Time flew by quickly, with little happening that was of interest to Chad. Other than minor annoyances, things were pretty much normal, well, as normal as a magical school for children could get.

Arielle Aumont had continued to pester him excessively, so much so, that he had prodded Hermione and her fan club into action. They had strict non-interference rules that dealt with situations like this.

Safe to say, the proud French witch paid no heed to their warnings of following the 'Harry Potter Fan Club' rules. That was until she had nearly every witch in Hogwarts pelting her with stinging hexes every time her back was turned.

It only took two days for her to admit defeat, join the fan club, and insert herself in a position adjacent to Hermione.

Even the other Beauxbaton witches that had held off approaching Harry Potter because of Arielle's social hierarchy, and the threats associated with her influence, had joined the fan club for the benefits.

Now that they no longer had to fear retribution from Arielle, they had eagerly joined the group that had many profile pictures of the pretty boy that had filled their dreams.

Honestly, Chad could only blame the medieval mindset of the wizarding world that would see seventeen-year-old girls l.u.s.ting after a thirteen-year-old boy. Though admittedly, his new height made him pass for an older student, so maybe that helped them see past his young age.

Either way, keeping his distance from girls in school was much less problematic than if he just gave in and started banging them all. As enjoyable as that would be, having multiple pure-blood parents after him with marriage contracts for 'deflowering' their daughters would be troublesome.

Not to mention the emotional baggage that would come from all the catfights involved with him having numerous s.e.x.u.a.l escapades. The amount of mind magic he would have to throw around would leave way too much evidence that could be traced back to him.

He didn't want to be exposed as 'Dark' before his grip on the wizarding world was complete. Or near enough that it wouldn't matter.

With his women problems solved, for now, the only other thing irking him was that Ronald Weasley's bravado was back in full force. Hell, it had even stepped up a notch with Gryffindor supporting him.

Any guilt that Chad had felt for entering him a potentially lethal competition evaporated like a forty-year-old, still unmarried woman's dreams of romance. The kid had no sense of self-awareness at all.

At the Weighing of the Wands, Rita Skeeter had interviewed all the contestants properly since she was now a legit journalist instead of a gossip columnist.

Since there was now four competitors in a tournament explicitly name for three, she had asked Ron if he was worried about the selection error or that his young age would put him at a disadvantage.

"Course not, us Gryffindors are fearless! Besides, I can't let Hogwarts be represented by a slimy snake!"

Safe to say, that fearlessness only lasted up until he received a letter from his dragon-handler brother.

Skeeter had then asked McGonagall what school was listed on Ron's application into the Goblet of Fire, considering the boy had just claimed to be representing Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid I don't remember." Came her obviously fake reply, her eyes not able to meet Rita's.

"I see, then I'm afraid I will have to inform the people that you have violated the trust of those that entered the Triwizard Competition by cheating and purposely interfering with a magical contract."

"What, I did no such thing!"

"So you did not purposely omit the name of the red-headed boy's listed school? The goblet chooses participants from each school, for there to be a fourth, a fourth school must have been entered. This is your last chance to not be branded a cheat and a liar!" Skeeter bullied the usually stern and rule-abiding woman with public character assassination.

McGonagall muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that." Skeeter prompted.

"I said Dumbledore's School of Boy Toys!" The now angered woman ultimately admitted.

With that exasperated admission, some of her fierce Scottish nature finally showed through the meek personality that had been prevalent until now.

Whether it was a side effect of Dumbledore's conditioning or her finally getting a backbone was uncertain, but it was enough for Rita to back off. She had what she wanted anyway.

The morning paper once again caused the Dining Hall of Hogwarts to erupt into frantic gossip. Chad took great delight in seeing Ron's face turn redder than his hair from either embarrassment or rage, he cared not which one, they were both equally hilarious.

With Ron knocked down a peg or ten, things got back to normality.

Hogsmeade weekend came and went, with Chad having to 'sacrifice' half of it at the Three Broomsticks, entertaining the ten lucky witches other than Hermione and Arielle that had won the right amongst their fan club for a 'date'. Small allowances to keep the romantic situation under control was tolerable if it brought him peace.

But the day Chad was eagerly awaiting had finally arrived, it was the day of the first task! And boy was he conflicted over it.

On the one hand, he couldn't wait to see Ron and the French ponce humiliated, but on the other, Ron was most likely going to be maimed and/or killed! It was almost guaranteed.

Unlike canon Harry, Ron did not have a fast racing broom to summon if he had managed to learn to do so, nor did he have any outstanding skills to utilise. Unless his brother had been training him in how to deal with dragons, the insult 'Fire Crotch' that Malfoy had been calling him, would become a reality.

After lunch, the crowd had assembled in the arena set up to witness the first task, and Ludo Bagman introduced how the champions would compete. Spoiler alert, it involved stealing a golden egg from a nesting mother.

