Death is but the Next Great Adventure

Alastor Moody & the Red Sparrow

In the last chapter: Harry attends the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasley family. Along the way he meets Cedric and Amos Diggory. At the match, Harry runs into Philias Green and finds out about the Death Eater raid. Harry also encounters Viktor Krum. After the game the raid begins, Harry is separated from the group and meets Bellatrix again in the chaos. After the raid, Harry send another anonymous note to Voldemort.

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Harry's fourth year swept in on the whispered tides of excitement from those students 'in the know.' Each table in the Great Hall was buzzing with overflowing excitement—including the staff table—as everyone anxiously waited for Dumbledore to make the announcement. Which didn't happen until after dinner, causing the room to become more and more tense as the minutes dragged on.

Harry simply sat back and watched with masked mild amusement, absently listening to the musings of his chilling companion over his shoulder. As time went on, Death was becoming more and more begrudgingly fond of the students of Hogwarts. He often spoke of how endearingly ignorant they were, with their—supposedly—long lives still ahead of them. Harry lightly teased him, ignoring the subtle shiver of Hermione next to him as she tugged at her sleeves with a frown forming between her brows. Those in Ravenclaw often complained about drafts, but it was none of Harry's concern.

The only one who could come even close to suspecting it had something to do with Harry was Anthony, and the other boy was the last person to stir up trouble when it came to his friend. As the years ticked on by, Anthony never grew apart from Harry and with the life Harry's had, he found that fact indescribably comforting. Even though he knew that at some point he would tell Anthony the truth about himself, Harry didn't necessarily feel that same clamping guilt in his gut that he felt around the others when thinking too hard about his own secrets.

Despite the fact that Harry didn't get to spend as much time with Anthony as he had last summer, they were still as close as ever. On the train, while the others were occupied either talking with each other or reading, Anthony told Harry about some of the practicing he'd been doing on his own and Harry had to admit to being impressed with his friend. Anthony had spent his summer searching for and learning obscure spells from a variety of different countries. Harry made him promise to give him a demonstration at some point when they returned and had smiled fondly at the lively spark behind the other boy's eyes.

Harry was drawn out of his head when Dumbledore stood up and finally began his announcement. Halfway through, however, the Headmaster was interrupted by the dramatic appearance of a rain-soaked ex-Auror, Alastor Moody, who would take up the position of the DADA professor that year. Only Harry was aware of the disgruntled man's true identity.

Because almost everyone else in the room was also staring at the man, Harry was allowed to openly watch him as he took a seat and slipped a hidden sip from a flask. However, when the secret-Death Eater's gaze scanned the sea of students and landed on Harry, the young Ravenclaw had to be careful about the expression on his face, so as not to set off any red flags for the man and possibly scare him away. After all, it was Harry's goal to allow him to capture Harry.

When Dumbledore reached the part about the age restriction on entering the tournament, he was relieved, even said so to his group. Not relieved for himself—no, he knew that there was no way he would volunteer for the tournament—but for his friends. He wasn't worried about Anthony or Hermione, but sometimes he worried about just how Slytherin Draco really was. The tournament was supposed to be incredibly dangerous, and he didn't want them anywhere near it. If he had his way, they wouldn't even be able to watch the events—not trusting whatever protections set in place for the audience if these people were alright with sending near-children into some sort of 'death-match.'