What's up guys. I'm gonna be busy these next few weeks so my posting may be a little erratic. I do like getting constructive criticism, so I don't mind you saying something you felt was off, but I'm not always going to agree or change it. In the books, until he cut his hair, Harry could walk through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade without notice as long as he had his scar covered. It wasn't until after fourth year that people really began to pay attention to where he was and what he was doing as they ran a smear campaign against him. I also never stated that he sold his ancestral house, I said it was destroyed. The properties were farmlands, potion ingredient farms, etc.. Still terrible to sell off, pretty much equally to the money. But during war when things like property could get destroyed while money in a vault can't, it's a better tradeoff to sell those things and keep one. Not the best decision, but the smart one.

Snatch And Grab

Two Days Later

"Fifteen… Sixteen… Seventeen… Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty!" Harry let himself crash down, waiting for the burning sensation in his arms to fade.

He laid down in an unused classroom, the password thankfully still being the same as the one displayed on the map. It was on the 6th floor, making it an annoyance to get to, but it was away from other people.

Running inside of it was a bit of a bother, but moving the chairs towards the middle made it a viable option. It was nice to be alone, especially with all the hate he had been getting recently. Being glared at by everyone was something he had experienced before, but it had been fear last time.

Anger was something he wasn't used to in large crowds of people. He never thought he would even think it before, but fear was a lot better than anger. No one had jeered at him when they were afraid of him, nor had they sneered.

He shook his head as he felt his muscles settle into dead weight, completely tired from his exercise. It was a bit unnerving that they wouldn't answer his calls as swiftly as he would like, but nothing too bad.

He carefully walked over to the wall and sat against it. He did the same thing he had been doing for hours every day since he began practicing the mental arts. He closed his eyes, grabbed his wand and focused his magic inwards.

It was an odd way of doing it, but the book had detailed it as a little shortcut to learning. It usually took months, or years if you were his ancestor, to gain stable ground in your mind. Sending your magic into your wand and pushing it back inside towards your mind with force was a risky way of doing it.

You sacrificed all the control you would usually have acquired in those months of meditating and connecting your mind and magic. People began with an understanding of their emotions and self when doing it the proper way, whereas you had to build it up yourself with the shortcut.

Entering a trance, he was transported to a world of darkness. Not in the sense of evil, but simply lack of light. That was the other side effect. His inner world was not illuminated at all, making it harder on him to focus.

He had spent the last two days building his 'planet'. He had begun by conjuring little specks of dirt, knowing he needed a foundation. It didn't need to be big since he could expand it, but it needed to exist.

He had been getting better as time went on, but even now he could only conjure little clumps. He barely had a platform to stand on, let alone build a bonfire like his ancestor was instructing him too.

'One clump, two clump…' He felt like dozing off as he conjured a clump a minute, barely making any progress as time passed.

After a few hours, he finally reached the next level of conjuring. It would make everything so much easier.

'Hell yes! Two clumps per minute now baby!' He grinned sadly, his attempt to cheer himself up not working at all.

He did have enough for the main attraction though. The bonfire. It wouldn't do anything yet, but it would be the focal point for controlling his emotions until he could do it with ease.

He focused on a feeling of nothingness, like the cold void inside his stomach he got when he was so sad that he couldn't feel anything, and created with it. He slowly conjured logs, inch by inch.

They shone a deep blue, somehow sucking the darkness around him inside of it, making it even darker if that was possible. He spent minute after minute, struggling to ensure it would be a proper emotion dump.

He got maybe a tenth of the way through it went he felt a tug on his body. Allowing himself to get pulled back out of his mind, he braced himself for the incoming pain.

The first thing he noticed when he left his mind was the way his body was locking up, cramping. Then came the itching of his insides. The stretching of skin, making his body feel tight. The ravenous hunger clawing at his stomach.

He had spent too long in his mind and his body took the chance to continue growing. It usually happened when he was asleep, but happened when he was lost in his mind for too long. It lacked the heat of basilisk venom though, so he would survive it.

"Great Master Harry Potters Sir! Dobby brings food! Yes he does! Great Master Harry Potters missed 3 meals! Great Master must be starving!" Dobby's huge eyes stared excitedly into his own.

He had been hesitant to include Dobby at first, knowing how overzealous he could be, but he didn't regret it. It was nice having someone so excited just to serve him. He could see why people got addicted to it.

"Thank you for waking me Dobby. I must have dozed off while practicing some magic." He winced as he waited for his bones to settle, never really getting used to the feelings of growing pain.

"Of course! Great Master Harry Potters is training very hard to win tournament! Incredible! Incredible!" Dobby danced around a bit, before popping off.

