Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Harry stood in front of Draco that morning, fussing over his appearance after his latest freak out, which had happened not even half an hour ago.

Harry had awoken on the couch with Draco still asleep opposite, and he'd gotten up to get ready for school. After a shower, he'd looked in the mirror. And seen nothing.

Completely shocked, Harry had woken up the werewolf.

"You look fine, Harry," Draco yawned, after waving his wand and casting the illusion spell, fixing his hair too. "Great even. Now shut up and let me wake up in peace."

And with that, Draco closed his eyes.

"Draco, we have to go to classes today," Harry said, frowning.

"But I don't want to. I don't feel like dealing with my classmates today," Draco replied, opening his eyes and standing up.

"Me neither," Harry replied. "Why don't we sit together in class then?"

"How? That's not exactly..." Draco paused, thinking for a word. "Acceptable."

"We'll go in late and sit at the only table there," Harry suggested. "We have defence against the dark arts anyways."

Draco nodded, and hurried up to his room to put on his uniform as Harry cleaned up the school books from the floor.

"I just remembered," Draco said, putting his defence against the dark arts book in his bag. "We have that batty new teacher."

"Who?"

"Mad-Eye Moody. He was an auror," Draco said. Seeing Harry's confused look, he decided to explain. "A dark wizard catcher. Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. Apparently he got paranoid and went mad though."

"Then why is he teaching if he's insane?" Harry muttered.

"I don't know. It should be a fairly interesting lesson though, compared to previous professors..." Draco trailed off.

"Professor Lupin was the best we've ever had-"

"Yes, I know. I think I can relate much more to him now," Draco rolled his eyes as they left the common room. "But Lockheart was useless and Quirrel was... You know who."

"You knew about that?" Harry asked, walking beside Draco.

"Yes," the werewolf replied with a nod. "I overheard Lucius talking about it with the other death eaters."

Harry mulled this over in his head. He would've expected Lucius to simply tell his son, while crowing about Harry's own potential death.

Finally, they came to the door of the classroom. Draco sucked in a deep breath, unsure if he really wanted to attend the class at all. Now that he thought about it, he'd rather much just go back to his room and curl up in bed. Yet it was not so, as Harry pushed open the door.

The first thing Harry was aware of were the nearly twenty heads that turned his way, and the sound of around twenty heartbeats all thudding. He could almost see everyone's blood flowing through their veins.

Draco however, had immediately noticed the man standing in front of the blackboard.

He wasn't that tall, Draco knew he was taller. He had many scars littering his face, and he dressed rather ruggedly. But the most noticeable thing was the mechanical eye placed over one of his eyed that whizzed around at random directions. It was unnerving to look at.

Draco simply sat down at the only empty desk, furthest back from the blackboard. It wasn't unlike Draco to simply waltz into class ten or twenty minutes later without an excuse. Harry however, spoke up.

"Sorry professor, I-uh, slept in," Harry said, watching cautiously as Mad-Eye gave him a look of wonder, and then a disgruntled glare. Harry took this as a sign to sit down.

After sitting next to Draco, Harry caught Hermione and Ron's gazes.

They were staring at him, confused and suspicious looks on their faces.

Harry sighed inwardly. They had every right to be suspicious. For one, he and Draco were sitting together and not trying to kill each other. He hadn't been in classes for a week, or at any meals for a week either.

Harry diverted his eyes away from their's, and turned his attention to the professor, very aware of the frost haired werewolf next to him.

"Now, as you may know," the professor continued with the lesson. "There are certain spells that only dark wizards use. The ministry doesn't want me to show you what these spells can do, but I disagree! Constant Viligance!" Mad-Eye snapped, writing it on the board.

"These curses are also known as the unforgivable curses. Can anyone tell me why? Granger!" He snapped. Hermione jumped visibly in her seat, wincing at the professors harsh tone.

"Because they're unforgivable," she murmured, clearly scared.

"Indeed! Can anyone tell me what the first one is?!"

Carefully, Ron raised his hand.

"Weasley!"

"My-My dad told me about one," Ron stuttered. "The-The imperius curse?"

"Ah. Your father would know about that one, it gave the ministry quite a bit of trouble a few years ago," Mad-Eye said, opening a box by the side of his desk. Out he pulled a small rodent. Draco could tell that it was a chipmunk.

The creature writhed frantically in Mad-Eye's grasp, trying to break free. Mad-Eye set it on the desk, and before it had the time to escape, he pointed his wand and growled "Imperio!"

