Chapter 499: Mr. Crouch Appears!!
Harry reached into his pocket and gripped his wand.
He scanned the surroundings warily.
Sure enough, a moment later, a man stumbled out from the shadows.
Harry saw his face clearly.
Mr. Crouch.
It was Barty Crouch Sr., whom he hadn't seen in a long time.
He looked like he hadn't bathed for days.
His face was covered in stubble, his clothes were torn and filthy, and his hair was tangled and wild—like a vagrant off the street.
He was muttering to himself nonstop.
"He… he looks like a referee… someone from your Ministry of Magic."
Krum stared for a while before finally recognizing him.
Harry nodded.
He stepped out of the grass.
But a hand suddenly grabbed his arm.
"It's me!"
Harry turned in surprise.
It was Darren.
"I just sent Miss Fleur Delacour back and hurried over."
"Luckily I made it in time. You must have run into something… is this… Mr. Crouch?"
Darren looked as though he had only just recognized him, his mouth falling open in shock.
"Yes. Let's go closer and see what's going on. How did he end up like this?"
Darren nodded.
He raised his wand and moved to the front.
"…Wesby… when you're done with this, send an owl to tell Dumbledore…"
"Durmstrang has twelve students competing…"
Mr. Crouch muttered incoherently.
He kept waving his hands in the air.
He looked completely unhinged.
"Mr. Crouch?"
Darren called out softly.
Crouch's eyes rolled upward.
As if he suddenly regained awareness, he lunged forward and grabbed Darren's robe tightly.
Darren tried to pull away, but Crouch's grip was surprisingly strong.
Crouch swallowed repeatedly, his throat working as he struggled to speak.
Harsh, broken sounds came out of his mouth.
"You… slow down… don't rush…"
"Brother—go to Headmaster Dumbledore, quickly!"
Darren raised his voice.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Krum beside Darren.
He nodded and sprinted toward the castle.
Mr. Crouch's expression eased slightly.
But he still spoke in a frantic, disjointed way.
"…Darren… you are Darren Potter… Dumbledore's man…"
"Harry Potter is going to…"
"You must be careful…"
"My son…"
"The Dark Lord is going to rise…"
His words were completely fragmented, impossible to piece together into a full sentence.
Darren said calmly, "Don't worry. I'll relay everything you've said to Headmaster Dumbledore. Go on."
With his wand, he recorded every word Mr. Crouch spoke—even the meaningless muttering.
That seemed to give Mr. Crouch a bit of strength.
He forced out, "Warn Dumbledore… he…"
Suddenly his eyes bulged.
Then he collapsed back into his previous delirious state.
"Tell Wesby… tell Dumbledore… send an owl…"
"Son… Dad will definitely become Minister of Magic this time…"
"Look at my son… he's a prefect now… he definitely can…"
"Look at my wife… she's beautiful, isn't she?"
Mr. Crouch rambled on endlessly.
Krum frowned.
"He's like a madman now."
"Yes."
Darren sighed.
"We need to—"
He was just about to say they should take Mr. Crouch back to the castle—
When a familiar voice interrupted.
"Darren, what are you doing here?"
It was Moody.
"Professor Moody. This is Mr. Crouch."
"We were planning to take him back to the castle and hand him over to Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry has already gone to call for help."
Darren spoke without hesitation.
He figured Moody had come to deal with the aftermath.
After all, Crouch shouldn't have been allowed to wander out like this—only to run into them by chance.
Moody did look tense.
"In that case, I'll take him back."
"Oh, by the way, Darren—try this pumpkin juice."
"I just went out to buy it. Your lips look dry and cracked."
Moody said with a smile.
Something about it felt off.
Even Krum instinctively wanted to warn Darren to be careful.
But Darren glanced at it, opened the cup, and took two small sips.
"Professor… this juice has Draught of Living Death in it… you—"
He spoke as if only realizing it at that moment.
But the others had already collapsed to the ground.
Krum staggered back in panic.
"You—what are you trying to—"
His words never finished.
A spell struck him.
"Hmph. You think you're Darren, that I need to explain myself to you?"
Moody sneered.
He pressed his wand to Krum's head.
"Obliviate."
Then he placed the wand against Darren's temple.
He hesitated.
"This shouldn't have happened… but the young master can't know about this yet…"
"…That's it. I'm sorry."
"Forget."
---
Harry sprinted back toward the castle, heart pounding.
Five minutes later, he was already standing in front of Dumbledore's office.
Two ugly stone gargoyles guarded the entrance.
"Chilled lemon drops!"
Harry shouted.
A sharp pain tore through his throat.
He tasted blood in his mouth and windpipe.
He didn't actually know the password to Dumbledore's office.
But he thought that as long as Dumbledore was inside, something would happen.
To his surprise—
The stone statue didn't move at all.
And then—
"Potter."
It was Snape.
Snape emerged from behind the stone gargoyle, stepping down from the spiral staircase leading to Dumbledore's office.
He stared at Harry, confusion flashing across his face.
"What are you doing here?"
Harry ignored their usual hostility.
"It's Mr. Crouch! He appeared in the forest!"
"Krum was with him, and Darren—Darren was there too! I came to find Dumbledore—"
"Nonsense!"
Snape snapped coldly.
"How could Mr. Crouch be there?"
"Potter, if you came here to waste my time—"
"Listen to me!"
Harry said desperately.
"There's definitely something wrong with Crouch showing up today."
"He kept saying strange things, and he was about to—"
"In short, let me see Dumbledore!"
"Headmaster!"
Snape still didn't move aside.
He said slowly, "I think there are things you can tell me instead—"
"Really, you have to believe me, he—"
Harry didn't finish.
Because the door to Dumbledore's office opened.
Dumbledore stepped out, wearing a green dressing gown.
He looked puzzled.
"What's going on? What happened now?"
"Mr. Crouch appeared in the forest."
Harry blurted out.
"Something was very wrong with him. Darren restrained him, and told me to come get you immediately!"
"Why didn't you say that earlier?!"
Snape roared angrily.