Barty laughed with great delight. He didn't mean to brag, but he thought himself highly clever in thinking up a plan the Doctor could not. In mere moments, the Cybermen would be exploding like Filibuster fireworks if the Doctor managed to catch on to his hints (which he definitely would).

'It's only a matter of time now,' Barty thought as he swished around the firewhisky in his glass. If he had to give one thing to Time Lords, it was that they could handle their liquor; his head remained clear even after a few glasses of the strongest alcoholic wizarding drink. Still, there was one more thing he needed from Lumic, so he feigned drunkenness as a means of diverting suspicion.

"Has it occurred to you that you are technically speaking with an alien at this very moment? Isn't… isn't that somethin'?" he slurred, leaning back in his chair, staring dazedly up at the ceiling. "Fifty… no… thousands—that's right. Thousands of years of human history, wondering if we are alone in this universe—and here you are, talkin' to an alien! You lucky son of a banshee, you! Wish I got to talk to aliens," he sighed dreamily. "Imagine seeing all those stars, and… BAM! A funny little green Martian waves at ya."

"You are an alien now," Lumic pointed out, amused by his drunken antics.

Barty frowned. He lifted up a hand and looked it over before scoffing.

"I'm a Martian? That's weird… how come m'not green?" he asked thoughtfully. He leaned back even further in his chair and toppled over. Laying flat on his back upon the emerald carpet, he laughed goofily and continued staring at his hand.

"No. You are a Time Lord—one who clearly cannot handle his liquor," Lumic shook his head and pointed his wand at the glass in Barty's hand. Just as Barty was about to take another generous sip of firewhisky, whose contents sloshed over his scorched blue suit jacket, the glass flew out of his hand and settled back on the desk.

Barty's eyes lit up as he saw this, a mad grin stretching across his face. He looked like a kid who had the whole lot of Honeydukes all to himself.

"Ooh! Magic!" Barty suddenly exclaimed, sitting up excitedly. "Don't you just love it? Wand waving and spells—all that magicky-magic stuff! I love spells… they're like Bertie Bott's beans—you never quite know what you're going to get… no wait… that's regeneration I'm thinkin' of," he knitted his brows in a thoughtful look before exclaiming, "OH! Pepper Imps!"

"You are comparing magic to some wizarding candy?" Lumic questioned.

"No, I was just hungry. But, now that you mention it, magic is sort of like a Pepper Imp," Barty chewed on the thought as he clumsily set the chair back right. He feigned nearly slipping off of it again for good measure before he sat down. "Castin' spells fills you with a sort of… fire, doesn't it? And you… you came up with one yourself to swap me and the Doc," he said in awe, pointing a wobbly finger just over Lumic's head at the glowing crack in the wall. "How'd ya do it?"

"It was nothing," Lumic waved off, yet the proudness in his voice was not lost upon Barty.

"C'mon! Tell me!" Barty implored excitedly, leaning forward, literally on the edge of his seat. "I could never do anythin' like that… Well, I definitely cannae now, huh?" he chuckled heartily. "I 'spect it took every ounce of cunning you possess."

Lumic smiled haughtily. "Indeed it did. It took me weeks of dedicated research—all done by myself mind you."

"Ya don't believe me… hol' on… strike that, reverse it," Barty frowned, looking at Lumic skeptically. "C'mon! No way you did it by yourself."

"I tell you, I did. I didn't need your father's help up here," Lumic tapped his head, scowling, "if that's what you're thinking."

Barty scoffed and slurred drunkenly, "Oh yeah? Prove it, Muggle."

"I don't need to prove anything to you," Lumic scorned.

"Ya got no proof, then. You got no proof," Barty taunted in a sing-song voice.

"Like hell I don't."

When Lumic began to shift through the papers stacked upon his desk, Barty fought the urge to jump into the air and whoop in triumph. 'I'm very good!' he mentally praised himself. For an alleged, self-proclaimed genius, Lumic fell for his act—hook, line, and sinker. And now the man was going to show him exactly what he wanted.

