Albus allowed himself to relax afte

Albus allowed himself to relax after finally convincing Sirius that there was no way out of this magical binding contract. Sirius had fought and argued admirably, but in the end it was Harry's name that was entered, written by his own hand. That was enough to convince the Cup that Harry had voluntarily entered, without coercion.

Of course, Harry hadn't written his name for the purpose of entering the Tournament, but no one needed to know that. At first, Albus considered entering Harry under the name of a fourth school, guaranteeing that he would be selected. But then he figured if Harry wasn't magically strong enough to be chosen under his own merits, then there was no need to test him in the first place, which was the whole point of this Tournament.

So, Albus pulled out some of the homework Harry had turned in, cut his name out, merged this piece of parchment with another that had the words, 'Hogwarts' and slipped the name into the goblet as he took it out of the casket.

It took a little acting on Albus' part to appear surprised when Harry's name came out of the Cup, but privately he was quite pleased. Like everyone else, he wanted to see how powerful Harry had become after four years of Hogwarts' education. He didn't even mind so much that Sirius and Severus was going to help the boy through the tasks, because no matter how much help or research he did, in the end it would be his magic pitted against the tasks.

O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O

November 2, 1994

Ron watched darkly as Harry left the Gryffindor Common Room for his weekend classes. Normally he wouldn't be up at this hour, but ever since his ex-best friend's name was pulled out of the Goblet, he felt so angry and frustrated that he couldn't even sleep right! He couldn't understand how things just magically fell right into Harry's lap without him even working for it.

First, Harry had gotten on Quidditch team, breaking the century-year-long rule on first years not allowed on the team, and getting the highly sought after position of Seeker, without having to try out. Hell, even the first broom Harry got was delivered to him in the middle of the Great Hall, for free! What kind of first year had that kind of luck? Huh?

Being on the Quidditch team and being its captain was Ron's lifelong goal, and Harry had it all handed to him without even asking.

When Harry actually quit the team, Ron thought it was his chance to step up. But the only spot available was Harry's old Seeker position, and Ron knew he was no Seeker. Third year would have been fine, but then with Black's escape, everyone was treating Harry like a little prince again. Even Ron's parents were all worried about Harry when, in fact, Black had slashed up his curtains and held a knife over his bed. And that wasn't even mentioning the multiple vaults Harry inherited that year. He was probably richer than Malfoy! It was unbelievable, but what really topped it all was Sirius Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House, actually adopting Harry and made him his heir!

Meanwhile Ron, the sixth son of seven siblings, was stuck with a crooked, shabby house, sharing a room with Stuck-Up Percy, and scraping the bottom of his pockets just for some spare change. It was infuriating! This past summer, he thought he finally got something that Harry didn't, tickets to the World Cup, and VIP seats, at that! It was probably the happiest moment of his life until…. it was ripped right out of his hands by none other than his so-called best friend and his snobby-rich godfather! Surely, the great Harry Potter could have pulled some strings and get his best friend into the VIP box too.

Really, there was only so much Ronald Bilius Weasley could put up with, and this thing with the Tournament was the last straw. With each passing day, Ron could see Harry turning into a Slytherin, throwing his name and money around, keeping secrets, and avoiding…

Ron's brooding was interrupted when Hermione came out of the girls' stairway with a tote bag flung over her shoulder. Her eyes were still slightly puffy from crying last night. Ron grew a quirky smile, remembering how Hermione had flung herself in his arms after Harry practically screamed at them and accused Hermione of caring more for the house-elves than for her friends. Ron had Hermione all to himself that night, and she was so distraught that she didn't even nag him about his homework.

Ron got up from the couch and quickly appeared by Hermione side, helping her pick up a S.P.E.W. badge that fell out of her over stuffed tote bag. "Hey, how are you doing?" he asked trying to sound smooth, but it got awkward because Hermione's eyes weren't on him. They were darting around the room as if looking for someone.

"Did Harry go already?" she asked.

