FicWad

The week and a half leading up to the arrival of the foreign guests was an exercise in patience on the parts of both teachers and students. The professors, normally experts in dealing with classes of excitable teenagers, found their limits sorely tested. Harry could swear he saw McGonagall look heavenward and count to ten before addressing Neville, who had botched a switching spell and affixed his ears to a cactus.

Harry was amused at the way various teachers took out their tension on their students. Hooch ran her first years ragged before sending them off to their next class. McGonagall's dry wit grew even dryer, though few of the students on the receiving end recognized it for what it was. Flitwick crammed more spells into their lessons. Sinistra was overwhelmingly alert. Snape was Snape, and if possible, more so.

What kept Harry sane after the hectic days of classes were the nights of long talks on his mobile. He'd be lying in bed, almost drifting off to sleep, when the heartbeat of his phone would shoot up. The odd conversations he and Draco had were enough to keep him going through the next stressful day...

"Harry! I just had a thought! What if everyone's skin was the color of their favorite spell?"

"I'd look a right prat, all covered in silver from the Patronus Charm."

and

"I wonder if there are any other animal languages besides Parseltongue."

"Like what?"

"Like.../camels/. How else would Bedouin wizards manage those things?"

and

"What if, in our afternoon lessons tomorrow, everyone was suddenly naked?"

"Ugh! Draco! That's Snape's class!"

"...True. Sorry."

Harry had never had as much fun during school as he did late at night, laughing at the bizarre thoughts that crossed his friend's mind.

**

On 30 October, the Hogwarts students stood outside on the lawn by the lake awaiting their guests. A few, who had forgotten the cold Highland evenings, were shivering violently in the chill air.

Harry smiled and dug his hands deeper into his cozy winter coat. With a wink at Ginny and a forefinger pressed to his lips, he slipped away from his housemates and over to the Slytherins while Hermione was casting warming charms on the first years and McGonagall was berating the twins.

"Nippy out," Ted said cheerfully.

"Is it?" Harry asked. "I feel quite nice." He grinned. "Can't feel my nose, though."

"It's gone a bit red," Draco observed.

"I wonder if it's frozen," Harry said. He bent over and stuck his nose in Draco's ear.

Draco yelped. "Shite! Potter, that's /cold/!"

"Frozen it is," Harry confirmed.

Millie laughed at his antics. "Harry, have you gone mad, or are you attacking Draco for a reason?"

Draco blushed.

"Oh, it's justified," Harry said, smirking. "Last night, he brought up the horrible thought of our entire Potions class suddenly being naked. Then he reminded me in class today."

His friends all grimaced.

"What can I say?" Draco said innocently. "It's all stream-of-consciousness in the dead of night."

Harry snickered. "Too true."

They were jerked out of their conversation by a scream from one of the Gryffindor first year girls. "It's a dragon!" she shrieked hysterically.

The group of fourth years looked up into the sky-a huge, dark shape was approaching rapidly.

"Not a dragon," Harry murmured. "No wings." His friends nodded, and Harry's words were confirmed as the shape materialized into an enormous blue carriage pulled by gigantic winged horses.

They all immediately understood just why the carriage was so huge when it landed and the door opened. A well-dressed woman no shorter than ten feet tall stepped gracefully from the doorway down to the lawn. Her dark eyes, stern in her handsome face, scanned the crowd. She broke into a small smile when she spotted Dumbledore.

"Madame Maxime," Dumbledore proclaimed, kissing her large, ringed hand. "It is a delight to see you again."

"Dumbly-dorr," she replied in a rich accent. "It 'as been too long." She waved a hand at the students in the doorway of the carriage, elegantly clad in light blue robes. "My students," she added offhandedly.

"We're just waiting for Igor and his group," Dumbledore said. "And then, to dinner, I should think."

Madame Maxime nodded regally and beckoned to her students, who lined up in two neat rows in front of her, shivering in their flimsy robes.

They all stood in silence, many students searching the skies. Draco snorted.

"Do they honestly think that Durmstrang will pull the same stunt?"

Harry shook his head, amused. Almost as if to prove Draco's point, a low, loud rumbling came from the direction of the lake.

"Yes!" Ted cheered under his breath as a mast emerged from the depths of Hogwarts' lake. He, Harry, and Draco had bet against a fair number of people that Durmstrang would take the Flying Dutchman to Hogwarts. Around the three of them, several Slytherin students groaned softly.

As soon as the ship came to ground against the sloping lawn, a man in a large fur coat strode down the gangplank, smiling widely. "Headmaster Dumbledore! Madame Maxime! It's good to see you again." He had a pleasant, jolly voice, but Harry was close enough to see that his smile never reached his eyes.

About a dozen heavily bundled-up young men and women followed him across the lawn. "My best and brightest," Durmstrang's Headmaster said proudly.

"Headmaster Karkaroff," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "It is a pleasure to have you here. Please, let's adjourn to the Great Hall for dinner."

The two heads of the foreign schools nodded graciously, and all three led their students into Hogwarts.

**

Back inside the Hall, the Durmstrang students watched curiously from their seats with the fourth year Slytherins as galleons and sickles were passed over to a very smug Ted, Draco, and Harry.

"Vat voss your bet on?" one of them asked gruffly.

The three traded looks.

"Well," started Draco.

"We know some interesting people," Ted said.

"Unsavory people, more like," interjected Draco.

"So we bet you'd arrive by ship," finished Harry. The three snickered.

"Ah," the boy said, looking confused.

"Vat are your names?" asked another. They looked up, and Draco's eyes widened.

"Er," he stuttered.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said affably. "These are my friends Draco Malfoy and Ted-Theodore-Nott."

"It is good to meet you," he said gruffly. "I am Viktor Krum." He looked at Harry speculatively. "I haff heard of you."

"Likewise," Harry said with a grin. They shook hands across the table firmly.

"Your crest on your robes," Krum said, "It is not the same as your friends'. Yet you sit here?"

Draco spoke up quickly. "We invite Harry to sit with us often during dinners. I eat breakfast at his House table every morning."

"And there is no-how is it-difficulty vith House rivals?" the first boy asked, intrigued.

Harry shrugged. "People here are used to me doing things out of the ordinary."

"I think they're just relieved they don't have to duck hexes every time you and Draco see each other anymore," Ted said wryly.

Draco and Harry laughed. "No doubt," Draco agreed.

"Say," Harry said to Krum. "Why's your ship named after a muggle ghost story?"

Krum chuckled. "A former Headmaster a few centuries ago thought it vould be funny to haff a ship named after a muggle legend. It is still scaring the muggleborn children ven they first see it."

"He sounds like he had a great sense of humor," Blaise said, speaking up for the first time.

"I do not doubt this," Krum said with a nod.

"Hey Malfoy!" Bletchley called from up the table. "Heard you were putting together some pick-up Quidditch."

"Harry's in charge of it," Draco denied. "Why? You interested?"

"Need a Keeper, Potter?" Bletchley asked.

"Need a lot more than one Keeper," Harry replied. "If you want to play, go for it."

The tall seventh year nodded and turned back to his friends.

"I vould be interested in joining you in your games," Krum said gruffly. "Should you haff room."

Harry grinned at him. "We've had this planned since the first day of school," he informed Krum. "We haven't taken any names, though, just in case people from your school or Beauxbatons wanted to play."

"That is good of you," Krum muttered.

The rest of supper was spent with friendly conversation and questions from both the Durmstrang and Hogwarts students.

**

Dumbledore stood as the dishes cleared themselves. "Your attention, please, students," he said, his calm voice reaching all corners of the Great Hall. Everyone stilled and looked toward him eagerly. "It is now time to bring in the judge of the potential Triwizard champions."

Filch staggered in from the side of the hall, carrying a large cask in his arms. At a nod from Dumbledore, he opened the strong locks on the chest to reveal a rough-hewn wooden goblet.

"The Goblet of Fire will be lit tonight, and will stay lit for twenty for hours," he said in ringing tones. "Any student who wishes to enter must place their name and school into the Goblet's flames." Dumbledore paused and looked out into the crowd, eyes twinkling. "To prevent anyone not yet of age from entering, I myself will be drawing an age line around the Goblet."

He smiled and clapped his hands briskly. "Off to bed! There is much to do tomorrow."

Harry and Krum exchanged friendly nods as they parted amidst the noisily chattering students, many of whom were wondering how to trick the age line.

**

D. Malfoy
calling
H. Potter

Harry stifled a yawn and blinked up at the canopy in the darkened dormitory. "'Lo?" he muttered.

"Ten galleons on Krum being the Durmstrang champion," Draco immediately said.

"I'm not taking that bet," Harry shot back with a sleepy laugh. "That's too much of a given."

"Damn, and I was so sure I could get you to agree," Draco said, snickering. "You get a bit stupid when you're half asleep."

"True," Harry said thoughtfully. "But I'm half awake, as well."

"Curses, foiled again," Draco said dramatically.

"Go to sleep, you idiot," Harry said, yawning widely. "I want to be awake tomorrow when we find out the champions."

"Good night, Potter," Draco said. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Mmhmm...night." Harry hung up his mobile and fell back asleep quickly, a smile playing across his face.

