A pillar of flames burst to life, whirling in heatless blue. It only lasted a few moments before fading away, revealing…

  Someone smashing to the floor, a large cleaver in their hands. They appeared to be dressed in finely crafted leathers that had seen better days, smudged with dirt and other detritus. Long dark hair had been pulled back into a short, spikey topknot.

  The young man stabbed the cleaver into the floor and used it to brace themselves as they stood. The blade was much bigger than Albus had originally suspected on first glance, easily several feet long. It was only the resemblance to a cleaver that had made the Headmaster suspect it to be the cooking utensil, though now that he was getting a better glance at the blade he wasn’t sure why he had thought it to be a simple cooking implement.

  Bright green eyes scanned the room before turning to settle on Dumbledore, who was the closest person to the young man who had appeared in fire. Before the Headmaster could introduce himself, the young man hefted the cleaver blade onto his shoulder with one hand and pointed with the other.

  “You! Old man! Where am I and how did I get here?”

  Albus glanced at the young man’s forehead for a moment. Finding the lightning bolt scar had him offering the young man a grandfatherly smile. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry, my boy. It is so good to see you again. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this fine school.”

  The young man, who didn’t deny being Harry, grunted. “A school huh? That’s quite different from the forest I was just in chasing down some of the beasts for the local guild. Still doesn’t explain how I got here.”

  Dumbledore reached up to stroke his beard while giving Harry a closer inspection. The leathers appeared to be stained with both dirt and dried blood, while the cleaver had some not quite dried blood. Had Harry really been chasing down and chopping beasts in the wild? What kind of life had the poor boy been forced into? This is what happened when people didn’t follow his plan for the Greater Good.

  “It would appear that you were summoned here by yonder Goblet of Fire. It has chosen you as one of the champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

  Harry blinked at the Headmaster for a moment before scoffing. “I’ve seen magic do some crazy things over the years. Even done some of those crazy things myself. Never heard it could snatch people out of the forests though. Definitely never heard of no Tri-Wizard Tournament either. Never even heard of Wizards before either, so not sure what a Tournament for Wizards would have to do with me.”

  Hagrid stepped up to the stand next to the Headmaster. “But you’re a Wizard, Harry!”

  The leather clad young man leaned back to take in Hagrid’s form and appeared to tighten his grip on the cleaver for a moment before relaxing. “First I’ve heard of it. I may have a few tricks that the others working for the guilds had yet to replicate, but I’m just a chef. I hunt beasts on the side either for the guild or myself when I need more ingredients. So, unless this is a cooking competition, I’ll have to give it a pass and get back to work. Those beasts aint gonna catch themselves. If you could just send me back to the forest now, that would be great.”

  Albus stared at Harry for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, my boy. For you see, when the Goblet chose you for the tournament, it bound you to a magical contract, one that forces your participation. Should you fail to uphold your part of the contract, your magic is forfeit.”

  Knuckles tightened on the handle of the cleaver until they audibly cracked. “Excuse me, sir, did you say you would be forcing me to participate in your little contest?”

  The Headmaster shook his head. “Of course not. I would never force anyone to do anything against their own free will. However, the Goblet of Fire does not follow the same morality as us mortals. It is an uncaring construct and thus cares not for our desires in the matter. It merely functions as the arbitrator and facilitator of the contract. One which it has bound you too, along with the three other original champions.”

  By this time the chatter in the Great Hall had risen enough that it was starting to get difficult having a conversation without raising one’s voice. Dumbledore took a look around the Hall, noting all the gawking students, as well as the curious looks on the remainder of the faculty. Minerva especially looked to be barely retaining her seat. Mostly likely due to the revelation of Harry’s identity.

  “My boy, why don’t we move our conversation to my office. Perhaps there we can figure out what’s going on and how you came to be where you were. You’ve been gone an awfully long time.”

  Harry seemed to consider things for a moment before nodding. Swinging the cleaver off his shoulder, he held it out sideways in front of himself. His other hand travelled along its length, caressing the blade with his fingertips. There was a feeling of pressure and heat in the air before the blade seemed to hiss and sizzle as the blood boiled away from the blade, leaving the metal pristine. A moment later and the cleaver was secured at his side and those hands flowed over his leathers, cleaning them in much the same manner. When he was done, he motioned the Headmaster to lead the way.

