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Harry's fists tightened instinctively as he fought the urge to reach for his wand as he turned and watched Moody—or rather, Barty Crouch Jr. —. emerge from the shadows. The dim torchlight of the corridor flickered over his angular face, casting eerie shadows across his disfigured features. His expression was unreadable as he stared at him and got closer but there was something unsettling about the way he moved..

"What are you doing out of the common room after curfew, Potter?" Crouch Jr. asked, his voice smooth but edged with an unspoken warning.

Harry hesitated only a fraction before answering. "Our dormitory room was trashed," he said, keeping his voice even. "I am just coming back from telling the headmaster."

Crouch's lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes remained focused and sharp. "Wouldn't your Head of House have been the more appropriate authority to handle a simple prank?"

Harry nodded as though conceding the point, then added, "Under normal circumstances, yes. But since my name was put in the Goblet of Fire and I came out and made a magical vow that I didn't put my name into the tournament, Dumbledore asked to be kept informed of anything suspicious happening around me."

Crouch tilted his head slightly at that, regarding Harry with renewed interest before smiling thinly. "That is fair, I suppose," he admitted after a pause. "Although you give Dumbledore too much credit—he isn't as aware of everything as he might like others to believe he is."

The statement sent a shiver down Harry's spine. There was something in the way he said it that made Harry uneasy. He couldn't tell if it was meant to be a veiled warning, a taunt, or something else entirely.

Before he could dwell on it, Crouch's expression shifted into something unreadable. "Follow me, Potter."

Harry froze on instinct. The way it was said—it wasn't a request.

Crouch Jr. smiled at his hesitation. "Your room was attacked, and you believed it was serious enough to warrant involving the Headmaster," he said smoothly. "I believe we should chat so that I am aware of everything … just in case there is any concern about dark magic."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and started walking, not even giving Harry a chance to object, his long cloak swaying slightly behind him.

A cold sensation settled in Harry's stomach. He could refuse, of course—but that would raise suspicion. Crouch was no doubt watching him closely with his magical eye, likely waiting to see how he'd react.

Play along.The thought came unbidden. Don't give him a reason to think you're onto him.

Taking a steadying breath, Harry fell into step behind him forcing himself to follow.

He kept a steady pace, ensuring he was neither ahead nor falling too far behind. His mind raced through possibilities. Was Barty trying to gauge his reaction? Was this just routine, or was something more sinister at play?

The halls were eerily quiet, only the sound of their footsteps breaking the silence. Harry kept his breathing even, forcing himself to appear relaxed, though every muscle in his body was coiled like a spring.

The real Moody would have noticed tension,Harry thought grimly. But I think I'm fooling this one.

Arriving at Moody's office, the door creaked open with a flick of the fake professor's wand. The room was just as Harry remembered: cluttered with an assortment of strange and dangerous-looking artifacts, Dark Detectors lining the walls, and the ever-present trunk that Harry knew contained the real Alastor Moody.

Careful, Potter.

Moody gestured toward a chair opposite his desk. "Sit."

Harry took the proffered seat, sinking into it with deliberate ease. He stretched out his legs slightly, keeping his arms relaxed on the chair's rests—just enough to hopefully make it look like he wasn't nervous.

Moody clomped around the office, his wooden leg thumping against the floor as he set about making tea.

Harry watched as the man methodically prepared the drink, his movements practiced.

"So," Moody said gruffly, finally settling into his seat while the tea steeped. He leaned forward slightly, his unnatural eye fixed on Harry while his normal eye studied him. "Tell me about the room."

Harry met his gaze. "Our dorm was ransacked," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "Nothing looked like it was missing, or at least nothing of mine, so it could have been a prank taken too far."

Harry met his gaze, doing his best to appear just wary enough to be believable. "I came back to the common room this evening and after chatting with my friends, Ron and I headed up to our dormitory … but when we got there our room was a mess," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "Our trunks were upturned, our beds slashed, and our belongings tossed everywhere."

