Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I only wish I could say the same. Please don't sue me. Thank you. In particular, anything you recognise is most possibly an extract from the fourth book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

Thank you so much to my reviewers :D and many apologies also! To be honest, I'd written the first half of this right after I posted the last chapter and then my brain had sorta died (as you can probably tell...). And then I lost my copy of HP and the Goblet of Fire... I know, "excuses, excuses" but seriously, I have no idea where I'm going with this story so I'll be just as surprised as you are when you read it haha...

Another small tip of the hat to the wonderful, Firefly

By the way, plot is so boring... T_T

Been ages since I've last written and my writing is prone to deterioration... I feel less funny also :(

U.B.L.H.

I will get this done though... once I've located my copy of the fourth book ^^;;

Warnings: Slight slash, unbetadness, screwed up personalities, characters with PMS and MPD (possibly at the same time), tooth-decaying clichés, OOC characters out of character of their OOCness but still not in character (I'm not particularly good at being consistent...), plotholes galore, anime-esqueness (because I seriously watch too much of it...) and blatant self-insertion

Fate's Favourite Toy.

Chapter 7.

The screams of delight quickly turned into screams of fear as a shadow shot up into the darkened sky. A skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth hovered there as it stared down at them, the dark omen of one man.

Voldemort.

Harry scowled as he carefully peeked out of the dark alley, methodically taking in the situation. Somehow, during the confusion and mass hysteria, he had gotten separated from his friends. And to add to his annoyance, of all the people to get saddled with, it was-

"Oh~! Please have mercy~!" Lockhart sobbed from the little corner he had curled up in, "I'm too beautiful to die!"

-this guy!

He supposed it could have been worse; at least it wasn't Malfoy...

(Retse paused in her typing as she stared at the screen in contemplation, "Hmm..."

Harry glared at her, "No."

"But-!"

"No!"

"...Fine," she finally conceded with a pout on her face, "Spoilsport...")

Harry sighed, small disaster averted, turned his gaze back to the greater disaster occurring outside. As much as he hated having to draw attention to himself, he had to do something; and fast. If he didn't do anything soon, this would become another one of those angsty!Harry stories!

"And we certainly cannot have that, oh no~!"

Harry blinked and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed immediately, "YOU!" he growled viciously, pointing an accusing finger at the one who had spoken.

"Yes, me," Fate chirped happily, completely unaffected at being the target of Harry's anger.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure that you do something, of course!" Fate said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Really Harry, have misjudged you? Will you seriously stand back while your friends are killed?"

"No, of course not but-"

"Then go forth and save your people!" Fate shouted, thrusting his arm out towards the closest screaming victim of a Death Eater.

"Someone help me!" Rita Skeeter screamed in agony.

Harry stared at her, "...Do I have to?"

Fate froze and stared at her too.

Rita Skeeter screamed some more.

"...Okay, maybe not that one," Fate eventually agreed, turning his back on the flailing woman, "But everyone else you must save!" he said, gesturing emphatically again.

Behind them, Death stared at them stonily. The future of this world depended on these two...? Suddenly, he had an overwhelming feeling that his job was going to be a lot more swamped than usual...

"Well then, what you waiting for?" Fate huffed.

Harry gave him a dry look, "Fine, I'll help but I'm not going out there looking like this," he hissed, gesturing at his petite, eleven-year old figure. "That would be like dancing naked in front of Dumbledore with a sign saying 'I'm young, stupid and strangely powerful! Sacrifice me for the Greater Good!'"

"That can be easily fixed," Fate replied, drawing out a thin glass tube from his pocket and waved it around in Harry's face.

Emerald eyes narrowed, "...Polyjuice? What would I do with-" Pause. "Oh, hell NO!"

"Oh, hell yes," Fate smirked.

Neville's grip on his wand tightened as he glared at the man before him, ruby red eyes glinting at him even beneath the darkened sky. Beside him, his friends and colleagues, equally tensed as they eyed the masked men standing along side the Dark Lord. Anyone with eyes could see they were ill-matched and the future seemed grim but they wouldn't stand down. They, like Neville, will fight!