  ***

  “That’s quite the story you’re spinning, old man. Not sure I believe it.”

  The Headmaster blinked at Harry for a moment before offering the young man his best disappointed look. “What is it that you do not believe? The fact that you are here now should be enough to prove the power of the Goblet.”

  Harry waved away the statement. “I don’t really care about your Goblet. That it summoned me is already enough for me to be distrustful of the thing, and you, for that matter, for giving in to it so easily. Where I come from we would have been doing an investigation into a matter of kidnapping. That you seem to just accept tells me something about what type of person you are.”

  There was a sharp gasp from Minerva that Albus ignored, instead choosing to focus on Harry. “It truly saddens me to hear that, my boy…” Before he could continue, Harry cut him off.

  “I’m not your boy, old man. I don’t know you, or anyone else here. So stop trying to pretend we’re some kind of friend. If you’re not going to help me figure out how I got here, then I’d like to be on my way. Point me towards whatever serves as an inn and I’ll get a room for the night. I assume you people take gold.”

  There was a quiet “why I never” from the Deputy Headmistress though Dumbledore just sighed. “I’m afraid things aren’t quite so simple. I’ve already explained that you’ve been missing for years. I would be remiss in my duties as both Headmaster and a friend to your parents were I to just shoo you out into the dark. At the very least, allow Hogwarts to house you for the night. I’m sure after a good night’s sleep things will feel much better and we can all sit down and discuss what we shall do going forward.”

  Harry narrowed his eyes at the Headmaster for a moment before nodding slowly. “Alright, I’ll give you your one night. Hopefully by morning you’ll have some kind of better story than the dragon shit you just tried to feed me.”

  Suddenly standing, he strode from the room towards the door, calling over his shoulder, “Someone going to show me to my room or what?”

  Filius was quick to dash over before Minerva could get over her indignation.

  ***

  Harry was content to keep his thoughts to himself while he was escorted to his room. The little man they’d sent to show him the way seemed pleasant enough, but this should rightfully be considered hostile territory. He had been brought to this place against his will and then that Headmaster had made some speech about how he was compelled to compete in some tournament.

  While Harry had been part of numerous tournaments over the year for a variety of topics, they were all ones that he had chosen. Even the thought of being forced into a competition left him feeling like one of the monsters they brought in for arena combat. That he never been his scene before and he would be damned before he allowed himself to be treated like prey.

  Once settled into his room, Harry started going over his options. He had plenty of weapons, from the cleaver to the numerous daggers he kept on his person. There were some trap making materials as well. However, there was one more thing he needed to secure before he would feel comfortable enough to retire for the night.

  The escort, who said his name is Filius, had told Harry to ask out loud for a House Elf, whatever that was. He definitely was not expecting the even shorter person to pop into the room.

  “You is calling for a House Elf?”

  Harry looked over the little guy before slowly nodding. “I was hoping to get some dinner. Could you show me to the kitchens?”

  The House Elf nodded rapidly. “I can be making you dinner, good sir. Just be waiting a moment and I’ll bring food.”

  Harry reached out a hand to take the little guy’s shoulder. “Hold up now. I just want you to show me the kitchens. I’ll make my own food.”

  Never knew eyes could go that wide. “Oh no, sir! I couldn’t be having you cook your own food! Wouldn’t be proper!”

  Harry frowned. “Sorry little guy. Don’t mean to be stepping on your toes if cooking is your job here. It’s just… I’m a chef, you see. Cooking is how I relax.” He ran a hand over the top of his hair for a moment. “Oka, how bout this. You can help me cook. That way you’re still cooking, and I get to do what I need to deal with the stress of having been brought here. We can even share recipes. How does that sound?” He held his hand out for a shake.

  The House Elf looked at Harry’s hand with those wide eyes seeming to tear up. However, after just a moment the short guy agreed and shook hands. All too soon they were in the kitchens, having been let in by a portrait, of all things. Not that he hadn’t seen strange things in his line of work, but what would be the purpose of hiding a kitchen? It’s a kitchen! It’s supposed to be easy to find so people can work and relax.