Harry chuckled, leaning back against the wall as his body calmed down. His hunger was still prominent, but he could ignore that. Hunger was something he was very used to after all.

He mentally regarded his progress. He was probably around the skill level of a fifth or sixth year student when it came to combat, but was a bit below fourth year when it came to the academic side.

His lazing off with Ron hadn't helped him at all. He did need to start practicing more magic, only recalling a few spells that didn't have anything to do with combat, which was pretty horrible.

He could recall them when he was fighting, his mind working perfectly in moments like those, but not in leisure. He knew that Hermione knew dozens of spells, possibly even a full hundred. Most of them were probably nigh useless, but you never knew.

Her basic knowledge would get her farther in life than him though, since fighting wasn't really a job, unless you counted official dueling. Something he wasn't really eager to do.

'Try and gain better proficiency with defensive mental magic by first task. Improve body as much as possible. Review every single spell taught in class that I may have learned at one point.'

He mentally made a list of the things he would need to do. There was no way to really improve in a way that mattered by the time of the first task. He didn't know what it was, so he couldn't afford to hyperfocus something and then get screwed.

Going over spells he may have performed at one point would be to his best benefit. His magic would remember the spells, having cast them before. This meant that it would take less time than learning a whole new spell.

"Food be ready! All three meals!" His thoughts wavered as Dobby popped back into the room excitedly, magically carrying a few trays in the air.

The smell of the food hit him, and despite the sheer quantity of it, he knew the black hole in his stomach would only be somewhat satisfied by it.

Six Days Later

"Accio pillow." He spoke clear and precise, focusing his entire being on the pillow he wanted to summon, and was granted his wish.

Sixty-one spells. That was how much he knew. Almost all of them prank spells and useless charms. Even after writing them all down, he could scarcely remember most of them. It was frustrating.

He didn't understand how Hermione did it so seamlessly. He could cast them all somewhat decently, but they took to much time and effort to even be worth it in a combat scenario. Making someone's nose run and get a cold could be useful, but a simple finite would destroy that anyway.

"Accio quill."

Might as well try and disarm them if you can hit them with a spell like that. His skills in transfiguration were the same as ever, not all that good. Decent, but nothing special.

He couldn't recall enough details to make it amazing, and his animation charms lacked the sophistication and smooth movements needed to be useful. He only had 12 days left. His mental magic had been going along much better now, but that was with supreme effort.

The most promising aspect was his body though. He had always been bemused about his body before. The average of his peers stood at least around 5' 5", but he was stuck at around 5' 1". Smaller than the average girl.

"Accio book."

Despite the pain and constant eating he had to suffer through, his body had shown more promise than his magic so far. He had shot up a single inch so far, but even that had put him just a teeny bit taller than the average girl.

He didn't have muscles just yet, but his ribs were beginning to become hidden, his stomach filling out. His legs had gotten a bit bigger, his fingers not as boney. The constant eating was clearly doing its job.

"Accio bag."

He had completed and lit up his bonfire though, which was a massive achievement to him. Keeping it lit up still devoured most of his mental energy, but he didn't have anything to throw into it yet anyway.

He had begun making smaller fires to signify his other emotions, but they would take some time. Hopefully he could get his negative emotions done by the first task. Not being weighed down by those would definitely help.

"Accio water bottle."

He set down the water bottle that came flying at him and cast a scourgify on his glasses, getting rid of the dirt on the lenses. He swung the grey vest of his uniform over his button down shirt and tightened his tie up.

He slipped his robe on, feeling just as comfortable as it always did. The warmth at seeing his houses colors had faded though, replaced with an uncaring image.

He stepped out of his room, ready to head down to the kitchens and have his first meal. Most of the students were in class, but he knew he would have to deal with quite a few glares and sneers from students with no morning classes.

As he walked through the portrait of his house, heading towards the kitchens, the air around him was odd. The students were giving him smug smirks, proudly popping their chests out. He didn't really get why they were doing so, but it didn't take long.

The badges on their chests said, "Support Cedric Diggory - The Real Hogwarts Champion." He had no problem with that. It was the truth after all.

What it shifted into though… was what he had a problem with. "Potter Stinks!" Changing to a gaseous green, different colored clouds of it swirling around the one statement set him off like.

He tightened his fists inside his pockets, making sure no one could see his anger. He saw almost everyone wearing it, even his fellow Gryffindors. He felt heat gather in his veins, scorching hot.

He strode through the hallways, intent on getting to the sixth floor to work his anger out. It wasn't to be however, thanks to someone colliding with him as he turned a corner.

"Gah watch it you bloody magicless twit!" A pale face beneath golden blond hair sneered at him, before pausing. A familiar mocking grin lit it up instead.

"Well well well… if it isn't Potter. How's it going buddy?" The condescending voice, combined with one of those fucking badges on his chest caused the heat in his veins to freeze over.

"Malfoy. I would say pretty good, but bumping into you is always enough to ruin someone's day." He stood a bit shorter than Draco, but he still talked as if he taller.

Draco lost his grin pretty quickly, replaced with a strained smirk, "Haha, so funny. Almost as funny as it's going to be watching you get slaughtered in the tasks."

"Hah. The tasks aren't going to be a problem. I've survive four years with you, I doubt all that much can be worse." Harry scoffed, dawning the familiar bravado he always did when confronted by Draco.

"Tch. Posture all you want Potter. We both know you're not ready for these tasks. Seventh years have died to these tasks before. Compared to that, you're lacking." Draco thrust his chest out, tapping his badge to change its face.

Harry stared at it uncaringly, despite the thawing heat inside him, "I could always try your route and just throw enough money at it until it disappears."

"You'd run out in a day spending money like I do. House Potter hasn't seen financial movement for years. Probably nothing left." Draco chirped with a mocking grin, always glad to banter with his nemesis.

"Once you take Headship, I doubt House Malfoy will last very long either." Harry returned the mocking grin with a crooked one, getting ready for the inevitable fight.

"Oooh, it hurts, it really does. I don't think it'll hurt quite as much as this though." Harry vaguely saw Hermione appear around the corner of his eyes, carrying books.

He didn't pay all that much attention to it since it was demanded elsewhere. He threw himself to the right, avoiding the whispered spell. He quickly tucked into a roll, sending out several confundus charms in quick succession.

All his spells were blocked by a weakening protego though, providing Harry enough time to situate himself. Draco returned fire, sending whispered spells whizzing through the air, saying some louder as he didn't have a lot of mastery with them.

Harry dodged several diffindo charms, not wanting to waste his power on shielding when he didn't need to. He willingly took some color changing charms, as well as a couple tickling ones. Harry sent out several prank spells, shattering his protego. He quickly capitalized before Draco could create another one.

He sent out two expelliarmus spells, along with an easier cantis spell. Draco noticed his use of expelliarmus and willing took his cantis spell, despite not knowing what it was.

Harry grinned as Draco burst out into song, knowing that the fight was basically over now. He quickly sent out several more charms, one of them making his feet stick to the ground. Draco landed on his butt with a thump, dizzy and disoriented.

"Well, I wonder who stinks now." Harry smirked condescendingly at Draco, walking around his stuck form, coincidentally heading in the direction that Hermione was standing at.

He noticed she was giving him a disappointed and disapproving look, as she always did when he fought Draco. He couldn't find it in himself to care anymore though.

"It's not over yet!" Harry turned around quickly at the shout, feeling something whiz by his cheek.

He heard a squeak, and watched as Draco finally fell back, too dizzy to continue. He turned back around to continue walking before he stopped. Huge teeth. Abnormally huge. Continually getting bigger.

Harry watched fascinated as Hermione's two front teeth grew to ridiculous sizes, only getting bigger with each passing second.

"Eep!" Hermione yelped, trying her best to cover her teeth with tears in her eyes. She quickly ran past him, probably heading to the nurses office.

"Pfft!" Harry bit down on his lip, knowing it would be mean to laugh at the sight of a head with huge teeth wobbling as she ran past.

He shook his head, not really concerned about her considering it was just a prank spell. That, and he was still angry at her.

He walked with a new skip to step, the fire in his veins gone, replaced with a light sensation. His day had started bad, but at least it would end nicely…

"Um… hey Harry. I'm super sorry to bother you, but the teachers told me to get you and make sure it was quick and you know I can't say no to them, but I really don't want to bother you. The Weighing of The Wands is starting in like half an hour so I was told to bring you so you don't come late and…"

Harry quickly held up his hand to get Colin to stop talking, the deluge of words pouring out at such a high speed irritating him.

"What's the Weighing of The Wands?" He hadn't been told about any additional events, only the three tasks.

Colin perked up excitedly, his mouth already shivering, "It's an event where a wandmaker comes in and makes sure all the wands are in useable conditions! It's also sort of a publicity thing where a newspaper is going to interview you!"

Harry frowned at that last statement. He had no intention of being interviewed. He had been asked for interviews before, but the people had always made him too nervous. Trying to get him to talk about parents he hadn't ever known.

"Lead the way." Harry waved his hand to signal his compliance. He had to walk quickly to keep up with Colin's excited pace, but it was no real problem.

He would just say no if anyone asked for interviews. He wasn't going to do it. He didn't want more attention from people who didn't know anything about him. That had never done him well, no reason to make it worse.

