Chapter Forty-One

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Note: I've finally reached my goal of having an average of 100 reviews per chapter! :) Also, I finally found my claim to fame: making Lockhart resemble something likeable!

"IT'S FINALLY HERE!" George yelled a week and a half later at breakfast.

"SAVE ME, HARRY!" Fred begged.

Harry winced as they were only sitting three seats down from him and looked up to find that the post had arrived. To be more specific, it appeared that Molly had finally gotten around to creating the perfect Howler. Harry knew from years of her acquaintance that the longer it took after an incident she didn't approve of to receive a Howler about it, the worse it would be. Idly, he leaned over and muttered, "Muffliato" as he tapped the smoking red letter.

"You're a lifesaver, mate," Fred told him seriously.

"I know," Harry agreed.

"Hey, it looks like you made the front page again. It's about the Playoffs this time," George said, eyeing the Daily Prophet that had just been dropped in front of Harry.

Harry Potter and the Pentawizard Playoffs

By Rita Skeeter

"That sounds like the name of a book or something," Harry complained. "Although that is an idea…"

"Doesn't the Daily Prophet have any other reporters?" Fred wondered.

"Maybe they're on hand to check her facts," George suggested. "She spelled Krum's name wrong in her notes and didn't even bother getting Cedric's, so if that's in there then we'll know SOMEONE edited it."

Harry Potter is a fourteen year-old-wizard attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is probably the first introduction he's been given since that dreadful night thirteen years ago that both orphaned him and freed us all.

Potter has been known by many appellations since then. The Boy Who Lived. Gryffindor's Golden Boy. The Boy Who Silenced. Hero. Pentawizard Playoff Champion.

As everyone is no doubt aware by now, the Triwizard Tournament was initially scheduled to take place at Hogwarts this year and Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Cedric Diggory were accordingly chosen to represent Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts respectively. Then something unexpected happened. Fred Weasley was chosen to represent the newly founded Harry Potter School of Awesomeness and Harry Potter himself was chosen to represent an American school.

Harry's new Headmistress was not available for comment, but the Headmaster of the Harry Potter School of Awesomeness – our very own Gilderoy Lockhart – had this to say," Fred is an outstandingly creative, albeit unconventional, student and he has my full confidence."

Weasley is not alone in his promise. Krum is an international Quidditch sensation from Bulgaria, Delacour is the daughter of a prominent French official and widely rumored to be part Veela, and Diggory is the top of his class and the son of an important ministry official.

How does Potter stack up against this? Very well, actually. His test scores have declared him a prodigy, but he hasn't let it go to his head. A close friend of Potter's, Draco Malfoy, had this to say, "Harry's a good guy who doesn't take life too seriously. Of course, I can't vouch for his sanity, but we all have our faults."

When questioned about his entry into the Playoffs, Potter insisted that although he did enter to challenge his abilities, he only entered under the school bearing his name and his nomination as an American candidate surprised him as much as anybody else. Is this a conspiracy? Are the Americans trying to steal some of Potter's glory for themselves? This reporter intends to find out.

Potter is most often found in the company of his three closest friends, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Muggleborn Hermione Granger. Granger, along with the youngest Weasley, Ginevra, and the daughter of the Quibbler editor, Luna Lovegood, are the three stunningly pretty teenage girls competing for Potter's affection. Which one will be his source of strength throughout the Playoffs and, ultimately, win his heart? Only time will tell.

"Well that's just…" Harry trailed off, searching for the right words. "At least there's no mention of me crying this time."

"You cried during your interview?" George asked skeptically.

"Oh God no," Harry assured him. "I guess threatening to sue her for libel paid off then."

"Hey, Harry, do you have any idea what the first task is going to be?" Fred asked. "I know they said they want to see how well we adapt to high-pressure situations and all, but if your scar has any idea then that would be great. The best pranks involve a good deal of preparation, you know."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Oh, right. Follow me." With that, Harry made his way to the Hufflepuff table. "Hey Cedric."

"Nice article," Cedric greeted him. "I notice it was very interested in your love life and the other contestants and I seemed kind of like an afterthought. Well, except Fred, but then he was from the HARRY POTTER school, so…"

Harry shrugged. "You should be glad you made the article at all. I think they actually hired fact checkers after that one time I sued them for libel."

"Because of those articles about your secret life as a drag queen?" Cedric asked. "I remember those."

Harry grimaced. "So do I, unfortunately. I think that's why they avoiding mentioning the fact that my 'school' is girls-only. Anyway, my scar knows what the first task is so if you want to know, I'd suggest you follow me."

Cedric immediately stood and followed him out of the Great Hall and into a deserted classroom.

"What's he doing here?" Fred complained.

"Yeah, where's your Gryffindor Pride, Harry?" George added.