  Shaking away those thoughts, he rolled up his sleeves, pulled out his blades and set them to flying, then followed the wide eyed House Elf deeper into the kitchen. It was time for some culinary relaxation.

  ***

  Harry woke to a light knock at the door. Reaching under his pillow for a dagger, he called out to find out who it was. When the voice of his escort from last night came through he relaxed slightly. It was harder gathering his thoughts than he anticipated. The bed was much too soft for someone who was used to camping most of the time.

  Shaking off the cobwebs, he made his way to the lavish wash room, splashed some cold water onto his face, slapped his cheeks a couple of times, then let out a loud breath. Feeling more awake, he made his way to the door, daggers returning to their various places about his person. The cleaver he left near the bed, sitting at the nearby desk as Filius entered the room.

  “Good morning, Mr. Potter. You look in much better spirits than when I left you last night.”

  Harry offered the man a slight nod. “Aye. Good food and a night’s rest will settle most of your ills, lest you have something else of grave importance.” A frown appeared as he continued. “I hope that today does not prove of grave importance. The old man shared some news that I find troubling and hope that we can work together to figure out what’s really going on. The idea of being forced into a competition sits ill with me.”

  Filius nodded. “I can understand your concern, Mr. Potter. I share your fears. Something like being summoned by the Goblet can only have ill portents. No matter though. I’m sure that the Headmaster will get things squared away. Before that though, I was wondering if you would indulge me in a couple questions.”

  The Displaced Potter thought it over for a moment. The little man had proven amicable during their brief sojourn and this morning. He nodded.

  “Excellent! I couldn't quite help noticing your rather large blade. What would be the purpose of such a weapon?”

  Harry glanced over at his cleaver, a faint smile on his lips. “That’s my cleaver. It’s served me well over the years. I’m primarily a chef back home, though at times I’ve had to hunt for my own ingredients. Not all of those ingredients come peacefully.”

  “How extraordinary! I do hope we have some time later to discuss some of your hunts. I was a professional duelist so all of my fighting experience is against humans or goblins. I would love to hear about some of the types of creatures you ended up hunting. Something tells me they aren’t just the usual deer and such.”

  The smile grew slightly brighter. “Aye, you could say that. I look forward to it.” He stuck out his hand. “Harry Potter, the Iron Chef. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Filius took the hand and pumped it quickly. “Filius Flitwick, Professor of Charms for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

  With that, the two headed down for some breakfast in The Great Hall.

  ***

  Albus rarely took the time to have breakfast in the Great Hall. He preferred to sleep in when he could. Sometimes he felt every one of his 150+ years. However, with the arrival of the lost Potter Heir, he knew he had to be down there. No doubt Filius had invited the young man to dine and the Headmaster wanted to see how Harry took to interacting with his peers. No doubt his time away from the wizarding world left him longing for the feel of those with magic. Hopefully that would be another incentive to get Harry to toe the line.

  Settling into his chair, he swept his gaze over the Great Hall. He caught sight of Harry sitting with the Ravenclaws. While he would have preferred that the young man had been led to the Gryphondor table, it was understandable that Filius introduced Harry to his own house first.

  What also caught Dumbledore’s attention was that the students appeared to be giving their meals a lot more attention than usual. Glancing down at his plate, he noticed it wasn’t quite the usual English Breakfast to which he had become accustomed to. The changes weren’t overt, nothing singular sticking out. Mostly, it appeared to be a change in the way the food had been prepared and presented.

  For a brief moment he wondered what had inspired the House Elves to change things up, then dismissed it as unimportant and returned to watching Harry interact with the Ravenclaws around him, along with those students from Beauxbatons that shared the table. It appeared that Harry was much more comfortable than he had been last night.

  The Headmaster smiled. It would appear that Harry would fit in well indeed. Though perhaps some of the other houses should send their representatives to meet with the fourth champion. After all, the more strings tied to Harry, the more likely he was to follow the plan.

  ***

  While the meal was pleasant enough, and the conversation pleasant enough, Harry didn’t really have enough in common with these youngsters. They spoke of magic as if it was a commonplace thing. Back home he had been the exception to the rule, a natural magic user, where others needed years of study. Not to mention the way he made use of his gift. These people seemed so blase about it, taking their magic for granted.

