Part seven. Deux Ex Machina.
Summary: Harry comes back from the future in his fourth year.
Harry Potter woke up and opened his eyes with a shout.
"Harry?" a sleepy young Neville Longbottom asked.
"It's nothing, Neville," Harry said. "Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."
"Okay," Neville mumbled.
Slowly, Harry got out of bed. He headed towards the bathroom. When he saw himself in the mirror, he grinned maniacally. "I did it! This time, I'll change ... everything. MUHAHA!"
Crouch Jr. clucked on his wooden leg towards the goblet of fire.
"Professor Moody" drew his wand and pointed it towards the voice. "Potter?" the disguised death eater asked.
Moody grunted and sheathed his wand. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."
"I'm guarding the Goblet of Fire."
Moody stared suspiciously at the Gryffindor. "Why?"
"Well you see... last night, I had this crazy idea. So I decided to practice "Constant Vigilance!" and make sure it won't happen."
"That's very good," Moody said approvingly. "So, what kind of crazy idea did you get?"
Harry looked down and blushed. "You're going to say it's stupid," he mumbled.
"Constant Vigilance is never stupid, boy. Now spit it out."
"Well, since I came to Hogwarts, I began to see a disturbing pattern."
"Every year I have to fight for my life. I'm pretty sure this year won't be any different."
"That's very good, Potter," Moody said approvingly. "So do you have an idea of what exactly will be endangering you?"
"Well," Harry smiled sheepishly, "at first I thought it was you. All of my DADA teachers tried to harm me. First year it was Quirrell who had Voldemort growing out the back of his head. Second year, that pompous moron, Lockhart tried to Obliviate me. Third year, Professor Lupin forgot to take his wolfsbane potion and almost ate me. At first I got worried that you were some kind of death eater in disguise or something. Fortunately, Hermione told me about you. Since you and headmaster Dumbledore are old friends and you've put so many death eaters in Azkaban, it's obvious I've got nothing to worry from you."
Moody nodded approvingly.
"So," Harry continued, "I begun to think. If it isn't you then it's something else. Besides you, there's one thing that changed from last year. It's the Tournament. Somehow, the tournament is out to get me."
"I see," Moody said doubtfully. "And how exactly is the tournament out to get you?"
"Well, for one. I just know that somehow, even if I didn't enter the tournament, I'm somehow going to end out participating in it."
"And why would that happen?"
"Who knows," Harry shrugged. "It could be because so many people die in it. Or... this is even better. It could be one of Voldemort's convoluted plans to somehow make sure I'll win the tournament. And when I do, the cup could be some kind of portkey that would send me to some dark gothic place ... like a cemetery. There, a stillborn Voldemort creature would use me in some kind of ritual that involves the blood of the enemy and bone of the father or something." Harry shrugged. "Okay, maybe that last part is kind of out there, but you get my meaning, right? Somehow, this goblet is trying to get me killed and I'm not going to let it."
Moody stared at Harry as if he grew a second head. "Boy, I think we should go see madam Pomfrey. You need to sleep and I don't think there's any other way besides a good sleeping potion."
"No," Harry said firmly. "I am staying here."
"Very well boy, If that's how you want it," Moody drew his wand and tried to stun Harry.
"Imperio," Harry hissed.
"Moody's eyes widened in horror for a fraction of a second; then they dulled under the forbidden spell."
"Accio paper with my name on it," Harry intoned. From Moody's pocket a piece of paper flew towards Harry. Harry pocketed the paper, and then he smiled at Moody and took from his pocket a box and enlarged it. "Here, professor ..."
"And now," Dumbledore said, "let us see who will be the three champions."
A piece of paper flew out of the goblet. "From Durmstrang, Igor... Karkarov!?"
Another paper flew out. "Hogwarts champion will be Severus Snape?"
Another paper. "And Albus Dumbledore."
"... Crab and Goyle..."
Eighty pieces of paper later. "...T-tom M-marvolo Riddle," Dumbledore stuttered.
Another piece of paper. "Cornelius Fudge."
Fifty pieces of paper later and fifty corrupt ministry officials...
Another piece of paper. "Draco Malfoy..."
"And Ron Weasley," Dumbledore said twenty-three pieces of paper later.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry slapped Ron on the back. "Congratulations, mate. You're a Champion." Ron Weasley fainted.
Dumbledore looked at the goblet that had finally stopped chucking out names. He conjured a glass of water and sighed in relief.
Unfortunately for Dumbledore's sore throat, the goblet spit another paper. "Well, this is awkward Dumbledore muttered. I have no idea how I'm even supposed to pronounce this name."