Just as Lumic procured the yellowing pages sandwiched between the medical examination reports, there was an ear-splitting BANG! The two of them jumped up, startled by the sudden noise as it began to echo. It was as though a cacophony of deafening firecrackers were sounding off in the hallways.

"What the—?" Lumic muttered. He dropped the papers, which was evidently parchment, and strode over to his office door.

'Thank you, Doctor,' Barty thought with immense delight when he saw scraps of metal flying around the hallways once the door sprung open.

Seeing that Lumic was distracted as he swept out of the office, Barty seized the opportunity and dove forward at the desk, snatching up the parchment. Once Barty looked through the crinkled pages, his hearts leapt with joy. Everything was on there—from the theory to miscellaneous notes, to the actual spell itself. All of it. And with these notes, he and the Doctor could swap back; finally ending this entire hellish experience.

Deciding to make a hasty exit, Barty stashed the loose parchment inside his long, tan trench coat before leaping atop the desk. Right as he grabbed onto the edge of the grate of the open vent he'd fallen out of what felt like ages ago, Lumic came back into the room. His face was red, a vein throbbing in his temple.

"I'll get him! That Doctor! He's behind all of this! He's destroyed my precious Cybermen! I know it! I will make him pay! I—" Lumic paused mid-rant, his jaw going slack when he spotted a clearly sober Barty trying to make his escape. It took him a moment to put two-and-two together before he practically blew his top, his mustache twitching in furious anger. "YOU! YOU DID THIS!"

"Consider this my resignation. I wouldn't want to be a part of a club that would have me as a member," Barty said brightly, flashing an impish grin.

"CROUCH!"

Barty was about to hoist himself into the vent, when without warning, a jet of red light came streaming at him. He didn't have time to dodge the nonverbal spell as it struck him dead in the stomach and sent him flying back towards the wall with the chipped paint. Fully prepared to come in contact with the solid wall, Barty was taken aback when, instead, he found himself swallowed by the glowing crack upon it.

Barty shut his eyes. He could feel burning hot ice prickling upon his skin as he fell to who knows where. It was like a never-ending fall into an endless pit as he spun fast—the roaring in his ears deafening. It felt like he had fallen for hours before there was a sudden whoosh of air. After nothing but the sense of weightlessness engulfing him, he coughed on ash as he fell, face forward, colliding hard with solid ground. There was a gruesome snap. Barty felt his nose break as blood spurted on the dusty floorboards.

Feeling like he had just traveled via Floo Powder for the very first time, covered in soot, Barty got gingerly to his knees as he ignored the blood gushing from his broken nose. He was in an old, dilapidated parlor that was caked with grime—from the chairs and sofa circling the filthy fireplace right behind him, to the forgotten piano beside the broken window, whose tattered curtains danced in the crisp, summer morning breeze.

As he dusted himself off, Barty surmised that he was inside the Shrieking Shack, going off the Doctor's earlier words about the crack residing there. He heard rumors about the haunted nature of the place during his days at Hogwarts, but had never set foot inside it before.

It took him a few moments for him to realize it, but once he did, Barty couldn't help but grin when he found that he was back in the Wizarding World—his home. He laughed in glee, over the moon about this sudden turn of events, when just as quickly, his joy vanished; the beating of his twin hearts instantly reminded him of the dire situation he was in. Reminded him that he no longer had magic. Reminded him that he was no longer a wizard, but an alien in his own world—and quite literally at that.

Barty couldn't help but notice that it also sounded awfully quiet. The soothing humming inside his head was gone. He figured that the TARDIS was most likely unable to connect to his mind due to the long distance between their separated universes. While Barty had complained about the incessant noise earlier, the sudden vacuum of quiet now disturbed him. It was as though the lone calming presence grounding him to reality abruptly vanished without a trace.

A metal clanging from behind broke Barty out of his reverie. He jumped to his feet, completely startled, when he found a Cyberman standing a few feet away from him.

