After the chaos of the Quidditch finals, Harry was grateful to find that the rest of the summer was uneventful. There was no ride in a flying car to Hogwarts, no confrontation with Draco Malfoy...all in all, it was a peaceful and non-eventful start to the school year.

Steven and Hermione had argued on the train over Winky. Apparently the house elf was still depressed over having had to leave her former family. Hermione believed she would have been better to have been free, but Steven disagreed.

"The Hufflepuff rooms are near the kitchens," he said. "And I've spent a lot of time talking to the house elves there."

Steven spent a lot of time talking to everyone, so it didn't surprise Harry. Also, he'd somehow managed to get the house elves to make some American snacks, some of which Harry liked better than others.

"There are house elves at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.

"Over a hundred of them," Steven said. "They're really nice. They make all the food and they clean up at night."

"The food..." Hermione said. Her face was pale. "It's made by slaves?"

"They like to do it," Ron said. "Servin wizards is their whole reason for living."

"Like your mother exists mostly to cook and clean for you?" Hermione asked. She was flushed and she looked almost sick.

Steven looked at her, concerned, but she scowled and looked away. He sighed.

"I've seen the way they treat Dobby," he said. "They look down on him...pity him. They think he's strange for wanting to be free."

Harry felt a moment of shame; it hadn't even occurred to him to ask how Dobby was doing in his job at Hogwarts. The house elf had always put a brave face on everything and he'd assumed that everything was good.

"Winky was about to lose the only family she'd never known. If you add being ostracized by her people on top of that...I don't think it would have been good for her."

"That's no reason to make her a slave!" Hermione insisted. Her voice was unusually loud.

"I told her that she could have clothes anytime she wanted," Steven said quietly. "She's only going to be with us as long as she wants to be with us."

"How's she getting along then?" Ron asked, with an uncomfortable look at Hermione, who was quietly fuming.

"I asked Amethyst to be careful about pranking her until she feels better," Steven said. "Peridot seems to like her; she keeps having to tell her that safety goggles and a fireproof apron for welding are not clothes. Pearl's been trying to mother her."

Ron wisely managed to change the subject to the upcoming Quidditch year at school, and Hermione had settled into an irritable silence, although Harry could tell that this wasn't the last they were going to hear about this.

Other than a few mysterious comments from Ron's older brother about the upcoming year, there had been nothing else notable about the trip.

This year, he noted, the professors' table was longer than it had been in previous years. Pearl was sitting at the table, although there was no plate in front of her. It took Harry a moment to realize that Steven had told him that she didn't like to eat.

Amethyst was lying on the table in front of her in the form of a purple cat.

The sorting process was by now old hat to Harry, although the poem the hat recited was different every year. He supposed that it had nothing to do all year except compose the poem.

Dumbledore was going through his usual first of the year speech, warning everyone away from the Forbidden Forest. Steven apparently didn't count; apparently his Watermelon soldiers had found a way to reproduce and they were now breeding in the forest.

Steven visited them occasionally, more often during the summertime. He'd as much as admitted that he hadn't told any adults about them except Hagrid for fear that the wizards would feel threatened by them.

Considering what they'd done to Professor Quirrell, Harry could understand Steven's worry.

Harry blinked as he realized that Dumbledore had said something different than he's said in any other year.

No Quidditch? For the entire year?!

For a moment Harry felt as though he was having a panic attack. He couldn't breathe and he felt as if his heart would beat out of his chest.

Quidditch meant freedom. It meant time away from books and studying. It meant popularity and success from something he'd earned instead of from something that had happened to him.

He forced himself to calm down. Hermione made fun of Ron for only thinking about Quidditch. Maybe he also was a little too obsessed.

Before Dumbledore could explain the reason why, the door to the Great Hall slammed open, and a hideous mockery of a man stepped into the room. Every inch of his skin was scarred. He was like a patchwork of a man, and parts of him were missing. He was missing part of his nose, his eye and one leg at the very least.