What happened next was very unexpected. The chipmunk simply sat there, limp as a rag doll, but then leapt up and began to dance like a ballerina, following Mad-Eye's wand like a puppet on strings.

Most of the people began to laugh, except for Draco, who was seething in anger to see a fellow being suffering.

"The imperius curse controls the mind! I can make it do anything I want," Mad-Eye said, flicking his wand to make the chipmunk jump to a window ledge of an open window, teetering on the edge. "Jump out a window." He flicked his wand again, and the creature jumped to a small cauldron of water, diving in headfirst. It didn't come up for thirty seconds. "Drown itself..."

Finally, he lifted his wand, and the chipmunk was flung out of the cauldron, soaking wet and looking more like a drowned rat.

"Can anyone tell me the second curse?"

A hand was raised.

"Longbottom?"

Neville looked very afraid of the professor in front of him, more afraid than he was of Snape.

"The cruciatis curse," Neville mumbled.

"The torture curse," Mad-Eye said, an evil glint in his eye. "Crucio!"

Draco's eyes widened as the creature began writhing in the table, shrieking in agony. It's coal black eyes were wide and filled with pain.

Time seemed to slow in that moment as crack caught the creature's gaze.

Before anyone could react, Draco had leapt out of his seat and flicked his hand. Mad-Eye's wand soared out of his hand, and into Draco's as the blond stood, baring his teeth.

Everyone's head's turned, all looking wide-eyed at the Slytherin.

"You're not allowed to show them this, these curses are illegal!" Draco snarled, his voice vicious as he glared at the professor.

"Oh, but you'd know all about... Illegal curses, wouldn't you, Mr Malfoy?" Mad-Eye replied, grinning slightly.

Draco visibly paled at this. He regained his resolve quickly though, sending a glare that made everyone flinch as he threw Mad-Eye's wand to the floor. "Don't pretend you know who I am, Alastor," he sneered.

Mad-Eye simply picked up his wand, narrowing his eyes. "Detention for that."

"I'm not doing any detention," Draco spat, Mad-Eye ignoring him.

"Does anyone know the final curse?"

Draco watched as Mad-Eye looked around the classroom. "No?"

The chipmunk was lying on the desk, breathing heavily from all the spells it had just had to live through. "Shame. Avada Kedavra!" There was a large flash of green light, and the animal lay stiff as a board.

Draco felt like he couldn't breathe, he felt like he was choking. Ignoring everyone, he fled from the classroom, running down the hallway.

His breathing was irregular and quick as he skidded around a corner, nearly smashing into the wall. He took off down the corridor again, running with superhuman speed, his mind filled with blind panic and fear.

Running, running, running... His heart was thumping in his chest, blood rushing through his veins... And before he knew it, he was running on all fours. Wait. No.

Looking down, what Draco saw made him skid to a halt. Paws. Two frost white paws. Then again, he was much closer to the ground now. Draco let out what would've been a cry of fear, but it came out as a yelp.

Draco let out another bark of fright as someone hurtled around the corner, going so fast they were a mere blur.

Harry.

The vampire stopped, staring incredulously at the beast in front of him. Grey eyes wilder than a raging storm, fur whiter than snow. Their eyes locked, and Harry felt something he'd never felt before. Magic crackled in the air between them.

Draco, now beyond terrified and humiliated, turned and sped for the only place he felt like he knew.

******

The rain showed no signs of letting up as it thundered down on the great castle. All the students were inside, enjoying relief of the weekend and the warmth of their common rooms.

All except for one.

Harry James Potter stood on the edge of the astronomy tower by the balcony as he looked up at the murky grey sky wistfully. The drops of rain splattered against his face and blurred his glasses, making sight difficult.

He drummed on the marble rail of the balcony with his fingertips, his pitch black fingernails making faint tapping noises.

In the back of his mind Harry registered another's presence, and wasn't at all surprised to see a familiar blond figure stand next to him.

"What're you doing out here?" Draco's voice was calming.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I was wondering where you were. Not like I've got anyone else to talk to," Draco said with a sigh, remembering this morning.

Draco had decided to go to breakfast. Big mistake. Everyone he knew in his house had immediately turned on him the moment he sat down. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, even Blaise had ignored him.

