I do apologize for not updating. I have midterms coming up plus I'm lacking the motivation to write this story (yet I'm all right with another one... somehow...)

Sirius and Remus were eating breakfast when Hedwig came flying in. "Harry's written to us!" Sirius bounced in his seat.

Remus took the letter and read it out loud.

Dear Moony and Padfoot,

I'm pretty sure you knew the Triwizard Tournament happening this year. You're not very subtle (especially you, Sirius!). Anyway, my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. What a surprise, I can't ever get a normal year, can I? And of course I can't withdraw without losing my magic because that would be too easy. Do you think this is what Voldemort has planned? It would explain what he said in my dream.

Love, Harry

PS- the real Hogwart champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff

"Fuck!" Sirius shouted. "Dammit, why is it always Harry?"

"Padfoot, calm down."

"Calm down?" Sirius repeated, almost hysterical. "Our son is being forced to participate in that tournament, and you expect me to calm down?!"

"I know, but there's nothing we can do."

"Oh, but there is." Sirius laughed bitterly. "Be right back." He hurried off.

Remus sighed loudly. "Please don't be a Howler," he groaned.

Harry thought that perhaps today would be normal enough. It wasn't; although Cedric told the Hufflepuffs of the wizard's oath, the Hufflepuffs were still acting strange around him. The Slytherins, as usual, were either neutral or sneering at him. And then there was Draco Malfoy.

"Who do you think did it?" he demanded during Care of Magical Creatures.

"I don't know. I can barely comprehend that I was chosen."

"Got your autograph books?" Pansy Parkinson sneered. "Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer... Half the Triwizard champions have died... how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter?"

Hagrid distracted them with instructing the class to take the Blast-Ended Skrewts on a walk.

"So," he said to Harry, "yer competin', Harry. In the tournament. School champion."

"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"

"None."

He glanced over at the other students.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said.

Yeah, that sure looks like fun, Harry thought as he watched Lisa Turpin being dragged along on her stomach.

Double Potions was after lunch, and that was its own form of torture. Pansy Parkinson had made badges with the words SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY-

THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION! on them.

"Like them, Potter?" said Parkinson loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do- look!"

She pressed the badge , and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

POTTER STINKS!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry.

Far from being affected, Harry just blinked. "How long have you been working on that?"

"All night."

Harry slowly clapped. "Wow, brilliant. 'Potter stinks.' Phenomenal," he drawled. "Ten points to Slytherin."

"Why, you-" Parkinson drew her wand and shouted a spell.

The spell missed as Harry ducked, but it hit Michael in the face.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Professor Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to explain, but Snape silenced them. "Explain," he said to Draco.

"Pansy attacked Harry, sir, and hit Corner."

Michael's face was covered in boils.

"Hospital wing, Corner," Snape said calmly.

"But, sir-" Parkinson began.

"Detention, Parkinson," Snape said coldly.

Parkinson gaped, then turned away fuming. It wasn't often that Snape took points from his own house; in fact, it wasn't until Harry arrived that he started treating the other houses more equally. Gryffindor, though, he was still fairly biased against.

About an hour into class, Colin Creevey appeared for Harry.

"And here I was hoping for a normal day!" Harry groaned as he followed Colin.

He arrived in a small classroom. Viktor Krum was standing off to one side, but Cedric and Fleur were talking.

"Ah, here he is!" Bagman announced. "Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come... nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward a witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet... "

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.

Harry slowly inched away from her. No way, he was not doing anything with this woman.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" Rita said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is- if Harry has no objection?"

"Yes, I do have an objection."

"But, Harry-"

"No. Can we just get the wand weighing over with?"

Mr. Ollivander looked at Fleur's wand first. "Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me..."

"A hair from the head of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmother's. "

So Fleur was part Veela, Harry noted. He figured as much from other boys' reactions, but he wasn't absolutely positive.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."

Next was Cedric. Mr. Ollivander was much more enthusiastic since he had made this wand. "You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

Harry inwardly groaned at the innuendo.

Viktor stepped up and handed over his wand.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I... however..."

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees... quite rigid... ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"

Small birds burst from the end of the wand.

Mr. Ollivander spent the most time with Harry's wand, much to the latter's chagrin. The photoshoot afterward just furthered his irritation.

After the champions were released, Dumbledore went up to his office. He saw a red letter and paled. But he had no time to move before it went off.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, HOW DARE YOU ALLOW MY SON TO COMPETE IN THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT. CLEARLY YOUR AGE IS CATCHING UP TO YOU IF A FUCKING AGE LINE ISN'T ENOUGH TO KEEP HARRY SAFE. Oh, and one more thing- PPFFFFFTTTTTT!

The Howler dissolved itself.

Dumbledore sighed ruefully. If he had the power to remove Harry from the tournament, he would have, but there was only so much he could do.

Originally, I was going to have Sirius come by in person, but then this happened

I've read stories (mostly Dumbledore bashing ones) that indicate that he DOES have the power to stop Harry from competing. This is not one of them