maxime was a giant of a woman wrapped in a massive scarf and tailored coat. She was almost as big as Hagrid was. The Beauxbaton girls did a strange sort of dance as they walked in and made their way to the front. When they reached McGonagall they turned around and started singing a little song as a group.

Harry noticed that every male head in the room focused on a few of the girls in particular. Ron and Neville were practically drooling as they stared at one girl in the center who looked to be a leader of sorts among the others. Hermione looked vaguely annoyed as Neville leaned forward across the table to get a better look at them, bumping into her as he did so.

Harry waved slightly to get Hermione’s attention before leaning in.

“What’s wrong with them?” Harry asked her softly, “Are they casting a spell up there?”

Hermione shook her head, “They are rumored to be half-Veela,” she whispered back, “Their voices entrance men like that. Its inherent magic they have in their voices. I’m more surprised you are unaffected honestly.”

Harry shrugged, “There’s a lot different about me compared to other people.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, “I guess so. It might have been odder if their magic did work on you given… everything.”

The song stopped, and the giant headmistress gave her own speech on her excellent candidates for champion and saying how great her school was. Harry learned that the half-Veela leader girl's name was Fleur Delacore as her headmistress also seemed to praise her as the clear favorite for being chosen. Then Madame Olympe shook McGonagall's hand and the girls in blue spread out to the various Hogwarts tables somewhat evenly, only avoiding sitting with Slytherin and Durmstrang. The various Hogwarts guys around the great hall clamored for their attention and shoved each other out of the way to make room when one of the Beauxbatons expressed interest in sitting somewhere.

Harry noticed that Fleur was walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table. She had three or so of her apparent friends walking behind her, and they ignored the offered seats as they walked.

The food started appearing at the table and Harry started digging in. The turkey legs tonight were especially tasty, and he ate three of them down to the bone. He tried to eat slowly to savor the taste, but it was very difficult to do when he was hungry.

“A-hem, ez- cuse mi. You wiz zat turkey drumstick?”

Harry turned around and blinked as he saw the leader girl and her friends had stopped behind him. She was staring at him with interest as everyone around them stopped eating and looked at them.

“Yes?” Harry asked. Then he blinked. His sense of what language he should speak to her was flickering between two different options. Was it trying to get him to speak French? Interesting, it hadn’t done that before. Maybe it only worked because she was so unfamiliar with English?

“You diz not seem interezzted in our song,” she said sharply, “We worktzz hard on it, why did you discuss with your friendz in the middle of it?”

“Sorry if that was rude,” Harry said, “But I realized that I was immune to Veela’s charmed voices, and wanted to ask her why everyone was acting so strangely. I was worried you were casting a harmful spell on everyone.”

Fleur flushed slightly. “You dare? I am not partz veela!”

Harry cocked his head and frowned, “So you were casting a spell?” He said, “Clearly something magical happened. You are very pretty I am sure, but not enough to make my friends Ron and Neville drool onto their plates after first seeing you.”

Ron and Neville who had been staring glassy eyed at Fleur snapped out of it and looked mortified at Harry’s words.

“I… you are a very rude little boy. Good day!” Fleur said before storming off in a huff. Her friends followed after her, glaring at him as Harry stared after them a little confused. What had set her off? The onlooking students from around them turned away and started muttering. He turned back and stared at his friends. He decided to go back to the basics.

“What did I say to offend her?” he asked them plainly.

“Er, well,” Ron jumped in, “You weren’t supposed to say she was half-Veela. The Beauxbatons all deny it even if everyone knows that it is true. You know from Slytherin how nasty people can get with half bloods let alone those that are not fully human… They don’t want to be treated like that by the wizarding community.”

Harry turned to Neville and frowned slightly. “But professor Flitwick? Isn’t he half goblin? Hagrid is half giant, isn’t he?”

“Er, I mean. That’s true,” Neville said, “Even if Hagrid never confirmed that. I’m sure Flitwick has to deal with a lot of stuff even now. My parents said that people were really nasty to him when he first started, but after so many years of excellent teaching the blood purists told their kids to tone it down so they could learn properly from him.”

“Is her magic affecting you two even now?” Harry asked them and Neville and Ron both glanced at the Beauxbatons who were now sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table.

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“Errr, probably,” Ron said as he struggled to look away from her, “Man, that’s powerful stuff.”

“Yep, I… still working on me,” Neville said, his voice a little strained as he looked back into his food.

“Well be careful,” Harry said seriously, “Let me or Hermione know if you need us to snap you out of it. She brought you to this state with one song, imagine what she could do if she wanted you to do something for her.”

“Yeah, sure Harry,”

“Makes sense,”

The two boys agreed, only to stare longingly back down the table at Fleur alongside almost every other boy in Gryffindor at least. Hermione shared a look with Harry and sighed slightly. It seems Ron and Neville would not be listening to Harry’s warning.