  Hogwarts was apparently a place that treated magic like it was a tool, rather than a gift. No different than one of his knives or a mixing spoon. Just another tool to get the job done. They at least appeared to acknowledge that their magic was special and that it set them apart from others. From the conversation he had, it appeared that everyone in the school had been born with the gift. Some from long lines of magic users, while others were brand new to the gift.

  Harry allowed the information to flow over him, storing it away for later analysis. It was no different than studying a creature for the hunt, or learning new ingredients for a recipe. Everything could be broken down into parts and studied independently before bringing them all together into a beautiful whole.

  In addition to the discourse on magic, he engaged those around him about the local cuisine. The breakfast was just as hearty as he was used to, though with some differences. Toast was familiar, though not the usual hard bread he took with him on the hunt. Eggs and bacon were also usual. The fruits were slightly different, though strangely familiar as well. The beans were similar while different at the same time, more sweet and savory than the ones he was used to. Maybe something like one of the competitions instead of trail food. Same with the sausage. The mushrooms he didn’t recognize but they were still tasty. He longed to get them back into the kitchen. All the new foods gave him a ton of ideas he wanted to test out.

  Even better, from his perspective, was that there were visitors from abroad that had their own interpretations of the food on display. He was able to get both sides of the story, as it were, when it came to the food, along with the usual variations based on taste. The conversation with one particular young lady, Fleur, really spoke to how she thought the meal was too heavy, compared to a light breakfast from a place called France. Harry commented on how the heavier food was good while camping when you weren’t sure if you were going to have access to another meal in a timely manner before dinner, then they moved on to comparing fanciful dishes. He was rather enjoying the conversation before Filius made his presence known, asking Harry to accompany him to the Headmaster’s office once again.

  Harry frowned, then made arrangements to meet up with the young lady for more discussions at the next meal, or if they had a chance outside that. He found out that the House Elves were happy to pass along messages. It was a much happier Harry that followed Filius to the Headmaster’s office.

  ***

  “So what you’re telling me is that you have no intention of looking into my kidnapping, that I’m to be a prisoner in your school, and that I’m being forced into a deadly tournament on pain of death.”

  Albus offered his most disappointed frown to Harry, though the boy seemed to ignore it. “I’m saying that the Goblet is a complicated artifact that we are forbidden to study and that as Headmaster, I do not have the time or resources to look into your summoning. All of those things are related. I have graciously offered to house and feed you during the tournament. After all, your dear parents wanted you to attend.”

  Harry frowned before shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. Someone clearly means me harm and if you’re not going to look into it, I’ll find someone who will.” He made to get out of his seat, only to grunt as Dumbledore’s sticking charm managed to keep him in place.

  “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to involve outsiders on Hogwarts grounds, my boy.”

  Green eyes narrowed. “Ah. So it’s a matter of won’t rather than can’t. Good to know. I won’t ask for your help again in the future. Now if you’d let me up, I’ll head back to my room.”

  The Headmaster shook his head. “There is one more thing. You need to be sorted into one of the houses so that we can get you a class schedule.”

  Harry blinked for a moment before laughing. “You want me to attend school? Hah. I’m too old to go back to school, not to mention I already have a profession, so what more would I have to learn? Not to mention I have no intention of paying for something you’re forcing onto me.”

  Albus shook his head. “Your parents took care of your tuition. They made sure that you would be taken care of should something happen to them.”

  “So, they what? Paid for the schooling already? Good for them. I still don’t need it. I won’t take charity and I still don’t need the education. I already have a profession I enjoy that supports me quite comfortably.” Harry paused for a moment before nodding. “Use that money to pay for some underprivileged waif to go to school here. I’ll pay my own way. Let me work in the kitchen with the House Elves.”

  Dumbledore barely kept himself from recoiling. A scion of a noble house working like a House Elf, where others could see him? That would bring ridicule and scorn down on the Hogwarts. “I’m afraid that the House Elves already take care of all the school’s needs. If you really feel you must pay your own way, I will inquire at Hogsmeade among the establishments there if they need a cook.”

  “Chef.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “I’m not a cook. I’m a chef. I earned my title, the Iron Chef, through sweat and blood. I am no mere cook.”

