After successfully restoring Sirius's natural black color, they hurriedly prepared to leave from Hogwarts grounds. The evening air had grown considerably cooler, and the first stars were beginning to appear in the darkening Scottish sky.
"We really must be going," Remus explained apologetically, adjusting his traveling cloak against the chill. "We need to make an urgent trip to Croatia tomorrow morning, bringing back some rare local magical specimens and ingredients that can only be harvested during the new moon. The timing is quite specific, I'm afraid, so we don't have much opportunity to linger here and celebrate properly."
The urgency in his voice showed this was more than a casual errand, though he didn't explain much. Sirius, now looking considerably more dignified in his restored black color, wagged his tail in what might have been either agreement or simple relief at his returned appearance.
After bidding warm farewells to the two Marauders, Adrian turned his attention to more pressing matters. His expression grew more serious as he walked toward where Dumbledore remained in conversation with the other judges.
Apart from Igor Karkaroff, who had left immediately after the controversial scoring incident with improper rush, and Bagman, who was apparently still conducting his dubious financial calculations among the damaged dragon eggs, the remaining three judges were still engaged in a discussion near the center of the arena.
"I still think that Fleur's score is somewhat—oh, Professor Westeros!" Madame Maxime was the first to notice Adrian approaching. She stopped her argument with Dumbledore and turned her gaze toward him. "What brings you here at this late hour?"
"I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore," Adrian replied calmly. "Professor Dumbledore, I have some rather critical news that I believe needs to be reported to you without delay."
Dumbledore's eyes, which had been focused on the ongoing discussion, immediately shifted to study Adrian's face with intense scrutiny. He was clearly somewhat taken aback by the serious tone in Adrian's voice.
"Please allow me to excuse myself for just a moment," Dumbledore said with politeness, nodding to both Madame Maxime and Barty Crouch. "I shall return to our discussion shortly."
Madame Maxime and Crouch showed no particular curiosity about this private talk as it seemed probably related to internal Hogwarts business. They resumed their conversation about scoring standards and magical creature regulations in lowered voices.
"I can only imagine this must be something of considerable importance," Dumbledore said gently once they were out of hearing range, though there was now a distinct note of alertness creeping into his calm demeanor.
His fingers absently stroked his silver beard as he prepared himself for whatever disturbing news Adrian was about to deliver. "What exactly have you discovered?"
Adrian glanced around to ensure their privacy before leaning closer and speaking in a whisper.
"It's about Barty Crouch. I have every reason to believe he's currently under the influence of the Imperius Curse."
"That is indeed troubling news," Dumbledore replied with amazing composure, though his eyes sharpened with immediate concern and calculation. "Perhaps I may ask what I hope is a reasonable question—how exactly have you come to know this rather specific information?"
Adrian had expected Dumbledore to be more surprised, but clearly the old headmaster was much more composed than he had imagined.
"I was able to sense the fluctuations of dark magic emanating from him," Adrian explained carefully. "This particular type of magical signature is rather... uniquely sensitive to me."
He cast his gaze toward Barty Crouch's distant figure, where the man stood engaged in conversation, showing no outer signs of magical compulsion. "I can say with absolute certainty that Mr. Crouch is currently under the influence of the Imperius Curse. This assessment is not speculation or guesswork."
Dumbledore's gaze became thoughtful and remarkably deep, as if he were considering not just Adrian's words but their broader implications for the tournament, for Hogwarts, and for the wider magical community.
"Your insight is most valuable, Adrian," He said finally, his voice carrying tones of both gratitude and grim determination. "I believe it would be wise for me to have a rather thorough and private conversation with Barty as soon as possible."
"Perhaps I might be able to offer some practical assistance in that regard," Adrian suggested with a slight smile.
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, already formulating plans, then began walking back toward Barty Crouch.
Half an hour later, as the Scottish sky had settled into the deep night and the castle's windows began to glow warmly with the light of evening meals and comfortable common rooms, the scene had shifted to the familiar environment of Dumbledore's office.