His artificial eye was rolling around in his head, and he stumped across the floor headed for the professor's table.

He stopped only for a moment next to the Hufflepuff table.

"Keepin out of trouble Universe?"

"Hi, Mr. Moody," Steven said.

"Good work with the troll and basilisk."

The man didn't say anything else. He just stomped his way up to the professor's table. Amethyst's reception of him was somewhat chilly; she hissed at him and turned into an owl and flew up into the rafters. As there was an illusion of the night sky above them, she quickly became invisible.

Dumbledore rose and spoke. "May I introduce your new Defense against the Dark Art's teacher, Professor Moody."

Normally all the students applauded a new professor, but this time nobody applauded but Dumbledore and Hagrid.

Steven looked uncomfortable and then he started clapping as well. The Hufflepuffs began clapping sporadically as well.

Moody didn't look as though he cared.

"Is that Mad-Eye Moody? The auror who tried to capture Amethyst?" Harry asked.

Hermione, who had been picking at her food and not eating it looked up and nodded. "Steven told me all about him last year. He seems rather...cautious."

"Looks like he hasn't been cautious enough," Ron said quietly. His eyes hadn't left the professor. "'E looks like he got torn apart by dogs and then sewed up again by a blind guy who didn't know what faces were supposed to look like."

"-the Triwizard Tournament will be held this year," Dumbledore said.

Harry sat stunned as Dumbledore explained the history of the Triwizard tournament. It wasn't until Dumbledore mentioned the reduced death toll that he began to have an uneasy feeling.

There had been attempts on his life every year at Hogwarts. This would be a perfect opportunity to try again.

He'd just have to do everything he could to avoid volunteering. While part of him couldn't deny the allure of winning the cup for Hogwarts, he'd spent too much time around Steven to realize that fame and glory weren't everything.

Hermione had once told him a story about Steven singing and dancing in women's clothing just so he wouldn't hurt a friend. Steven cared nothing about glory and fame, and yet somehow both seemed to come to him.

More importantly, Steven had helped him realize that he didn't have to do everything himself. He'd learned not to trust adults all throughout his childhood, but this was a different world. He didn't have to fight every battle alone.

He wasn't even the only boy-who-lived anymore. Technically Steven also fit the bill.

"-have to be seventeen years old."

There was a sense of relief at the knowledge that at least the attack wouldn't come from this direction, but paradoxically, he felt a sudden desire to participate. Being forced to play was one thing, but being told that he couldn't was entirely another.

He glanced over at Steven. Steven was actually old enough to participate, although he didn't have nearly the knowledge of spells students three years older would have. He hadn't signed up for apparition lessons, even though technically he could have qualified. He didn't have the magical background, what with being three years behind everyone else his age.

Steven was watching intently, but he didn't look as though he was going to put his name into the hat, or whatever it was.

Dumbledore admonished them not to attempt to fool the age restriction, as there would be countermeasures in place.

The Weasley twins were plotting almost from the moment that Dumbledore stopped speaking, and Harry had a feeling that it wasn't going to go well for him.

As far as he could tell, Steven wasn't planning to try out, even though what seemed like the entirety of Gryffindor was, down to the youngest first year.

Had his time with Steven changed him? With the exception of Hermione, all the other Gryffindores wanted to forge blindly ahead.

Or maybe it was that little piece of Slytherin that the hat had seen within him as a first year.

For whatever reason Harry forced himself to realize that it was for the best. In the end, it would be nice to be on the sidelines for once. It would be good to go one year where he was the one who got to watch while other people put their lives on the line.

If he felt a little piece of envy for that unknown person, he forced himself to squash it. He had all the fame and glory he needed.

If a traitorous little part of him wished he could participate, he'd just have to enjoy the benefits. Without Quidditch he'd have more time to spend with his friends this year. He'd have more time to goof off and enjoy himself.

This was going to be a great year. He'd make sure that it was.

So why did he have an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach?