The Goblet of Fire

Chapter One

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

Yes, thought Harry. Any second until, predictably, my name comes out of that goblet and the whole year is ruined. That's how life goes.

The flames inside the goblet turned red again and sparks flew from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame sot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arms length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang, will be Vikor Krum." A chorus of cheers and cries followed as Krum passed Dumbledore and walked through the door. Harry tensed in his chair.

"The champion for Beauxbatons, is Fleur Delacour." Harry spared a second to point her out to Ron before focusing on the goblet again. It could only be so long now. Admittedly he hadn't put his name in but still... it had to happen.

"The Hogwarts champion, is Cedric Diggory." Harry sat stunned in his chair. Surely not, there had to be some mistake. He was barely listening as Dumbledore began talking again.

Then he felt Ron knock his arm and pointed to the goblet. "Look!"

The goblet was shining red again, Harry relaxed slightly as the same time preparing to get up, in a stunned way of course, as a fourth tongue of fire shot out bearing another scrap of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip of paper in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore, before Dumbledore cleared his throat, and read out:

"Draco Malfoy."

Harry's mouth fell open in disbelief.

* * *

Draco sat, stunned. He glanced across the table and met the eyes of Blaise who was watching him. Blaise pointed to Draco them mimed putting a piece of paper in his goblet. Draco shook his head frantically.

"Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore repeated, sounding as shocked as the rest of them. All heads in the room turned to look at Draco who suddenly wished the floor would swallow him up.

"Draco Malfoy, up here if you please."

"Go," hissed Pansy, giving him a small push. He stood up and began to walk down the hall, looking around. He briefly met Potter's eyes and for a second it was worth the eyes of the whole school just for the look on Potter's face. He arranged his face into a lazy smirk and Potter turned away, fuming. He turned to the front, determined to show no fear. He walked up to Dumbledore then down the staff table. Briefly he met Snape's eyes. The potions teacher spared him a small smile as Draco headed towards the door.

The room he went into was lined with portraits of witches and wizards and a fire roared in one corner. Krum, Diggory and the girl were gathered around the fireplace. The girl looked over as Draco walked in and shook out her hair.

Show-off, Draco thought to himself.

"What is it? Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

"No," Draco replied coldly. "Zey do not want you back in ze Hall."

"Well zen... why are you here?"

"Ze same reason you're here I expect. Big goblet, red fire, tongue of flame, a name on the end? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Your name came out of the goblet?" asked Diggory, sounding surprised.

"Finally, someone who can speak English."

"Extraordinary." Draco turned; that idiot Bagman had entered the room. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... lady." He gripped Draco's arm. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth triwizard champion."

"Let go of me," Draco spat, pulling his arm from Bagman's grip.

"Zis is all vairy funny," said the silver-haired girl icily. "But I would appreciate it if you stopped it now meester Bagman."

"Oh it's no joke Miss Delacour. Draco's been telling the truth."

Delacour, that was her name. "Told you so," said Draco importantly.

"'E cannot compete, 'e is too young."

"I can so!" said Draco angrily drawing away. "Just because I don't have long stupid hair and a ridiculous French accent. I'm probably more proficient in magic than any of you!"

"I think Draco's right," said Bagman, though he was now looking at Draco uncertainly. "His name came out of the Goblet. There can be no ducking out now; he has to compete."

"Hang on," said Draco, suddenly realising. "Actually, can I reverse that? I don't want to compete."

At that moment the door opened and more teachers came in, including Snape. Draco moved towards him. "Professor, they're saying I have to compete in the tournament."

"We certainly aren't," said the Delacour girl. "I don't want 'im in ze tournament.

"I agree," said Maxine turning to Dumbledore. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Draco snickered quietly and Snape cuffed him lightly around the head. Dumbledore turned to Draco.

"Malfoy, did you put your name in the Goblet?"

"No. I told you, I don't want to compete."

"We can't blame Draco for this," said Snape firmly, resting one hand on Draco's shoulder. "He would never have been able to get his name in the goblet, especially not as a fourth champion. He shouldn't be made to compete."

"That isn't an option," Crouch's crisp official voice broke over them all. "The rules are clear. Those people whose names come out of the goblet are bound to compete in the tournament. All four of them have to take part now." For a second Draco was tempted to refuse, then he changed his mind. Being school champion couldn't be that hard.

"Fine," he drawled. "I'll compete." The group looked at him in surprise.