  The Headmaster slowly nodded. “Chef then. I shall inquire and let you know. In the meantime, think about what you could learn regarding magic. You might as well take advantage of what is being offered to you.”

  The young man merely nodded. Dumbledore suppressed a sigh and waved a hand towards the chair, releasing the sticking charm. As Harry left the office, the Headmaster finally sighed. This was not how he imagined things going.

  ***

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  Knives and ingredients flashed through the air, while several pans simmered on a number of burners. Reactions from the audience varied, mostly depending if the individual was rendered silent or more verbose in their cheering.

  The kitchen in the Three Broomsticks has been opened up and expanded in the weeks since Harry had begun cooking there. At first Rosmerta had been reluctant to hire someone else to cook her food. That was, until she had a taste of Harry’s cooking. After that she was willing to do whatever it took to keep him feeding her… er, cooking for her patrons. Yes, all for the customers. Eventually, she found herself spending more time watching him cook through the door than walking around and talking to her customers like she usually did.

  At that point, she made the decision to open the kitchen to the public. It quickly became a huge draw, bringing large numbers of students and people from the village, even some from further away once word of the quality of the food and presentation made its way around. The inn was even coming to rival some of the better known Magical restaurants from London, something that made her proud and embarrassed at the same time, since she had less to do with it than Harry.

  With the increase in customers, Rosmerta had been forced to hire more servers and even another bartender. Harry never made the drinks, keeping himself to the kitchen. Not that she minded. One of the most popular things on the menu was “Surprise Me.” The young man never failed to delight, either in the manner of cooking or the taste of his food.

  Now if only she could convince him to take the room in the Inn so she could keep him around longer.

  ***

  Harry stalked through the Forbidden Forest, tracking the movements of a deer. It had been too long since he had last been on a hunt and he didn’t want his skills to suffer. Clad in just his leathers, cleaver at his side, and a pair of daggers in his hands, he moved silently through the underbrush and trees.

  Just as he was getting near his prey, the deer perked up, facing towards the deeper, darker regions of the Forest. It was only a moment later that Harry was able to sense the presence of another predator moving through the trees.

  Fingers tightening on the daggers, he decided that he had a new target. Settling into ambush, he waited.

  Just as the deer decided it was time to escape, a massive spider leaped from the darkness, legs and mandibles spread wide. Before the spider could land on the deer, one of Harry’s daggers smashed into an eye, sending the beasts screaming to the ground.

  Cleaver in hand, Harry darted after his new scrambling prey, lopping off a leg before it could recover. Several more daggers darted in from the shadows, stabbing deep into the carapace even as he slashed through another leg.

  Finally, the spider was able to recoil and spin on Harry, trying to leap with its remaining legs. Harry brought up the cleaver, skewering the beast. Even as it slid down the blade, those legs and mandibles reached for his tender flesh. Daggers flashed in to slice off the offending appendages.

  Once the spider finished twitching, Harry went about harvesting the remains. He had heard about several recipes that used spider parts back home and he was eager to see if the local equivalent was a worthwhile substitute.

  ***

  The day of the First Task dawned and Harry still had no notion of what was involved. There was a sense of anticipation in the air though. He knew that it would involve an arena of sorts, as the construction had been obvious. There were even stands for an audience. No matter, he was no stranger to performing for the masses. He’d done so a number of times both before and after earning his title of the Iron Chef. Those were some of his fondest memories. He doubted this would be something so simple though.

  Those doubts were proven correct as it was revealed that they would be facing dragons. His eyes narrowed as he noticed that two of the other champions did not appear surprised. Cedric was startled at first, before he appeared to gather his resolve.

  At least they weren’t being forced to kill the dragon, only retrieve a golden egg from the nest. Did that mean the other eggs were up for grabs as well.

  Why did they give him such strange looks when he asked what dragon eggs tasted like?

  ***

  Fleur had apologized to him for not warning him about the dragons. Her Headmistress had forbidden her from sharing information with her competitors, even if they were friends. Harry had just smiled and nodded, saying he understood. He wasn’t really there for the competition and had no interest in winning.

