Hello, I know, updating this story after leaving it dormant for months? What can I say? I write nothing for ages and then I write 3000 words in one day and have to immediately post it.

Regardless, thanks for all the reviews and favourites and follows! It's very kind of you, though I understand I've probably disappointed you by not updating. I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless.

Edit: This chapter's layout messed up the first time I posted it, fanfiction was being problematic... I had to reupload the chapter, hopefully now it appears fine.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, an ancient school dedicated to cultivating the magical gifts of each and every person who comes through our doors. It is my great pleasure to welcome our lovely guests from their respective institutions. We hope to take good care of you during your stay here."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as he surveyed the great hall, which was feeling quite packed with the cluster of new students sitting amongst the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. At the teacher's table, a collection of specialists from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were also present.

"You have all been invited here to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, an ancient tournament where wizards and witches from each of our schools compete to the best of our abilities. First though, I expect you're all hungry. Shall we begin the feast?" Dumbledore addressed this question to Maxime and Karkaroff, sitting on either side of him.

"Let us eat," Maxime agreed. She then said a few words in a strange language – not French; Latin perhaps.

No sooner had she spoken then the glistening dishes in front of them magically filled themselves with food – as they did at every meal. Even then, it seemed to be an extravagant amount. Harry grinned, filling his plate with food.

"Was that a spell she cast?" Harry asked Hermione, who was seated opposite him.

It was Ron, who answered however. "A blessing, probably. She's a Sage, they're really good at those sorts of minor boons."

Hermione seemed to perk up. "A sage!? I've read about them, they're supposed to be stronger in areas of high magical concentration. Like, they absorb magic from the air and then they can manipulate it."

Harry nodded. "Good she's working in a magic school then," he replied, examining the Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Supposedly every class could be identified from the robes the wizard (or witch) wore. They all had specific patterns or colours, so they could be identified at a glance. Professor Hickory, their history teacher had spoken about this method of identification being introduced almost immediately after the creation of the ministry of magic. It was supposed to help wizards focus on their unique magic if they were distinct, allowing them to achieve greater things than if they stuck to general magic anyone could learn. It also meant others could recognise their class at a glance which the ministry found to be extremely useful. It was illegal to wander the wizarding world without displaying your class in some way, and more illegal to pretend to be a different class, not this was always easy to enforce.

Of course, there were loads of different classes with distinct specialisations. Harry had no hope of recognising them all at a glance though he could get the gist. Anything to do with runes would always clearly have a spiralling rune on the shoulders – which meant language according to Hermione. All classes of healing magic including a long white scarf. Each elemental class were easy to recognise by the symbol of their element. Seers of all kinds had that stylised eye on their back. After a few years in the wizarding world, Harry was becoming more adept at recognising many of the classes, or at least the branches.

But now there were all these new witches and wizards with specialisations he hadn't encountered before. As he ate generous amounts of food, (including the odd foreign dish), he examined what he could see of the foreign students. They were all at least 17, of course, and there wasn't a single generalist pattern in sight. Was that because there were none who hadn't discovered their speciality or had some students chosen not to come to the tournament? He was thinking the latter, given the high number of classes suited to battle, and very few seer classes.

He recalled the illusionist he had noticed earlier from Beauxbatons and scanned the table for her. Hermione had mentioned as the trailed in how illusionists were troublesome. Supposedly, they had a reputation for being thieves and, though it was a rare class, there had been a few notable dark wizard illusionists. He couldn't see the girl seated anywhere. Was she hidden?

At that moment, a voice spoke up on his left. "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?

Harry turned, startled, to see the very girl who had been on his mind. She shot him a teasing grin that didn't quite reach her eyes at his reaction. How had he missed her walking across the hall?

"Yeah," he managed to say, turning to grab the dish. "I mean, yeah you can have it."

He glanced at his friends. Hermione looked nervous. Ron looked awed.

The girl accepted the dish gracefully. "Merci," she said with a nod.

She turned away, and this time Harry focussed on her, wondering if she would suddenly disappear. Her robes were garish in the well-lit room and he supposed it was to make it harder for her to disappear from sight. Yet, before his eyes, the room seemed to ripple ever so slightly, and the blur of colour seemed to become less distinct. Harry forced himself to focus on her, but she faded into a shadow and then into nothing at all. She was invisible. Perhaps she'd sat down at the table again, but if so there was nothing to see unless she wished it to be.

"The illusionist, she doesn't seem to use spells at all, does she?" Harry asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the Ravenclaw table.

"It's absurd, isn't it? She could be right next to us and we wouldn't know. We didn't know," Hermione replied. "I guess we can be glad she decided to announce herself to us at all."

"And she was really beautiful, was that magic?" Ron agreed, looking markedly less worried.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, honestly. Her whole appearance was probably fake, she's an illusionist!"

Her appearance? Once again, it was mostly a blur to him. He just remembered brilliant blue eyes and that fake smile. Funny, she had the power to manipulate what people saw, yet she still couldn't manage a real smile.