"Woah! That's cheating!" said Barty. He backed away towards the piano as the Cyberman began to march forward. 'It must have survived the implosion by hiding out in this universe,' he mused.

"You will be deleted!" the Cyberman grated out. Barty could see that its chestplate was singed and exposed with wiring.

"You can't do that. It's in your programming," Barty calmly responded. When the Cyberman continued to march forward, unrelenting, Barty gulped, tripping over the piano stool. "Hold on! No… You can't do this!"

"You will be deleted!"

"Wait! Hold on! Your Master… he programmed you not to harm me!"

"I have no Master."

"Yes, you do—my father, Barty Crouch… I mean John Lumic! Lumic! He's your Master! He won't let you harm me!" Barty argued, his hand banging on a few loose piano keys as he staggered back up.

"I have no Master. You will be deleted," the Cyberman repeated, gaining closer on him.

"Wait! What if I told you I was the Doctor! You know him, yeah? The Doctor?" Barty quickly shifted tact. He stepped back, nearing the broken window.

The Cyberman paused for a few seconds. It then grated out, "Sensors recognize a binary vascular system. Subject recognized as a Time Lord. You are the Doctor."

"Yes, yes I am!" Barty lied with a relieved smile.

"You are the sworn enemy of the Cybermen."

"What?" Barty faltered, his smile fading.

"You will be deleted!"

"What!? No… Wait!" Barty pleaded as his back banged against the ledge of the windowsill. He hastily dug through his pockets in desperate search of the sonic screwdriver to help him out like it had done for him earlier, but the only thing he came up with was that blasted cricket ball. Remembering that the Doctor had taken the sonic back in the holding cell, Barty cursed aloud, "Bloody Doctor!"

"Delete! Delete!"

Barty glanced down at the cricket ball in his hand. Thinking of nothing else he could do, he launched it at the Cyberman. The ball bounced harmlessly off the Cyberman's head and ricocheted into the fireplace, where it disappeared in a flash of blinding, white light.

Nowhere to run, Barty contemplated the favorability of risking a neck injury to that of facing a Cyberman's deletion. It turned out he didn't have to make a choice at all, for the metallic hand of the Cyberman closed itself around his throat and effortlessly lifted him off his feet.

Somehow, Barty found himself still able to breathe. He figured it had something to do with not having lungs as the Doctor, when the Time Lord's memories came helpfully flooding in without prompting, relaying something about a respiratory bypass system that would help him survive the Cyberman's strangulation.

Still, Barty tried to prise its hands off his throat as he choked out in an attempt to speak with it.

"You can't—"

But the Cyberman wasn't much one for words as it marched forward and held Barty out of the window, which overlooked the dewy, overgrown grass surrounding the Shrieking Shack. Even if Barty could manage to call for help, no witch or wizard would have been able to hear him, for the Shack stood a ways outside the main streets of Hogsmeade.

Desperately wishing he still had his magic, Barty gazed into the hollow, emotionless eye sockets of the Cyberman. His legs dangled in the air, trying to find a foothold or at least something to catch him and prevent the inevitability of what was going to happen. The Doctor's body could withstand a lot, but Barty doubted that it could survive a frightening fall from the highest window of the Shrieking Shack.

"You will be deleted!" the Cyberman grated out.

"Please! You—can't—do—this!" Barty choked as the metallic hand tightened its grip around his neck. He coughed on his own blood, which continued to drip down his face and sickeningly into his mouth. And it truly was nauseating, for his enhanced Time Lord senses allowed him to taste everything within it from the proteins right down to the exact iron levels and type.

"Delete! Delete! Del—"

There was a flash of light and a resounding crackle. The Cyberman suddenly froze; its metallic fingers loosened their grip as it fell back with a thud. Barty's reflexes were quick; he barely managed to grab hold of the rickety wooden ledge outside of the broken window right before gravity gave way. He saved himself from a dangerous fall reflective of the Doctor's fourth incarnation, which of course flashed through his mind uncontrollably.