  That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put on a good show though! The more business he could drum up for the Three Broomsticks, the more money he made for himself, the more independent he was from the Headmaster. Not to mention hopefully getting access to better ingredients. There were several that he had heard about and wanted to give a try. Additionally, there were some books that mentioned spells to help with cooking that he wanted to get his hands on.

  Stepping into the arena, he got his first look at what the locals called a dragon. Reptilian, wings and claws, spiked tail, and nasty disposition. Seemed like a dragon to him. Some of his friends would have had a grand old time fighting the dragon. Harry just wanted to put on a good show.

  Waving his hands towards the stands, he summoned a bandolier of daggers that he had made for hunting, as compared to his usual band of daggers. These ones were heavier as well as bigger.

  Snagging the bandolier out of the air, he swiftly drew each dagger and threw them into the air, where they floated for a moment before dashing around him in complicated patterns. Another twist of his magic gave them a slightly glowing sheen, allowing them to be seen better from a distance. Usually a terrible idea in a hunt when you’re trying to sneak up on your prey. Not an issue when the prey already knew where you were.

  Moving slowly around the area, Harry sent the daggers to harass the dragon, carefully not to enrage it too much. Blasts of fire erupted through the air, never quite managing to tag the blades. He could feel the heat even across the room and had no desire to test either the daggers heat tempering or his own.

  What he did focus on was making sure that when he sent a dagger stabbing into the ground, it was in the correct pattern. Several minutes of sneaking around and planting daggers finally had the configuration he wanted. Watching the dragon, he made sure to drag her attention in a certain direction. Once she was in place he channeled his magic through the daggers.

  Lightning seemed to ignite between the daggers, forming a series of runes that then arced over the dragon. The lightning flashed down and tightened over the mighty beast, pulling it to the ground with a grunt. She was still able to open her mouth and breathe fire, however it was pointed away from the nest and more importantly, away from Harry.

  Making his way over to the nest, he snagged the golden egg, holding it over his head. For just a moment he thought about taking one of the other eggs, then shook off the idea as he made his way back towards the tent. Pausing at the doors, he turned to face the audience, channeling one of the few spells he’d bothered to learn from the wizards, one that amplified his voice. “If you would like to see more blade dances, as well as the best food in the area, visit The Three Broomsticks, in Hogsmeade!”

  ***

  “That was a most impressive performance, my boy.”

  Harry turned away from his cooking for just a moment to nod briefly at the Headmaster before returning to his work. The man wasn’t the first to talk to him while he worked and he wasn’t about to let that bother him either. Even the ‘my boy’ comment was just background noise. Nothing the man had to say would matter unless it was sending him home.

  When Harry didn’t respond the Headmaster continued. “You didn’t stay to get the results of your performance.” Another pause. “I had hoped that we could talk about your returning to Hogwarts and continuing your education.”

  The Iron Chef sighed and turned to regard the man for just a moment. “I’ve said my piece. Unless you’ve got something new to add, such as who brought me here, then we have nothing else to discuss.”

  There were a few more moments of silence before the man added more. “Very well, I shall table that discussion for now. However, there is another matter in regards to the Tournament. As you do not currently have a Head of House, it falls upon me to inform you. There is to be a Yule Ball during the upcoming Winter Break.”

  “And you want me to cater it? How many people? What type of food are they used to? Meals or buffet style? Dessert?”

  “No, my dear boy, you misunderstand. As one of the champions you are required to attend.”

  “Required, is it? I don’t remember there being a mention of a fourth task.”

  “It isn’t a task.”

  “Then it isn’t required.”

  Another pause. “The other champions will all be there. I understand you’ve become quite close with Ms. Delacour.”

  That actually had Harry pause in his cooking for a moment, though it was mostly because he’d reached a point in the meal prep that he could pause. Turning to face the Headmaster, he frowned. “Fleur is a friend, along with dozens of other regulars. Even Madam Rosmerta, the owner who is standing behind you looking quite displeased with your interruption. Now, I’m going to tell you this one more time, Albus, then let you make the decision. I don’t dance and I have no intention of attending any type of Ball. I am, however, perfectly willing to cater the event, booked through the Madam. So if you want my participation in your event so badly, that’s the only way it’s going to happen.”

