Author's Note: First, welcome! Second, the beginning of this story popped into my head while I was on vacation. I had hoped to get caught up writing chapters for my other fic, Soul Magic, but this just wouldn't leave me alone until I put the start of it down on paper. I haven't abandoned Soul Magic and it is my first priority, but I will continue to work on both stories now. It'll be nice to have a break but still keep the creative juices flowing by moving from one to the other.

I'll just spend a few sentences giving you a longer summary so that you know what you are getting into.

Premise: What if the Goblet of Fire had a charge to protect its champions from harm/death outside of the tournament until it was completed? How would that have changed the course of Harry's life if the goblet had altered the killing curse that had been aimed at Cedric to something else instead?

Pairing: Begins with Harry/Cedric, and then will slowly move to Harry/Charlie. Some may not understand how I will make that transition but there will be a point to it.

Plot: Will focus on mostly cannon events with a few exceptions/additions as the story progresses and the obvious partner I pair Harry with. Voldemort has his horcruxes and they work as they do in cannon. One thing I will focus on will be on how the removed horcrux from Harry's scar affects him going forward.

Length: TBD but most likely greater than 200k or so.

Posted 7/20/15

Standard disclaimer about not owning anything; I am so thankful for JKR and all that she did for us. She gave us one of the greatest gifts, and so many people have taken to this site and played brilliantly with her creation. We should have a JKR day and it should be a global holiday!

Harry and Cedric hit the hard ground, unprepared for the sudden portkey experience and stumbling to remain upright while the Triwizard Cup tumbled to the ground next to where they finally managed to stand. It took a few seconds before either of them could make sense of their new surroundings after they had been transported to this place that did not give them a feeling that was altogether comforting.

"Harry, did you know this was a portkey?" The older boy asked, confused but holding his wand out in front of him in a defensive manner.

"Not at all," Harry replied. He was more focused on why this place seemed familiar to him, as if he had been here before. His mind was intent on figuring out why he had this faint recognition and what it could mean; but like usual, he couldn't quite make the final connection.

"I think I have seen this place before, or at least, I feel like I have," Harry started before finishing abruptly with, "something's not right."

He had just uttered those words when his scar erupted in a searing pain and he fell to his knees, holding his unwanted memento from the night of his parent's death with his left hand while his right hand tightly gripped his wand as he tried to hold it in front of him.

Cedric rushed over to his side, "Harry! Harry, what is it? Are you all right?" He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, not knowing what else to do to assuage the younger boy's obvious discomfort. His attention was so focused on Harry's well-being that he failed to notice a hunched over figure emerging from behind a large stone structure, carrying what looked to be a baby.

"Kill the spare!" An eerie voice commanded, causing Cedric's head to snap around, looking for the source of that chilling sound.

Seconds, Cedric only had seconds to recognize the odd pair that stood in front of him before the larger figure covered in a shabby cloak unsheathed his wand and held it in front of him.

"Avada Kedavra," he cried, unleashing a sickly, green jet of light that was barreling straight towards Cedric's heart.

Time slowed. Cedric stopped breathing and felt like he was watching the scene unfold in front of him at a sluggish pace; however, he was unable to do anything to combat the death that he knew was coming.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Cedric noticed that the Triwizard Cup had begun to glow, and the jet of green light that had been inching ever closer to where he stood instantly began to change course.

Breath entered into his lungs once more and time seemed to speed up all around him, and the curse picked up pace and screamed into Harry Potter. His anguished cries were instantly silenced as his body was thrown backwards due to the force of the curse, careening into a tombstone right next to where the Triwizard Cup laid.

Cedric watched, horrified as Harry's body came to a rest, lying facedown with his wand held loosely in his right hand.

Harry blinked away the sharpness of the white light until his eyes adjusted to his new surroundings. He felt different: his mind was clearer than it had ever been and his body felt light and solid and strong, with no trace of the pain that he had been suffering from moments earlier. In fact, he found it quite hard to remember what he had just been doing and the more time that went on the harder it became.

'Where am I?' He thought to himself, supporting himself with his arms as he pushed off of the ground to stand up. He looked around and saw nothing but white in every direction that he looked except for a dark, black mass a few feet in front of him.

He began to walk towards the unknown object when a familiar voice called out to him, "You can't help it. No one can, at least not anymore."

Harry tensed, and slowly turned around to face the person whose sound was among the very first that he had committed to memory. A sound that he was doomed to hear crying out every time a Dementor came too close to him.

She stood there, her luminous red hair falling to her shoulders to frame her lightly freckled and beautiful face, beckoning him to join her with outstretched arms.

"Mum?" he said in a disbelieving whisper, unable to stop the tears from beginning to collect in his eyes as he slowly moved towards her.

Her eyes smiled at him and she nodded her head in confirmation.

"My sweet, brave boy," Lily called to him as he came face to face with her, being just as tall now as she had been. The subsequent hug was everything that Harry had thought and dreamt that it would be. There was tenderness and support and love, unconditional love in it.

The smile that had been growing on Harry's face from his heart finally getting its wish faltered as his sharper mind quickly worked through how this was possible.

"Am I dead?" He asked, a part of him not caring if that was the case because he had just gotten something that he had always wanted.

Lily's eyebrows scrunched up in thought as she backed out of the hug but remained holding onto Harry's shoulders, continuing to provide him with emotional support.

"That depends on you," she replied mysteriously.

"On me?" Harry was confused. He didn't know how to feel about where he was or anything that was going on.

She reached out and gently traced the scar that had faded quite considerably in only a few moments. One of his defining features was no longer that apparent.

"I can't say anything about how you got here; I can't interfere," she said sadly. A pained look was in her eyes that lingered for a moment before her features brightened and she smiled again, her quick intellect finding a way to skirt around the restrictions placed on her by the powers that allowed her to be here.

"But I can say that how you got here is important," she looked him straight in the eyes, emphasizing the meaning of her words.

Harry nodded his understanding and committed it to memory even though he had no idea of what she was talking about in that moment.

"Your time is almost up, darling. You need to make a decision if you want to return," she spoke as she swept Harry's hair out of his eyes to get a last look at his emerald eyes, so much like her own. She already knew what his choice would be.

"What good will it do if I return?" Harry didn't want to be parted so quickly, but the mere thought of him returning made his memories of the graveyard that he had come from return to him and it was getting easier and easier to remember.

"Cedric!" He gasped. "I can't leave him there with Wormtail but…"

Harry looked his mum over and, even as he spent time memorizing her face, she began to fade and the white light that had been all-encompassing was beginning to darken. He could feel himself going back but he wanted to remain with her longer.

"Your father and I will always be with you, Harry. We live inside your heart," she finished and rested her hand over his chest.

Harry was having trouble seeing her now and his body was gradually beginning to feel the hard ground and aching muscles courtesy of the killing curse.

Her last words came softly but would forever remain ingrained in his mind: "good luck."

And then he opened his eyes just a sliver and fully reconnected his senses to the present. He would have to process what had just happened later because of the scene progressing rapidly in front of him required all of his attention.

His first instinct was to act but he found his mind was quicker than it used to be and it urged him to wait and observe because something told him that he might only get one chance with this.

"Wormtail, you idiot," a cold and sinister voice hissed from a swath of clothes that Peter Pettigrew was holding like a baby.

"M-master, it wasn't my fault. The cup! The cup glowed when I cast the curse and hit Harry Potter instead. I swear it, my Lord."

Cries of rage were heard that sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

"M-master, please," Wormtail begged. "We can still use Harry Potter's blood!" he said hopefully.

"No we can't! The blood has to be taken from something alive. You are beyond useless; my one chance at regaining a body from Harry bloody Potter, lost due to your incompetence and excuses."

"We can use the other boy; he is just lying there now, unconscious!" Pettigrew whined hopefully.

"Yes Wormtail, be proud that you managed to stun a wizard far younger than yourself," the unseen voice chided as it simultaneously became calmer that all was not lost.

"However," the voice that Harry now reasoned was Voldemort spoke, less harshly than before, "he is still my enemy and his blood will still do. Prepare the cauldron," it commanded.

Harry lied there as Pettigrew quickly set to work gathering ingredients and conjuring a cauldron for something that Harry was positive was not going to be used for anything good after hearing words like 'regaining a body.' He had to make his plans fast, and he was thankful that his mind was up to the challenge.

'Okay, what do I need to do?' he asked himself, aware that the next few moments were critical to his success in getting out of there.

Harry soon came up with his objective: he would free Cedric, somehow manage to get Pettigrew or some sort of proof of his existence to free Sirius, and then get out of there before Voldemort – or whatever that sickly form was – knew what happened/killed him.

'Is the cup still a portkey?' he asked himself, recognizing that he needed a way to get them out of there fast.

However, Pettigrew worked surprisingly quickly under the fear of his master and Cedric's cry broke Harry away from his thoughts.

Cedric was now conscious, bleeding, and tied to a demonic statue that Pettigrew was walking away from and towards the now lit cauldron, grasping a shiny silver dagger covered in what must have been Cedric's blood.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken," Pettigrew began to intone as he dripped the thick red liquid into the bubbling brew.

Harry watched, petrified and unable to move as Wormtail then summoned bones of the father before slicing his own hand off to add to the shimmering liquid that had changed color with each new addition.

When the last ingredient that was the crippled form of Voldemort was added, Harry finally managed to break the trance of what was happening before him and jumped into action.

His wand quickly shot off a stunner that nailed Pettigrew from behind, taking him out instantly while the cauldron started to smoke and shoot fire into the sky. Knowing that he didn't have much time, he ran to Cedric and cut the bonds that held him upright. Cedric's body sagged into Harry's smaller frame and the younger wizard strained to remain upright while using his wand to summon Pettigrew's limp form to his feet.

The next moment, everything changed and the cauldron started morphing into the form of a tall male.

Harry, staring into the red, bloodthirsty eyes of his parent's killer, had just called the Triwizard Cup to him when a murderous roar sounded in his ears as the portkey began to tug on his navel and they were all transported to Hogwarts.

Let me know what you think!