Salutations all my friends and readers out there!

So you all would have noticed that I had taken 'Pandemonium' and 'Glorious Chaos' down after reaching obstacles in the road to writing them both, however due to multiple requests for their return and the most helpful – er help – of another reader who took the time to metaphorically sit me down and have a chat, I've decided to put Pandemonium back up for the public to read and cringe over!

I want to reiterate for any new readers that this story is NOT in progress and is marked as complete for a reason. Do not expect any more updates to this story for the foreseeable future, I'm only posting it because it has fans who wanted it back, and how could I deny them when I remember the pain I felt when Ianto Jones died and didn't come back either?

PANDEMONIUM

"The Durmstrang Champion is… Viktor Krum!"

Harry Potter felt his body tensing even further at the name, squeezing the hand in his gently as he shot his best friend a nervous look.

"One down," Hermione whispered to him. Ron was shooting her a curious glance from across the table, their hands thankfully hidden beneath the table top. "Just relax, you'll give yourself a heart attack," she added softly, when Ron turned away.

"Rather my own body killed me than the Tournament," Harry murmured back, forcing an uncomfortable smile onto his face for her.

As the burly Hungarian Seeker left the Great Hall and entered the Trophy Room beyond it, Harry watched as the Goblet of Fire flared red once more, a second slip of paper flying from its mouth. "The Champion for Beauxbatons is," Dumbledore called out slowly as he turned to face the stands where the French students were all gathered, "Fleur Delacour!"

"She has beautiful hair," Hermione mumbled absently. Harry couldn't stop himself from turning to grin at her, making her blush as her hand rose up to tug at her hair. "Look at her Harry. I look like I licked a power socket or something," she defended.

"I dunno, your hair has definitely calmed down," he whispered back to her, making her blush deepen.

"Hey! Chris McMillan," Seamus hissed from his other side, "Hogwarts' is about to be announced, so zip it!"

"Hogwarts Champion!" Dumbledore called out as he unfolded the slip of paper, "Cedric Diggory!"

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry exhaled as the Great Hall erupted into cheers, "It wasn't me".

"Told you so Harry!" Hermione pointed out smugly, as they watched Cedric standing to a round of applause, "You had nothing to worry about, Dumbledore wouldn't let you get entered against-" "HARRY POTTER" "-your will," she finished weakly, as the dreaded call interrupted her.

Harry's stomach clenched painfully, as he stared up the Great Hall, to where Dumbledore was standing with a fourth piece of parchment in his hand. He was looking around slowly to try find him. This was it then? He couldn't just get the murder attempt over and done with this year. It had to be spread out across the year as part of the Tournament, set up for people three years his senior?

"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore called out again.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whimpered, as heads swivelled and people started looking for him, angry mutters slowly beginning to fill the air.

"Screw them!" Harry muttered stubbornly, slumping down in his seat, "I'm not moving".

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore called out, Harry meeting the old man's blue eyes as they sought him out where he was trying to slouch. "Harry Potter!"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, "Go on".

"Screw them!" Harry repeated angrily, as everyone stared, Ron's face steadily turning an angry red from opposite them. "I didn't put my name in, you know I didn't!" he argued.

"Tell them that," Hermione explained, "Tell them the truth and they'll take you out of it. The Ministry won't stand for this!"

"Since when has the Ministry ever been competent?" Harry countered, standing slowly and stepping out into the aisle. Taking a deep breath, he announced to the hall, "No, I didn't put my name in and I'm not competing. Just- Just no."

Before anyone could react, Harry turned and stalked out of the Great Hall, ignoring the wave of furious whispers that followed him. Clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked, Harry headed straight towards Gryffindor Tower. His hand twitched with the urge to just walk back into the Great Hall and hit the Goblet with the strongest 'Bombarda' he could manage.

He wasn't even surprised that his name was called out. Since the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, since his arrival to Hogwarts, he had fought of a possessed teacher, killed a thousand year old Basilisk, and saved his falsely imprisoned godfather from a horde of Dementors. Typical, really.

The only question had been how it would try to kill him. And truth be told, Harry was a little disappointed at how unoriginal the Goblet was. Couldn't it have just exploded and taken him down with it? Or perhaps it could have fallen on him and squashed him like a bug?

"Mr Potter!"