Harry returned to his food. He would keep an eye on them, but as long as he made sure they didn’t go anywhere alone with her then things should be fine. Harry thought he saw the reason why Beauxbatons was an all girls school if Fleur's voice alone caused these kinds of effects from her singing for only a few minutes…

— — —

Harry’s worries regarding Durmstrang proved true, as he was unable to see any that weren’t accompanied by a Slytherin or two over the following two weeks. It wasn’t like he could ask them about dark magic out in the open either, as it was technically illegal to perform in Britain. So even if they were interested, Harry would have no way to actually admit that he had been learning on his own as well.

Ron and Neville slowly seemed to calm down and return to normal over the course of an hour once they left the presence of Fleur in the great hall. Whenever they saw her in the hallways or heard her voice they would return to their other state, but luckily came to their senses much quicker when their interactions were brief.

Harry found it odd that neither of them seemed to care that their minds were being so altered by her. When Harry questioned them they just shrugged it off and said it wasn’t a big deal. Well, as long as it wasn’t hurting them, Harry supposed they were right. But still.

He was glad it didn’t affect him at all. Especially as Fleur didn’t like him very much, scowling whenever she saw him in the hallways. Something that made all her trailing boys hate Harry too. Fleur's group of girls that she was friends with acted almost as bodyguards, scaring away the trailing boys with cold looks and crossed arms whenever one went to approach Fleur.

Mind Harry had finished the big mental construct and formed it into its final shape. He was already working on the next one. The first construct was a copy of Harry’s soul eater form. Despite its small size it made up for it in speed and explosive strength as Mind Harry ordered it to leap rapidly through the landscape of rapidly changing gravity.

It could travel from the core of the structure to the exterior in under a minute with its massive leaps and precise maneuvers through the fluctuating gravity. Mind Harry had set it to travel halfway to the core and patrol roughly in a circle around it, occasionally changing the route so its circle was oriented in a different direction than before.

— — —

Harry stared at the Goblet of Fire, sitting in some chairs that had been set up on both sides of the room. It had become a sport of sorts to come in here and watch some of the younger years who were below seventeen tried to get around the age line to submit their names as champion. Ron and Neville had both tried it, excitedly discussing the one thousand galleon prize for the winner. But after thirty minutes of trying to float their pieces of parchments in, and failing to convince an older student to try it for them, they gave up. Giving it to someone else wouldn’t have worked anyways. The few who had tried it had the slips rejected by the blue flame and got in serious trouble with the Headmistress for trying to cheat.

“Are you going to try Harry? Hermione?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head, “I won’t. This contest sounds like a massive drain on time, I’m not sure I would even want to be the champion.”

Ron seemed skeptical at Harry’s claim. They had already had this argument, Ron arguing for the value of being able to represent their school. But Harry had already been in the papers enough for a lifetime, he wasn’t sure how being in them again would help him. And Harry still had a lot of money in his family vaults. His parents had been very rich when they died, and Harry would inherit it all when he grew old enough to claim it.

But Ron didn’t seem to find Harry’s reasons valid and kept arguing on the merits of being triwizard champion. His arguments had convinced Neville at least. Hermione had simply said that she had a few books she wanted to read and being triwizard champions would take away from her time to do that.

Ron and Neville had been almost disgusted at her calm response, but Harry approved. When he had time he still reread some of his books mentally page by page. It helped him understand the contents better and truly learn it rather than only being able to recite it blindly.

Harry felt something prick his neck and slapped at the source as he looked around. He felt the spot and there was no wound and his hands came back dry. Someone else started trying to get past the age line and Harry shook his head. It must have been a bug bite or something. He turned back and continued watching the show.

— — —

Harry and his friends sat in the great hall alongside with the whole school and the two delegations from the other schools. It was time to announce the three champions for the schools. The goblet of fire was sitting at the front of the hall, with McGonagall standing next to it.

“Now, we choose the three triwizard champions for our three schools,” Headmistress McGonagall said, “Without further ado, let us begin! The Champion for Durmstrang!”

She flicked her wand and the flame on the goblet flashed red and a piece of parchment was spat out and fluttered over to McGonagall’s hand. She unfolded it to read it.

“Viktor Krum!” she said and the delegation started cheering and slapping the boy on the back. A boy that seemed satisfied but not overjoyed or even surprised at the choice.

“From Beauxbatons!” McGongall said as the flame flashed again. Another slip of paper floated over to her after being spat out by the goblet, “Fleur Delaceur!”

The room rumbled as seemingly the whole room cheered. She was popular even among Hogwarts students due to her magical voice influencing almost everybody she encountered.

“And last but not least, from Hogwarts!” The parchment spat out of the goblet and landed in McGonagall’s hands as everyone waited with bated breath. “Cedric Diggory!”

The Hufflepuff table erupted into cheers and excitement as one of their own was chosen. They were jumping up and down and slapping the fifth year boy on the back as they congratulated him. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw cheered even if a little less enthusiastically. They were just happy that it hadn’t been a Slytherin that was chosen. Something the Slytherins seemed to be aware of, as they had sullen looks even as they clapped politely as well.

“Champions, proceed with Barty Crouch Senior who will explain to you your duties and responsibilities…” McGonagall said before the goblet suddenly flashed red again and the room went silent as another piece of parchment was shot out of the top.

McGonagall caught the parchment her face shocked as she read the name on it.

