It Seems You've Finally Gone Mad, Alastor!

Ivan gripped his wand, ready to strike if he was caught!

The sound of the lock turning had stopped, and the next moment, the office door opened and Barty Crouch walked in!

The room was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, and the only sound was the soft click of the door closing.

In the distance, the heat from the roaring fireplace was spreading, driving off the December chill.

Ivan, still invisible, turned his head slightly to watch Crouch as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was in an even worse state than when they had last met. His eyes were deeply sunken and he looked very down, as if he had not slept for days.

Seeing this, Ivan turned his eyes to Crouch for a moment, trying to find the kettle containing the Polyjuice Potion, but he found nothing.

As she hesitated, Barty Crouch approached her, looking as if he wanted to sit down and relax.

Ivan held his breath and took a few cautious steps back so as not to collide with Crouch, secretly glad that the room was carpeted, otherwise Crouch would have heard his footsteps.

Even so, Ivan was extremely nervous when Barty Crouch walked past him, fearing that he would see through his disguise or notice something amiss.

Although they had sorted through the items that had been moved, they had not been able to restore them to 100 percent in time.

The obvious indentations in the blanket on the floor also gave away their position.

However, none of Ivan's fears were realized, and Crouch seemed too distracted to be interested in the details. He leaned back in his chair, his tense expression relaxing.

The stern, old-fashioned face lost its composure and was filled with pain, frustration, and defeat.

For twenty minutes, Crouch sat motionless in his chair, staring at the Daily Prophet.

Ivan watched Crouch's every move, trying to discern his mental state from his expression and movements. Eventually, he came up with a vague possibility, but could not be certain.

At that moment, a blue flame erupted from the fireplace and Ivan turned to see a grey-white owl flying out of the flames.

Crouch, who also saw this, was very excited. He rose from his seat, took the letter from the owl's feet, and examined it with trembling hands.

After reading the contents of the letter, Crouch's expression changed, and his excitement disappeared. He was so depressed that he looked like a volcano about to erupt!

There was a long silence, during which Crouch's knuckles tightened on the letter, and then his face contorted in anger, and he kicked the mahogany table in front of him.

"Trash!"

With a dull thud, the documents and newspapers on the table fell to the ground, and the ink bottle that had been sitting on the corner of the table rolled to the ground.

What a waste of time! Ivan rolled his eyes. If they'd known this was going to happen, they wouldn't have bothered tidying up.

This was not the time to dwell on it, however. Yvonne was more curious about what the letter contained that would make Crouch so angry.

He strained his neck in an attempt to read the letter, but Crouch was too far away for him to see anything unless he was willing to risk walking up to him.

After venting his frustration, Barty Crouch slowly calmed down. He waved his wand to restore the table and the scattered documents, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and headed for the fireplace.

Ivan could tell Barty Crouch was getting ready to leave, and he frowned, wondering if he should do it now.

The letter could prove to be very important evidence, and if Crouch was allowed to leave, there would not be another such opportunity.

As Ivan hesitated, a scarlet beam of light flew through the air and Moody's voice echoed through the office.

"Excellarmus ~ (excluding your weapon)!"

Crouch did not expect to be ambushed in his office and was struck by the spell. He was thrown back against the back wall as if he had been hit by a bull, and his wand flew out of his hand, spinning to one side.

A hand appeared out of thin air and took the wand.

At the same time, the Disillusionment Charm that had been placed on Moody lost its effect, and he was soon in the office.

Barty Crouch had been through the Wizarding War, and even though he was old, his reflexes were not slow. He took a heavy blow to the face, and his body rolled several times before he quickly stood up.

The fireplace in front of him was just inches away. All he had to do was throw the Floo powder in and he would be able to escape…

Thoughts flashed through Barty Crouch's mind, but they were cut short before they could be carried out — as something sharp was pressed against his neck.

Then a slightly childish voice spoke in his ear.

"Get away from the fireplace, Mr. Crouch, and get rid of that Floo powder. You'd better not let me see you trying anything funny in private…"

Barty Crouch ignored the voice and made no move to do as he was told, looking across the office.

"Alastor!" Barty Crouch said, enunciating each word with a look of disbelief on his face.

However, he had a better idea of what Moody's presence meant, and anger filled him.

"It seems you've finally lost your mind, Alastor! Breaking into my office without permission, investigating my personal effects, and leading an attack on me…"

Barty Crouch spoke sharply, but before he could finish, a beam of light struck him and flew past his head, hitting the window and shattering the thick glass.

"Shut up, listen to him, do as he says, and get rid of the Floo powder immediately! Don't make us say it again! You know exactly how I would deal with a prisoner!" Moody roared, the tip of his wand glowing red and threatening to fire.

Barty Crouch stared hard at Moody, as if trying to gauge whether he had the nerve to attack.

However, discussing courage with a deranged lunatic was akin to asking for trouble, and Barty Crouch, unable to measure whether Moody was completely insane or not, relented and released his clenched left hand, causing a cloud of powder to slide slowly from his palm.