Stride faltering for a moment at his favourite Professor's voice, Harry slowed down but kept walking, giving Professor McGonagall the chance to catch up with him. "I'm afraid you have to go back in Mr Potter," the Professor apologized instantly, her voice neutral as if she didn't know whether to be angry or sympathetic, "Explain your side of things to the Judges and get them to withdraw your name. It's their duty to ensure your safety."

"I get the feeling they wouldn't believe me even if I did," Harry snorted darkly, his face twisting into a scowl as he kept walking. "No offence Professor, but I'm used to adults fucking me over," he said bluntly.

"Mr Potter!" McGonagall exclaimed, sounding both scandalized and offended.

"I'm sorry Professor, but you can't deny it," Harry snapped, as he spun around to stare at the flustered woman. "Every time I've gone to an adult, they've either dismissed me out of hand or tried to kill me. So I give up, if I go back in there then I'll be accused of cheating and then told that I have no choice but to compete. By leaving like this I can start researching ways to stay alive straight away," he explained simply.

Professor McGonagall stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed as she studied him. "You've given this a lot of thought haven't you?" she asked slowly.

"Well, Hermione did most of the thinking," he mumbled awkwardly, "But I've been here for three years Professor, and I've almost been killed during all three of those years. The moment the Tournament was announced, we knew what was going to happen. Hermione started planning what we'd do instantly, even if she tried to hide it from me," he finished, trying to justify his actions.

Professor McGonagall reached into her pocket and bought out a piece of parchment, tapping it with her wand and handing it to him with a knowing look. "I think you'll be needing this," she decided, "I would tell you to not share the books, but I doubt I would get to sleep tonight without Miss Granger banging down my door for her own slip."

Harry blinked down at the pass to the Restricted Section of the library in shock. "As your Head of House, I do hope you will come to me, should you or Miss Granger need any assistance," McGonagall added, before turning and striding away, leaving him standing there with a bemused expression.

"Huh" Harry exhaled as he glanced down at the pass in his hands, the corner of his lip twitching up in the ghost of a smile. "What d'you know?" he murmured to himself, "Someone finally on my side."

PANDEMONIUM

"I don't get it! Why are there no books on Magical Contracts here?" Hermione exclaimed in annoyance, "This is Hogwarts, there has to be at least one!"

Harry twitched uncomfortably in his chair, catching Hermione's attention with the movement as he pulled a face. "I think there were books," he agreed slowly, "I think…I think someone got them all out on purpose. Let me finish," he said quickly, when the bushy-haired girl opened her mouth to speak, "We know there are books on Magical Contracts. We used them last year to help Hagrid and Buckbeak remember? But now suddenly, on the night my name gets pulled from the Goblet of Fire, they all disappear? I don't think that's a coincidence Hermione."

"So what? You think the person who put your name in the Goblet issued them all out to stop you from finding a way out of the contract?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"It makes sense," Harry pointed out with a shrug, "Not that I think they were actually dumb enough to issue them out, that'd leave a paper trail. I think they would have snuck in and just taken them; that's what I would have done."

"You have a habit of just taking things anyway," Hermione muttered under her breath, making Harry blush awkwardly at the mention of his instinctive hoarding. "I think you might be right though," she confessed thoughtfully before standing up, "I'm going to get all the books I can find on the Triwizard Tournament. There might be hints at what to expect."

"Other than pain and dismemberment, you mean?" Harry dead-panned making Hermione scowl at him.

"You go put that pass to good use," she scolded, "Go find some spell books you think might be useful," she ordered, pointing her finger in the direction of the Restricted Section.

"Yes Professor Granger," Harry replied in mock obedience, standing and quickly making his way towards the back rooms as Hermione's squawk of mock outrage followed him through the shelves.

Quickly entering the dark section of the library, Harry mumbled out a Lumos charm and held his glowing wand out in front of him. Walking down the aisles, Harry stared at the tomes, looking for something that might be useful. Picking a shelf at random, he squinted at the book titles. Glancing at one that wasn't in a language he recognised, Harry froze as he watched the letters glow softly before 'dancing' across the spine of the book and settling into a golden embossed 'Book of Faces'.

Shifting his grip on his wand awkwardly, Harry pulled the red leather book from the shelf and carried it down the aisle to a small desk. Frowning down at the strangely familiar book, Harry ran his fingers over the letters on the front as they reshuffled themselves into English as well, a dull throbbing coming to life behind Harry's eyes. Reaching out, Harry opened the book to a random page and let out a startled yelp as a face suddenly pushed through the page and started screaming at him.