With Dumbledore yet to arrive, the scene was eerily silent as they stared each other down, broken only by the occasional scream of fear in the distance. Who will make the first move? Who will throw themselves down as the first casualty of war? Who will-

"So you finally decided to show yourself, Tom."

Neville's eyes bulged almost comically as he instantly recognised that voice. What was that fraud doing? He should have made his getaway at the first sign of danger, only reappear when it was all over and obliviate his way through to whatever credit he could possibly get away with...

While the rest of the world seemed to have remained blissfully unaware, Neville alone knew the truth. Gilderoy Lockhart was a fraud, a far-cry from the gallant hero depicted in his books. But as the blonde man was his Godfather, and as such for the sake of his dearly departed mother, he never spoke a word of it.

A horrible, horrible feeling started to well up in him. Had the man bleached his hair so much that he himself was beginning to believe the drivel he'd written?

"Who are you that would dare use that name!" Voldemort hissed angrily, all presence of his earlier smirk gone.

"No one of consequence," the blonde replied coolly. (Neville blinked rapidly before rubbing his eyes roughly; was he seeing things? He hadn't seen such a serious look on his godfather's face since that time the man discovered he'd grown his first grey hair!)

"It's Gilderoy Lockhart! We're saved!" One of his more adoring fans whispered loudly to her companion though, with the silence that came at the appearance of Voldemort, it had the same effect of her shouting it in everyone's faces.

More whispers broke out instantly and, to Neville's chagrin, the people around him actually started to relax, even Ron and Hermione! Maybe it was time he seriously considered getting new best friends...

The smirk on Voldemort's face returned, "Lockhart, is it?"

The blonde grimaced but said nothing. (And what is going on with that? Neville thought, thoroughly confused; if he didn't know better he could've sworn that it actually looked like the man disliked being recognised so easily!)

"Very well. Then I thank you for volunteering to be the first," Voldemort said mockingly before whipping out his wand, "To die! Avada Kedavra!"

Screams rang out as the deadly green light hurtled towards Lockhart. For a moment, nothing happened, the man seemingly just as surprised at the turn of events as his audience. Then the next moment, the spell harmlessly crashed into the brick wall behind him. Lockhart had jumped up, executed a perfect triple somersault in the air over the path of the spell and landed gracefully on his feet.

Neville's jaw dropped.

Having simultaneously stunned his entire audience, the five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award then proceeded to effortlessly cartwheel across the gap separating the two groups and finished it off by solidly kicking Voldemort in the face.

Screams rang out again, though this time they were screams of excitement as Lockhart's fans cheered their hero on.

Neville, however, wondered idly if this was what going insane felt like.

Then Lockhart wiggled his wand in a weird fashion which Neville recognised as his godfather's usual blundering of perfectly simple spells. So it wasn't hard to believe that the brunette's eyes almost popped out of his head when a sudden shock-wave escaped the wand, knocking half of the Death Eaters to the ground and very much unconscious.

No, this must be what going insane must feel like, Neville silently corrected.

The rest Death Eaters didn't stick around much longer, quickly disbanding after seeing so many of their comrades so easily defeated, even Voldemort felt a little out of sorts (as one would no doubt feel after getting kicked in the face by a man who covers his books with a winking portrait of himself) as he called for them to retreat at this unexpected new character.

Cheers rang out again in Hogsmeade at their victory, the people amazed that no one had gotten seriously hurt (well, except for maybe Rita Skeeter but no one really cares about her, right?).

"Hey, where did Lockhart go?" one befuddled man suddenly asked.

The crowd quietened as they too searched for their hero who had miraculously disappeared during their brief raucous celebrations.

"Yeah! I was going to ask for his autograph!"

"Oh, no! You don't think You-Know-Who took him prisoner, do you?"

"Don't be stupid! A man of his calibre would never allow You-Know-Who to get the better of him."