As the feast drew to a close, the anticipation in the room seemed to grow. Dinner's conversation had soon moved into speculation on how the champions would be chosen and who the champion for Hogwarts would be. Hermione's research into the tournament had failed to dig up much information and so a plethora of ideas were being discussed. Fred and George were discussing whether the judge could be tricked, as Fred was very keen to enter. George was an enchanter like Hermione and was planning on entering some of the side competitions more suited to his abilities.

Finally, the desserts were cleared away and Dumbledore stood him, allowing a hush to fall over the hall. "Now that we are all fed and watered, the time has come to formally introduce the Triwizard tournament!"

"From each school, one champion will be chosen to compete in a series of tasks. These tasks will be dangerous so do consider carefully before you make your decision. If you are chosen, you must compete!"

"In each task, save for the final task, our chosen champion will also be able to select a companion to help them. This companion should be able to cover their shortcomings as you all have your own talents," Dumbledore explained. It seemed Hermione's books had been right about that much.

"If you are still intent on competing, we ask that you be of age. There have been several attempts to bring back the tournament over the years and we hope that with these extra safety features introduced this year, it will be a successful event." Dumbledore smiled at some of the groans from Hogwarts students too young to compete.

"Now, to introduce our judge…" Dumbledore trailed off, gesturing to the doors behind him where Hagrid emerged, bringing with him a large, heavy looking casket.

It was placed in the centre of the room, facing the staff table. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore let the casket open, revealing a large silver Goblet. Harry stared at it, wondering what it was supposed to do.

"This is the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore declared, and with another wave of his wand the Goblet burst into flame. Harry gasped, but a second later, blues flames began burning inside the strange artefact.

"The Goblet has been lit, therefore the Triwizard tournament has begun!"

Harry glanced around the hall, seeing faces a mixture of confusion and awe. It was a cool artefact, and opposite him, Hermione was eagerly scribbling down some notes on a piece of parchment, without taking her eyes off the burning Goblet.

"If you would like to compete, then please write your name down on some parchment, and your school. The Goblet of Fire will choose a worthy champion in 24 hours, at the Halloween feast."

Dumbledore then explained the age line he'd put around the Goblet to prevent any young wizards from trying to enter. Fred and George smirked to each other, already plotting ways around it. The tournament organisers were also introduced, including Mr Crouch and Ludo Bagman from the ministry.

Soon afterwards, they were dismissed. People immediately began surrounding the Goblet of Fire. The tournament sounded exciting though Dumbledore hadn't given any details on any of the tasks. How dangerous would they be? Would it be like the traps guarding the Philosopher's stone in his first year? Would all the people clamouring to participate still feel the same when they saw what they would be facing?

"It'd be amazing to participate, wouldn't it?" Ron spoke up, looking longingly at the Goblet of fire. As they watched, the sapphire flames suddenly turned a vibrant red. Someone was entering their name in now.

"Would it?"

"1000 galleons, eternal glory. Think of winning in front of everyone, proving that we're strong too." Ron was resting a hand on the longsword at his hip.

"Do you think we could do it?" Harry asked.

"Why shouldn't we? We've done lots of stuff we shouldn't have been able to do. Defeating Quirrell, finding the chamber of secrets, fighting a troll. We'd be great."

Harry frowned. "But I'm not a battle mage or something strong. Anyone can do what I can. Most of that was just luck, you know?"

Hermione turned towards them, finally looking away from the Goblet of fire. "Class isn't everything. Still, I think I'll be quite happy just watching it take place."

Later, as he was falling asleep in his bed up in Gryffindor tower, Harry considered his friend's words. He could see himself representing Hogwarts. Winning despite being a generalist. Proving his fame was not just for his mother's sacrifice but something he could live up to.

The next day passed in a whirlwind of expectation. People everywhere were speculating on who was entering the Tournament. The Beauxbatons students had done it all in a row at Breakfast and for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of the illusionist girl putting her name in too, before disappearing once more.

People spoke of her too, of how an illusionist was wandering around Hogwarts unchecked and what sort of trouble she was causing. Though she'd made herself scarce as much as possible, the rumours of her presence had spread rather quickly. Her lack of presence was not reassuring them at all.

It was a little unfair really, Harry was sure if she had been seen around the corridors people would be even more unnerved. Maybe she was walking around the corridors and simply no one recognised her, not if her garish robes were made to look normal. It wasn't like anyone actually had any idea what she looked like. A few people even suggested she was a boy.

More hype was made of Viktor Krum, a Durmstrang student. Harry had seen him fly at the Quidditch world cup, of course, but they hadn't realised he was still in school. Nor had they known that outside of his Quidditch kit, he was a powerful elementalist. Elementalists were gifted at fire, air, earth and water magic, and sometimes even more. As a quidditch player he was presumably especially talented at air magic.

Apparently, most Quidditch professionals had the sort of class that complemented their flying ability. It wasn't legal to cast magic in a Quidditch game, but some classes instinctively used magic and subtly improved themselves. It was almost impossible to prevent some classes some accessing their power and so they naturally had an advantage.

Harry had discovered he was a real natural on a broom – he loved flying. All his experimentation on it had yielded no results though. He hadn't been able to find any trends in his ability to fly and his class, despite his efforts.