"No," snapped McGonagall.

"If Draco wants to compete and the rules say he must compete, there's nothing we can do." Said Dumbledore with a sigh. "All four will compete and that's the end of the matter." Draco slumped against the wall as arguments between teachers raged around him. Snape was glaring at him. After a what seemed like a long time someone got back on the subject of the tournament and Draco tuned back in again.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," began Crouch. He had one of those voices it was hard to pay attention to. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard." He went on a bit more. 'November twenty-fourth, panel of judges.' Random phrases filtered into Draco's mind and eventually it seemed he was allowed to go. Delacour and Krum left with their teachers.

"Cedric, Draco, I suggest you go to bed. I am sure Slytherin and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you and it would be a shame to deprive them of the opportunity." Draco cheered up as he realised his house mates would use the opportunity to get violently drunk. He headed for the door and Cedric followed.

"So," asked the Hufflepuff. "How did you put your name in the Goblet?" Draco spared him his most withering stare before turning away.

"I don't fraternise with Hufflepuffs."

He headed downstairs to the dungeons.

* * *

Draco woke next morning with a splitting headache. He wondered briefly why he was awake then saw Blaise poking him calmly with the point of a quill. "I'm awake," he muttered.

"Good." Blaise laid the quill down.

"Would you please tell me why I'm awake? Its Sunday morning, I sleep late Sunday mornings." Blaise pushed a clock in front of his face.

"It's Sunday afternoon. Get up."

"I need chocolate." Blaise dangled a bar in front of his nose. Draco reached up to grab it but Blaise pulled it away. "Fine," Draco snapped, pushing the covers off and grabbing it. He looked down at his body. "Didn't anyone think to tell me to take off my robes last night?" He began to pull them off and hunt for something clean. "Where are Crabbe and Goyle?"

"In the library with Pansy." Blaise sat on Draco's bed and began to eat a second bar of chocolate. "They've been researching the tournament all morning." Draco swore. Of course, the tournament. He pulled a clean set of robes on and ate the bar of chocolate he was holding.

"Let's go flying," he said, grabbing his broom from the chest.

"Shouldn't we help them research? Don't you want to win this tournament?"

"Fine, don't come." He sighed, "I can't think this morning."

"Afternoon," Blaise corrected calmly. He turned and walked over to his bed, picking up his broom. "Fine, but if we don't work out the first task you'll be flying blind." Draco shrugged and cast an eye across the small room they shared. It was a fourth year privilege, private rooms for two or three people. He sighed. Blaise rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go then," he said. They left the room together.

They picked up the others and went out to the pitch with them, grabbing a few school brooms on the way. The pitch was deserted, Quidditch had been abandoned for the stupid tournament. Blaise had brought a tennis ball though so they flew into the air and spent some time passing it in as many ways as they could think of. Eventually they landed and headed back to the school. They were just going in when Moody began to walk past. Draco ducked behind Crabbe and Goyle moved to shield him. At the same time, Draco felt the strange feeling swell up in him like a residue from the ferret incident. This time it was stranger than usual though. He looked at the back of his hand and saw a few shoots of white fur. He focused briefly and the shoots withdrew. Musing, Draco headed back into the castle with the others. As soon as he could, however, he ducked into a bathroom and stepped into one of the stalls, carefully locking the door.

Okay, how could this work? He considered it, he had no way of knowing if his hunch was right or not but it had to be worth a try. It suddenly occurred to him that it probably required a spell or something. But I didn't use a spell earlier. He thought about Moody but couldn't focus on the whole man at a time. Eventually he settled on the strange electric blue eye. Sitting cross legged on the toilet floor he focused on the image of the eye, twisting and turning. Slowly he felt the strange power well up inside him then spread across him. White fur grew from his body and he shrank until a white ferret was standing on the tiles. Draco opened his eyes.

Okay, this is slightly cool... how do I change back? He considered the question. If thinking about Moody had allowed him to change.... He closed his eyes again and pictured the cat McGonagall changed into. He felt himself growing and the fur receding. When he opened his eyes he was Draco again, a satisfied smirk on his face. He walked back up to the Slytherin common room.

"What was that about?" asked Pansy as he entered.

"Nothing," Draco replied innocently, going over to sit with her, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle. There was a pile of books on the triwizard tournament in the centre of the table. Draco picked one up and looked at it. "Why are we doing this?"