Crouch's brows furrowed, and he tapped his fingers against the desk. "Did you see anyone?"

"No," Harry admitted. "Whoever had been responsible was gone by the time we arrived."

Crouch hummed thoughtfully. "And did you notice if anything was missing?"

Harry hesitated, then shook his head. "I cleaned up my things and headed off to inform Dumbledore, while the others were still cleaning. But I hadn't noticed anything of mine missing."

Crouch seemed to be studying him, his dark eyes piercing in a way that made Harry's skin crawl. "Interesting," he finally murmured.

Harry frowned, playing the part of someone confused. "You think it wasn't just a prank?"

Crouch tilted his head. "Perhaps it was. Or perhaps it was meant to intimidate you." He tapped his fingers together. "You do have many enemies, Potter."

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug, hoping to appear indifferent. "I'm aware."

A smirk tugged at Crouch's lips. "Yes, I suppose you would be." He pushed back in his seat before exhaling. "Do you have any idea of who might've done it?"

Harry gave a nonchalant shrug. "My first thought was Fred and George, the Weasley twin's, but this seems a bit past what they'd do … even for a prank." He tilted his head, as if considering. "Could have been Peeves. Or maybe one of the Durmstrang students—even though for the most part I've been getting along with Krum, the rest of the student's haven't exactly been subtle about being upset that I'm leading in the tournament."

Moody's normal eye narrowed slightly while his magical one swiveled madly. Then, after a long pause, he nodded.

Abruptly and without another word, he stood suddenly and walked over to retrieve the tea.

Harry's gaze followed him, and as Moody turned back toward him, Harry could've sworn he saw a ghost of a smile flicker across his scarred face.

For a brief second, a strange image flashed through Harry's mind—Umbridge's smug, sickly smile.

His stomach turned, remembering being in this very office and having Umbridge attempt to give him tea.

Moody returned, placing a steaming cup in front of Harry before settling back into his chair. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his ever-present flask, and took a swig.

Harry didn't hesitate. While Moody was taking a swig of his flask, he wandlessly and nonverbally cast a sequence of spells, vanishing the contents of his tea before subtly refilling it with normal water and then finally transfiguring the water to match the ordinary color of the tea, all before Moody looked back at him.

Once that was done, he lifted the cup and took a small sip, nodding slightly toward Moody as if in thanks.

For a brief moment, Moody's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile.

It was subtle—barely noticeable. But Harry caught it.

He placed his cup down carefully, meeting Moody's gaze head-on.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

Moody tilted his head slightly, looking down at the tea cup before looking back up and studying him in a way that made Harry feel like a particularly interesting puzzle to be solved.

Moody exhaled slowly, setting the flask down with a soft clink against the wood. "You've been handling yourself well this year," he remarked. "Better than most expected, I'd wager."

Harry tilted his head. "That so?"

Moody nodded. "Aye. Most people thought you'd crack under the pressure. Thought you'd stumble. But you haven't." He smirked faintly. "I'd say you're more … adaptable than I expected."

Harry leaned back slightly, feigning mild curiosity. "Are you saying you had doubts about me, Professor?"

Moody's grin widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Not doubts. In fact, I fully expect that you will be the last one standing as you go on to win the tournament."

Harry didn't like the way he said that.

He kept his breathing steady, allowing a small, amused chuckle to escape. "Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence."

Moody hummed, his magical eye swiveling for a moment before locking back onto Harry. "You ever wonder why all this is happening to you, Potter?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Moody leaned forward slightly. "You. The Boy Who Lived. The youngest Triwizard Champion. The constant target of dark forces." He smiled thinly. "Ever wonder if there's a reason behind all of it?"

Harry shrugged. "I figured Voldemort trying to kill me since I was a baby had something to do with it."

Moody chuckled darkly. "That's the easy answer, isn't it?"

Harry didn't respond.

Moody studied him for a moment longer, then leaned back again, exhaling through his nose. "You should be careful, Potter. There are people who want to see you fail. People who don't want you to survive."

Harry met his gaze steadily. "I know."

Moody smiled faintly. "Good."

Silence settled between them once more.

Then, Moody spoke again, his tone casual but probing as he repeated his earlier question. "So, Potter … who do you think ransacked your room?"

Harry didn't allow himself to hesitate. He met Moody's gaze and shrugged before answering, his voice steady. "It could have been anyone but I think it may have been one of the Durmstrang students upset that I'm leading in the tournament."

However, this time, Moody nodded as if satisfied, finally allowing them to move past the topic.

Crouch regarded him with a more serious expression. "I have no doubt that Dumbledore will attempt to investigate this, not that I expect anything to come of his investigation, likely it doesn't mean anything, but in the meantime, you should be cautious."

Harry kept his expression neutral. "I always am."

Crouch chuckled. "Are you? You have a habit of throwing yourself into danger."

Harry crossed his arms. "I don't go looking for it."

Crouch's lips twitched. "No, but it always finds you, doesn't it?" His tone was oddly amused. "Perhaps that's just your nature."

"Speaking of the headmaster," he started, his magical eye whirling, before it fixed itself on Harry in an unsettling way. "You've been visiting Dumbledore quite a lot this year."

Harry felt a prickle of unease crawl up his spine.

Moody leaned forward, fingers tapping against the desk in a slow rhythm. "Significantly more than any of your peers. And from what I can tell, the two of you have disappeared from Hogwarts on multiple occasions."

Harry's grip on the chair subtly tightened.

"For someone as …" Moody's lips curled faintly. "Important as you, surely you must realize that being away from Hogwarts puts you at an increased risk for danger." The predatory glint in his eyes sharpened. "So, tell me, Potter—what exactly have you been up to?"

Despite having expected something like this, Harry had to do everything in his power not to flinch.

His mind raced. He had to give an answer—something close to the truth but not close enough to be dangerous.

Think, think, think—

Then it came to him.

He forced himself to relax, tilting his head as if mildlysurprised by the question. Then, looking Moody right in the eye, he answered.

"I've been visiting my godfather."

For the first time, it was Moody who reacted with confusion.

It was subtle—a flicker of something in his expression, a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw. But Harry saw it.

"Sirius Black?" Moody asked, his tone carefully neutral.

Harry nodded, schooling his features into something between earnestness and quiet defiance. "After escaping Azkaban the summer before my third year, he came to find me."

To his credit, Barty Crouch Jr. didn't flinch this time.

Instead, he let out a low, guttural sound—something between a growl and a scoff.

"The man who betrayed your parents came to find you?"

Harry shook his head, making sure to look indignant. "What's in the Daily Prophet is wrong. My godfather is innocent."

Crouch Jr. stared at him, unmoving.

Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, as if waiting for Harry to continue.

Harry nodded, as though reaffirming his own words. "It was Pettigrew who betrayed my parents. Not Sirius."

Moody let out a sharp, barking laugh. "Pettigrew? Boy, Pettigrew is dead.Sirius Black killed him. Everyone knows that."

Harry didn't waver. "That's not the truth."

He saw the flicker of amusement in Moody's gaze, but he pressed forward.

"Pettigrew was masquerading as a rat for years," Harry said evenly. "Sirius found out, so he escaped from Azkaban to make sure I was safe."

He paused, watching Moody's reaction carefully.

"Unfortunately it took almost the entire year but at the end of last year, I foundout the truth," Harry continued, his voice unwavering. "But in the mess of everything that happened, Pettigrew managed to escape. No doubt he's hiding in some little hole far overseas."

For a fleeting moment, Harry saw something unexpected—a brief flicker of a smile on Barty Crouch Jr.'s face.

Not a sneer. Not a scoff.

A genuine smile.

That alone sent a chill down Harry's spine.

He was sure what he'd actually expected – anger, denial, something.But instead, it was as though Crouch Jr. had just heard something he found … amusing.

Harry kept his expression carefully neutral.