"Look! There he is!" one excited woman shouted, pointing to the blonde man as he stumbled out of an alley, looking a little lost. None of them seemed to notice that however as they crowded around him, cheering once more.

"You're my hero, Mr. Lockhart!"

"Yeah! You certainly showed them, didn't you?"

"What?" Lockhart looked a little confused but he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in a moment later, "Oh, yes! Of course! Hahaha," he laughed before flashing his award-winning smile, "All in a day's work."

As a nearby bunch of females seemed to swoon at that, Neville just stared at his godfather nonplussed; What in the world had just happened?

Meanwhile, in the very alley Lockhart had stumbled out of, his exact look-like plopped himself down on a wooden crate, out of sight of any prying eyes, and sighed. He then turned and glared at the small boy beside him, "I hate you."

Fate just giggled.

All in a day's work, indeed.

It'd been only a week since the appearance of Voldemort and, to Neville's annoyance, already people seemed to be forgetting about him. What with the apparent appearance of Gilderoy Lockhart and Voldemort's subsequent 'defeat', people were more than happy to believe that the threat wasn't much of a threat at all with their hero in the picture.

And Neville didn't know what he thought about that particular bit of information...

(though he was expecting a pig to fly past his window any day now)

What's worse, seeing the public's lack of interest of the dark and gloom, Rita Skeeter was all to happy to focus her articles on exposing Hagrid's 'giant' secret. The now-outed half-giant had taken to moping in his hut, not caring that a substitute had to be found to take care of his class.

There wasn't anyone Neville hated more than Voldemort but Rita Skeeter was rapidly climbing to a close second.

A small hand reached out to grasp his before squeezing it lightly, "Hey, what's wrong?" Harry asked.

Neville's dark mood disappeared immediately at the first-year's appearance, "Hagrid still won't come out of his hut," he said, his bright smile in complete contradiction to his sullen statement. He couldn't find it in himself to be sad as he happily returned the light squeeze.

The first-year seemed to realise that as his mouth quirked slightly in amusement, "Then we should go down to Hagrid's hut and tell him how much we want him to come back."

"Exactly!" Hermione suddenly burst out of no-where, "He should never have let that poor excuse for a human being upset him! Come on!" she urged, rushing to the door. But when she reached it, she realised no one had followed her. Glancing back, she rolled her eyes seeing both boys still stunned and wide-eyed from her sudden appearance.

"Come on!" she repeated, picking up Harry in her arms and ran out the door with him over her shoulder.

"Wah? Hey! Give him back!" Neville protested, quickly followed her.

"Why do people keep doing this?" Harry complained indignantly.

"Because it's effective," Hermione smirked and as if to prove her point, Cedric immediately fell into step beside her.

"Hey guys!" he smiled, "Where are we going? Oh, hey Orion!" Cedric greeted happily as they ran past the dark-haired Gryffindor.

Orion gaped at them for a moment before shaking himself and charged after them, "Granger! Put him down right now! You're going to drop him!"

"Not until we convince Hagrid to come back to teach us!" Hermione shouted without looking back.

"Please," Draco sneered as he jogged up beside her, "Not even the other Gryffindorks want him back, let alone the rest of the school. You may as well give it up Granger, the rest of us like having a competent professor for Care of Magical Creatures for once."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron shouted as he ran up to them, "I bet it was your fault Hagrid's like this in the first place!"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I vill also accompany you, Hermo-ninny," Viktor Krum offered instead as he joined the group.

Hermione blushed lightly and smiled at him, "Thank you, Viktor."

Ron glared at the pair, face reddening. He managed to keep his mouth shut however by instead turning to hiss at Malfoy again, "What the bloody hell are you doing anyway? Piss off already!"

"Why else would I be following you idiots?" the blonde smirked at him then leered at the small boy hanging over Hermione's shoulder. Half-lidded grey eyes smouldered as he stared at him with a sinister smile on his face, "Run, little one, run as far as you can. The more you run, the more I burn for you..."