"Sorry guys," Harry said apologetically. "But my scar has no Gryffindor Pride and it won't tell me what the task is unless I tell you both, so…"

"So what is it?" Cedric inquired.

"Dragons," Harry said simply.

"I must be going deaf," George announced.

"Me too," Fred said. "Because I could have sworn that I just heard you say 'dragons.'"

"There is no way in hell Dumbledore would expect us to fight a dragon," Cedric said flatly. "I refuse to believe it."

"No, we're not fighting them," Harry agreed. "Although that might actually be easier, all things considering."

His fellow champions and George all paled considerable, wondering what could possibly involve a dragon but be worse than fighting it.

"We're supposed to steal a golden 'egg' from nesting mothers."

"You know, now that I think on it, fighting a dragon wouldn't be all that bad, really," Fred said, sounding strangely high-pitched.

"Don't worry, we'll think of something," George assured him.

"You're positive?" Cedric asked seriously.

Harry nodded grimly.

Cedric closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Shit."

Harry shrugged apologetically and hurried off to Potions.

On the way he ran into Luna. "I got a reply from the Headmistress," she told him.

"Really?" Harry was curious. "What did it say?"

Luna just smiled at him and continued on her way.

When he got there, he found the Slytherins 'discussing' the article and was immediately grateful at how much…milder this version was than the previous one. Even if he didn't really remember what the first article Skeeter had penned about him had said, he knew it had been painful. And that had been when she'd been on his side!

"Stunningly pretty? GRANGER?" Pansy was shrieking. "What was she judged against – a chipmunk?"

"I wouldn't talk if I were you, Pansy," Harry said as he came to stand behind his rather vexed Muggleborn friend. "Seeing as I heard you came in third."

Seeing as how Harry already knew what the task was and what he would be doing against it, he opted for sleep rather than meeting Hagrid and seeing the proof of it once more. He was kind of curious what fifth kind of dragon they would be flying in, but not enough to get out of bed for it. After all, he was a growing boy. Kind of.

The day of the First Task, McGonagall personally escorted him there. "Now don't panic," she told him. "Just keep a cool head…we've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand…the main thing to do is just do your best and nobody will think any worse of you. Are you alright?"

Harry snorted. "Why Professor, anybody would think that trying to steal an egg from a nesting mother dragon was dangerous and kind of irresponsible to ask of a fourteen-year-old."

"You know?" McGonagall looked surprised. Harry merely tapped his forehead and she sighed. "Of course."

"Don't sweat it; I'll be fine," Harry promised. "Besides, if I don't kick some major ass on this, Draco and the Hufflepuffs will never let me live it down."

"If you're sure," McGonagall said dubiously.

"I am," Harry said firmly. "Thank you for the concern, though."

McGonagall nodded jerkily and left him at the entrance to the tent.

"So…am I the only one who thinks that just by showing up we should probably be put on suicide watch?" Harry said brightly as he entered the tent, breaking the gloomy atmosphere.

"You should have been on it the minute you went after that troll third year," Cedric said frankly. Huh? Third year? That had been his first…right, Cedric was two years older.

"How can you be zo calm?" Fleur demanded. "We could very well die!"

"In the first task?" Harry asked incredulously. "No way; if I die I'm going to do it at the third where all the press is."

"Professor Lockhart recommended much the same thing," Viktor said. "I vasn't sure vhether he vas serious or not, though."

"Well, he's not Sirius," Harry made the obligatory pun, "but you should take him seriously. If you want your death to be remembered, going during the third task is the way to go, right Cedric?"

"Why are you asking me?" Cedric asked.

"Graveyard?" Harry said, seemingly random.

"Run like hell," Cedric replied, having been asked this a good four dozen times since he'd been chosen as a champion alone.

"I don't vant to die during the Playoffs at all," Viktor protested.

Harry shrugged. "Then don't worry about it."

"Only champions in the tent, boys," Ludo Bagman said, eyeing Fred and George, who were plotting in a corner. "Now I may not know which of you is which, but only one of you is a champion."

"About that," George said. "The Goblet of Fire said that the champion was 'Fred Weasley' and I legally changed my name last week, so I am now, legally, 'George Fred Weasley' and as such I am entitled to compete as well."

Bagman looked gobsmacked. "I'll…have to run that by the other judges, certainly, and I'll get back to you before it's your brother's turn. Now, the task is to collect a golden egg from a nesting dragon. There are five models and you will pick a miniature of the dragon you will face out of this bag." He waited, but the champions (and George) all spectacularly failed to react. "Oh come on," he said, annoyed. "You could at least pretend to be surprised!"

Obligingly, Harry gasped. "Gosh, this has got to be the most unexpected event I've ever encountered! Dragons? I don't think I've even seen a dragon!"

"That's a little over-the-top, don't you think?" Cedric asked.

Harry shrugged. "I'm reacting for six people here; take it or leave it."