Ron scowled. Why is it always Harry? "Yeah, just left," he grumbled. "What are you looking for him for anyway? After what he said to us…after how he treated us in third year and taking our Quidditch tickets…"

"I don't care about those stupid tickets," Hermione interrupted. "And for your information, I thought Harry could help me sell some of these badges. House-elf liberations is too important, and I'm not going to jeopardize my cause just over some little argument. I'm sure Harry will come to see it my way. You know, with his popularity and all, he could be a real spokesman for S.P.E.W."

Ron's mind sort of drifted off when Hermione started ranting on about the house-elves again, but something suddenly clicked inside towards the end of her rant. "What if I told you I had a way to sell all those badges for you?" he interrupted.

Hermione came to a stop and stared. Ron usually wasn't the idea guy, so this brought her up short, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say. "I'd say that's great Ron, and I'm glad you're really getting into the spirit of this. But how?"

Ron pulled the tote bag full of badges off her shoulder. "Just let me handle it," he said, straightening up and trying to sound gallant. He felt all warm and tingly when Hermione gifted him with a wide smile.

"…let me go get…"

Ron blinked out of his daze when Hermione suddenly disappeared back up the stairs. He was left befuddled until Hermione came back down and stuffed the collection tin and a blank parchment into his arms too.

"Now, just make sure you keep a careful record of every sale, this will become our official S.P.E.W. roster…"

O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O o 0 O 0 o O

November 4, 1994

It was the weekends, which meant Harry had his Politic's lessons with Andromeda Tonks. While he wasn't exactly afraid of facing everyone, he was glad to have a legitimate reason to get away from all the sly looks and whispers that seemed to follow him as closely as his own shadow.

Andromeda already knew the gists of it through the newspaper and snippets of stories that managed to escape the walls of Hogwarts. Of course, most of them were false, outlandish rumors. Knowing how things tended to be blown out of proportion, Harry had written to her about the truth of what really happened-that he hadn't consented to enter the tournament.

"There are a couple things you can do," Professor Tonks began. "You can fight this. Magically binding contract or not, you did not put your name into the Goblet, and this can be easily proven. Veritaserum, oath swearing, and the like." Then she gave Harry a narrowed eyed look, demonstrating why she was a Slytherin. "But since you already know all this, I am assuming you actually want to compete now that you've been selected."

"I don't care about the money or the fame," Harry said. "But I want the chance to turn this around, make it benefit me instead of whoever's trying to hurt me." Namely Dumbledore, he added privately.

And thus, she immediately scrapped today's lessons in Goblin-Human Relation Laws in favor of Media and Privacy Laws. Harry honestly didn't know what he would do without her.

"In fact, I have been meaning to consult with you about this for a while, Harry," she said. "Your name is something we lawyers like to call Intangible Property. You own it and you have rights to how it is used, which means those who wish to profit from your name must first get your permission and compensate you for its use."

Harry only blinked blankly back. "You mean people have to pay me to use my name?" he asked, shocked.

Andromeda nodded. "Not just your name. Even your lightening bolt scar can be trademarked."

Stunned, Harry's mind instantly went to all the silly Harry Potter products, from brooms to toys to candies to books, being sold at Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and who knows where else. "How come no one's told me about this?" he asked.

Amdromeda shrugged. "Well, it's not every day a wizard's name becomes valuable enough to become Property," she said. "Only celebrities really have to deal with this sort of notoriety, and you can bet they already have lawyers who specialize in this sort of business."

"Huh. Well, I guess I don't mind," Harry said dubiously. He couldn't imagine forcing all those people to pay him just to use his name, like it was actually worth something. It seemed sort of pretentious to him. "It's not like I need the money or anything."

"Harry," Andromeda said, in a tone which Harry recognized was fond exasperation. "It's not about the money. It's about the rights. Trademarking your name will protect it from being abused."

"How do you abuse a name?"

Andromeda took a moment to put it in terms that her pupil would understand. "Say a bill is presented to the Wizengamut that…let's say it will classify pixies as deadly creatures and calls for their complete annihilation."

Harry snorted. "Who's gonna vote for something like that?"

"Exactly," Andromeda said. "But what if they say Harry Potter endorses it? That you think it's a good idea for all pixiess to be executed?"

Harry stiffened. "I would never!" he protested, and then he got what Andromeda was trying to tell him. "Oh, I see now." Suddenly a hundred s