“Harry Potter…” she whispered, but the room was so silent that everyone heard her.

She looked up and stared directly at Harry who was deeply frowning. What was happening? Wasn’t Cedric Diggory already chosen as Champion?

“There seems to be a mistake, the goblet has mistakenly named Harry Potter as a fourth champion,” McGonagall said loudly, “Champions and Harry Potter please follow Barty Crouch Senior.”

Harry stood as every eye in the hall turned to him. He walked over to where the other champions had gathered, Fleur giving him the evil eye as they all left together.

— — —

“Headmistress McGonagall, this is an outrage!” Karkaroff thundered as the three leaders of the schools burst into the room where the four of the students and Barty Crouch Senior had been waiting silently for the last five minutes.

“You think zat we will stand for your school being given more zan one champion?” Madame Maxine joined in, “I thought you above zeez things, Headmistress. Zis is the kind of thing I would expect Dumbledorez to do.”

“I assure you both, I had nothing to do with this!” McGonagall shot back at both of them with some heat before turning to Harry.

“Mr. Potter, did you put your name in the goblet of fire?” she asked him calmly.

He shook his head, “No, Headmistress, I’d rather not be a champion. Is there any way I can get out of the magical contract?”

Everyone seemed to relax slightly as it became apparent that Harry was more than willing to not be a champion.

“The boy must be lying! He’s simply hunting for more fame to add to the pile,” Karkaroff shouted, pointing a bony finger at Harry accusingly. Madame Maxine seemed more receptive and was staring at Harry thoughtfully.

McGonagall ignored the man and shook her head sadly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Potter. The magical contract bound to the goblet of fire is ancient, and ancient wizards were particularly cruel when designing their contracts. If you do not attempt the same tasks as the others with an honest effort then various horrible things I will not describe will happen to you. Suffice it to say that without spending potentially three thousand galleons or more on a specialist contract breaker you will be trapped.”

“Can we do that?” Harry asked, “I mean isn’t it the ministry’s fault for letting this happen to me? They should do what they can to fix their mistake. I have some money, but I don’t think the goblins at Gringotts will let me take nearly that amount of money out of my family vaults.”

The three other champions and the other two headmasters raised their eyebrows and seemed surprised at Harry’s calm tone as well as dedication to not being a champion. All eyes turned to Barty Crouch Senior who stood there nervously wringing his hands.

“Well? Mr. Crouch?” McGonagall said, “How about it? I was assured by the Ministry that the age line and the other protections would prevent any incidents. Let alone something like this.”

“Y-Yes, indeed, Headmistress,” the man said nervously, “If y-you allow me to your office then I will go to the ministry and report this incident. I will make the case for it, but that amount of galleons… I’m sorry to say that it is unlikely to happen.”

He turned to the four students, “Ah, before I- I forget. For the first task, each of you will face a different species of dragon drawn randomly from a bag. It will be sitting on a golden egg underneath it, and you have to steal it away from it. You can only bring yourself and a wand, so best prepare for it. Headmistress?”

Mr. Crouch turned to McGonagall with an almost pleading tone at the end.

“Very well, we will all go to the Ministry in a few minutes,” McGonagall said, “You four, go back to your rooms. We will let you know when we adults sort all of this out.”

Flashing forward several days, they did not figure it out. The ministry was unwilling to pay for the cost. The whole thing and security failure was firmly pinned on Barty Crouch Senior, who was fired and replaced two days ago for ‘Gross Negligence’.

Harry heard some people say that he might even face charges for allowing Harry to be ensnared by a magical contract. But the Ministry still didn’t want to pay the money to get someone to free Harry from the obligations of being a champion even after Barty Crouch Senior's firing.

Even when Harry asked Salazar for help, the painting couldn't do anything. Without knowing the specifics of the wording and some very advanced specialized magics in breaking magical contracts there wasn't much he could recommend. Avoiding the outlined punishments was nearly impossible. Especially given that this contract had required some of Harry’s blood to be signed so was even more effective than a normal contract.

So after a full week, it was made official. There would be four triwizard champions for the tournament. Ron and Neville didn’t believe that Harry hadn’t put his name in the goblet in fire. Ron especially was rather upset that Harry wasn’t telling him how he had bypassed the age line. Harry’s competence in magic was coming back to bite him now as everyone, especially his friends, easily believed that he could have been able to put his name in easily through all the protections without anyone knowing about it.

Hermione did take a little convincing to believe Harry’s story, but after bringing her down to the chamber he reminded her how many of his other more important secrets he had told her. So why would he lie to her about this?

She came around after that, and it was nice to know that at least one person didn’t believe he was lying about not wanting to be a champion. It wasn’t like anyone else in Hogwarts believed him. Or the world, after the firing of Mr. Crouch and the reason behind it came out in the papers. Harry just hoped this wasn’t something that James Kensit would think was interesting.

He had enough to deal with without having to worry about what that man might do to his friends or someone else nearby that he took an interest in. The man with such overwhelming power floating around the edges of events, watching Harry, might not be so agreeable as before after Harry brushed him off so rudely last time he had wanted to talk to him.