He had come across the tournament in 'Hogwarts: A History', and could say without a doubt that it was an excellent way of killing someone. Malfoy would never let him live it down if he ended up getting killed by a sphinx as all three champions in the Tournament of 1654 had been. Although to be fair, he had to be alive for Draco to make fun of him, so that wasn't exactly true.
"A more specific set of rules and terms on the Triwizard Tournament will be announced once the delegations arrive in October. I must warn you against entering, as once you have been entered, you have sealed a magical contract. But that time is in a month, and the time right now is for sleeping. Head to bed, students, and rest well for tomorrow, your first full day of school! Off you trot!"
The Great Hall rose as a whole, with Harry and the other fourth year Gryffindors leading the way to the Gryffindor common room.
"Well!" started Seamus excitedly, "Triwizard Tournament, eh? Anyone up for it?"
"I sure am! Imagine it, eternal glory!" Ron sighed with longing.
"It won't be eternal." said Hermione harshly, "The Tournament was one of the most famous events in the magical world during the period it was held, and that was because all the champions kept dying!"
"Something worth winning then, isn't it!" argued Dean.
"It isn't winning, it's glorified suicide!"
Harry did have to admit that he agreed with Hermione on this one, and from the looks on Neville's face, he did as well.
"It wouldn't be the first time we've done dangerous things, Hermione! The three of us - " Ron indicated to himself, Harry and Hermione. " - always end up in dangerous stuff, I bet I've got loads of experience by now."
"Your experience consists of being strangled by a plant, getting knocked out by a giant chess piece, getting bitten by a two-week old dragon, and later a dog, and having to move a giant pile of rocks out of the way!" argued Hermione, seemingly growing slightly annoyed by this point.
Ron shrugged. "Still something, init? Besides, we were saving the Sorcerer's Stone, fighting the basilisk to save my sister, and fighting those dementors for Snuffles."
"We, Ronald?" asked Hermione.
"You know what I mean."
Hermione huffed, allowing for the group to be completely silent. They had never truly heard what had happened to the 'Golden Trio' throughout their yearly adventures, except for perhaps what Dumbledore had informed them, which wasn't much.
"But imagine, for a second." continued Ron, turning to the fourth year males, "You're laying on the beach, a thousand galleons in your pant pocket, maybe a Veela giving you a massage - "
"If you thought about your education half as much as you did Veela, you'd be beating me in all our subjects!" hissed Hermione with hostility.
Ron turned to Seamus and Dean, who both shrugged.
"I'm not going to enter." said Harry, "Hermione's right; it's essentially a death trap. And besides, a thousand galleons isn't all that much."
"It might not seem like much for you," said Ron, glaring at the emerald eyed boy, "But it's like a fortune. Besides, with eternal glory, that'll just be the beginning."
"I don't think that's how eternal glory works, Ron." said Neville shyly.
Ron ignored everyone for the rest of the walk back to the tower, choosing to mutter darkly to himself.
....
Harry quietly shifted his weight under the Invisibility Cloak as he departed from his shared dormitory. With him was his wand and the Marauder's Map, both of which were held carefully in his hands. He made it through the common room (ignoring the two sixth years who were snogging half naked on the couch) and quickly towards the portrait hole.
It wasn't the first time those two had been at it on that particular couch. One of the down sides of the Marauder's Map was that it showed where everyone was by tracking their footprints. It wasn't all too hard to figure out what it meant when a pair of footprints were around another pair. Harry had been avoiding that couch for nearly half a year now.
He pushed past the portrait hole quietly so that the two sixth years wouldn't notice, shutting it with equal silence behind him. The Fat Lady looked around in confusion, but Harry was long gone, and still under his cloak.
Harry silently made his way down the stairs and towards the second floor girl's toilet. He was slightly curious (and equally concerned) as to why Salazar Slytherin would have the entrance of his fabled chamber in a girl's bathroom, although Harry doubted something such as plumbing even existed back then. He was more suspicious of how Voldemort had found it. Moaning Myrtle had not haunted the bathroom at the time young Tom Riddle had found it, it would have still been used by other students.
Harry preferred not to think about that.
He eventually made it to the bathroom after nearly running into both Peeves and Filch. Harry was thankful the Auror guard had not yet arrived; although he would be damn near impossible to find under the Peverell Cloak, he wouldn't be if he accidentally walked into someone. Besides, Dumbledore had managed to find Harry under it, although Harry had a feeling he knew how. Invisible though he might be, he was still just as easy to hear as any other.
As he entered the bathroom, Harry subconsciously pulled the cloak off, walking toward the bathroom sinks.
"I was wondering when you'd come back to visit." said a voice from his left side.
Harry turned to find the ghostly body of one Moaning Myrtle floating towards him. She looked just as she had a little more than a year ago, when Harry had last seen her. Her eyes, however, showed Harry just how upset the ghost had been with Harry's lack of visitations. It surprised him a great deal, to the point where he genuinely felt guilty.
"Sorry, Myrtle, but it is rather hard you know, sneaking into a girl's bathroom, even if it is out of order . . ."
She nodded dejectedly, before turning to look at the entrance to the chamber.
"I suppose you're trying to go back there, aren't you?" she asked.
"I am."
The ghost beamed happily at him.
"You saved me from the Basilisk. It was a rather good thing you did, you know. I'd love to have a visitor who isn't as horrible as the others."
For a moment Harry contemplated reminding Myrtle that she was already dead, but quickly decided against it.
Instead, Harry walked to the snake-marked tap, and said, "Open."
"It doesn't work in English, you know." Myrtle said helpfully from the side of the bathroom.
"Yeah, I figured that much out on my own." said Harry in an annoyed tone.
.....
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