One hundred foreign names later, the goblet finally stopped.
"Dumbledore and the rest of the jury left to argue about the goblet's results."
Harry followed them.
"... As the jury," Harry heard Dumbledore say, "we can decide to select new champions."
Harry nodded at Moody, who drew his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore. "Crucio!"
Dumbledore easily dodged Moody's curse. Unfortunately for him he did it by moving straight into Harry's stunner. While everyone was still gaping, Moody stunned Snape and Harry stunned the Durmstrang champion. Then, Harry threw a glass vial at the half giant Beauxbatons headmistress. The vial broke and the woman fell unconscious. Moody took care of the other people present.
After the prisoner were secured, Harry woke Dumbledore.
"Harry, my boy ..."
"Imperio," Harry intoned.
Dumbledore's eyes dulled. "As I am both a champion and jury to the tournament, I must resign from my position as jury and cede this position to Harry Potter.
"I accept." Harry said.
One by one, the other members of the jury ceded their position to Harry.
Harry released the former jury from his control. "As the new judge, jury and executioner of the Tournament, I Harry James Potter approve a new rule book for the tournament." Grinning, Harry signed a small book and released his prisoners from the mind control spell.
"Harry ... what have you done?" Dumbledore asked.
"You ...you ... you!" Snape snarled. "You!" Snape screamed. "Why can't I talk?"
"Well," Harry smirked. "This goblet is really something. Since you entered the tournament..."
"I didn't enter the tournament," Snape snarled.
"Well, the goblet says differently." Anyway since you are a champion, you have to obey its rules."
"I don't have to do anything."
"You do have a point here, Snivelus. You have two choices. Obey the rules or lose your magic."
"Potter, I am going to kill you. Slowly."
"That's against the rules." Harry opened his rule book. "Here. Rule thirty five dash sixteen says you are not allowed to kill Harry Potter."
"Then torture," Snape snarled."
"Thirty five dash twenty-six," Harry said cheerfully.
"Smile while you can, brat, Sooner or later, I'll find a loophole."
"No can do," Harry snickered. "Rule one dash one."
Harry nodded. "Rule one says you are not allowed to read the rule book. And then there is rule six dash seven that says that you're not allowed to allow anyone to harm me."
"Harry my boy," Dumbledore said in a heartbroken voice. "Why are you doing this?"
"You'll see at the first trial," Harry said. "Now, I'm afraid I'll have to go."
"Welcome, gentle beings," Harry said to the three hundred champions. "The rules to the first trial are simple. This is going to be a battle royal. If you lose, you also lose your magic."
"You can't do this," said a foreign wizard that would have given Harry a pile of headaches twenty years in the future.
"Rule zero. Harry Potter can do whatever he pleases. Now as I was saying, to pass this trial, you need to defeat twenty champions..."
A day later, only seven champions remained.
"For your next trial, you'll need to bring with you any objects of power, artifacts and if you have some objects like a horcrux or other things that give you a certain measure of immortality, bring them with you."
Harry turned his back to leave, but stopped. "Oh I almost forgot... bring your libraries, gold, gems and jewelry with you."
The exhausted champions could not even muster the strength to question this strange new order.
"Also," Harry said, "Everyone please have a detailed inventory of whatever you bring."
"Your next trial is this," Harry said. "I placed every nasty artifact you brought twenty miles in that direction. You have to collect as many artifacts as you can and come here in the next hour. The three people with the most collected artifacts pass. The rest will lose their magic."
Twenty miles north.
Harry apparated above a hill. He stared downhill at the pile of artifacts. Drawing his wand, he activated the runes to the anti-apparition wards that surrounded the area.
When the champions arrived, Harry waited for the champions to approach the artifacts. Then, he activated a control rune and disappeared.
An hour later, Harry took his eyes from the glow of fiend-fire. "I guess this means there won't be a third task."
Shrugging, Harry apparated toward his new home. He had some spoils to count.
Author's Note: Just a insane idea I decided to write. The goblet is just too Uber. One thing I thought a while ago was that if the goblet could really impose an oath, then why didn't anyone use it to force his enemies to participate. If you are in charge of the jury, you can select any trial you want ... even if it's something like ... kill a hundred dragons.
In canon ... Harry had to compete because of a magical contract. Since no one ever said that Harry could just give up, then we have two possibilities: he really couldn't give up or they didn't want Harry to give up. The first possibility offers a huge potential for abuse so I took it.
Thank you for reading and reviewing.
Published: October 3, 2009.