"We're trying to find out what kind of thing the tasks have been in the past," said Pansy as Blaise put his arm around Draco's shoulders. "Just so that you'll have some idea."

"Snape probably knows," said Goyle suddenly.

"Yeah," agreed Crabbe. "You could ask Snape." Draco sighed and put his head in his hands.

"How many times Goyle? Snape let a werewolf teach us. A werewolf. And he didn't tell us anything. I refuse to crawl to Snape and beg for help. We can do this ourselves." He paused. "I think... I'll make badges." He sat back in his chair, musing. "They could say on the front 'Support Draco Malfoy, the real Hogwarts champion.'" A wicked grin spread across his face. "And when you push them, they can say 'Cedric stinks.'"

"I'd wear one," said Pansy, writing something on a piece of parchment.

"What's that?" asked Draco, craning his neck.

"Charms homework. Crabbe and Goyle haven't started yet, they wanted to make you do it for them." Draco shrugged, pulling two pieces of parchment towards him.

"Blaise, can you go get my blank badges from my trunk?" Blaise sighed but headed towards their dorm. Draco began to write out two more charms essays, making sure they were suitably different from each other and his own. When Blaise returned with the badges Draco abandoned everything, working with them. By six he'd developed the spell and pushed the box to the others to hastily scribble the end of the essays down. They finished at roughly the same time.

"Now," said Draco standing in a dramatic pose with a badge pinned to his chest. "To dinner!" Pansy laughed and they all headed downstairs.

At the table downstairs every single Slytherin bought a badge from them. One seventh year even performed a complicated charm to double the amount of badges in the box.

"They might start to dissipate in a few days," he warned. Draco smirked and sent Morag to sell the magic ones to the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. He didn't do quite such a roaring trade but they sold: Ravenclaws hated Hufflepuffs after a particularly terrible loss to them the year before. Gryffindors refused to buy ones with Draco's name on but some asked if they could get ones that just said 'Cedric Stinks.' Draco made a mental note to buy more blank badges. When they went to bed that night, Draco lay with a contented smile. Blaise lay down beside him and Draco's smile grew even bigger.

"Entering this tournament was probably the best decision I ever made," he muttered sleepily.

"I thought you didn't enter."

"Well then, not entering but being picked anyway was the best decision ever." Blaise laughed and they slept.

* * *

Draco didn't end up seeing Potter until Care of Magical Creatures which meant he couldn't be quite as superior as usual because the stupid giant would be there and, possibly, the hideous creatures he was trying to make them rear. As it was Draco rushed out of Transfiguration and caught Potter before they reached the forest.

"Well, look who it is: the non-champion. What does it feel like to not be in the spotlight anymore?" His eyes fell on a badge Potter was wearing. It wasn't one of his badges.

Note to self: locate rival badge maker.

Looking closed he saw it read S.P.E.W.

"Spew?" he said as though it was revolting. "What's spew?" To his surprise the mudblood answered.

"It's S.P.E.W.: the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare." Draco found himself laughing in spite of himself at the same moment as Crabbe and Goyle caught up with him.

"What?" snapped Granger.

"Nothing," said Draco, through his laugher. He forced a straight face. "Indeed. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. And what does The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare do?"

Granger looked surprised to be asked but her face turned determined. "House elves! We aim to give house elves rights and pay and pensions and sick leave and... and... "

"And?" asked Draco with raised eyebrows.

"Don't bother," muttered Potter. "He's not worth it, he doesn't care."

"Oh but of course you do Potter. You're full of so many comradely feelings towards house elves. I bet you love them really. Those huge eyes really turn you on." He turned to the mudblood. "Tell you what, I'll trade. You can have one of my badges if I can have one of yours."

"You... want... a badge?"

"Why not?"

"Okay... " Granger held out a badge. Draco took it and passed her one of his. She looked at it slightly disapprovingly then Draco pushed it and it changed. Her whole face lit up. "Wow, what kind of spell is that?" she asked. She examined it closely. Draco shared a look with Crabbe then pushed past Potter towards the forest, trying to think up the best meaning he could for 'S.P.E.W.'

His good mood evaporated the instant they were told what they were doing. "Take this thing for a walk?" he asked, horrified. The huge great giant glared at him.

"If you're the 'real 'ogwarts champion,' it should be no trouble now, should it? 'ere, you can 'ave this biggun. For practice." He attached a lead to a huge skrewt and pushed the end into Draco's hand. Draco stared at it as the giant turned away. He took a deep breath and bent down in front of the skrewt when he was sure no one was looking. After being attacked by the hippogriff he'd been reading up on how to respond to any large dangerous creature. He wasn't sure what exactly this was, but he could try.

"Hi skrewt. I'm Malfoy, I don't know if you have a name and I doubt you could tell me if you did but we've been thrown together for an hour so I want to make some things clear. No blasting, no poisoning and no hurting me in any way." The skrewt made a strange noise somewhere between a gulp and a cough:

"K'bluh." Draco took it as agreement. Standing up, he saw Potter talking to the giant oaf and led his skrewt over towards them. Lurking in the bushes he could just about hear what they were saying.

"I still can't believe his name came out of the Goblet." Draco smirked at the anger and frustration in Potter's voice.

"Wha' were you expecting?" asked the oaf. "Did you want to take part?"

"No... well... I don't know, I expected something I guess. Voldemort has to be planning something, I assumed it would involve the tournament."

"And yeh assumed it would involve you."

"Of course it would involve me! He's my nemesis. I almost killed him. Why would Malfoy's name come out of the Goblet of Fire?"

"Well I dunno Harry; maybe you should be grateful."

"Yeah. Grateful that Malfoy is school champion."

"One of the champions."

"Maybe he'll be killed. Maybe something will eat him."

"Where is Malfoy anyway?" Draco quickly moved onto the lawn with his skrewt, and when he glanced around he saw Potter glaring at him. Draco glanced down, his skrewt looked as though it was about to blast off.

"You do that," he said coldly, "and I will personally tear you into hundreds of tiny skrewt parts and feed you to Crabbe's cat." The skrewt must have picked up on something, for its end relaxed slightly and it looked suitably cowed. Draco glared at it. "You're a big fat coward, you know that?"

"K'bluh," the skrewt agreed.

* * *

Draco tried to avoid Potter the rest of the week. He hadn't liked Potter's tone when he had been talking about Draco being eaten. For the next few days he spent most of his free time in the common rooms or the library. The advantage to the library was that Granger was often there to see the glories of Draco's S.P.E.W badge which now read:

Society for the

Promotion of

Evil

Wizards

He was dreading potions most, however. Not only would the murderous Potter be there but Snape would be there too. Probably trying to convince Draco to 'trust him.' To trust a man who let a werewolf teach in the castle! He had already struggled through one Friday by sitting between Crabbe and Goyle who glared at Snape violently whenever he moved towards their table.

He was standing in the hallway when Potter and his lackeys arrived. Potter hadn't seen his Spew badge yet, though Potter was wearing his on his robes.

"Ah," said Draco loudly. "Potter. Glad to see you're a member of our evil society."

"What?" said Potter, sounding surprised.

"S.P.E.W, the Society for the Promotion of Evil Wizards." A few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked completely stunned about this society.

"You know perfectly well that's not what it is Malfoy," said Granger coldly. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Ah, that's your club Granger. The club me and Potter belong to is much more select. Only Champions and evil wizards are allowed in."

"I'm not in your bloody club Malfoy," snapped Potter.

"You're not?" Malfoy feigned surprise. "Ah, so you care for the little house elves then." The onlookers snickered. "You want to give them rights and sick leave and possibly and nice little pension." The crowd were laughing now. "Of course, the mudblood would want to give rights to other, poorer creatures. She must feel such an affinity with them."

"Shut up Malfoy!" Potter had drawn his wand.

"Going to hex me? Moody isn't here to save your neck this time."

"And McGonagall isn't here to save yours."

"Densaugeo!" cried Draco at the same time as Potter yelled: "Furnunculus!" Their spells met in mid air and shot off in different directions. Potter's spell his Goyle hard in the face. Draco's hit Granger. The corridor erupted in noise.

"What is all this about?" Draco turned, Snape had arrived.

"Potter attacked Draco!" said Crabbe quickly. Draco kicked him. "But his spell hit Goyle."

"Malfoy attacked me too," interrupted Potter. "But his spell hit Hermione."

Snape examined Goyle before sending him to the hospital wing, saying: "Crabbe, you can take him." Both hulking boys left the corridor. Snape turned to Granger; her teeth were growing at an amazing rate. Draco congratulated himself. "I see no difference," said Snape calmly, turning away. "Everyone inside." But Granger had run off. Draco was smirking as Potter and Weasel began yelling at Snape. Eventually they'd lost fifty points and gained a detention each. The corridor emptied into the classroom and before Draco realised, he was alone with Snape.

"How long will you keep this up?" the potions master hissed. "You need me, Draco. If you'd done that in front of anyone else you'd be in detention now."

"I can live with detention." He turned to enter the classroom but Snape's arm stopped him.

"You're being foolish; you can't get through this tournament alone."

"I'm not alone."

"You're too young for this!"

"Fine." Draco leant against the wall. "What's the first task?"

"I can't tell you, not straight out. I'm under oath, I'm not allowed to just tell you anything."

"Then I don't think I need your help." Draco ducked under his arm and entered the classroom, sitting at a desk with Pansy and Blaise. He had sounded decisive to Snape but now his hands were shaking slightly. Blaise put his hand reassuringly on Draco's and Draco leant against his shoulder.

"Draco," came Snape's voice. "What poison is this?" He lifted an elegant vial from his desk.

"I don't know," said Draco in surprise.

"Really? Wait behind after the lesson and we will discuss your startling lack of knowledge." Draco decided he now knew why Potter hated Snape so much.

There was a knock at the door. Snape and Draco looked around, Snape looked annoyed. "Who is it?" Snape asked. The door opened to reveal a Slytherin first year. "Baddock?" said Snape, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I was told to get Malfoy," Malcolm's voice was calm, confident and Slytherin.

"Draco has a potions lesson and a meeting with me to sit through. Your hero worships will have to wait."

"Bagman wants him," said Macolm, turning slightly pink. "All the school champions have to go." Draco saw Potter turn angrily away. He smirked and stood up.

"Leave your bag," said Snape quickly.

"He has to take it," countered Malcolm. Draco swung it on his shoulder.

"We'll have the meeting some other time, sir," he shot at Snape as they left. Once in the corridor he punched the air. "You have no idea how much I love you," he informed Malcolm. The boy grinned.

"It's so cool you being school champion."

"Anything which gets me away from Snape and irritates Potter is cool. What do they want me for?" Malcolm shrugged.

"I wasn't really listening. I think they want photographs."

"I need my bag for that?"

"No, but I figured you'd want to stay out of potions."

"You think like a true Slytherin. Where is it?"

"That classroom." Malcolm grinned at him. "Go get 'em." Draco pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The other three champions were there already. Krum was standing in the corner looking surly. Draco wondered if the Quidditch champion was capable of any other expression. Diggory was talking to the French girl, Dela... thing. The girl was doing the stupid hair-tossing thing again. Draco sighed and walked forwards.

"Ah," said Bagman cheerily. "Here he is, the fourth champion."

"I prefer to think of myself as the first," Draco replied coolly.

"Yes, well. The wand-weighing ceremony is coming soon."

"Ah." So that was what this was about.

"There's also going to be a few photos. Rita here is doing a small piece on the tournament." An overly extravagant woman with rigid curls framing a heavy-jawed face moved forwards. Draco took an immediate dislike to her when he saw she was clutching a bag made of crocodile skin.

"Rita Skeeter," she said, holding out a long fingered hand. Draco eyed it with distaste.

"Malfoy," he muttered, ignoring the hand

"Shy?" A quill was suddenly in her hand and a piece of parchment. "Nervous?"

"I'm fine you stupid woman," Draco replied coldly. The reporter laughed.

"So," she said in an undertone, pulling Draco to the edge of the room. "How did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

"I didn't. I told everyone before. I didn't put my name in the stupid Goblet."

"Of course you didn't." She gave a large wink. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Look," he said coldly. "If you want the dirt on someone people want to read about you only have to ask. No one cares about me but I could give you the dirt on Potter for a small fee."

"Potter? Harry Potter?"

"No Gerald Potter. Of course Harry."

"Draco," called Bagman. "We're starting."

"I'll see you around," Draco muttered to Skeeter before turning and walking back to the chairs. Rita stood for a few moments pensively then withdrew a quill and began jotting down everything she knew about the Potters.

Draco pulled up a chair and sat beside Krum but still a short distance from the others. He felt suddenly aware that they were all at least a head taller than him. Dumbledore's voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

"This is Mr Ollivander. He will be ensuring your wands are in a good enough condition for the tournament." The old wizard with large dark eyes stepped out of the shadows. Draco didn't like the look of him though he'd only seen the man once before, when his father had been purchasing a new wand.