**

The flames of the Goblet shot up into the air, a deep, blood red. Dumbledore caught the charred scrap of paper that flew out of its depths.

"The Champion for Durmstrang...is Viktor Krum!"

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry cheered. Krum was a decent fellow, if a bit taciturn. The new champion stood and strode down the aisle into a room behind the Head Table.

The Goblet's flames turned red again, and Dumbledore announced, "The Champion for Beauxbatons...is Fleur Delacour!"

A tall, thin girl with long blond hair rose from the Ravenclaw table and followed Krum.

The flames shot a third piece of parchment into the air.

"The Champion for Hogwarts is...Cedric Diggory!"

Hufflepuff exploded into cheers. Harry caught Cedric's eye as the Head Boy stood, and gave him a grin. He looked past the other tables to make eye contact with Draco, who was massaging his temples at the thought of losing such a high-stakes bet.

As the Goblet's flames subsided into their low, light blue, Dumbledore said to the assembled students, "The selected Champions will now be meeting with the Triwizard judges to discuss the First Task. It will"-

The flames turned a deep red for a fourth time, and a scrap of parchment flew up. Dumbledore caught it reflexively. The entire Hall went silent.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Harry Potter."

Harry sat, frozen. This just couldn't be possible. Cedric was the Champion. His ears buzzed.

"Come on, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "Go join the other Champions."

"I didn't enter," Harry said to Ron as he stood up slowly. "I didn't."

Ron just shook his head in disbelief.

He walked to the back room in a daze, keenly aware of the stares of his fellow students on his back.

"Oui?" the French girl, Delacour, said when he entered the small room. "Do zey need us back in ze 'all?"

Harry shook his head numbly.

"Harry?" Cedric asked. "What's happened?"

At that, Harry looked up and barked a short, humorless laugh. "God, Cedric," he said miserably. "I had a Harry Potter moment again."

**

Harry collapsed against the door to the boys' dormitory with a sigh of relief. He'd had to fight through a screaming, cheering horde of Gryffindor well-wishers, each one intent on congratulating him personally.

"It's an absolute madhouse out there," he said nervously to Ron. His best friend was lying on his bed fully clothed, scowling.

"How'd you do it?" Ron asked abruptly.

"I didn't," Harry said, annoyed. "I didn't want to enter. I told you that."

Ron scoffed. "Right. Like you're not always getting the glory."

"Sod off, Ron," he answered angrily. "You ought to know me better than that."

"Guess I don't, do I." Ron violently yanked the curtains around his bed shut.

**

/He was in the room again, the old, dusty parlor. And he was /pissed.

"How in the sodding hell did you manage to get me into that Tournament?" he demanded, glaring at the Dark Lord from his seat on the ottoman.

"I have my ways," was the cold response.

"Was this just for fun?" Harry asked. "Or were you planning on seeing how close to death I can come in each task?"

"Tsk." The Dark Lord tutted. "My servant will see that you survive your tasks. After all, I need you alive for my resurrection."

Harry snorted. "You're a right bastard."

Voldemort scowled back. "You are an insufferable brat I can't get rid of."

Harry relaxed minutely. The judges said he couldn't get out of it. At least he knew why he was in the Tournament, now.

"How's the soul-repairing going, by the way?" he asked curiously.

"I've sent Wormtail off to retrieve them," Voldemort said dourly, "with explicit instructions on how not to get killed by the safeguards."

Harry bit his lip. "I have a little bit of a confession."

"What did you do, Potter?" the Dark Lord growled.

"I, um..." Harry winced. "I destroyed your diary."

He sat, eyes screwed shut, in the stunned silence, and opened them suddenly as the Dark Lord began to laugh, a high-pitched, cold cackle.

"You don't leave a job half-done, do you, Potter?" Voldemort asked, coldly amused.

"I wouldn't have," Harry said. "But you were possessing someone. And you let the basilisk out again."

"Enter the noble Gryffindor," Voldemort said sardonically.

Harry smirked. "I do try."

"Get out, Potter," Voldemort said. "Before I find out if the Killing Curse works in dreams."

"But I don't know who your servant is," Harry protested. "Who's going to help me?"

"And you owe me half a soul," Voldemort retorted with a glare. "Figure it out yourself."

**

H. Potter
calling
D. Malfoy

"Hey, Potter."

"Draco? You know I didn't put my name in, don't you?"

"Of course I know, Potter. Why? Is Weasley being a git?"

"...Yeah, he is."

"Just because he's an idiot, doesn't mean the rest of your friends are, Harry."

"Thanks. I needed that."

"Any time, Potter. I'll see you at breakfast."

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night."