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That night, many muggles would go on to experience terrifying "hallucinations," varying from being swarmed by hellhounds to getting sexually propositioned by zombies.
Some would also report the Grim Reaper himself cackling nearby, clad in a black cloak with a spear rather than a scythe.
All of these accusations wouldn't be taken seriously of course, classified as people getting a little too drunk at Halloween parties, and that was exactly what Harry had wanted.
The morning afterwards he awoke rather late, having only gotten to bed in the early hours of the morning. Entering Diagon Alley, he suddenly paused as Loki said, 'Stop,' just as he passed a store selling newspapers. 'I think I may have found the source of last night's magical pull.'
Harry stared at the headline of the Daily Prophet, fighting down the maelstrom of emotion that had just formed within him. 'I think I agree.'
Upon the front of the news paper read: Does the Boy-Who-Lived still live? Harry Potter selected for Tri-Wizard Tournament.
A few minutes later Harry was back in his room, reading the paper as fast as possible. It detailed how the night before four champions instead of three had been chosen for the Tri-Wizard tournament, one of them being him.
'How the hell has this happened, Loki?'
'I don't have a bloody clue,' hissed Loki, 'It obviously wasn't us who entered, but who has the power to enter us into a contest that takes our magic if we don't compete? They would have to use a conduit like….'
'What?' Harry demanded.
'Blood.' Loki's tone held a sense of condemnation that Harry most certainly didn't like. 'Blood would work, but not any blood produced since I have inhabited you, which would be the only type the wizards would possess anyway. Asgardian and Jotun blood is too powerful to use in a vow or contract-like ritual, so it would just be mortal blood.' Loki frowned. 'I estimate that it has the potential to rip any mortal magic from your body.'
For a few seconds Harry was silent. Wizard magic was the most vital part of his power. Losing it was simply not an option. 'So I guess we're competing now.'
'Fear not. It could have been much worse if our enemies had been smart enough to enter us into a contract that wasn't a contest designed for children,' Loki sneered.
'Nonetheless, I will ward us so that it does not happen again – not that our mysterious foe will be able to do anything like this again after our wrath has been imparted upon them, and their body is too mangled to bury.' He hummed thoughtfully.
'I suppose your true identity was going to have to interact with the world at some point, and why not upon a stage where you can demonstrate just how powerful you are to these mortals?'
Harry grinned at Loki's tone. Perhaps - and that was only perhaps - this might be a good thing. 'Would this be an appropriate time to cackle?'
'Yes.'
'Manically?'
'Most definitely.'
Albus Dumbledore was more confused, surprised, and – dare he say it – scared than he had been in years. These feelings were not rivalled by even the events that had occurred in the previous few schools years.
Quirrel's attempt at stealing the Philosopher's Stone had been rather pathetic, given the fact he had kept the real one in his pocket the whole time.
A Basilisk roaming the school?
Not a problem.
It wasn't difficult for one of his resources and ability to find a way into the Chamber of Secrets.
Sirius Black's rage about him managing to lose Harry had been much scarier than the fact he had been in the school in the first place, even if Dumbledore knew that the man was no match for him in combat.
No. This turmoil boiling within his gut was almost equivalent to the terror he had felt when he first sensed the fall of the blood wards around Privet Drive.
With no sign of Harry Potter, and the Hogwarts letter leading to an empty room – surely a mistake – he had assumed the boy dead. If he was dead, however, his name wouldn't have came out the Goblet of Fire.
Harry Potter being alive was arguably worse than him being dead. Who knew where the boy was? The Hogwarts letter would have found his real address if he hadn't been hidden behind a ward, so he had to be with a witch or wizard.
This was the source of Dumbledore's horror. No ally of his would hide the boy from him, so it was likely the child was with a dark-orientated family.
Who knew what fate had befallen the boy there? Torture? Or perhaps being raised to be a follower of Voldemort? At this point, he didn't know what was worse.
Nonetheless, Dumbledore felt immense relief at the fact the Boy-Who-Lived continued to live – and that disgusted him.
How far had he fallen that he would wish even the chance of torture upon a child if it meant the Chosen One continued to live?
It was for the good of the wizarding world, he assured himself, but that only magnified the disgust as he was reminded that had been the motive of both Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort.
Whatever Dumbledore thought, it didn't matter, for Harry Potter would be forced to come to Hogwarts by the magic of the tournament, and who knew what awaited him there?
After all, someone, had to have put his name in the Goblet of Fire, and Dumbledore only knew of one man – one abomination – with the motivation, knowledge, and power to do it.
And if he still lived, the prophecy was still in motion.
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