'HP: A Blatant Refusal'

A/N: Don't own squat, save the plot.

Got this idea. It went nuts. Grammar may be skewed at a few points.

The tent opened for the so called Fourth Champion. Boos permeated the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs as Harry Potter stared at the Horntail. To be within the arena, he took three steps forward and simply stared at the beast.

To the surprise of everyone, the first spell Potter did was to conjure a cushy looking chair. Sitting, the Boy-Who-Lived pulled the Quibbler from his robes and started reading it upside down, apparently completely unconcerned about what was going on around him.

One of the Ravenclaws, a young blond witch wearing rather odd sunshades, seemed rather pleased with his choice of reading material, as well as the fact that he seemed to know the secret to reading the charmed periodical correctly. Her dreamy smile showed her pleasure over the matter.

The first person to speak up was Malfoy, of course. "Look everyone! Scarhead's Scared!"

Setting the periodical on his lap, Harry's left brow went up. Pulling his wand again, he cast a sonorus on himself. "Do you see me cowering, Ferret? Look at that thing. It's a fucking Dragon, for Merlin's sake. You want the egg so badly, you go get it. I'm fine right here, thanks. Dumbledore said I had to participate in order to flush out whomever put my name in that thrice damned goblet. So, here I sit: Bait."

"You must compete, Harry," Dumbledore spoke up with his own sonorus charm.

Both brows up, he snorted. "Or what, Albus?"

"You could lose your magic!"

His head tilted with a perfect sneer. "You won't even let me love whom I want. Why the fuck should I listen to you, you sadistic bastard?"

Seeing the Headmaster pale, he looked at the crowd. "Oh, none of you knew he could be so anti-muggleborn, did you?" Seeking and finding his bushy haired friend in the stands, he elaborated. "Hermione, I've been your first kiss Four Times. The paintings told on us, and longbeard back there came running with obliviation curses flying. Apparently, it was for the greater good, or some such rot."

"Then again, that man uses memory charms more often than Gilderoy Lockhart. Thirteen times it was used in the ten years he sentenced me to live with abusive, magic hating muggles. Here's a hint for you, Albus. I'm immune to that fucking curse."

"Of course, as a five year old boy who was just patched back together from being nearly beat to death by my Uncle Vernon, I had no clue as to what was happening. Just a simple I'm sorry my boy, but you must stay here. Obliviate. He then obliviated my hated muggle relatives so they forgot that they nearly killed me, and the cycle continued.

"Anyway, back to the Ferret. Draco, I'm about to annihilate whatever political pull you might have had in the snake pit. How many of you remember me being a Sorting Block my first day here? What was it, eight minutes? Nine? The reason was really simple. I was arguing with the damn hat.

"See, I met this blond ponce at Madam Malkins, who completely disgusted me with his racism. He then accosted me on the train, then later right before we were led into the Great Hall. Honestly man, how the hell did you NOT get sorted a Gryffindor? You're brash, leap before you look, insult anyone and everyone, and don't have the common sense to stop and think about what you're doing. You have absolutely zero cunning or guile. You're a disgrace to the Noble House of Slytherin.

"You know, if you charm your hair ginger, it would be the easiest way to change a Ferret into a Weasel. You two are so much alike I'm surprised you weren't twins separated at birth.

"In short, had I not met the blond ponce, I would've let the sorting hat put me in Slytherin. How about that, eh? You deprived the Green Quidditch Team one heck of a seeker, if I do say so myself. Congrats.

"According to the Hat, I would've done well as a snake. I mean, why wouldn't I? It wasn't like I was led by the nose to believe that all Slytherins are evil Witches and Wizards. Right, Ron? How many times did your mother take your family to school, anyway? Walking in on the muggle side, and there's your mum complaining loudly about muggles being everywhere. Such logic, that.

