Chapter 1

"Clean your hands you filthy rat," the small figure said.

Lord Voldemort was currently being bathed by an incompetent rat by the name of Peter Pettigrew. On the way back to Britain the weak man attempted to Apparate on his orders. Unfortunately he had forgotten that the many years that Wormtail had spent as a rat had rather diminished part of the man's magic.

It had resulted in him and Wormtail temporarily getting lost on an island in the middle of the ocean. After all the travelling, after all the times Wormtail had managed to drop him in mucus and horse droppings, he was now being bathed in a somewhat near working bath at the home of his father's house in Little Hangleton.

Once he was washed he recounted everything that had happened to him and all his future plans.

"We will get my loyal Death Eater into Hogwarts," the Evil Baby Thingy said. "He shall put Harry Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire, thereby placing him into the tournament. He will have to compete or lose his magic. My plan is foolproof."

And through the night he talked to either himself or to Wormtail, who was cowering in the corner from the gaze of his dear snake, Nagini. Moronically, he spoke about where he was to himself and that he was intending to kill the Muggle gardener when he had the chance. He thought it would be hilarious irony if he killed him, as he had framed him for the murder of his paternal family all those years ago.

If he had known that he was sharing his thoughts with an unknown Horcrux, Harry Potter, he would not have dared think about his plans.

Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.

Harry Potter had heard everything the Dark Lord was discussing with Peter Pettigrew in his head. How he managed to have a connection like this to Voldemort, he did not know. However, for once he was glad he was connected to Voldemort. He now had to find out a way to thwart his plans. He knew what he would do to start destabilising the plans.

In the darkness of his room he called out to a dear friend of his whom he knew would be delighted to help. A friend whom was very much loyal to him alone.

Two months later...

31 October

Harry Potter smirked as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore spoke to the crowd of assembled students.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Instead of listening to the elderly wizard, Harry laughed in his thoughts on what would now happen to Voldemort and Barty Crouch.

In the past two months since he had the dream, he had worked on delaying the Dark Lord's return to power. Back on the night he had the vivid dream of Voldemort speaking of his plans to no one in particular he had been on full alert. That night he had called his faithful friend Dobby the House-Elf.

Dobby had been instrumental in guaranteeing his life and guiding him around since then. The elf had transported him to Little Hangleton where he had the elf's help in disposing of the remains of Voldemort's father and filling the grave with transfigured skunk bones, courtesy of Dobby who found the remains. That was the backup plan in case the Goblet of Fire didn't work. As he heard that Voldemort was intending to kill a gardener, he found a local man named Frank Bryce. He had managed to placate the man when he came across the angered man. He convinced the elderly man that he didn't believe him to be a murderer and to go on a well deserved trip. Frank was currently in Brighton, well away from Voldemort.

The original plan, which was still going, was to confuse the Goblet of Fire. Dobby once again had been a major help in that field. The crazy house-elf had gone back to Malfoy Manor to snoop and retrieve a book for Harry on Magical Contracts.

Harry had found a spell in the book that would be of immense help. He had written down his name on parchment and cast a spell on it. He had then tossed the parchment into the Goblet of Fire. It wasn't entering his name into the tournament. His name had to be supplied into the Goblet of Fire for it to work. Once that was done anyone who was attempting to get him into the tournament under their own intent in placing his name would be named instead when the Goblet would identify his name entered into the tournament.

"The Hogwarts champion," Dumbledore called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff table went into an uproar of cheers. Harry smiled at this. They deserved recognition after all the teasing Hogwarts did to them.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it were four pieces of parchment.


Dumbledore eyed the parchments coming out of the Goblet of Fire.

What was going on with the Goblet? It was only supposed to emit four names. He didn't care about the other three. He needed Harry Potter in the tournament.

He knew quite well that Barty Crouch Junior was in the school. The wards of his office always informed him who was behind his door when someone visited. He had stunned the imposter when he had first came up and fed him Veritaserum.

He needed Voldemort to return before Harry would reach adulthood. The boy was only easy to manipulate as long as he resided in Number Four Privet Drive. Once the boy was of age he would undoubtedly move out and seek independence for himself.

He tried to grab hold of the four parchments but Ludo Bagman beat him to it.

"What's the meaning of this Dumbledore," he exclaimed. The joyful man read the first name he could find.

"Tom Riddle," he called out, looking out at the students.

There were only three reactions to the name. Dumbledore had gone into shock at hearing the name announced. The old man was wondering what was going on. Ginny Weasley at the Gryffindor table looked frightened out of her wits and Hermione Granger was looking at Harry Potter inquisitively.

Dumbledore looked towards Harry Potter and noticed a small grin on the boy's face. It made him feel quite uneasy.

"Barty Crouch Junior," Ludo called out, now feeling squeamish. He was getting scared. How could a dead man be in the tournament?

Up at the entrance of the chamber the imposter was feeling terrified. This wasn't supposed to happen. The moment a name was called there was no way out. There was no way the Dark Lord could come to Hogwarts. But he couldn't lose his magic either.

"Peter Pettigrew." Bagman was now feeling faint. Two supposed dead men were named in the tournament. Ludo Bagman knew these men must be alive. He knew the rules of the tournament. Only alive people could be entered. Dead people could not.

Dumbledore was furious. This would be a whole lot of damage control to take care of. He still needed Harry in the tournament.

But who was the fourth named?

Bagman looked up from the fourth parchment and glared at Dumbledore, muttering under his breath before speaking up.

"Albus Dumbledore."

Then he lost it. Albus Dumbledore looked on, shocked. Did his name come out of the Goblet of Fire? He looked out among the students to see angry glares coming from Slytherin. He turned his head around to see other reactions. The Hufflepuff table was glaring at him for stealing their thunder. The Ravenclaw table looked at him as if he should be discussed.

Some Gryffindor students were cheering for him. Mainly the obnoxious ones. His eyes flickered to Harry Potter. The boy was glaring at him in an inquisitive manner. Harry Potter caught his gaze. The boy merely him a brief but hard wink while glaring at him. And that's when he realised it.

Harry Potter tricked the Goblet of Fire.