Harry hummed in reply. It wasn't that he didn't have people to talk to, it's more that he didn't want to. Hermione's constant questions irked him, always having to ignore her or not answer. Where have you been Harry? Where's you're new dorm Harry? Why weren't you in class today Harry? It never ended. And then there was Ron, who was slowly starting to hate him, and Harry didn't even know why.

Yet he found himself not caring. They could have him if they wanted to, Harry wasn't going to stop them. He was slowly starting to resent his old friends, starting to hate them.

"You going to the feast tonight? They're picking the triwizard champions."

And of course, as if dealing with people from Hogwarts wasn't enough, two other schools were now housing their students here as well. All of the Durmstrang boys thought they were five times tougher than they actually were, and the Beauxbatons ladies resembled fairies more than the 'strong, independent women' they were made out to be. It was laughable in Harry's mind to see anyone from either school participate in a tournament that sometimes dealt with death.

"May as well," Harry replied. "It's not like I've got anything better to do."

******

"I would like to extend a warm welcome to every student in this hall, from Hogwarts, Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, for this is the moment many of you have been waiting for."

Harry drummed his fingers boredly on the wooden table, looking with disdain at his black fingernails. God, he thought. Everyone's going to think I'm gay.

"The choosing of the triwizard champions!" Dumbledore continued. The Goblet Of Fire was brought out by Filch, it's burning red flames leaping into the air.

Harry watched as the flames turned an emerald green, reminding him of the fire that crackled in his and Draco's living room. A small piece of paper flew from the green flames, spiralling down, Dumbledore catching it as it smoked slightly.

"The Durmstrang Champion is... Viktor Krum!"

Cheers and wild yells from the Durmstrang boys rang out across the hall, Harry watching the older boy walk up to the front table and be guided into a room off to the side. The cheers quietened as the fire turned green again, and spat out another slip of parchment.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is... Fleur DeLacourè!"

The excited screaming of the Beauxbatons girls was deafening as the beautiful girl got up and practically floated her way to the front of the hall and went through the door that Krum did previously.

"And the Hogwarts champion... Cedric Diggory!"

A tall, handsome boy stood up, Harry realising he was a Hufflepuff. Lovely, the person representing our school is the sparkly fairy princess boy that all the girls love.

"And that concludes the choosing of the champions! Congratulations to those chosen, and-" Dumbledore was cut off as the flames roared green once more. Everyone in the hall stared, even Harry perking up slightly at seeing this. What was going on?

Another piece of paper flew out of the fire, Dumbledore catching it with a frown.

"Harry Potter."

The name rang across the hall, whispers echoing after it. Harry's eyes flickered over to the Slytherin table, where Draco was looking at him with a look of confusion. Hermione and Ron were staring incredulously at him, as were most of the other students in the hall.

"Um, no thanks," Harry said, loud enough for Dumbledore to hear. Despite the previous whispers, a few snickers rang out.

"HARRY POTTER!" Dumbledore roared.

"Okay, okay! Fine!" Harry muttered haughtily. The pale boy stood up, walking past everyone who was glaring at him and past the teachers, all looking confused and concerned.

"What is 'e doing 'ere?" Fleur's accented voice cut through the air. Before Harry had the time to formulate a bad tempered reply, Dumbledore and the other teachers stormed in.

"HARRY! DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?!" The headmaster yelled, pinning Harry up against the wall behind him.

"Get off me!" The vampire snarled angrily, forcibly pushing the man away from him, seeing Dumbledore's chilled expression at his deathly cold skin. "No, I didn't!"

"Did you get someone else to put your name in the goblet for you?!"

"I think we both know I'm above that sort of thing, headmaster," Harry spat, anger still flooding him.

"What are you suggesting?!" A loud, angry voice cut through the air as Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang glared in his direction.

"If I may, Karkaroff," Mad-Eye Moody's gruff voice sounded. "I don't think it was Potter. Only a very powerful wizard would've been able to pass the age line. Hardly what a fourth year could do, surely."

"Well we can't allow him to enter!" McGonagall said, pushing through the teachers to glare angrily at Dumbledore.

"I'm afraid Mr Potter doesn't have a choice," Barty Crouch, who was in charge of the games stepped forward. "The rules state that whoever's name comes out of the goblet is who enters. Of course, there's never been a fourth champion before... But he cannot back out. He is, as of today, a Triwizard Champion."

Harry watched everyone in the room with a cold, calculating gaze, all the occupants not taking note of his lack of breathing.