Harry stepped through the door, relieved that he wasn't the last person there. He bid Colin farewell and made his way towards the four main seats. The only other person there was Viktor, and Harry made sure to stay far away from him and his intimidating stare.

He looked around and stared at all the old photograph equipment, camera crew, teachers standing around talking to each other, Ollivander and some odd blonde woman looking at him excitedly. Harry made sure he didn't look her way again.

He sat patiently with his wand in his robe pocket. He had never really cleaned it before, but it had been in water several times. He hadn't been bothered by anything on it either, so he assumed it wasn't that bad.

He didn't really care either way though. He liked the wand. Like the way it made him feel. Didn't like that it was the brother wand to Voldemort though. It just never really seemed dirty enough to care.

He allowed himself to get partially pulled into his mind, thankfully no longer needing the wand to do so now that he had a sort of stable platform to latch onto. He didn't have the necessary skill to do everything he could while fully in his mind.

The rate of creation was 1:10 when he was partially in his head, which was bothersome. It basically meant he got no work done, but it was better than sitting in this room with nothing better to do.

He was snapped out of it as the other two Champions finally showed up, meaning he could finally get out of this place and practice his magic a bit more.

"Ah! Everyone is finally here. Sit! Sit!" The blond woman sprung into action, practically dancing in excitement at finally having everyone here.

"My oh my! All of you look so fierce. So determined. I wonder what I'll find under those tense cheeks, those narrowed fiery eyes. Just what kind of story will move my pen?!" She was practically gushing in anticipation, making all four champions lean away.

"Ahem. Welcome to the Weighing of The Wands. We won't be taking up much of your time. You can get interview by Ms. Rita here and then we'll begin. Mr. Ollivander here will simply be looking at your wands for a short period of time, nothing more. Then, we'll take some photos for the paper!"

Dumbledore waved his arm in the direction of the silver haired man, sounding amused at Rita's enthusiasm.

"Yes yes! I'll be doing some interviews! Which one of you should I start with first? Harry perhaps?" She scrunched up her lips, thinking hard, "No no no. Best for last as they say."

She ignored the twitches on the other 3 Champions as she said that, quickly hurrying Cedric away into the corner of the room. Harry was just glad he wouldn't have to deny her until the end.

Time passed quickly, the other Cedric and Fleur both coming back with red cheeks and angry scowls. He didn't want to know what Viktor would look like when he was actually angry, so he looked the other way.

"Harry Potter! I've always wanted an interview with you! I can't believe this day has finally come!" A big grin marred her pasty white face, those dark green eyes looking almost venomous.

Harry's heart beat incredibly fast, sending little tingles down his arms and making his chest tight. He really hated making spectacles. Really really hated doing it.

To embrace this sort of magic, you need a certain mindset. Someone without this mindset trying to achieve these feats will crumble. This is not for the faint of heart. Many would call these actions evil, as they are.

You must be firm, unyielding, nigh uncaring. You have to get into the mindset of doing what you want, when you want, how you want, no matter the consequences. One of the few first women I seduced were a mother and daughter.

The mother was married to a Lord, someone with vastly more influence and power than I did. I fucked them both, made them addicted to me, and he found out. He confronted me in a rage, nearly killing me for the words I spoke haughtily to him.

"I fucked your wife, then I bent your daughter over her exhausted form and fucked her too! Might as well give up on her, I doubt she'll feel a thing from your small pecker anymore."

I said those words in arrogance, feeling all powerful. I knew the consequences, knew that death likely wouldn't be far behind. But just the feeling of saying those words, of acting how I wanted, regardless of consequences.

I was beat nearly to death, and the Lord told his wife and daughter that he would have me and them hanged. They beat him to death at the mere thought of me being killed.

I was always afraid. Afraid of telling my parents, my family what I thought, what I feared. I ran. I was afraid of talking to women, not wanting to deal with their rejection. I used magic to practically enslave them.

Doing something directly, with no worries or cares about what will happen, is the greatest bliss. It is a requirement to truly mastering these sexual arts. You must adopt a mindset similar to this. You must become free. For within freedom, lies slavery.

"I'm not in the mood for an interview." He spoke those few words concisely, not stumbling or stuttering at all.

The silence that followed should have been nerve wracking, and yet… he felt like smiling. He had said no to people before, denied requests, even rebelled. They didn't feel like they counted though.

Every time he said no to someone, he would feel guilty. Denying someone what they asked of him made him nervous, not wanting them to get angry like he knew the Dursleys would. He rebelled for other people, not in his own interests.

Denying someone something they wanted of him, not feeling guilty, not even feeling all that nervous. It felt good. It felt enlightening.