"Faster, Hermione, faster!" Harry urged, clearly horrified.

"Oh, hey! It's Harry!" Colin Creevey shouted happily, his camera suddenly appearing in his hands out of seemingly nowhere.

"Hey Harry! Where are you going?" Dennis Creevey echoed as they joined them.

"Hermione..."

"Yes, I know, I know. 'Faster!'"

By the time they had reached Hagrid's hut, they'd pulled along a rather large group of friends and fans behind them, most of which included the newly formed and rather vocal NevHar slash fanclub (who, might I add, were glaring fiercely at the small but vehement group of Drarry supporters who had also decided to tag along behind them).

"Right!" Hermione exclaimed as she put her hands on her hips completely forgetting that she had Harry over her shoulder. Without a hand to keep him in place, Harry slid off of her rather slim shoulder with a soft, "Eep."

But before he found himself face first onto the ground, arms reached out and pulled him into a warm embrace. Looking up, emerald eyes caught the worried gaze of Neville Longbottom, "Are you alright?" he murmured.

And then their fanclub burst into loud squeals of happiness.

Harry glanced at them and then looked back at Neville, eye twitching, "I... There are mixed feelings..."

Neville could only smile back helplessly.

"Right!" Hermione repeated, pumping her fist in the air. "Everyone know what to do?" she asked, having apparently organised something in the short time they had looked away. Everyone nodded, "Then-"

"What's in it for us?" Draco drawled, crossing his arms in front of him. The crowd around him murmured in agreement. They didn't really care whether the half-giant came back to teach or not... many of them didn't even take that class!

Hermione glared at the blonde but then an idea hit her, a smirk gracing her face when she turned to address her audience, "If you help me do this then... Neville will kiss Harken."

Draco and Orion's twin shouts of "Over my dead body, he will!" was easily drowned out from the cacophony from the fans.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed, blushing madly as did Neville though he made no move to remove his arms from around the smaller boy.

"Do this," she gave them a doleful look, "for Hagrid."

Both boys instantly deflated, remembering exactly who had given them Hedwig for their eleventh birthday.

Smiling triumphantly, she turned her attention back to the crowd and-

Everything went black.

"What?" Fate shouted in surprise. Hopping up from his comfy spot on the couch, he hurriedly rushed to his crystal TBV (TeleBallVision) and started banging on it. It remained completely black.

"Noo~! Not now! And it was just getting to the good part too..." he sobbed. "Dee-chan!"

"What?" Death grumbled as he poked his head in through the door.

Fate just pointed at his TBV despondently as his eyes watered and his bottom lip wobbled.

Death sighed, "Well, that's what happens when you don't look at after your author," he said, gesturing at the aforementioned person who was currently slumped over in a dead faint over her computer.

"Oh," Fate blinked, "Oops."

Death sighed again, "Remember, you need to feed her three times a day, play with her and take her out for walks, and..."

Days later, Harken finally appeared again, this time in a corridor of Hogwarts for no apparent reason. He seemed to be in a spot of trouble, though why this was was uncertain at the moment as the author had been brain-dead for the past couple of days or so.

"Shit!" Harry cursed as he glanced around the corner, "Now what do I do?"

(At the same time, the author wondered the exact same thing. She was running out of ideas.)

"Something," someone said behind him.

"Wah? Ginny!" Harry jumped, more than a little surprised at her sudden appearance.

The girl's head turned to look at him. She had a bored look on her face, eyes half-lidded as if she'd drop into slumber at any given moment, "Ah?" she replied, head tilted slightly as she nonchalantly stuck her pinky in her right ear and wiggled it for a bit.

"I'm... er, glad to see... you..." he said awkwardly, clearly uncertain as to what to say. Well, what could he say? Glad you weren't dead like I thought you were? Sorry for the misunderstanding?

Ginny looked away in disinterest, "Wasn't so much as a misunderstanding," she said as if she had read his mind, attention drifting as she studied the bit of earwax on the tip of her finger intently, "More like the author completely forgot about me until she wrote that bit in the last chapter."