Slamming the book shut quickly, he clutched at his chest in shock, feeling his heart pounding like a jack-hammer as hurried footsteps warned him seconds before Hermione burst around the corner, a wild look in her eyes and her wand-tip glowing brightly.

"I'm okay," Harry assured her quickly, "Just, uh, just a scary book, is all," he dismissed weakly.

Hermione shot him a disbelieving look and moved over to push him out of the way, not noticing the smirk tugging at his lips as she squinted down at the book cover in the dim wand-light. "I think it's in Latin," she mumbled, "I can't read what it says, my Latin is rather limited to guessing what spells do."

"It says 'Book of Faces'," Harry reported with a shrug, confused about how he could read it when his Latin was normally worse than Hermione's.

"You can barely read English Harry," Hermione pointed out dryly, "Dyslexia doesn't mean you can read other languages perfectly."

"I dunno Hermione, I just know it says 'Book of Faces'," he defended, as Hermione gave him a slight disbelieving look. "Open it," he suggested innocently.

While, the look Hermione gave him implied she didn't believe his innocent face at all, she still turned back to the book however and opened it without fanfare to a random page. Harry couldn't stop his chuckle as Hermione screamed back at the book, flailing backwards and tripping over her own feet, hitting the ground as Harry cast a spell on the book to close it. "You bastard!" she hissed, scrambling to her feet with a glare on her face, "You did that on purpose!"

Harry paused for effect before nodding simply. "Yup," he admitted plainly, not wishing to insult either of their intelligence when they both would know he had been lying.

Hermione scowled at him before smoothing down her robes and sniffed indignantly, "I'm going to start reading the books on the Tournament" she decided, "You can join me, when you decide to start being serious."

As Hermione swept away ignoring his apology, Harry rolled his shoulders and strengthened his Lumos charm, grabbing the Book of Faces to return it to the shelves. Continuing his search, Harry skipped a series of books creepily entitled 'Fearful Magicks of the Soul', and instead focused on a book simply called the 'Fire Grimoire' in the strange Latin that danced into English.

Hesitantly pulling the book from the shelf, Harry propped it up in his elbow and placed his hand on the lock to see if it would open. A hiss of pain slipped from his lips as something cut him and he dropped the book to the ground. Holding his wand over his hand, Harry scowled at the small gash that had opened up on his palm, freezing as he saw something glowing. He glanced past his hand in time to see the lock on the book flare once and vanish.

Grimacing, Harry squatted down and prodded nervously at the book, waiting until he was sure nothing was going to happen before pulling it open. Watching as the Latin written on the pages glowed and turned into English, Harry's jaw dropped as he realised the book was apparently an in-depth guide to fire-based spells, if the pages he could see in front of him were any indication. Picking the book up to show Hermione, Harry froze at the sight of what was beneath the book, blood still dripping from the gash on his hand and swirling across the floor to form a captivatingly familiar symbol.

A wand, made out of what look like his blood appeared on the floor with two crescent moons sitting back to back on either side of the wand's middle. Their curves pointing away from the wand, facing in opposite directions. Even though he couldn't place it, Harry was one hundred percent certain that he had seen the symbol somewhere before.

"Mr Potter!"

Harry's head snapped up guiltily to see Madam Pince standing at the end of the aisle with a glare on her face, "Detention!" the witch barked as Harry stood up quickly, "The Restricted Section is forbidden to those without proper authorization!"

"Oh! Uh, I have permission," Harry quickly corrected, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the slip Professor McGonagall gave to him, handing it over to the approaching Librarian. Faltering as he stared at his uninjured hand in confusion, he almost missed the woman's gentle apology.

"If there is anything I can do to help you find a book in here let me know Mr Potter," Madam Pince continued, "some of these books are cursed and as such can be dangerous."

"Yeah, I already found one that screamed at me when I opened it," Harry mumbled awkwardly, as he hoped the Librarian didn't look down at the small pool of his blood on the floor.

"Ah the Book of Faces," Pince murmured slowly, "Useless book. Doesn't contain anything of note. It does scare the youngsters something fierce, though."

Blinking in shock at the Librarian's apparent sadistic side, Harry mumbled out a farewell as she turned and strode away from him, leaving him to look down at the now shapeless pool of blood at his feet. Swallowing uncertainly, Harry vanished the blood with a wave of his wand and hurried out of the Restricted Section to where Hermione was waiting for him.

"I found this," Harry began as he sat down, wanting to put the blood symbol out of his mind, "It looks like an entire book on fire magic."

