“Well, if you didn’t put your name in the goblet yourself, why don’t you proof it,” Ron said after Harry kept on heatedly denying the fact that he did.
Ron had initially felt jealous of his friend to be once again in the spotlight, ready to bring fame to the school. The jealousy had made his stomach twist a bit and the anger had made him explode at his friend.
Once his explosive temper had finally cooled down, the fact that his friend really never sought out to be the spotlight made itself known in its brain. It made Ron feel a bit ashamed.
The problem was, he believed Harry when he said so, but the rest of the school didn’t, because they just didn’t know him.
“What?” his best friend asked.
“Well, everyone thinks you are just seeking glory. That you want to win the cup and bring the victory to Hogwarts because you are the “Great Harry Potter”.” Ron gestured with his fingers for the last three words. Harry got an angry blush on his face again.
“Not my words,” Ron held up his hands defensively when Harry got ready to shout once again.
“And how do I proof it,” Harry asked his friend, still angry.
“Well, by not trying to win,” he said and Harry looked at him as if he had grown two heads.
“By not trying to win?” he asked.
“Yeah, just find out what the tasks are, and find the most easiest way to get out of it, without risking your neck. Make it really obvious as well,” Ron said. Harry was thinking it over.
The next morning, they sat together at the Gryffindor table and Hermione joined them, watching them wearily.
“No more fighting,” she asks, putting down a stack of books next her. She had spent half the night researching useful spells for Harry.
“No more fighting,” the boys declared.
The boys explained their plans to Hermione and she gaped at Ron.
“Ron, that is amazing thinking,” she said, and he blushed red under the praise, and his chest puffed out a bit.
The first task was dragons. It had to be dragons.
“Who would ever think it’s a good idea to put children against dragons?” Harry said, while Hermione kept on leafing through the Official Triwizard Rulebook.
“We’re wizards Harry. We can heal easily,” Ron said.
“Not when you’re dead,” Harry muttered, “have you found something Hermione,”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. Here it says that if you are unconscious, than the round will end,” she said.
“Unconscious? How will I be unconscious,” Harry asked.
“That’s easy mate, just pretend to faint. Do it really dramatically,” Ron said. Harry imagined him fainting and felt the blush rise.
“People will laugh at me,” he said, in a smaller voice then he wanted to.
“Yeah, and now they are pointing at you and hating you. Don’t worry, they’ll laugh at first, but after the second task, they’ll start believing you that you never meant to put your name in.” Ron said. He was quite sure of himself. It was something he would do if it happened to someone else.
And thus, when Harry stood there, facing the Hungarian Horntail and swallowed nervously. He looked around the audience and felt his legs quiver.
“Oh no,” he said in a loud and overacting voice, “a dragon,” he put the back to his head to his forehead and promptly fell to the floor.
The sudden silence from the crowd just hurt his ears.
Then suddenly:
“The champion is down and failed the task,”
Harry had been right of course. The first few days after the tournament he was greeted by several re-enactments of his performance, mostly done by the Slytherins. He had to admit, Draco could act much better then he did.
He didn’t find out what the second task was until it was time. Ron had been taken and so had Hermione.
He swallowed nervously, but he remembered going over all the rules with Hermione and one of the rules were that no outsiders life would be put in dangers.
So, when the other contestants dove bravely in the water, he just spent the entire hour splashing around at the surface, trying to get as many firsties wet as possible. They kept on shrieking every time he came near.
“Mr. Potter,” Prof. McGonagall said, when he accidentally wetted the hem of her robes. He just grinned cheekily and went over the Hufflepuffs.
He was relieved though when the Merpeople brought back Ron.
People finally started to catch on now though. Harry Potter wasn’t playing the game as he should. He was purposely loosing. Cedric waved at him now every time he saw him, giving him thumbs up.
Prof. Moody took him to the side before he was entering the third task.
“Potter, you are going to try for the cup at least right? None of this half-arsed stuff,” he had asked gruffly.
Harry had been surprised at his professor for suggesting this, but then he remembered that no grown-up really helped him with getting out of this safely. They just told him that he had to do the Triwizard tournament and then didn’t even offer him any guidance of mentorship.
“Of course, professor,” Harry said, not planning to do any work at all.
The day of the last task arrived and the maze looked immense. Harry was feeling quite relaxed. Hermione had told him that he would be disqualified from the moment he would shoot the “I surrender” lights from his wand.
So, he stepped in and shot his wand in the air and was disqualified, but before a professor could go get him, prof. Moody had him at wandpoint.
“Professor, what’s going on?” he asked nervously.
“We are going for a little walk, Potter,” the man said and together they walked swiftly through the maze. They encountered Krum, but professor Moody made quick work of him, rendering him unconscious.
Then they reached the cup, standing on a Pedestal.
“Take it Potter,” the man said, and Harry just knew it was a bad idea.
“I can’t professor, I gave up,” he tried, but the man poked his wand hard in Harry’s spine and he stumbled.
“No jokes Potter, grab it,”
His mind was going 100 miles a second. What would Ron or Hermione do. No, not Hermione, she was too smart and he couldn’t keep up with her.
What did Ron say? The simplest plan is often the best. The cup looked fragile, but was probably protected against all kind of magic.
But wizards only thought of magic means. They never stopped and consider muggle means.
Harry could feel the second time Moody bumped his want into his back and this time he stumbled on purpose, knocking down the pedestal with the cup on it. The stone pillar was a bit heavier then he expected and he really had to put his shoulder in it.
Luckily the quidditch practice had given him some muscle.
The pedestal wiggled just enough for the cup to overbalance.
It fell to the ground and broke in two, releasing a wave of magical backlash which threw him and professor Moody against the walls of the maze and rendered the both of them unconscious.
When he woke up, Harry was amazed to note that he had been found together not with professor Moody, but with Barty Crouch junior. The real professor had been kidnapped by him ages ago.
Rita Skeeter had the time of her life when he unmasked his plan under Veritaserum to unleash the Dark Lord.
“But the ministry stopped him,” Fudge kept on saying while the journalist was muttering in glee under her breath.
And thus another school year ended where Harry outsmarted the Dark Lord.