"Is there some particular reason this conversation requires the privacy of your office?" Barty Crouch asked as he sat stiffly into one of the chairs, looking expressionlessly at Dumbledore. "If this concerns specific details about the Triwizard Tournament schedule or the nature of future tasks, I must remind you that I am strictly prohibited from disclosing such classified information."
"Of course not, Barty," Dumbledore replied with gentle patience, sitting behind his desk. "The Triwizard Tournament is indeed a sacred competition with ancient traditions that must be respected. I would never dream of asking you to compromise the integrity of the event through inappropriate information sharing."
Crouch's frown deepened, creating wrinkled lines across his face. "Then what exactly is the purpose of this meeting? I have a rather important Ministry conference scheduled for later this evening, and I'm afraid my time is quite limited. There are urgent matters of international magical cooperation that require my immediate attention."
Rather than responding directly to the question, Dumbledore leaned back in his high-backed chair and studied Crouch's face with the kind of penetrating gaze that seemed to see directly into a person's soul.
"Barty," He said with genuine concern tinging his voice, "you seem remarkably tense and agitated lately. Much more so than I remember from our previous interactions. Are you quite certain you're feeling well?"
Crouch sighed heavily, as if the question had touched upon something he'd been trying to avoid recognizing.
"That would be due to an excessive number of troublesome administrative matters and political pressures," He replied with a weary tone.
"Perhaps that explains it," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "But tell me, Barty—do you feel that there might be something more wrong with your body?"
"My body?" Crouch appeared genuinely stunned by the directness of the question, his eyes widening with what might have been surprise or alarm. "What exactly do you mean by that? Are you suggesting I'm ill?"
Although he had to admit he'd been feeling rather more exhausted than usual in recent weeks, his overall health seemed reasonably stable.
At precisely that moment, Adrian approached from where he'd been standing quietly near the window. In his hands, he carried a cup filled with steaming tea that filled the office with a pleasant, herbal aroma.
"Tea, sir?" Adrian offered with attentive politeness.
"Oh, thank you very much," Crouch replied automatically, his ingrained social reflexes accepting the offered tea without any thought or suspicion. He lifted the cup to his lips and took what he intended to be a polite, appreciative sip.
"!"
The transformation occurred immediately.
The teacup slipped from Crouch's fingers as if his entire nervous system had been short-circuited, shattering on the floor.
His pupils contracted with shocking suddenness, while his hands flew up to clutch desperately at his throat as if he were choking on invisible bonds. His entire body trembled with spasms as he pitched forward from his chair, landing heavily on the carpet that covered the floor of Dumbledore's office.
"Urgh... ah... nggh..." Crouch's tries at speaking came out as incoherent mumbling and gasping, his face was rapidly draining of all color until it became an alarming ashen gray. His body wriggled and struggled on the floor like a man drowning in air.
Watching this disturbing spectacle happen, Dumbledore couldn't help but rise from his chair with concern, turning to look at Adrian with an expression that combined alarm with bewilderment.
"This is the special remedy you mentioned earlier?" He asked with worry, his composure cracked by the apparent severity of Crouch's reaction. "I must say, it appears more like some kind of lethal poison."
"Please remain calm, Headmaster Dumbledore," Adrian replied reassuringly. "Everything that's happening is within my expectations. Just observe—you can already see that it's beginning to take the desired effect."
As if beckoned by his words, thin wisps of black smoke began emerging from various points on Crouch's body. The dark vapor rose slowly into the air like escaping steam, gradually dissipating against the high ceiling of the office.
"The Imperius Curse, without any doubt," Seeing this, Adrian nodded with satisfaction.
"Though I must note that the degree of control wasn't particularly deep. My potion can handle this level. However, if we had waited even a few more days to attempt this, I fear the curse might have become so deeply embedded that I would have been completely powerless to reverse it."
"How terrible," Dumbledore murmured as he watched the sinister black smoke continue to pour from Crouch's body.