"That's good," Hermione murmured hesitantly, looking pained and angry at the same time, "Because apparently the tasks are related to the four elements."

"Hermione?" Harry pushed slowly when she didn't look up at him, "What's wrong?"

"I spoke to Madam Pince when she arrived," Hermione confessed, "And I asked to see the issuing logs. I found out who 'stole' the books on Magical Contracts."

Harry blinked at her in shock, not actually having expected someone to be that stupid and feeling slightly dumb for dismissing it out of hand earlier. "Who was it?" he asked when Hermione didn't continued, "Was it Vol- You-Know-Who?" he added nervously.

"Worse," Hermione admitted, a look of betrayal in her eyes as she finally looked up at him, "Albus Dumbledore."

PANDEMONIUM

"If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie. You didn't get into trouble for it, did you?" Ron ground out, his disbelief and the barely hidden anger already, cluing Harry in that his friend didn't believe him.

"That friend of the Fat Lady's, Violet, she's already told us what happened," Ron continued, "Dumbledore and the Ministry are letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do the end of year tests either," he said slowly.

"But I didn't put my name in that Goblet!" Harry snapped, his own temper beginning to rise at the red-head's stupidity, "Hermione and I have been spending the entire night trying to find a way out of it!"

"Yeah, OK," said Ron, stubbornly refusing to budge, "I'm not stupid, you know?"

"Yeah, well you've definitely fooled me with the impression you're currently doing," Harry forced out coldly.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, his face going dark. "You might want to get to bed Harry, I expect you'll need to be up early for a photo call or something."

He sneered at him, before spinning around and climbing onto his bed, violently yanking the hangings shut around the four-poster bed.

"Stubborn arse," Harry spat, knowing full well that Ron could still hear him.

Growling under his breath, Harry turning and stalked into the bathroom, hitting the door with a locking spell, in addition to dropping the bar over it. Turning on the taps at the sink with a flick of his wand, Harry placed it on the side of the sink and leaned forward to splash his face, wishing pointlessly that he could wake up to find he had just fallen asleep waiting for the names to be called. Groaning to himself as he splashed his face again and scrubbed at his previously injured palm absently, Harry shook his head like a dog to clear most of the water off before exhaling slowly and looking up at the mirror.

As he stared at his reflection, he jumped as the mirror fogged up as if someone was breathing on it, watching in growing horror as the symbol from the library floor was slowly drawn on the steamy mirror. Nervously reaching for his wand, Harry froze in place as two red pinpricks appeared in the mirror. A couple of seconds passing before he realised that someone with red eyes was watching him through the mirror.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the mirror rippled and a pale hand reached through it to grasp the front of his robes, roughly pulling him through before he could react.

Falling through the blackness that now surrounded him, Harry flailed uselessly before landing in something with a loud splash, the liquid filling his mouth even as he instinctively inhaled. Instead of choking and spluttering like he expected to do, Harry just breathed in a mouthful of pure air, leaving him fully submerged for a moment, before his brain caught up and he kicked off the bottom the of the pool he was in.

Breaching the surface of the water, Harry felt dozens of hands grasping his somehow dry clothing and heaving him out of the pool to drop him on the ground. Giggles filling the air as hands clung to him, Harry wiped his eyes on the back of his hand even as he struggled to free himself from the black-haired and red-eyed women surrounding him with huge black wings sprouting from their backs.

"Come now my sweets," a silky voice drawled from somewhere beyond the mass of touchy women, "Let's not overwhelm your brother shall we?"

Harry had just brushed off the use of the word 'brother' when the women parted, revealing a final woman lounging gracefully on a huge black throne, a familiar woman with fire-red hair and gleaming emerald green eyes.

"Oh my little Hadrian," the Lily look-alike whispered softly, a gentle smile on her face as she reached a hand towards Harry, cupping the air as one would a face. "You look just like your father," she exhaled with a longing expression on her face.

"Wh- who?" Harry gasped out, his body trembling against his will under the sheer amount of power he could see in her eyes.

"Who am I?" the woman finished knowingly. "Some call me Eris, and others Discordia. I am the Goddess of Discord," she introduced quietly, standing from her throne and beginning to sway her way towards him. "The Queen of Strife. The Inventor of the Slinky. And Bringer of sweet, glorious, Chaos," she breathed out as she knelt before him and cupped his face truly this time.

"But of course," she continued with a small smirk, "You can just call me 'Mum'."