Moody exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with an almost amused air. "That's quite the tale, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "It's the truth."

Moody hummed, swirling the contents of his flask before taking a sip.

"Well," he said finally, "I suppose Dumbledore believes you."

Harry hesitated for only a fraction of a second before nodding. "Yes."

There was a long pause.

Then Moody leaned forward again, clasping his hands together. "Then I'll believe this story as well. Tell me, Potter …"

Harry tensed slightly.

Moody's magical eye bore into him. "If Black is innocent, why hasn't he come forward?"

"Sirius is smart enough to know the Ministry wouldn't give him a trial," he said, keeping his voice level. "They didn't give him one the first time. Why would they now?"

"Clever man." Moody smirked. "Your godfather must be quite the resourceful man," Moody mused.

Harry only nodded.

Moody chuckled, shaking his head as he tooked towards one of the walls before looking back to Harry. "Well, I suppose it's good to know you've got someone looking out for you, Potter."

Harry kept quiet.

"I have a question about him."

Harry froze, masking his unease before looking up. Moody had fixed him with a sharp, serious stare, his magical eye whirling as if trying to see straight through him.

"Where's Sirius now?"

The question was calm. Too calm.

Harry forced himself to shrug. "Not sure."

Moody narrowed his eyes slightly, waiting.

Harry continued, keeping his tone as natural as possible. "Dumbledore's been hiding him. As a favor—maybe an apology to me. He's been moving him around constantly—caves, barns, little villages—never the same place twice."

He paused deliberately, glancing away for a second before turning back with a carefully placed sad expression. "I think Dumbledore hopes my visits will help Sirius recover."

Moody's eyebrows rose slightly.

Encouraged by the reaction, Harry pressed on.

"Apparently, he's definitely not the same man he was before Azkaban." He sighed, shaking his head as if burdened. "Dumbledore said that only the strongest people can spend serious time in Azkaban and still come out as themselves."

Harry trailed off, shaking his head again for effect.

When he looked back up, he caught it—a flicker of a smirk on Moody's face.

It was gone in an instant, but it had been there.

A surge of cold fury ran through Harry. He fought down the impulse to hex the bastard across from him, forcing himself to remain still.

Moody glanced down at Harry's teacup before looking back up. His expression was unreadable.

"Is there anything elseyou've been up to that I should know about?"

Harry shook his head, keeping his features blank.

Moody studied him for a beat longer before nodding. "Alright."

There was a pause. Then Moody leaned forward, his tone almost … reassuring.

"If there's anything you're concerned about, anything that seems off … you can always come find me." His lips curled slightly, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "I'll … help."

Harry kept his face neutral, giving a small nod of acknowledgment.

"You're the youngest in the Tournament," Moody continued, watching Harry carefully. "You're already dealing with more than your fair share. The last thing you need is to worry about anything else. What's important is that you focus on winning."

Harry hesitated for only half a second before responding. "I'm trying."

Moody nodded again. Then, just as suddenly, his demeanor shifted back to something more casual. "Well, if that's all, you can go."

Then, without another word, Moody stood and clomped over to the door. He opened it and gestured outward. "Get some sleep, Potter."

Harry rose from his chair, offering a nod. "Goodnight, Professor."

He smirked faintly. "Just don't get caught in the hallway."

Harry gave a polite nod before turning and walking out of the room at a normal pace.

Crouch called over his shoulder. "Sleep well, Potter."

Harry didn't respond. He turned and walked away, keeping his pace even.

Crouch's interest in the dormitory attack wasn't normal. The way he'd probed for details, the way he'd guided the conversation—it all felt like he was gathering information about what Harry knew rather than offering protection.

And the worst part?

Harry knew that Crouch Jr. had been the one responsible.

He continued walking down the corridor but the moment he heard the door shut behind him, he fought the urge to lean against the wall and collapse.

Merlin's bloody beard.

He was fairly certain Moody was using his magical eye to watch him even now.

And Harry had no doubt that the fake Moody would continue watching.