He waved his wand, transforming a quill on the desk into a crystal bottle.
Under his guidance, the black smoke slowly flowed into the crystal bottle, finally condensing into a constantly wriggling black, fog-like substance within the bottle.
After about three minutes, the crystal bottle was filled, and Crouch's body finally stopped emitting black smoke.
However, despite the apparent success of the procedure, he remained unconscious and unresponsive.
Adrian, recognizing the need for more direct intervention, drew his wand and conjured a large basin filled with ice-cold water. Without stopping, he overturned the entire contents over Crouch's unconscious body.
The effect was excellent.
Crouch's eyes snapped open wide, and he immediately began coughing violently while gasping desperately for air as if he had been drowning and had just broken to the surface. His entire body trembled, and his hands shook like he had just awakened from the most terrifying nightmare.
"This... what is this place?" He asked in a weak voice, his confused gaze moving back and forth between Dumbledore's concerned face and Adrian's watchful expression. "What happened to me? The last thing I remember was..."
Dumbledore crouched down and gently helped Crouch back into his chair. "Can you remember what just happened, Barty?"
Crouch's eyes gradually began to focus more clearly, though he still appeared deeply dazed and confused by his circumstances.
"I remember accepting the tea, and then... and then I collapsed," He said slowly. "But wait—what exactly did you do to me? Was I poisoned?"
"Nothing harmful, I assure you," Adrian interjected calmly. "But please, tell me—how are you feeling at this moment?"
Crouch was quiet for a moment, clearly registering his internal condition. Then, quite suddenly, he shivered as if someone had walked over his grave.
"Something has left my body," He said with the wondering tone of someone describing a terrible dream. "I can feel... an absence. Something that was there before is gone now."
"Exactly right!" Adrian exclaimed with obvious pleasure and relief. "Congratulations, Mr. Crouch. You are no longer under the influence of the Imperius Curse."
"The Imperius Curse?" Upon hearing this terrifying term spoken aloud, Crouch immediately widened his eyes with a combination of shock, horror, and new understanding. "Are you telling me that I was actually under the influence of the Imperius Curse? That someone has been controlling my actions?"
"Without any shadow of doubt," Adrian confirmed grimly, placing a reassuring hand on Crouch's shoulder.
"I believe that if you think carefully about recent weeks or months, you should be able to identify certain symptoms—perhaps periods of mental fogginess or confusion, or instances where you found yourself involuntarily taking actions that seemed uncharacteristic or contrary to your normal judgment. I suspect my assessment is quite accurate, isn't it?"
Crouch fell into deep, troubled thought as he began the uncomfortable process of examining his recent memories and behavior patterns with this new and horrifying context.
As the minutes passed in heavy silence, his expression grew increasingly grim and disturbed. The color that had begun to return to his cheeks drained away again as his situation became clear.
He was naturally no fool. Since the Imperius Curse, while controlling behavior and decision-making, could not completely erase or alter memories, he was able to recall numerous instances of abnormal thoughts, decisions, and actions.
His professional experience dealing with dark wizards and investigating magical crimes had also made him closely familiar with the typical effects and symptoms of the Imperius Curse.
Without any doubt, Adrian had not lied to him or exaggerated the situation. The evidence was overwhelming.
Dumbledore moved around from behind his desk and approached Crouch from behind, gently placing both hands on the shaken man's shoulders in a gesture of support and comfort.
"Barty," He said gently, "this next question may be difficult, but it's absolutely crucial that we understand the full scope of what has occurred. Can you remember anything, even the smallest detail about who might have been responsible for casting the Imperius Curse on you?"
Crouch was silent for a moment.
"It must have been those dark wizards," He said dryly after thinking for some time. "I have accumulated many enemies over the course of my career."
Adrian really wanted to tell him to be more suspicious of his own son.
However, clearly making such a specific and explosive accusation in this setting would be totally inappropriate.
He was, after all, just a Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts, with no official role in magical law enforcement or related intelligence operations.
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