Disclaimer is in chapter 1.

Ronald Bilius Weasley was having a bad day.

His best mate somehow snuck his name into the Goblet without telling him, a snake Ron had thought might be sort of ok called him stupid, and damn it no one argued! Not even himself. Ron growled as he pushed pass the portrait, into the common room, and looked around.

The Gryff's present seemed to be waiting for something.

"What are you lot all doing here?" He muttered, glaring at the crowd that seemed to be filling every square foot of space available. He'd have to push through half a dozen people just to get to the stairs.

"What do you think, Ronnie?" Fred… or was it George? Said.

"We're here to greet our champion," George, or maybe Fred, continued in a swoon.

Ron grimaced as one twin caught the other, earning chuckles and giggles from the rest. "Harry's gonna go spar if you lot all jump him, you know that right?"

Soft murmurs began after he said that, and finally Katie Bell spoke up. "He's right, and you all know it. Alright, everyone, back away from the door a bit and let's clear some room."

Ron watched the motions for a bit, then just sighed and pushed his way through to the stairs where he headed up to his room.

When Harry walked in later he was, predictably, overwhelmed by the sudden press of people that rushed in on him despite the best efforts of the Twins, Angelina, and Katie. A few congratulations were quickly followed by inquiries that rapidly became demands to know how he had gotten his name through the protections.

"Are you all mental!?" Harry blew, pushing people back from the sheer force of his exclamation. "Put my name in? I didn't!"

Some of the more polite scoffed quietly, but not all were that restrained.

"Right, Potter." Cormac McLaggen said loud enough to echo, "Do we look stupid to you? You're just in this for the glory like every year."

Harry shot him a deadly look, but managed to fight down the urge to yell some more. "Believe what you want. I don't want any more to do with this stupid tournament than I want to do with you."

With that he pushed his way up the stairs, heading for his own room.

When he got there, Ron was laid out on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey Mate." Harry said tiredly, slumping on his bed.

"Hey." Ron said.

Harry was silent as he tried to process the events of the day, too stunned by everything to really let it settle. How was he supposed to get through something like the TriWizard? Hell, the only special spell he had in his corner was the Patronus and it wasn't like that was likely to be much use.

He was surprised when Ron spoke up again, startling him out of his worry.

"How'd you do it?"

"What?" Harry blinked, not understanding.

"Put your name in." Ron said, "Even the twins couldn't get past the age line."

"I didn't."

"Of course." Ron said quietly, then was quiet for a while. "You could have told me, you know."

"Told you what?" Harry shook his head, still completely lost.

"How you got past the line."

"I didn't!" Harry shouted, "Bloody Hell, Ron! Do you think I'm completely daft or something? What possible reason would I have to put my name in to this insanity!?"

"The glory and the prize…"

"Prize!? Glory!? Damn it, Ron!" Harry blasted, glaring over at his friend. "What do I need with either!?"

Ron snorted, "Yeah, good point. Must be nice being rich and famous."

"Stuff it, Ron." Harry growled, kicking out of his bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you and the rest of the lot in this tower."

Xander was once again in the Room of Requirement, having set it in the research lab form that he had taken a liking too. In fact, he was already planning on recreating it when he got back home. This time, however, he was sitting at a drafting board as he sketched out a concept he was working with while trying to devise the arithmantic formula to make it happen.

He was so caught up in his work that he missed the door opening and someone coming in until Harry's voice echoed behind him.

"Cripes, Xan, what is that?"

Xander twisted, his Ollivander wand dropping into his hand on reflex before he recognized Harry. He stopped, then let out a breath, "Jesus, Harry. Don't DO that!"

"Sorry," Harry said sincerely. He hated it when people snuck up on him too, "I didn't mean to."

Xander shook his head, feeling his heartbeat calm down. "It's alright, I shouldn't have been so absorbed anyway."

"What is it?" Harry asked, cringing as he looked at the math Xander was working on. "That's the longest string of numbers I've ever seen."

Xander laughed, shaking his head, "Just working on a bit of spell creation. It's only a concept right now, which is why the formula looks so messy."

"You're making your own spells?" Harry asked, jaw dropping. "Brilliant."

"Not hardly," Xander sighed, "It's a damn mess. I've got an idea, but turning it into a real spell is really complicated. First you have to describe the spell, arithmantically."

"That's where you get the insanely long string of numbers, I suppose."

"That's only for one part of the spell, I've got three insanely long strings of numbers to put together."

"Bloody hell."

"Pretty much," Xander said, pushing away from the drafting board, "anyway, what brings you down here?"

"I needed to get out of Gryffindor tower," Harry confessed. "Half them are congratulating me on sneaking my name in, the other half are angry I didn't tell them how to do it."

