Harry Potter And The Champion's Champion

Slytherins

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I have also taken some direct verbiage from the book Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Both the Characters and book are owned by JK Rowling and a mess of other companies.

Chapter 5

It was very late in the evening and Bartemius Crouch Jr. sat at his desk, contemplating the latest orders from his master. 'Potter WILL be in my graveyard on the agreed date and time or I shall be greatly displeased.' Crouch sighed as he thought of the Dark Lord's carefully laid plans that had been destroyed by a single careless spell by Potter. 'Even then, it might have been saved, but the kid had to go break his arm on top of that.'

Another sigh escaped the bogus Defense teacher. His pocket watch emitted a chime. Crouch pulled out his hip flask and downed his latest dose of Polyjuice Potion. The potion always left a bitter taste in his mouth so he reached for his bottle of Firewhisky and poured himself a glass. He then settled back in his chair and gazed off into nothingness as he let his thoughts wander as he tried to find a solution to the mess he found himself in.

"How can I get Harry Potter into that graveyard?" He asked himself. "He's not even in the tournament anymore. He'll be sitting in the stands with all of the other students while the champions, including that redheaded idiot friend of..." Crouch stopped as a sliver of an idea came to him. He took another sip of his Firewhisky as he thought of that word again. "Friend," Crouch knew Harry Potter suffered from a serious, life-threatening illness called Saving People Syndrome. "If...if I can get that carrot-topped stink sap plant into the maze...yeah, and then let Harry know his friend was in danger and needed his help..." Bartemius could see it now, Harry Potter rushing out of the stands and into the maze. "Throw in a time-delayed portkey and he'll be rushing right into my Master's graveyard."

Crouch poured himself another glass of Firewhisky in congratulations to himself. 'I just have to make sure Weasley gets to the third task. That can't be that hard to do.' As he took a sip of the Firewhisky, Crouch had no idea what he was getting himself into.

xXxXxXx

'I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!' Daphne Greengrass exclaimed as she examined herself in a mirror. 'How can I be the Ice Princess of Hogwarts if my icy stare is covered with tears because of that smell? Look at me! My hair's frizzled and my robes smell like fresh hippogriff manure!' She sniffed her robes. 'Actually, the manure probably smells better.' She thought of her sister. 'Though Astoria has it much worse with her room that close to the common room. She hasn't slept in several nights.'

Though Dumbledore and Snape had tried to find the cause of the smell and failed, Daphne was positive she knew what, or in this case who, was causing it. 'Something has to be done. If Slytherin, or more importantly my HAIR, is going to survive this year, then sacrifices will have to be made and I'm positive I know who is needed to be sacrificed.'

Daphne, along with her close friend Tracey Davis, started to make plans the next morning. They composed the document that was the cornerstone of their strategy and then spread out to talk to the rest of their house. Through cunning, persuasion and the threat of bringing open flames into the common room (the fireplace was shut down due to safety reasons,) they were able to obtain the support of all the members of their house except for the one who was to be sacrificed.

xXxXxXx

It was Saturday morning, only four days until the first task and Ron Weasley knew he needed to do something to prepare for the tournament. Harry and Hermione had asked him to join them in Hogsmeade that day, but unfortunately for the Slytherins, he had turned them down, opting to work on improving his energy reserves by downing a fifth plate of food for breakfast and retiring back to his bed to conserve that additional energy.