"Don't look at me like that, Albus. It's quite unbecoming of a man of your supposed stature to look like a vampire. Why don't we go down memory lane, shall we? The unoblivated one of course. You know, doing what's right instead of what's easy. Took that platitude you gave to heart, so good on you. Too bad it's about to bite your wrinkled arse.

"1981, November 1st, before Sirius Black went after Peter Pettigrew for betraying my parents to the insane Dark Wizard, and before Lord and Lady Longbottom were sent to the permanent spell damage ward of St. Mungos … Sorry, Nev … King Longbeard left me on a muggle doorstop just before midnight in the beginnings of winter.

"Petunia and Vernon Dursley, #4 Privit Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. I like to think of the place as Durzkaban. If anyone in Law Enforcement is listening to me rabbiting on, do me a favour and check out that address. In the cupboard under the stairs is a very large amount of dried blood… all of it mine. As to why it's there, that was my so called bedroom for ten years.

"I have to really wonder how you pulled that off. Then again, you were a witness to my parents' will, which you then sealed. The first person I was to go to was my magically bonded Godfather. They did it old school too, by swearing the proper oaths and signing contracts in blood. As it stands, I'm effectively Sirius Black's son. Anyway, I was supposed to go to him. If he was unavailable, I was to go to my equally magically bonded Godmother, Alice Longbottom.

"Interesting how both of my godparents were placed in locations where they would be completely unable to care for me, isn't it? At any rate, some lady named Amelia Bones was the next in line, since my Uncle was disqualified for being a Werewolf. My other Uncle, one Peter Patrick Pettigrew was left with thirty sickles and a death curse in the will.

"For those that don't know, thirty sickles and death curse is a phrase used in magical wills to name the person or persons that betrayed them to their deaths. Since Pettigrew was their secret keeper, the clause stood ready to avenge them.

"This last one will raise one hell of a ruckus, and I can see the old man becoming white as a ghost now. The last person I should've gone to, had everyone else been unavailable, was one Minerva Louisa McGonnagal. Go get'em, Aunt Minnie. Oh, look! And there she goes. Wicked!

"At the very bottom of that list was a statement that I was never to go to my mother's sister, unless she divorced Vernon Dursley. Vernon, as I told you earlier, was the muggle that nearly killed me thirteen times before my first year at Hogwarts.

"If Poppy Pomphrey wasn't under a compulsion web, she would be able to tell anyone and everyone that I have had more bones broken than the human body actually has; would tell you that my liver, spleen and left kidney were regrown; would tell you that my supposed bad eyesight was due to being hit on the back of the head with a cast iron frying pot on a daily basis; would tell you that my magical core WAS, and the emphasis is on the word Was, under three different bindings by the headmaster; would tell you that there was a permanent confundus ward placed on my mind... which immediately failed since I'm immune to mind magics; would tell you that I was not a so called rear echelon virgin before my first year at Hogwarts... Vernon again; would tell you that she nearly killed herself at seeing her own handiwork in healing me and HAD NOT REPORTED IT TO CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES!

"Excellent work, Headbastard. May you rot in hell for all eternity.

"For those that are wondering just how I circumvented the Chief Warlock in receiving the Potter Wills, here's a secret for everyone to muddle over: The Goblin Nation doesn't give two shits what the Wizengamot decrees, unless it impacts their nation. Wills of Inheritance can be left with The Nation to safeguard them from unscrupulous wizards, like the Headbastard that's getting pummelled over there. It's in the treaty by-laws. James and Lily Potter did NOT trust Albert Beverly Dumbledore. I find it hysterical that you changed your name. Is he even listening? Guess Minnie has him preoccupied.

"At any rate, there's a bit of a loophole in Inheritance Clauses. Full Inheritance occurs when one is declared a legal adult. My forced entrance into the adult competition of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was that declaration. The Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards all agreed that I was OF AGE to compete in this farce.

"That said," he held up his right hand and allowed his Head Ring to become visible, "I was able to claim my Lordship. Congratulations Headbastard! In your attempt to keep me under your withered thumb, you freed me instead! Thank you ever so much! My first act was to void and burn the illegal marriage contract you signed with Molly Weasley for Ginevra's hand in marriage. And, just so there aren't any sort of misunderstandings in THAT matter…

"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY: I, LORD HADRIAN JAMES POTTER THE FOURTH, DO HEREBY EVOKE YOUR LIFE DEBT TO ME! YOUR PAYMENT TO THE MOST ANCIENT AND MOST NOBLE HOUSE OF POTTER IS AS FOLLOWS: YOU SHALL NEVER BECOME MY WIFE! SO I SAY, SO I VOW, SO MOTE IT BE!

There was a loud crashing gong, and Ginny collapsed in tears. "Do yourself a favour and ask Dean out. He's a decent enough bloke."

Harry then jumped as Hermione had stepped up behind him without him noticing and placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to look at him from the side. "OH! Hello 'Mione. Welcome to This Is My Life. Any comments?"

"I'm with you," she said quietly, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Not being sonorused, no one else heard her. "What happened to your scar?"

"Oh yeah, the Goblins took care of my scar. Apparently, there was a residual soul fragment from the Dark Bastard embedded in it. Don't worry. They got rid of it, which is why my forehead's clear. Hey, 'Mione, guess what?"

"What?"

"The Goblins taught me a charm."

"Which one?"

"The Restivation Charm, which in layman's terms could also be called 'The Anti-Obliviation Charm'. Wanna see it work?" At her nod, he cast it on her forehead. "Revisto Oblivus."

Everyone watched her gasp and shudder, then stand straight with a glare first towards the Headmaster, then towards the Gryffindors. Whipping her own wand out, she pointed it at her throat. "Sonorous! RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU MOLEST ME WHILE I WAS PETRIFIED IN THE INFIRMARY! NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN YOU SICK, TWISTED, PEVERTED, PUREBLOOD BIGOTED BASTARD!"

Harry stood and flicked his wand towards her lower stomach, which glowed white. Nodding he turned towards the stands again. "Be grateful you didn't do more, Weasel. Had you actually raped her, you'd be dead where you sit. As it stands, I think the Gryffs may want to deal with you instead."

"He didn't get that far, sweetie. I promise."

"Remember what I asked you at the end of last year, 'Mione?"

"Yes, and I still do."

Harry pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and knelt in front of her. Opening it, there were gasps around the stands as the emerald glinted in the sunlight. It was only outshone by Hermione's smile as he put it on her left ring finger.

"Wanna blow this place, Mione? There's a magical school half way around the planet that's already accepted us. And, they teach regular subjects too, so we can attend University if we want right after we graduate. I already submitted our resignations to the Deputy's Office. Your mum and dad really don't want you being here, love."

"Hell Yes! This place is a ZOO! Be nice to not have to face being nearly murdered every year."

"Tell me about it. DOBBY!"

There was a loud pop. "Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir!" the elf spouted before saluting in his rather military looking camouflage uniform of so many colours it was difficult to look at.

"Harry…"

"It's what he wanted, love. He's on a fully paid ICW Contract, too, and can terminate it whenever he wants. Got all our stuff, little mate?"

"Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has everything! Grangeys, Paddyfeet and Moons is waiting for youse and your My Knee."

"Let's get the hell out of here, then. Fuck Magical Britain."

"Language, love."

Dobby reached forward and took Harry and Hermione's hands, then popped them away.

Pandemonium reigned when they vanished from the school, because Mad Eye Moody screamed bloody murder as his magical core was drained. When it was over, he had changed into Barty Crouch Junior, much to the confusion of everyone.

"Looks like we found who tried to do Harry in" Fred deadpanned, before George spoke up "And, oh look! It's the Defence Professor again."

"I told you!" Susan Bones screamed at her fellow badgers. "But no! None of you believed me or him! That was MY BROTHER!" She started crying, and a few friends tried to console her. Incensed, she shook them off with a shout of, "Don't touch me!" and ran for the castle.