  Turning away, Harry proceeded to focus on his cooking. By the time the meal was done and presented to be taken to the customer, Dumbledore was still standing there. The Headmaster sighed. “Very well. I shall arrange for the details and requirements to be sent to Rosmerta.”

  ***

  “Why aren’t more people dancing?”

  “They’re too busy enjoying their food to leave the tables.”

  ***

  Standing on the docks, Harry frowned at the waters of the Black Lake. He never liked tracking down the monsters in the rivers and he definitely had no idea how to deal with a lake either. Seeing the way his friend was looking around frantically made him even more upset, but there was nothing he could do. He had no intention of getting into the waters, but he could at least try and find out what was going on with his friend.

  Finding out that her sister was missing gave him a bad feeling, especially when coupled with the officials description that they had to retrieve something that was stolen from them. Before leaving The Three Broomsticks he had checked all his possessions as usual and they were all secured. However, Rosmerta hadn’t been there to wish him well.

  Looking back at the waters, he decided he would give it a try after all, if only to make sure that his friends were alright.

  Before Fleur could jump into the waters, he asked her about what spell she was going to use. She described the bubblehead charm and the incantation. Harry had still yet to obtain a wand, yet he was able to do some of the spells wandlessly.

  Several minutes after the rest of the champions had already entered the dark depths, Harry was still on the docks. He could hear the restless crowd, as well as the judges, but ignored them. It was more important for him to focus on the spell. Especially since it would come in handy when he returned home. Maybe there was more to this magic stuff than he had previously allowed. Not enough to convince him to attend classes, but maybe he would see about getting a wand and some instruction from the regulars.

  Finally, he felt confident enough in the spell to slip into the waters. Immediately he felt the weight of his soaked leathers and clambered back onto the docks. The cold he could handle, but the weight would prevent him from swimming. Stripping down to his small clothes, he then reentered the waters.

  The darkness of the lake was oppressive. Reaching out, he summoned some stones from the shore and set them glowing. Trailing the glowing rocks behind him, he swam towards the bottom of the lake to begin exploring. Twenty minutes later and rather exhausted, he came across the sight of Fleur fighting off some type of creature.

  Taking hold of one of the rocks, he transfigured it into a blade and swam to help his friend. Once she was free, he beckoned her to follow him and they made their way deeper. Eventually they arrived at what looked to be a submerged stone village. He caught sight of some figures that might be mermaids, though he’d never seen one before, either back home or here. They seemed content to stay out of the way though as the two champions made their way to a clearing in the middle of the village.

  Two people were tied to a large stone, Rosmerta and what looked like a miniature, younger version of Fleur. Passing his stone dagger to Fleur, Harry then created another one and they both freed their hostage.

  Once the two returned to the docks, Harry left Rosmerta in the hands of the medics along with Fleur and the little girl, then headed towards the officials. Once the one who seemed to be in charge neared, Harry leveled him with a punch.

  “That was for putting my friend in danger.”

  He turned and walked away from the resulting chaos.

  ***

  Harry scowled down at the wand in his hand. Casting spells was simply too easy with the wand. There was almost no effort. As long as you got the pronunciation and movements correctly, the spell did what it was supposed to. That made learning the spell easy, but didn’t actually teach what the spell did. Against his better judgment he had been talking into attending a few of the classes, by Madam Rosmerta no less. He valued her opinion and wanted to show her he appreciated everything that she had done for him.

  The things he hated the most about learning magic was how everyone seemed to take magic for granted. It was a clinical thing, with none of the appreciation one should have for such a powerful ability. They also didn’t learn anything about the spell, except for how to use it. No learning why the words and movements had power. Or ways to modify the spell.

  Supposedly there was a whole discipline that surrounded understanding the underlying mechanics of magic and learning how to modify or create spells. However it was considered a niche study and few if any people took to studying it. He found that so hard to accept. It was like learning to cook and stopping at searing meat. No seasoning, no checking the timing, the cut, other ingredients or other variations. As a Chef he couldn’t accept that.

  At the end of his final class for the day, Harry vowed that once he learned a spell, especially the ones for cooking, he would then learn to do them wandlessly, as well as modify them for specific events. That would all start once he got back to the kitchen. Tying more magic into his cooking would propel him to levels he couldn’t even imagine.