I need to be ready.

Forcing himself to remain composed, Harry made his way through the dimly lit corridors. His heart pounded against his ribs, but outwardly, he looked calm.

It wasn't until he finally reached Gryffindor Tower and muttered the password that he allowed himself a fraction of relief.

The common room was empty, bathed in the soft glow of dying embers in the fireplace.

Harry climbed the stairs to the dormitory, stepping inside as quietly as he could.

His roommates were all asleep. The room was pristine, as if it had never been ransacked in the first place.

Finally, after what felt like hours of holding his breath, he let out a slow exhale.

Then, without bothering to change, he collapsed into his bed.

Harry knew one thing for certain.

Barty Crouch Jr. was dangerous.

Even worse, the man was watching him.

And yet that chilling thought, sleep took him within minutes.

Kind Regards,

FavoriteAuthor

If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.

Story Note 1 – Congrats to everyone who guessed Moody/BCJ was the one who stopped Harry! While Harry's performance likely wouldn't have fooled the real Moody I'd like to think he put on quite the performance and was quite successful in fooling BCJ, even offering him misleading information. That being said, at the very least Harry needs to be aware 'Moody' is growing a little suspicious of him!

Thanks to those of you out to those of you who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you enjoy them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or reach out to me directly.

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DarkRavie, jkarr, Guest - Thanks so much for the feedback and I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it progresses!

wsbenge - That is certainly what I was going for. But I agree the real Moody would certainly whip him into shape!

GBTtown - That's ... probably not too far from the real HP

SILVER WOLF - I had run into a little confusion when I posted this story on AO3 but I'll get it back up on there!

Guest - That's a good point and had originally had something else there but it took a way from the story a little by changing the dynamic between Harry and Fleur and accelerated the relationship and it was a little early for that.

Guest - You certainly aren't the only one to feel that way. But there is a significant amount of evidence that Harmony should have been how the story ended. Not that I have anything against Ron but ... him and Hermione ...

Hands Off MY Wolfie - Without a doubt Harry has been changing and even if he tried to hide it I would imagine those close to him and those watching him might see things.

llpi - I'll look into chapters but the Interlude chapters certainly make a mess of things.

Mionefan - I thought for the most part I am doing a pretty good gob. Certainly the first 20ish chapters were not where I am writing at right now. But this was the first story I started writing and as such my writing has changed (I'd like to say improved) significantly since I started. But once the story is shared I am planning to go back and rewrite the earlier chapters.

Dault3883 Barron Backslash - I had read those older Eragon books and liked how it tackled non-verbal magic. Saying that it was the language that gave magic structure. So borrowed the idea that non-verbal was a little wilder as it didn't have the structure and needed significantly more concentration. Maybe with time it would be better/safer. But he's still young.

Jostanos - Hope that was a fun wait!

DaveC - I had toyed with the idea of not having Harry in the Tournament but felt that it gave him a chance to interact with Fleur.

Fenrir070 - Was pretty good right! Ya this Harry is a little more aware of his relationships and while I don't doubt for a second he would still sacrifice himself for any of them at a moments notice. He realizes that he has stuff to live for as well. Really happy Dumbledore is coming off all right. Obviously there is certainly enough reasons to dislike/be disappointed with canon Dumbledore but there is also reasoning that he was trying to do the best (I chose to highlight these and try to make it more apparent). Haha while I think Ron/Lavender had alot more potential than Hermione/Ron I found the Won Won's a little much and will try to avoid unless it's a joke. As for Filch, that was a good guess. Haha had actually just read a fic about Filch being an actual badass which I loved. Don't think I had read anything like it before. But no this Filch is still just the same-ish as before.

Hudy Leak613 - That was a really good guess!

Monkey D. Conan - Haha ... what convo ... I really enjoyed writing that meeting. Good guesses! As for Malfoy he will certainly have a moment but it is not yet. Plus I imagine if he got caught sneaking into the dorms ... that would not be ideal for him. Love the comments!