"Miss Delacour." That was her name. "Could we have you forwards first please?" Delacour walked towards Ollivander, flinging her hair extravagantly as she did so and passed her wand to the man.

"Nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me... "

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a Veela," said Delacour proudly.

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a Veela," mimicked Draco. Delacour shot him an insulted look.

"It's one of my grandmuzzers," she continued with an air of importance. Draco resisted the urge to groan. So she was part Veela: that could explain her attitude problems. Ollivander created a bunch of flowers from Delacour's wand before handing it back to her. Great, so the wand maker was infatuated too.

It was Diggory's turn next. He walked up and held out his wand in such a self-important way Draco had to fight to prevent himself laughing. Ollivander went on for a while about unicorns.

"It's in fine condition... you treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," Diggory spoke as though this was a great deed.

"Yes," drawled Draco. "That would be in the time you were calmly spending with the friends you haven't got, would it?"

"Draco," said Dumbledore warningly. "Would you please save the sarcastic remarks for another time?" Draco glared at him then slumped back in his chair. Ollivander looked slightly surprised but did some spell or other then passed the wand back to Diggory. "Mr Krum, if you please." Krum slouched up to Ollivander and held out his wand with an air of complete disinterest. Draco bit his lip to prevent any of the remarks he was contemplating from coming out. He was barely listening as Krum's wand passed the test. How did a wand fail anyway? If it didn't do magic the wizard would've bought a new one. Then he remembered Weasel's wand in second year; maybe Dumbledore was worried their wands might backfire. Draco laughed quietly to himself as he remembered the slug incident.

"Mr Malfoy!" said Dumbledore loudly. Draco jerked up. "Please, give your wand to Mr Ollivander." The whole room was looking at him. He opened his bag and began to rummage through his potions books, trying to remember where he'd put it. Then he remembered leaving it on the desk in the potions lesson and swore. Dumbledore coughed loudly. "Your wand, Draco?"

"I left it in potions." He stood up. "I'll go get it, I won't be long." Dumbledore put his head in his hands.

"Run," he advised.

"Sure," he was halfway out the door before turning back. "You can do the photos without me if you like."

"Go."

"Gone." Draco ran down the hallways to the dungeons and pushed open the door to the potions classroom, the lesson was in full swing. He moved in quietly and picked up his wand. He was just turning to leave when Snape spotted him.

"Ah, Draco. Are you back in my lesson now?"

"No, sir." He lifted his wand. "I need this."

"Well you can stay for the moment, we're testing antidotes and I want to test yours."

"I can't, sir. They're waiting for me. Dumbledore told me to run." He could almost see Snape grinding his teeth.

"Fine, go."

"Thank you, sir." Draco sped out of the room and ran back to the classroom. He leant on the wall for a few moments to catch his breath then pushed the door open and stepped inside. The three other champions looked very bored, Dumbledore was pacing up and down and Maxime and Karkaroff were muttering angrily under their breath to each other.

"Ah," said Ollivander. "Is that it, Mr Malfoy?" Draco walked forwards and held out his wand reluctantly. Ollivander took it and examined it closely. He looked puzzled for a moment then examined it more carefully. "Where did you get this wand, Mr Malfoy?"

"My father gave it to me," said Draco in surprise. "Why?"

"Its not a make I'm familiar with. Ash, twelve inches. Containing... containing... " He paused, examining it closer before turning to Draco. "Mr Malfoy, what does your wand contain?"

"I'm... not sure." Draco was aware of every eye in the room on him again. "My father gave it to me. Is it important?"

"No... No, I suppose not. It works for you alright?"

"Yes... "

"And, I suppose, the wand must choose the wizard after all." He raised Draco's wand causing a spout of wine to shoot out of it before passing it back to Draco. "Well, it works fine I suppose." Draco took it nervously and pushed it back into his robe. Everyone watched him curiously as he went to sit down again.

"Well," said Dumbledore, jolting the room from their thoughts. "Now that's done with you may head down to your lessons. Or alternatively, seeing as they are nearly over, dinner might be a good idea."

"Photos, Dumbledore," said Bagman loudly.

"Ah yes, of course." Dumbledore turned to Skeeter. "Well then, where do you want us?"

Draco didn't bother with dinner. Instead, he headed straight to the common rooms and pulled out his wand, looking at it from every angle. He'd never really considered it before.

The wand chooses the wizard.

What on earth was that supposed to mean?

He made a second batch of badges before heading upstairs to bed.