Fred was the first to choose and got the Welsh Green. Cedric was second with the Chinese Fireball. Fleur was third with the Swedish Short. Harry actually got to pick this time but somehow ended up with the Hungarian Horntail again. Viktor was last and he got the previously unseen Peruvian Vipertooth. Harry thought it was kind of strange that while everybody else got different dragons, he was stuck with the same one – and the hardest, too – but then again it might be kind of odd if none of them were a duplicate.

When Bagman pulled him outside for a 'quick word' right before running George's name change by the other judges, Harry cut him off with some advice. "If you're betting I win the Playoffs, make sure that your bet does not preclude a tie. I don't really see that happening, but you never know. I have been known to be stupidly noble like that."

Cedric and Fleur, Harry presumed, did the same thing against their dragons as he didn't see why anything he did would have made the do otherwise. Fred and George's attempt – apparently the judges had voted in favor of letting them both compete? Strange – lasted less than five minutes and Harry had to admit that he was curious about what they could have possibly done.

Then it was his turn. Sure, he was older and wiser now and probably could have done something spectacular…but on the other hand, he REALLY liked to fly. And he was amazing at it, so why should he mess with success? And just to avoid the uncomfortable standing around with everyone wondering what he was doing or if it worked, he had Neville bring his broom down with him, so he only needed to summon if from the crowd.

After flying around for a bit and successfully irritating the Hungarian Horntail to the point where she left her nest to go chasing after him, he totally copied Viktor (who, since he had yet to go, would look like he was copying Harry) and cast a Conjunctivitis Curse at the dragon before swooping back down to grab the egg. Since – unlike Viktor – he had the sense to lure the dragon away from the eggs before casting the curse, she didn't smash any of the eggs so his precious points should be secure.

"What did you guys do?" Harry demanded as soon as he saw the twins. "And why is Luna a judge?"

"I transfigured a rock into a sheep and stuck a modified canary cream on it. When the dragon ate it, it transformed into a canary, Fred grabbed the egg and threw it to me," Fred explained.

"If it turned it into a canary, how was it modified?" Harry asked, feeling oblivious.

"Because they don't normally work on dragons," George explained.

"We needed two people because while I was getting the distraction/immobilization ready, Fred was sneaky closer to the nest and then since the canary cream only lasted for a minute, it was all we could do to get it back to safety before it transformed back," Fred continued.

"As for Luna, when George and I went out there to see if he could compete, Luna explained that even though the Headmistress for the Salem Witches' Academy was too busy to come personally, she had authorized Luna to act in her place and that included judging," George concluded.

"Wow," Harry said admiringly. "I should have thought of that."

"That may have been too insane even for you," Cedric suggested.

Harry shuddered. "Don't say that!"f

At that moment Krum stormed into the medical tent. "I did not copy you!" he hissed.

"I never said you did," Harry pointed out, confused.

"They do," Viktor said, gesturing towards the crowd. "And this despite the fact I could not even hear vhat vas going on from the tent!"

Harry shrugged. "Sorry." With that, Harry went to go find his friends to see if they could tell him how the other champions did.

Apparently Cedric had just managed to avoid an injury when the dog he'd transfigured a rock into lost the dragon's interest, but his shirt did catch on fire, much to the delight of all of his fangirls when he was forced to remove it. Fleur managed to avoid getting her skirt on fire this time and as for Viktor…half his eggs still got smashed.

Madame Maxime gave Fleur ten, Cedric, Fred, and Harry a nine, and Viktor a five. A little favoritism, but one point (or two, given the Second Task) wasn't going to win or lose anyone the Playoffs. Crouch gave Harry a ten, Krum a five, and everyone else a nine. Dumbledore gave everyone a nine except for Viktor, who got another five. Bagman gave Harry a ten, Fleur, Cedric, and Fred a 7, and Krum yet another five. Karkaroff gave Viktor a ten and everyone else a five. Lockhart gave Harry and Fred both a ten, Fleur and Cedric an eight, and Viktor a five. Luna, after some long hard deliberation, gave Fred a ten for creativity, Harry an eight for showing off, Cedric and Fleur a nine for a solid performance and Krum a five.

"Vhy vas it alvays a five?" Krum wondered.

Harry shrugged. "You smashed half the eggs you get half the points. That sounds fair."

"So that's Fleur with 57, Cedric with 56, Fred with 59, Harry with 61, and Krum with 40," Hermione announced.

"And I'm currently winning because I have TWO people with blatant favoritism on my side. Although it pains me that my own school representative voted against me…" Harry said, shaking his head ruefully.

"That's what you get for showing off," Luna said sternly.

"Isn't that the point of the Playoffs?" Harry demanded.

"You were taking requests," Luna pointed out.

Note: I would have introduced the Salem Headmistress, but sadly I have a crippling hatred of OCs, so I figured it would be best to avoid them.

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