'Why should I care about what she wants? The only thing that matters is what I want.' Harry stared into her suddenly cold green eyes with his own green uncaring ones.

"I'm sorry… what?" Her smile went from excited to sickly, looking almost malicious. Her eyes narrowed more than a bit, her gaze intense.

"I don't feel like doing an interview. We can move onto the wand weighing now." He leaned back into his wooden chair, feeling oddly comfortable.

"Now now my boy. The interview will be quick." Dumbledore quickly attempted to disarm the tension building in the room.

"I don't care if it'll be quick. I don't want it to happen at all." Harry fought to keep his face straight, a grin struggling to make itself known.

"I'm quite ready to do the Wand Weighing." Ollivander spoke up amusedly, a little smirk lighting up on his dull face. Those silver eyes glowing with laughter.

"Mhm. Yes, probably for the best." Maxime cut in, looking just as awkward as the rest did.

Harry kept his eyes on Rita though, wanting her to break off eye contact first. Her angry gaze was actually making him feel excited. He was actually beginning to get horny from the tense atmosphere.

"Excellent! Making sure your wands are in fighting condition is incredibly important! They will be your only tools in your perilous tasks after all!" The stocky form of Ludo Bagman, his blonde hair covering his sweaty forehead, broke the tension of the room.

The five judges along with Ollivander stepped behind a large conjured desk. Ollivander stayed standing, while the others sat. Rita reluctantly stepped into the back of the room alongside the camera crew, breaking eye contact with Harry.

Harry finally let a small smirk come on his face. His fingers began twitching with his pent up energy, eager to do something, anything. He was also beginning to feel hungry.

"Fleur Delacour." Maxime's booming voice called out to her Champion, gladly volunteering her to go first.

Fleur Delacour. Harry let his eyes linger on her for but a second as she sat up, not wanting to get caught. Silver blond hair, shining as if the sun was but a foot away from her. Glowing pale skin, glowing with health, flushing red in several places.

An aristocratic face, containing dark blue slightly narrowed eyes high cheekbones, a small button nose, thick red cupid bow lips, combined with a decently sharp jawline. Practically perfection. Her face was almost enough to distract you from her body, but Harry doubted anything could do that.

Her robes covered everything, but just the outline of it was enough. She was thin, but in a thick sort of way. Her chest was large enough to cause her robe to strain. Her waist was skinny, making the flare of her hips look all the more prominent. Her bottom was the real treasure.

It was incredibly shapely, even through the robes. Plump and heart shaped. It, combined with her allure, was enough to ensure that only those with the highest will could resist looking. Someone like him.

"Hmm. Approximately 9 ½ inches. Straight with a rounded handle, inflexible. Made of Rosewood with a… Veela hair as a core? Cleaned and polished regularly. Very good." Ollivander swished the wand, making flowers burst out.

"Mmm. Volatile, and not something I would use in my wand. Works good though." Ollivander ignored the sudden tightening in Fleurs face, handing her wand back.

"Cedric Diggory." Cedric quickly straightened up, unable to resist looking at Fleur as she passed him.

"Hmm. Approximately 12 ¼ inches. Straight, pleasantly springy. Made of Ash with a Unicorn tail hair core. I remember this one clearly. Cleaned and polished a bit too much. Good." Harry didn't pay attention to what he did with the wand, waiting for his turn.

He faintly heard, "Grigorovich! Incredible! Approximately 10 ¼ inches. Curved, rigid. Made of Hornbeam wood with a dragon heartstring core. Cleaned and polished regularly. Okay."

Harry straightened up, no longer leaning against his chair as he watched Viktors intimidating form make its way back.

"Harry Potter."

Harry got up slowly, not feeling like he needed to rush anywhere. He knew Ollivander wouldn't be too happy with his wand. He had been annoyed that it had been cleaned too much. He wondered what he would think when he saw something that was almost never cleaned.

He handed his wand over and could already see Ollivanders eyes narrowing in annoyance, "Approximately 11 inches. Straight, nice and supple. Made of Holly with a Phoenix feather core. Seems like it has not been cleaned or polished in quite a while."

Ollivander swished his wand before his hand tightened in pain. "An incredibly loyal and powerful wand. Won't even allow me to cast a single spell through it. I suppose that can only be expected from the brother wand of Voldemort's."

Harry's lips thinned at the mention of Voldemort, several people flinching in terror at the name. He hated the fact that he and Voldemort had sibling wands. He refused to get rid of his own so unless he got rid of Voldemort's, there was nothing he could do about it.

"Excellent. Picture time!" Bagman shouted out, still slightly shivering in fear at the name drop. Harry closed his eyes with a silent groan. He liked the terrified silence more.

Eight Days Later

'Disapproval, Remorse, Apprehension, Pensiveness, Fear, Sadness, Terror, Grief.' He mentally labeled the smaller campfires around him.

He had only been able to create 8 campfires in the eight days he had, which was pretty good considering his speed just a few days before. He would probably be able to get a few more in the four days he had until the first task, but these would be important.

He went through the process of linking those specific emotions to their campfires. Disapproval, for the path he was going down. He watched as the campfire lit up, sticks of wood quickly appearing inside of fire, signifying his level of disapproval.

Remorse, for the horrible things he was about to do. Apprehension, for the tournament and his future actions. Pensiveness, for his thoughts of stopping. Fear, for the possibility of being caught, maybe dying to the tasks. Sadness, for the friends that he wasn't sure he wanted back.

Terror, for the threat of Voldemort and the tasks. Grief, for the loss of his family, for the loss of friends, for the betrayal.

He watched as each of them lit up, feeling every single one welling up inside of him now that he acknowledged them. He mentally commanded all the sticks to rise, watching as they slowly floated upwards.

He tossed them into the bonfire with hazy eyes, watching them slowly become ash, his chest lightening, the feelings raging inside of him gone. It left him blissfully empty besides the handful of other, lesser, emotions he felt.

He stared with determined eyes, positive that he was doing the right thing. He wasn't unsure anymore. The path he was going down was the one he was going to walk. Regardless of others thoughts.

He would win the tournament. That would get him popular again, he was sure of it. With his popularity restored… it created more opportunities to get close to girls. Gloria putridis. The name of the spell that would begin his vile acts.

It fit, Corrupting Touch.

Four Days Later

Harry slowly walked towards the Champions tent where the first task would be explained. He could hear the yelps of a huge creature, though he wasn't sure what it was. The stadium was large enough that he couldn't see it, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

He reflected over all the changes that had occurred since he first became a champion. Almost a full month, and he had already noticed very nice improvements to his body. He still only stood at 5' 4", but the growth rate was incredibly promising.

He was positive he would be over 6' by the time the 4 months were over. All the food he had been consuming had really shown, making his body become stocky. He had never had a flab of fat on his stomach before, so it was interesting to experience.

He was eagerly awaiting the two month line, where his body would begin using that fat and converting it to muscle. His arms and chest had already begun to show some definition, but it was only a little amount.

His penis had grown a couple centimeters in length, and increased in girth, which was awesome. He didn't really know what the average penis size was, but he was happy nonetheless. None of the hair on his body besides the top of his head had any hair though.

Cleaning his bed of his hairs wasn't really his way of starting the morning, but thankfully magic made that easier. Besides that, his glasses had begun to get a bit blurry as his eyesight had gotten better.

He hadn't known that was an effect, since it didn't state it anywhere in the book. His ancestor had perfect eyesight though, so he guessed he hadn't been affected by it like he had.

His mental magic was his greatest improvement though. Not only could he interact with the campfires without going into his mind fully, he had even managed to build a few more of them.

Determination, Aggressiveness, Dominance, Vigilance, and Optimism. Now, he could transfer sticks of his other emotions into those. He hadn't know why the second and third was so important to his ancestor, but decided they couldn't hurt.

His regular magic was getting much better. His skill in imagination and memory recall was getting much better now that he could get rid of distractions like his negative emotions. He hadn't focused on learning any new spells, merely focusing on getting better with his existing ones.

His persistence with it had shown through though. He could speak most of his spells with but a whisper, barely concentrating. It had taken many days. He had even had to deny Hagrid's attempt to hang out. He had felt pretty bad about that before he washed it away.

He walked through the flap of the tent, seeing the other competitors pacing as Bagman sat there excitedly, a sack in his hand. The moment he walked in, the other Champions looked at him.

Fleur had a calm face, yet full of apprehension. Viktors face was set like stone, the only sign of worry was the crease of his eyebrows. Cedric was full on panic though, his lips twisting in fear.

"Ah! There's the final Champion! Looking good Harry!" With a boisterous grin and an excited shout, it almost didn't feel oppressive in the tent.

Harry kept his face straight as he regarded his competition. He had no idea what the first task was, but he was determined to win it. He felt his body tighten in anticipation, the sticks in his fires quickly gathering.

"Alright! The first task is upon us! You may be wondering what it is. And i'll tell you. But first… you gotta reach into my bag. Ladies First!" Bagman grinned flirtatiously at Fleur, only getting a look of contempt for her.

Harry watched as she swayed towards the bag, already feeling his tension draining away. Nothing could remain worried when it had his view.

"A Common Welsh Green! Lucky pick Ms. Delacour! Number 2!" A fucking dragon. Why was a miniature fucking dragon in Fleur's hands?!

Harry quickly dumped every emotion that wouldn't help him into the ones that would. He rapidly felt himself calm, feeling incredibly confident.

"Mister Diggory, if you would!" A shaking Cedric passed by a calm Fleur. A pale, calm Fleur, but calm nonetheless.

It set off Harry immediately. His calm was unnatural, forced. Hers was a steely resolve, born from foreknowledge.

"A Swedish Short Snout hmm! Number 1!" Cedric shakily held the miniature dragon, watching as it struggle to get free from his hands.

"Mister Krum!" Viktor walked with purpose, no longer looking afraid. The slight shake in his fingers gave him away though, especially to Harry's extra vigilant eye.

"Chinese Fireball! Probably the smallest one of the lot. Number 3!" Viktor calmly palmed his dragon, quickly sitting and plotting.

"Harry Potter." Bagman looked at him sadly, looking incredibly disappointed. Not in Harry, but for Harry. For some reason.

Harry calmly strode up towards the bag, his unnatural confidence drawing the other Champions eyes. Harry put his arm into the bag, snatching up the squirming dragon with a quick hand.

"Hungarian Horntail. Number 4." Bagman practically whispered the name, sending fear shooting down his spine.

"The most dangerous of the lot by far. Very tough luck. Welp!" Bagman quickly perked up and Harry took the small pause to resort his emotions once more.

"Your goal is to retrieve the Golden Egg. Nothing more, nothing less. There will indeed be a dragon guarding it, but you are not required to fight it, merely get the egg. You'll go out according to the orders of your number. You have 10 minutes to prepare yourselves accordingly. You will be judged based on your performance."

Bagman quickly made his way out, though he gave Harry an imploring stare. Harry twitched under his gaze, not sure why he was so interested in him.

"Did you all know?" Harry barely heard Cedric's whispered question as he sat down on the couch next to Fleur.

"About the dragons? Yes, my headmaster told me." Viktors heavy accent cut through the suddenly tense room, making Cedric stiffen.

"Mine as well." Fleurs voice was no less accented, but contained much less strength withing it. It only made Cedric seem angrier.

"Nope." My answer came out in a bored type of way, mostly because I was busy coming up with several plans. Not knowing the terrain of the task was hindering that a bit though.

"'Nope'? Are you really going to sit there all calm and act like you didn't know?!" He had never seen Cedric angry before, but he couldn't say he was impressed.

He didn't know whether it was the dominance and aggressiveness roaring inside of him, or a general lack of fear, but he coudn't even begin to feel intimidated by the fair skinned boys snarl.

"It's just a dragon. We don't even have to fight it." My condescending words only seemed to set him off more, but I ws too busy shoveling sticks into different campfires to pay attention.

"Hmm. What's your plan?" Fleurs velvety, quiet voice seemed to almost whisper into my ear. The smell of jasmine nearly clogged my senses. I knew she was just trying to get an edge over me, but it didn't really matter one way or the other.

"Don't have one. I don't know the terrain of the place, so there's no point in really making one at the moment." My blunt answer caught her off guard, but it helped me figure something out.

Fleur seemed to have a plan, as did Viktor. Cedric was busy trying to calm down. The first two had a plan. Not knowing the terrain, making a plan with it was faulty. That meant they were going to do something to the dragon.

He was positive that the judges would give higher ratings for the more elaborate and skilled performances. That meant he would have to do whatever he was planning perfectly if he intended to win. He didn't have anything super skillful besides his Patronus, nor anything super elaborate.

"Cedric Diggory! You're up!" Bagman burst into the tent, waking Cedric up from his panicked trance. It only made it worse though, Cedric practically exploding with nerves.

It was understandable though, considering he was going to be face to face with a dragon. One of the deadliest creatures in the world. Without a single hour of planning time. He was probably fucked and he knew it.

His fear would prevent him from recalling the best option, make him panic and mess up. Harry knew that feeling well. He leaned back into the couch further, sighing in comfort. Putting all his focus into manipulating his emotions was tiring work.

"Harry! You're up!" Harry's dazzling green eyes snapped open, showing no fear or apprehension, looking almost angry and bored.

His negative emotions had been building up so much that he had been forced to pile it up into his aggression and dominance, the others getting almost too full.

"Now listen closely Harry. The Hungarian is one of the most aggressive dragons. It will try to crush you under its limbs, try to take bites out of you. It doesn't bother with fire much unless you hide from it a lot.

Just try to confuse it, get the egg and get out. That'll give you the best chance of completing your task. Aim for at least second or third. Krum did pretty well, but he fucked a bit. Fleur wasn't as impressive, but she got the egg. Cedric participated. Just do better than him! Good luck!