"Oh," Harry intoned.

"Yes, though I'm not that surprised," the red-head continued as if Harry had said something deeply meaningful that signalled the need for the rest of the story to be revealed, "She doesn't really like me considering in most of the fanfiction she reads, I'm a soul-sucking harpy who only wants to use you for your money and fame and to make a multitude of red-haired, green-eyed babies with."

"Oh," Harry repeated lowly.

Awkward silence.

Harry coughed, "Er, well, it was good seeing you Ginny..."

The red-head ignored him.

He quickly took this chance to edge away. And immediately ran into someone else. Harry grunted, rubbing his injured nose, "Sorry Professor Dumbledore..." Why can't I ever seem to be able to make a clean getaway?

The Headmaster smiled down at him with that infernal twinkle in his eye, "That's quite alright, Mister Skywalker. You know, you're quite a difficult young man to find. Follow me, we've been searching for you quite some time now and we don't have a moment to lose..." he said before he twirled around and strode off in he direction he had come.

"...Huh?" was Harry's only answer as he watched him leave. Snapping out of his surprise a moment later, he hurriedly caught up with the aged professor, cursing his short, skinny legs for what seemed like the millionth time he'd arrived in this world. For an old man, Dumbledore certainly moved fast...

"What is this about, Professor?" Harry queried when his curiosity finally getting the better of him after trekking down many corridors and staircases in silence.

"All will be explained in a moment," Dumbledore replied, that twinkle in his eye growing by the second and as did Harry's wariness. "In here, my boy," he said as they reached a sturdy wooden door, ushering in the small boy into the room behind it like a favourite Grandfather.

A psychotic, killer grandfather, that is, was the thought that crossed Harry's mind, gasping loudly as he took in the prone figures of Hermione and Orion sprawled out on a dusty, maroon rug. Spinning around immediately, his fears were confirmed when he saw the visage of the Headmaster towering over him, wand pointed directly at his face.

"Stupefy!"

Despite being in a much smaller body, years of training kicked in right at the moment as Harry twisted out of spell's reach by barely a hair's width, the red beam heating his cheek as it whizzed past him. Whipping out his wand and a flick of his wrist later, he easily incapacitated the old wizard in the same way the older man intended to incapacitate him. There was a brief look of surprise on Dumbledore's face before he succumbed to the spell, falling back onto the ground with a loud thump.

Not a moment later, no doubt drawn by that last sound, the door burst open and in came Professors Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick. They stared at him.

"Mister Skywalker, what-" McGonagall begun but Flitwick quickly interrupted her, "...Is that Albus on the floor?"

Both paused a moment to stare at the prone figure that was their boss, laying on the ground. McGonagall tried again, "Mister Skywalker..." she paused, clearly uncertain where to begin, "What happened here."

Harry instantly jumped up from his defensive crouch position, "Professor Dumbledore! He's gone insane! Or, well... maybe that should be more insane but insane! Or he's been possessed!" from there he gestured wildly at the unconscious figures of his friends, shouting about how the Headmaster said he'd been looking for him, had then led him here and then had attacked him, and he'd only stunned him in self-defence and, and...

Flitwick started to giggle.

Harry fell silent. What was so funny? Nothing about this situation was funny...

"A first-year got the jump on Albus," Flitwick practically squeaked with barely veiled amusement.

McGonagall gave her co-worker a stern look though a twitch of her mouth showed how she really felt, before she turned her attention to Harry and sighed. "As Albus probably should have explained before his enthusiasm at wanting the scenario to be a 'real' as possible got to him, a person important to each champion is required for the Second Task. That is why he brought you here, Mister Skywalker."

"Oh," Harry blinked, "Oooh," he repeated when her words finally sunk in, memories of the Second Task rushing back to him. Well, that certainly explained everything, didn't it? (Well, except for the part that the Headmaster was a nut-job) He stared down at the Headmaster and flushed slightly in embarrassment, "Oops..."

Flitwick burst out in laughter.