Xander shrugged, "You're surprised? They're just thinking about what they would have done, that's all. They don't know you, mate, the school doesn't know you. You've spent three years hiding."

"Oi! I have not!" Harry objected.

"Name one time, other than Quidditch, that you've stepped up and let anyone know you… without someone trying to kill you first," Xander smirked.

Harry scowled at him, "Shove off."

"Truth hurts, don't it?" Xander said. "Look, I'm not the one to talk to about this junk anyway. Have you tried calling Sirius? Or maybe using your copy of the Grimoire? Mrs. Malfoy can help you with that whole 'act like a stuck-up lord' thing."

Harry glared at Xander as the other boy grinned back, then finally sighed and shook his head. "No I haven't. I'll talk to them tonight, if I can."

"Good. So what are you going to do?"

"About what?"

"About the tournament, twit." Xander chuckled.

Harry sighed, much annoyed but at the same time unable to be really angry, "Try to keep my head attached and my blood all inside where it's supposed to be."

"Sounds like an excellent start, any ideas how you plan on accomplishing it?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Can you help me with my dueling some more?"

Xander nodded, "Sure, no prob, mate."

"Thanks."

Xander felt like a mound of bruises when he got up, his dueling with Harry rapidly becoming a chore right up there with calling Chayton derogatory names before a lesson.

' Really shouldn't have brought that bludgeoning curse to the field, ' Xander sighed as he forced himself to stretch out his sore and bruised muscles.

Unlike the Reductor, a modification of the Reducio charm, the Impingo was a modification of the banishing charm. Instead of applying force evenly, like the Depulso, the Impingo snap released the spell's energy into a single point. The result was an effective shield breaker, and felt roughly like getting worked over by Mike Tyson when cast on you by someone with Harry's power.

Or, as Sam would tell him constantly after Chayton beat him into the ground, good training.

Fuck Sam.

Xander slowly pulled himself into his robes, moving with a stiffness he hadn't felt since early in the summer, and got his books together for classes before heading out to the common room. Somedays he really had to wonder at the directions his life had taken.

"Harris."

Xander groaned, mostly NOT from the pain in his muscles. "What is it, Draco?"

"Here." Draco smirked, handing him something.

Xander looked down at the button curiously, "What's this?"

"My little gift to Potter." Draco said, still smirking insanely as far as Xander was concerned.

Xander read the button, noting that it said 'Support Cedric Diggory, Hogwarts REAL Champion', and shrugged. "So? Harry would probably wear this."

Draco's smirk widened, "Check again."

Xander blinked and looked down, noting with surprise that the text was changing until it morphed into an inspiring 'Potter Stinks'. Xander sighed, "Brilliant, Draco. Come up with that bit yourself?"

"As a matter of fact I did."

Xander shook his head and shoved the badge back at Draco, "Thanks, but no."

"You can't say no!"

Xander slumped, then looked back at Draco. "Dude. I'm half asleep, I feel like I called Mike Tyson a sissy to his face, and I just want to get some food before class. You want to explain why I can't say no, please? And keep it simple."

"You're a Slytherin, we have to show a united face to the enemy!"

"Harry's not my enemy, number one. Two, it's because I'm a Slytherin that I won't touch that button, and three… who elected you president anyway?"

"What are you talking about? Potter's a Gryffindor! This is the perfect time to put him in his place," Draco insisted, "He had to cheat Dumbledore's age line to get in!"

"So? Half the school cheered the Twins for trying just that, and the rest cheered the other five idiots who made the attempt." Xander countered, "What you're saying is that Potter is more skilled than all of them, and because of THAT we should piss him off? Survival isn't a trait your family selected for, is it?"

"Don't talk about my family, Harris!"

Xander sighed, shaking his head, "Besides. I know, and I'm pretty sure you know, that Harry didn't put his name in. You're not that stupid."

"So what?" Draco sneered, "It's an opportunity. We take it."

"And just how long do you think it'll stay a secret that someone is trying to kill Potter this year, Draco? When it comes out, and it WILL come out, I'm not going to look like an idiot for wearing one of those damn things." Xander grumbled, pushing past Draco. "You need to start thinking long term, Draco."

"Come back here, Harris!" Draco yelled as Xander left the common room.

Behind them, neither boy noticed many Slytherins look at the badges in the hands and quietly drop the offending items into the trash as they too went on their way.

Narcissa Malfoy frowned thoughtfully as she read the latest notations in the Grimoire. They were some of the first bits added by young Mr. Potter, and she was deliberating how to respond to them.

It was obvious that the boy was, once more, at the center of events. Honestly, she was beginning to believe that someone had cursed the boy, or maybe even the family. His father hadn't been much better, and neither had his paternal grandfather come to think of it. Thrust into the international limelight, however, was another level entirely and as the Regent Black this was a serious issue.

