The morning dawned as bright as all others in Hogwarts. The transfigured window seat creaked underneath me as I looked out across the grounds; the lawns leading all the way down to the edge of the darkness that was the forest, and the start of a smoke trail leading from Hagrid's hut. The book on warding runes was left open on my lap as I looked out across the grounds, smiling as the sun started to light up the day.

I slipped my leather bookmark into the tome and slipped the book into my bag for later reading. Readjusting my green and silver tie, I stood and began the walk from my alcove back down to the great hall. The house-elves began breakfast at sunrise, and it stayed out all the way until classes started, no matter when sunrise was. The hall would be crowded today, there were only so many hours to eat when the day was started so late.

I ate at the end of the Slytherin table, as far from the other few fellow snakes as I could be. It was mutually beneficial; I didn't inflict myself on them and they left me alone. Quickly wolfing my meal down, I walked from the hall, ready to face another day. Only three more years, I was just about half way through.

The day passed as slow as ever, with insults from both sides. The Gryffindors hated me because I was a Slytherin, and I didn't fit the story's they had been told about me adventures, when in reality I was at the Dursleys, and the Slytherins hated me because I was Harry Potter, the boy who killed their master and robbed them of there rightful place in the world. But I kept my head down and learnt as much as I could, while only showing a slither of what I was capable; the teachers always got so excited when I showed my true potential, then it got harder in Slytherin for a while.

Lunch was even more painful, what with me at one end of the table and the rest of the Slytherin crowding up at the other. None wished to experience Malfoy's wrath, what with him being the true power in Slytherin at the moment. The politics made me want to scream, then curse them. It was all so pointless, yet they stuck to there dances and ignored the real power people had.

Yet more boring lessons, with content I had covered years ago. Necessity was the greatest motivator after all, and I needed those skills years ago. A first year Harry Potter with no prior knowledge of the world I had been trust into; into the snake pit itself. The transfiguration skills had been needed when my quills would go missing, then my bag, item after item. Never to be seen again.

The food at diner was as exemplary as ever, with the house elves cooking it wouldn't be any less. Even with new recipes coming with the other schools, they cooked it all like it was there signature dish. I smiled to myself, then looked down the table at where Malfoy was holding court. Krum was sat next to him, and his expression hadn't changed since he sat down; bored disinterest under a thin veneer of attentiveness. But Malfoy was too busy peacocking to notice how little Krum actually cared about what he was saying. It did wonders for my amusement, seeing the blonde Hair of House Malfoy make an utter fool of himself in front of the created Viktor Krum.

I ate as fast as I usually did, but this was one meal I couldn't miss out on; what with the champion selection. Instead, I pulled out the warding book and opened it, losing myself in the rules of what runes to place where while creating a complex rune array. It was a whole different set of principles form the Ancient Greek runes I used before, but some of the Nordic runes would integrate nicely with my bed scheme. Not even a seventh year could get through them as they are now, but one could always improve.

After all the plates had been cleared (which had taken an age, some people failed to realize meals are for eating, and not for talking about nonsenses with friends they would spend the rest of the evening with) Dumbledore called for attention from the hall. I smirked as the hall immediately went quiet, showing the awe all the students held Dumbledore in; even the Slytherins didn't dare talk while Dumbledore himself was asking for their attention.

He smiled as the anticipatory faces swung towards him. "The time has come!" He called out over us, while putting out the fires around the hall with an impressive display of wandless magic. Or a runic array in the hall that was configured to his magical core, but that was irrelevant. The gesture had done as the old wizard had intended, the hall was filled with gloom and the anticipation had built to almost uncomfortable heights. "To choose the Tri-wizard Champions of our three schools. The goblet is nearly ready."

As he said it, the goblet's flames burst blue, bathing the hall in ethereal light. I could feel the waves of magic coming off the goblet as it scanned the hall for the magic off its chose. A burnt piece of parchment was blown out of the top, slowing at the top of its ark, then landing neatly in Dumbledore's hands. A masterful piece of showmanship. "The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum." The fur covered seeker rose awkwardly from his chair, amidst the applause of the entire hall. He walked, as duck-footed and awkward as ever, to the door Dumbledore pointed out, with a small smirk adorning his face.

A few seconds after the door closed, I felt the goblet searching again. This time, I felt the tendril of magic hit the champion, drawing my eye to her. Fleur Delacour, the half Vela that had all the boys (and most of the girls) in a tizzy. My eyes flickered back to Dumbledore at the front of the hall, just as he caught the parchment. "And the champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour." Her schoolmates' reactions were vastly different from Durmstrang's, while they celebrated their champion selection, several of the other girls had burst into tears at Fleur's selection.

You could feel the Hogwarts kids' anticipation at the next selection, knowing this was the most relevant to them. The seventh years were leaning forward in excitement, each convinced they would be chosen. I smirked at the memory of Flint making a bet with his classmates that he would be picked; if he was picked as the best representation of Hogwarts, I was leaving. I felt the magic reach out and touch its champion. It was the Hufflepuff seeker, Cedric Diggory. Dumbledore's voice echoed through the hall a few moments later, confirming I was right.

I reopened my book, confident that the boring and, frankly, overdone ceremony was over. But my sense picked up a searching presence yet again, making me look up towards the goblet. It was still blue. That wasn't supposed to happen, was it? Whispers burst out around the hall at the goblet's strange behaviour. Dread filled me as the tendril of magic hit me, just as the goblet spat out a fourth piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it, his lines on his face even more pronounced from worry. He unfurled the paper and read out two words. "Harry Potter." I cursed under my breath, I never could have a normal Halloween.