Bagman quickly pushed him into the tunnel leading to the stadium, giving him pretty decent advice. He wasn't sure why he was helping him, just hoped he didn't try to ask him for something in return.

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

"Potter Stinks!"

Harry felt his nose twitch, the roars of the crowd riling him nice and good. Fuck second or third, he was going to get first for sure.

He took notice of all the moss covered rocks, several boulders and hiding spots quickly outlining themselves. Several spell came to mind that would become distractions, hiding wouldn't be all the hard.

"And the fourth and final competitor! Harry Potter!" His name was announced with a lot of pizzas, only getting boos.

Harry ignored it all though, knowing that the task had started the moment he stepping into the stadium. The sound drowned from the world, only the rough growls and breathing of the incredible creature on the opposite side of him drifting through his ears.

It was huge, easily as big as the basilisk he had fought in his second year, but not as long. It had a chain around its neck, thick with runes. Its golden eyes stared balefully at him, as if to blame him for its current situation.

A bunch of eggs laid left to it, all of them surrounding a bigger, golden, egg. Harry spotted several tunnels in the ground that he could use to get right next to them.

"Fumos duo." Harry aimed his wand to the right of the Horntail, shooting out thick black red smoke out of the tip of his wand. He poured a ton of power into it, cause it to cover the entire right side of the stadium and, coincidentally, the tunnels under it.

The Horntail quickly took action once he disappeared inside of the smoke, staying sort of close to its eggs, but smashing its tail and jaws all around. Harry had jumped into the tunnel though, avoiding its rage.

"RAAAGH!" The vibrations from the guttural roar shook the entire stadium, making several students cover their ears in pain.

"Feteo." Harry cast a prank smell, making the entire area smell like rotten eggs and dirty feet. That would keep the dragons powerful nose from smelling him. The roars he heard clearly signified its rage at the smell, as well as the shaking rocks above him.

"Rrrrr." The deep growls would have made the hair on Harry's body raise, if he had any.

"Fortis Sensus." Harry quickly pinched his nose and cast the supersensory charm. He could now see, if barely, through the smoke. The smell was nearly debilitating though.

Harry cast the smokescreen spell once more, feeling his magic drain to around ¾ already from overpowering the spell so much. He quickly made his ways through the tunnels, ignoring the dragon.

He finally came upon the outcropping where the eggs were held. He could barely see the golden egg, covered in thick smoke, right next to the rampaging dragon, but his supersensory charm allowed him to see the supernatural glint of it.

"Waddiwasi." Harry quickly imagined gum shooting out of his wand, making sure that a piece of it was stuck to his wand upon exit.

He fired it at the egg, successfully hitting it. The gum was basically at a hair's width now though, and wouldn't be able to pull itself and the egg back in.

"Duro." He cast the hardening charm on it, making it hard as stone. Unable to bend it or call it back now, he quickly ran back into the tunnel, making sure he was far enough so the egg would be securely inside of the tunnel. Once the egg was resting at the edge of the tunnel, he cast a finite on both spells, leaving just the egg.

Harry quickly grabbed it, and walked out into the thinning smoke, making sure he looked as calm and unbothered as possible. He ignored the dragon rampaging in the smoke behind him, feeling the heat of the flames it was spewing.

He walked slowly to the exit, since he knew he had to see the nurse. It was mandatory for an even like this. He wouldn't get his score for a while anyway.

As he walked through the tunnel out of the stadium, hearing the confused voices following him, he couldn't help but grin. He had meant what he said to Cedric. They didn't need to fight the dragon, just get the egg. Even a few slightly useful spells and some prank spells could get the job done. You just had to be smart and calm about it.

Most of the trouble that the competitors had during that challenge was their fear. Fleur easily breezed past the first trial, putting it to sleep and taking the egg, only getting a bit of fire on her due to the dragon snoring. Even Krum didn't have that much trouble and he attacked it. Cedric just distracted it with transfiguration. It had been meant to show off the danger they would face, but it was pretty underwhelming. Harry had been the one in the most danger, mostly because he decided to try and out fly a fucking dragon. Badass, but not at all smart. Unable to see or smell anything, it wouldn't be hard to yoink it, even with a prank spell and a lower level charm. I personally found most of the tasks pretty underwhelming, especially since they were designed for seventh years. The third task was probably the best, actually pushing Harry further than he could go. Canon Harry. With creativity, it isn't hard to get through these tasks, even if they don't know about it beforehand. The only one you really have to prepare for is the second one, and only because it's underwater. The porn aspect of this may not happen for a little bit longer, but once it happens, it'll really pick up speed, consuming most of the story probably.