Chapter 636: It seems you are finally crazy, Alastor!

Ivan gripped the wand tightly, and if he was spotted, he would do it immediately!

The sound of turning the door lock has stopped, the next moment, the door of the office was pushed open, and it was Barty Crouch who walked in!

The room was very quiet, the needle drop could be heard, and only the slight sound of closing the door reverberated.

In the distance, a roaring fireplace continuously transmits heat, dispelling the severe cold of December.

Ivan, who was in a state of invisibility, turned his head slightly to stare at Crouch, who had closed the door and walked in. Compared to the previous meeting, he was in a worse state. His eye sockets were deeply sunken and his expression depressed. Can't sleep well.

Seeing this, Ivan turned his gaze and scanned Crouch for a while, trying to find the kettle containing the compound soup, but he found nothing.

After hesitating, Barty Crouch has already stepped forward towards this side, apparently intending to sit down and take a rest.

Ivan held his breath and took a few steps back cautiously, so as not to directly collide with Crouch. He secretly rejoiced that this room was carpeted, otherwise Crouch would be able to hear him clearly when he was so close. Footsteps.

Even so, when Barty Crouch walked by, Ivan was still nervous to the extreme, for fear that the other party would see through his disguise, or find something wrong in some details.

Although they sorted out the things that had been moved before, because the time was too urgent, there was no time to restore them 100%.

In addition, the conspicuous depressions of the blankets on the ground may also expose their positions.

But everything Ivan worried about did not happen, Crouch seemed a little absent-minded, and had no intention of observing these details. The whole person leaned back on the chair, and his tight expression slowly relaxed.

The solemn, rigid face was no longer calm, full of pain, annoyance, and decadence.

For twenty minutes, Crouch remained motionless, slumped in a chair, staring straight at the daily prophet.

Ivan stared at Crouch's every move. He tried to analyze the other party's state of mind from Crouch's expression and actions. In the end, he vaguely thought of a possibility, but he was not sure.

A hand stretched out out of thin air and took the magic wand.

At the same time, the phantom spell blessed on Moody's body also lost its effect, and his figure quickly appeared in this office.

Barty Crouch has experienced the Wizarding War. Even when he is old, he doesn't react slowly. He takes a heavy blow from the front and his body rolls several times and quickly stands up.

The fireplace in front is already near Chichi, as long as he throws the Floo powder in his hand, he can escape from here smoothly...

A few thoughts flashed through Barty Crouch's mind, but it was a pity that they were interrupted before they could implement it-because a sharp object was pressing against his neck.

Then, a slightly childish voice rang in his ears.

"Leave me away from the fireplace, Mr. Crouch, and throw away the Floo fans. It's best not to let me see you doing little tricks in private..."

Barty Crouch ignored the voice, let alone intending to do so, his gaze turned to the other side of the office.

"Alastor!" Barty Crouch looked at Moody's word by word his face was full of incredulous expressions.

But he knew better what Moody's presence here meant, and his anger immediately filled his heart.

"It seems that you are finally crazy, Alastor! You broke into my office without consent, investigated my personal belongings, and took someone to attack me..."

Batty Crouch spoke harshly, but before he could finish speaking, a beam of light struck him, flew past his head, hit the window, and shattered the thick glass.

"Shut up, listen to him, do it, and immediately throw away the Floo fans! Don't let us say it a second time! You should know how I will deal with a prisoner!" Moody roared loudly, the tip of the wand faintly flashing The crimson red light may be emitted at any time.

Barty Crouch stared at Moody, seeming to be measuring whether the other party had the courage to do it.

But talking about courage with a neurotic madman is tantamount to asking for trouble. Barty Crouch can’t measure whether Moody’s is mad enough, so he is still softened. He loosens his tightly held left hand. In this way, the mass of powder slowly slipped from his palm.