Of course, it did provide certain… opportunities, she decided.

First, he wasn't publically acknowledged as Regent as of yet, so he could always be disavowed if things went entirely pear shaped. Though she'd have to be careful how she sold THAT idea to Sirius, Narcissa knew. That said, if he came out respectably, the power of the family would be enhanced quite nicely.

The trick was going to be gaining control of the situation before…

"Cissa."

The sound of her cousin's voice startled her for a moment, but Narcissa quickly plucked up the small mirror she kept near the Grimoire and looked into it. "Sirius."

"Have you heard? I assume you have." The Lord Black in Exile demanded as he glared up out of the mirror.

"Of course I have," She drawled, her tone dry. "I was just contemplating how to respond."

"I'm coming home."

"Don't be an idiot." She snapped, glaring at the mirror. "What can you do?"

"I can be there for Harry!"

"As what? His pet dog?" She sneered, "There's nothing you can do. The goblet has him locked into competing, which I will admit is a rather… disconcerting situation."

"Disconcerting!?"

"Yes. The tournament itself is beyond our control, however. We shall have to trust that Dumbledore hasn't completely lost what mind he had and can still protect the boy to some degree." Narcissa sighed, "The tasks themselves are outside our control entirely. He must compete."

"Damn it, Cissa! What the hell are you talking about? We can't let this happen…"

"His magic and his life are bound to this, fool." She snapped icily. "If he doesn't, the best case result is that the boy lives as a squib."

"Better that than dead," Sirius snapped in reply, though his voice didn't have as much confidence as earlier.

"Perhaps, but I suspect that unless he does something incredibly stupid, death is a highly unlikely outcome. They're not looking for that kind of publicity from this," She countered. "What we have to do is get control of the situation outside the tournament."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Press, Sirius. The boy is a naïve innocent," She replied, "It's charming really, but the press will eat him alive. I've already learned that Rita Skeeter has been assigned by the Prophet."

"Skeeter?" Sirius frowned, then paled, "That GOSSIP? She's a reporter now? Oh lord."

"Yes," Narcissa said dryly. "The international press will likely be out for blood as well, if only because the boy is British. Though his fame will give him some cushion there, unless he does something scandalous, at which point they'll cheerfully eat him alive."

"Oh this just gets better and better," Sirius groaned. "Why am I not coming over there again?"

"Because you getting arrested and sentenced to the kiss, while certainly distracting, will hardly do him any good."

"Fine, fine. What do you suggest?" Sirius asked finally, honestly at a loss in this situation.

"I'm still contemplating options." She sighed, "This isn't a situation I have intimate knowledge of. Ideally, he needs some sort of handler or secretary to keep Skeeter in line. I'm almost tempted to pull some strings and get Lockhart out of Azkaban, however despite how well that fool handled the press I doubt he has much love for Potter at the moment."

"I suppose just paying them off is out of the question?"

Narcissa laughed lightly at her cousin, "Oh my, how the Gryffindors mane has darkened. No, if it were strictly local, that might be an option, but this event is too large. Our young Regent needs a Press Secretary."

"Fine." Sirius sighed. "Who?"

Harry had had better days.

A few Gryffindors, most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, though oddly enough only a small portion of Slytherin were sporting those damned buttons. It felt like second year all over again, only this time he was the cheat instead of the heir of Slytherin. Seeing Potter Stinks over and over again was really annoying, and he found himself on the verge of losing his temper more than once through the day.

Hermione was with him, at least, while Ron was… well, Ron mostly. The redhead was more than a little put out that Harry hadn't told him how to get past the age line, but at least he wasn't wearing one of those damned buttons and Harry had even walked in on him growling at a Puff over them. So, while they weren't good at the moment, Harry figured they would be.

It was just so STUPID, though.

No one seemed to give a damn that there were FOUR people in the bloody TRI wizard tournament! If he'd just put his name in, wouldn't there only be three champions? You'd think that would be proof enough for them, but of course it was never that simple.

Harry really had had better days.

"Mr. Potter."

He half turned to see Professor McGonagall approaching him. "Yes Ma'am?"

"You have a visitor, please go to the headmaster's office. I believe that the Headmaster particularly enjoys Whoppers this evening."

"Uh… Yes Ma'am." Harry said, hurrying away.

He got to the headmaster's office a few minutes later, having been slowed down when the stairs decided he should be on the fourth floor for some bizarre reason. After giving the password, Harry hurried up the stairs and entered to find the Headmaster behind his desk, chatting with a woman Harry didn't know.

"Ah, Harry. Welcome. There's someone here to see you," Albus said with a smile.

The woman turned around, rising to her feet.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Andromeda Tonks. My cousin Sirius asked me to meet with you."