What interested Chad however was the order the champions would compete, and the dragons they would face. Turns out, Bagman was only too happy to tell everyone.

Viktor Krum - Swedish Short-Snout.

Miles Bletchley - Common Welsh Green.

Ronald Weasley - Chinese Fireball.

Lâche Couture - Hungarian Horntail.

Chad felt he may have jinxed the poor Weasley reject with all the talk of being engulfed in fire. The Chinese Fireball was notorious for the sizeable mushroom-shaped flame it shoots from its mouth when angered.

Luckily for Ron, it was more tolerant than other dragons.

Unfortunately for Ron, it was only tolerant of its own kind, it was rather aggressive to everything else.

Viktor Krum was first up and used the Conjunctivitis Curse to blind the dragon and retrieve his egg just like he would have done a year later in canon.

Though since the Short-Snout had a scorching fiery breath, it was a closer call than when he had faced the Chinese Fireball, finishing with singed clothes and the slight smell of burnt hair.

Miles Bletchley had used much the same tactic, but being a Quidditch player himself, he had chosen to transfigure five large birds to distract the Welsh Green while he retrieved his egg with a summoned broom. It was strange that Krum didn't think to do the same.

Finally, with great anticipation, Chad watched as Ronald Weasley stumbled out of the champion's tent as though his legs were made of jelly. He had to give the annoying boy some credit, he had actually turned up to face a dragon, and that took a certain amount of bravery.

The red-head jogged quickly to just out of the Chinese Fireball's range, took out his tattered wand, and cast something Chad was surprised he knew. A fourth-year spell, the Summoning Charm.

"Accio Sleeping Draught!" Yelled Ron.

He had pointed his wand at the dragon keepers standing off to the side, ready to jump in to restrain the dragon if something went wrong. How he knew that they had a vial each of the potion, was a 'mystery'.

It was almost as though he knew that's what they had used to transport the dragons into the country in the first place. That they always kept it on hand in case of emergencies!

What a coincidence!

Still, however he found out, it was clear he was new to using the Summoning Charm since instead of one vial of potion, he had somehow managed to make five of them fly towards him at speed.

Catching one of them and doing his best to dodge the others, he was still hit in the face by two of them. But luckily for him, the vials were spelled to be unbreakable. Otherwise, he might have put himself to sleep if they had broken.

Chad was disappointed to see that Ron would now pass the first task effortlessly, but at least he got a giggle out of watching him being smacked in the face. His curse of pain was still audible to the crowd, even though he was so far away.

Ron then used a bit of basic spell work and his snowball fighting skills to make balls of mud, dose them with the potion, and then banish them at the dragon's face.

Two mudballs missed, but three others went down the beast's throat after it roared from copping one in the eye. With the extra potions on hand, Ron didn't need to be too worried about accuracy, but surprisingly, he did quite well.

Nearly immediately, the pissed-off dragon quieted down and then collapsed to the ground. Ron gave a whoop of joy, and conscious that he was being timed, made a mad dash for the golden egg.

Like most predators, dragons had a low cunning, they needed too if they wanted to survive in the wild. Even a dragon bred in captivity knew a few tricks since many dragon keepers were injured, crippled or killed on the job.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Charlie Weasley had failed to make his brother aware of this. A ball of fire was spat at him when he was in range, before the dragon finally slumped to the ground once again, fully asleep this time.

In his eagerness to get a faster time, Ron had run straight into the trap. Though it seems his 'idiot's luck' had held true once again since the Mumma Dragon had been barely conscious when it made its final attack to protect her clutch of eggs.

The fireball had lost most of its usual power than if the dragon was at full strength. Though even drastically reduced in power, it still managed to set his robes and hair on fire.

Ron ran around like a mad man. Primal fear had hijacked his sense of reason and caused him to yell and scream instead of instantly removing his clothes. Or use magic.

Chad couldn't help but think of a video he saw before being sent to this world as he watched Ron run around in fear. It was just like the BLM rioter that had his shoes catch fire.

Instead of kicking them off, he ran around like a lunatic, his body's reflexes sending him mixed signals that didn't help at all. How the hell was lifting your knees up as high as you could protect you from your feet on fire?

The other rioters around him were not much better, trying to stomp on him to put it out. Fight or flight reflexes were supposed to keep a person alive, but since we had lived such sheltered lives, they ended up just overwriting reason and causing us harm.

Finally, in his mad struggles, Ron had somehow managed to tear his robes off in his panic. The hushed crowd that had thought him in danger couldn't help but burst out laughing now they knew he was going to be okay.

Chad couldn't help burst out into laughter himself as he looked at the youngest Weasley male standing there in his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r, completely bald.

"Someone must have cast a General Ackbar Curse on him, cause he just walked into a trap and turned into a bald, red humanoid!" He joked aloud.

Unfortunately, there were no muggle-borns around to get the reference.

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