Speaking of quidditch players, Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor chaser, had put her name in the Goblet of Fire. She was an aeromage, specialising wholly in air magic and had suggested Katie Bell as her companion in the tasks. Katie was only a fifth year, but she and Angelina were good friends and their specialisations complemented each other. The rules had not included any stipulations on the age of the companion.

Katie was a Spellsinger, she weaved magic through singing and was particularly good at spells relating to sounds. Angelina had found she was quite good at manipulating sound waves with her air magic and they had managed to create some impressive results by mixing their two talents. The more complicated the song was, the more powerful the magic and the pair of them were sure to be interesting.

Fred Weasley had claimed to want Katie as his companion too if he successfully entered – he was a Bard and channelled music and magic through instruments and through performance. Harry wasn't sure on the details, but he suspected that Fred's magic grew more potent in front of crowds, meaning it'd be at its best during the Tournament. Either way, he also worked well with Katie's singing.

Fred's aim to compete was not to be however, their efforts to get past Dumbledore's age line had failed, in comical ways. Not even the aging potion, brewed by their friend Lee Jordan (who specialised in potions) had worked. The white beard was something though.

Much as Harry would have like Angelina to be their champion though, there seemed to be some sort of consensus on Cedric Diggory, a sixth year Conjurer. Conjuration was all about creating things, or sometimes summoning things and Cedric was very good. Last year he'd shown off his duelling talent, creating objects and animals to distract and sometimes attack his opponent, mixed with plenty of general magic to disable.

By the time the Halloween feast came in the evening, Harry was anxious for the Tournament to begin. Even with just a brief time left, a few people were still approaching the Goblet of fire to throw their name in. Harry thought they were mad to do it in front of the whole school so soon before the results – he would've entered in the middle of the night, that way no one would know you'd entered.

The Halloween feast was always grand at Hogwarts of course, but they'd had a grand feast yesterday, and he wasn't that hungry. Even Ron had only taken a modest amount of food and he could see everyone's attention flickering to the Goblet of fire, burning merrily in the centre of the room. How would you know if you'd been chosen? What was going to happen?

The hall was always buzzing at mealtimes but every few minutes it seemed a hush would fall over the hall and everyone would stare at the Goblet as if expecting something to happen before conversation returned once more. It was rather unnerving really.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up at some sort of unspoken signal. He wandered over to the Goblet of fire and all conversation silenced one final time.

"It seems the Goblet is ready to make its decision," he declared. "Whoever's name comes out of the Goblet will be the Champion. Good luck!"

Several moments passed while the blue flames of the Goblet burned away merrily. Then they flashed a bright orange red and a tiny slip of paper flew out. Dumbledore reached out and expertly caught it.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"

There was roaring approval across the hall, a great eruption of noise as the Bulgarian seeker and elementalist stood up. Of course it was Viktor Krum, who else? He walked up to the front of the room, to cheers from all the schools, Karkaroff was looking particularly delighted, standing up to congratulate his school's champion.

As Viktor headed through doors on the other side of the Hall, the flames sparked red once again. A parchment fluttered out and Dumbledore was ready to catch it.

"The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" He announced.

There was a flurry of applause, though not nearly so booming as for Krum. Harry didn't recognise the name. He was therefore surprised to see it was the illusionist girl, visible once more and looking extra striking in her dazzling robes. Mutters arose across the hall as people recognised her, and her class.

She seemed unaffected by the lukewarm reception however, striding confidently through the hall looking every inch a champion in a way the duck-footed Krum hadn't managed. But then again, she could distort what people saw, and they were less than impressed with her perfection.

Fleur Delacour. The name suited her.

Fleur soon disappeared to join Krum in the room beyond and Harry turned his attention to the Goblet of Fire once more. He spared a glance for Angelina, further down the bench, staring at the Goblet through her fingers. She twitched as the Goblet turned a burning red once more, and a final name shot out of the Goblet.

"The Champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory!"

The hall burst into applause and cheers broke out at the Hufflepuff table. Angelina sighed and after a moment began clapping along as well. Cedric wasn't a Gryffindor, but Harry couldn't deny that he was a good champion. Last year he'd beaten Harry to the snitch, (though the dementors had thrown them off) and everything he'd heard said that Cedric was talented at magic. He stood up and marched confidently towards Dumbledore who shook his hand and followed the other champions into the side room.

Dumbledore beamed and began to make some concluding remarks, before breaking off suddenly.

The Goblet glowed red again and a piece of parchment flew out of the Goblet. Harry could hear the muttering across the hall. What was wrong? Even Dumbledore looked confused.

Nevertheless, he stared at the parchment intently before looking up at the gathered students.

"Harry Potter."

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to review.

I'd love to have someone to go over some of my ideas and maybe encourage me to update with regularity. I will try to update again as I have written out a vague plan for this story and I do want to complete it.

Please PM me if you'd be interested in helping out. In particular I was thinking of rewriting an earlier chapter a little and properly outline an actual resolution to the prisoner of Azkaban plotline, which really should've been changed from canon a little though the focus will stay on book 4, where I am introducing a few differences. Maybe I should try to be more different? I've stuck to a canon tone, but maybe it's too canon?