A/N: No beta, so all mistakes are my own. Some warnings: Slash, language, possible mpreg, character death, Dark!Harry, and some bashing.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room. The blast of noise that met Harry's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked him backward. Next thing he knew, he was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how-"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon him, "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor-"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers. "We've got food, Harry, come and have some-"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast-"

But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate... Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak. Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands... Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet...

"I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened." But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all.

"I'm tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George-I'm going to bed-"

Insisting that he needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs, Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could. To his great relief, he found Ron was lying on his bed asleep, but Ron wasn't the only one in the dorm. Neville was sitting on his bed reading a book, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.

"Become too much?" Neville asked quietly.

"Oh hello, " Harry said cautiously. Harry suddenly became aware of how ridiculous he must look; he was still wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around him. He hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. Neville stood up to help him remove the banner after watching him struggle to remove it.

"So," he said when they had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "I was actually waiting for you; there was something I need to talk to you about."

Harry eyed him, wondering if he was going to get a lecture from his usually shy dorm mate. "Oh, what about?"

Apparently sensing Harry's reluctance, Neville gave him a reassuring smile. "It's about your name coming out of the goblet—"

Harry turned away from him, tired of having to explain himself. "I didn't enter in the tournament Neville."

"I know," Harry looked back at him in surprise. "That wasn't what I want to talk about though, not really." He looked pointedly at Ron. "Maybe we could sit on my bed; it'll be a bit more comfortable then standing here." He suggested.

"Sure." Harry said, following Neville to sit on his bed, curious to what this could be about. Harry was ashamed to realize he had never sat on Neville's bed, or had a personal conversation with just the two of them. He had always counted Neville as a friend, but he wasn't even sure if he knew the boy well enough to call him that.

Neville pulled his curtains closed, and then brought his wand out and cast a silencing spell. Harry was amazed at the ease that Neville had cast the spell; he usually had so much trouble in class. Giving Harry another of his smiles, he asked, "Harry do you know who your Magical Guardian is?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but I would assume it was my muggle aunt."

"She couldn't be, only magical beings can be a Magical Guardian, but that wasn't why I asked. I already know who it is, but I have always wondered if you knew." He gave Harry a sheepish smile. "Sorry, getting off topic. Let me warn you, everything I want to talk about with you, will probably need some explanation."

"I'm sure I won't care, this seems like something serious." Harry told him.

Neville nodded. "Yeah, it is important, really you should have been told this before, but I wasn't sure if you knew and didn't care, or just didn't know. I've tried to ask before, but Ron and Hermione always drag you off before I could ask."

Several emotions went through Harry at the mention of his supposed best friends, but he just shrugged them off, whatever Neville was trying to say seemed to be important. "Sorry about that, they're a bit possessive." He laughed, but it was forced. "So what were you saying about my Magical Guardian?"

"Oh right." Neville said, trying to remember where he left off. "Right, okay. So your aunt isn't your Magical Guardian, but she is your guardian when you're not at school because you're parents died. Take me for example, my Gran is my guardian all year, because even though my parents are sick, she is still magical and can take responsibility for me, even while I'm at school. But for orphans, when you're at school, your Magical Guardian is the Headmaster."

Neville had rambled but Harry had still understood what he was telling him, but it didn't stop him from exclaiming, "What!" very loudly.

Neville chuckled. "It's a good thing I put up a silencing spell."

Harry laughed a little, but he was still too shocked to find it funny. "Are you telling me that Dumbledore is responsible for me while I'm in school, like a parent would be?"

Neville nodded, happy that Harry had understood his rambling. "Yes, essentially. He isn't supposed to give you money for the trolley, or anything like that, but say, when you are injured, well he is supposed to make sure you're okay, and he's supposed to make sure you keep up with your grades."

"So really, it's not that different then now."

Neville nodded, but then shook his head. "Yes and no. He is doing everything that's required, but only just. He's doing the bare minimum. Has he ever suggested tutoring, or offered to help with a subject?" Harry shook his head. "When we had to choose classes for third year, did he help you with that decision?" Harry shook his head again. "What about potions? Has he ever offered to help with that? He's famous for his advances in alchemy, but he never tried to help you in that class either, did he?" Harry shook his head again.

"Neville, earlier it sounded like this had something to do with the tournament…." Harry leadingly asked.

"Right, yeah that's why I finally thought I should bring this up. I've noticed how the Headmaster never really helped you when you get in these situations, and I doubted this time would be any different."

Harry sighed. "No, he defiantly didn't help."

"Figured as much." Neville said. "Anyways, that's one of the reasons I needed to talk to you. As your Magical Guardian, Dumbledore has the ability to break any magical contracts that are created while you are at school."

Harry's eyes widened. "Are you saying early, when he kept asking and shaking me, he could have been getting me out of this mess!"

"Yeah, and since he didn't, no one's going to believe that you didn't enter the tournament willingly since Dumbledore's made no attempt to break the contract."

"That bastard!" Harry hissed.

Neville nodded, and then asked. "Uh, do you want me tell you the rest later? It's going to make you angrier probably."

Harry shook his head, trying to rein in his emotions and magic. "No, you might as well tell me tonight."

And Neville did.