  Just wait until the other Chefs saw what he could do!

  ***

  Fire raged in every direction.

  Harry unleashed yet another torrent of grease at an approaching hedge, then snapped his fingers to produce a spark that ignited the newly arrived aggressive plant.

  When the final task of the Tournament had started, he had planned on just sitting near the entrance and waiting for one of the other three to win. He’d even thought of just turning around and walking out and then entertaining the crowd with an impromptu cooking display. However, once he’d stepped into the maze it had closed behind him. Then after a few minutes of him not moving the hedges had started closing in and trying to herd him deeper into the maze.

  Not being one to be harassed by a plant, Harry decided to escalate. Since he didn’t have his cleaver and hadn’t thought to summon his daggers either, he’d settle for the next best thing. Fire. Copious amounts of fire.

  For a while the strategy seemed to work. The plants were apparently single minded in their desire to push him around. That meant that they made no move to dodge or extinguish themselves. That didn’t last long though, as whoever was behind the wandering shrubbery had taken to protecting some of the bushes while also trying to take care of the fires.

  That led to Harry using as much fire as he could, as well as adding grease from a cooking spell to give the flames more fuel than just the plants. Now he was surrounded by mostly burning bushes.

  “Potter!”

  Harry turned to see Alastor Moody stumping through one of the burning hedges, wand in hand. The defense professor gave his wand a brief wave and sent a cutting hex into the plants surrounding the old man, then another wave cut a path through the flames.

  “Get going, Potter. The Cup at the center of the maze is the only way out. Take the Portkey out of here.”

  Harry looked between the professor and the hole in the hedge before nodding his thanks and darting through. His leathers easily handled the few embers that fell his way as he burst through into a wide alleyway through the maze. It seemed empty and he could see a faint light at the end of the pathway.

  Upon reaching the clearing he couldn’t see any of the other champions. He didn’t really want to win the Tournament. The money would be nice but not needed. He’d made almost the same amount working at the Three Broomsticks. He didn’t need eternal glory, considering he planned to return home, where he already had recognition for his skills as the Iron Chef.

  The first other champion to reach the clearing was Cedric, the champion for Hogwarts. Harry nodded to him and waved him over. The young man appeared confused. “Harry? What are you doing? If you were already here, why didn’t you grab the cup?”

  Harry offered him a slight smile. “I never entered this tournament on my own, Cedric. I’m not here to compete with you. I’m only here because my life was threatened. Once one of you have won, my obligations to the Goblet will be complete. Hopefully Dumbledore will be able to send me home at that point.”

  The Hogwarts Champion frowned before slowly nodding. “That makes sense. Alright, cheers.” Reaching out, he touched the cup and disappeared.

  All around the hedge maze started sinking into the ground, even the ones that Harry had lit on fire. Soon there was a clear path back to the stands. Along the way he found Fleur injured and paused to take care of her. While he was doing so, Alastor showed up again, the man’s scowl deeper than usual.

  “Potter! What are you doing here? Thought I told you to get the cup?”

  “You did. Decided to let Cedric have it. Worked out either way, since the Task ended once someone had it.”

  For a moment it looked like Moody was going to say something more before the man turned and stumped away.

  Shaking his head, Harry stooped down and scooped Fleur into his arms, then made his way to the tournament organizers to get Fleur looked at.

  ***

  “Send me home.”

  “Do you not care that Cedric never returned from wherever the Cup took him?”

  Harry shook his head. “Quite frankly, no. Cedric was a nice enough young man, but we weren’t friends. I wasn’t in charge of security for the Tournament either. That was your responsibility. I’d already been forced to compete. You promised that the only thing preventing you from sending me home was the contract with the Goblet. Well, contract fulfilled. Send. Me. Home.”

  The Headmaster sighed and ran a hand down his beard. “I’m sorry, my boy, but I don’t know how to do that.”

  The Iron Chef frowned. “Meaning you had no intention of helping me. Otherwise you would have at least made an attempt, then told me you failed to find a way to send me home. Well, that’s enough of that then. I’ll find my own way home.”

  Calling for a House Elf, Harry held out his hand. “Take me to the Ministry atrium, please.”

  Before the Headmaster could order the House Elf to stop, the two disappeared.