Trying his best to drive away the grisly memory that was not his own, Barty winced as he pulled himself up, thinking, 'What in the name of Rassilon just happened?'

His question was answered within seconds when he spotted an all-too familiar tiny creature with bat-like ears standing before the fallen Cyberman, its hands covering its eyes. Barty's jaw dropped, instantly recognizing who the house-elf was.

"Winky!" he called out to the magical creature who had served his family for generations. The termite-ridden ledge creaked and nearly gave way as it tilted. As it did so, for a fleeting second of panic, Barty shouted, "Winky! Help!"

But Winky appeared quite shaken up by what had happened, not removing her hands from her enormous brown eyes.

Carefully pushing himself up so that the ledge did not give way any further, Barty managed to grab hold of the inside of the windowsill. He ignored the pain as one of the broken shards of glass sliced his palm and he tumbled back inside the Shrieking Shack.

Once he caught his breath, Barty went over to the fallen Cyberman and crouched next to it. He didn't think twice to plunge his hand within the exposed wiring and circuitry on the Cyberman's chestplate, which felt quite fleshy.

"You hit the Cyberman with some sort of magic that managed to send off an electromagnetic disturbance powerful enough to fry it from the inside out. Zap!" Barty couldn't help but grin as he stared at the fallen Cyberman. He was so distracted by it, that he didn't notice the bright glow of the crack intensifying behind him.

Barty removed his hand from the Cyberman's chestplate and dusted them. He was about to stand back up, when something collided hard with his leg. Looking down, he found Winky clutching tightly onto him, as though she didn't want to let him go. Barty rolled his eyes, knowing how dedicated and protective Winky could get.

"You can let go, Winky. I have some important business to take care of and you don't need to get involved," said Barty, wrenching the house-elf off his leg.

He stood up and took a few steps over to the fireplace, when he nearly tripped up. Some sort of invisible force prevented him from walking another step forward. Recognizing the same brand of house-elf magic that held him back during the riot at the Quidditch World Cup, Barty whipped around to face Winky.

"I is sorry, but Master says if you comes here, not to lets you goes," Winky apologized, trembling.

"Winky, you do not serve my family any longer. Whatever orders my father gave you can be tossed out. Now break the connection," Barty raised his voice. Out of all the things, he was not going to let a house-elf's relentless dedication to some silly old orders get in his way of swapping back with the Doctor.

"Amazing creatures house-elfs," Lumic's voice rang out maliciously. Barty whirled around, and saw the man standing in front of the fireplace dusting off soot from his suit. "Funny how dedicated they are to the Masters even after being granted their freedom. That one there obeys my every command. She lives to serve me."

Realization dawned upon Barty that Lumic must have made contact with the house-elf during his travel between worlds. Barty groaned in frustration as he struggled to pull away from Winky's connection holding him back.

"Winky, that's not my father! Don't listen to him! Whatever he told you these past few months, forget about it! That's an order!" Barty yelled.

He added the last part in hopes she would listen to him, but Winky made no move to free him of his restraints. She simply stood there, tears dripping down her tomato-like nose.

"I is sorry. But I is a good elf. I listen to my Master's orders," Winky wailed, sobbing noisily. She was completely beside herself.

Barty let out a shout of exasperation as he stumbled forward. Winky's magic had a much firmer hold on him compared to last time. As though that weren't the only thing he had to contend with, a headache began to flare. Barty winced; he fought to suppress the memories from a past that was not his own for the umpteenth time that day.

"You shouldn't have betrayed me, Crouch," Lumic said coolly, stepping forward.

Barty barely had time to duck down, laying flat on his stomach as a jet of orange light came soaring at him. The spell instead hit the fallen Cyberman, which began to tremble before it exploded into hundreds of tiny metal pieces. Barty shielded himself from the shrapnel as best he could, his hands covering his aching head.

Seeing the Cyberman explode flooded Barty's mind with another tidal wave of the Doctor's memories. Forcing himself to his knees, he tried to push away a scene where he was in another parallel world with Rose Tyler and Mickey Smith, facing off against another version of John Lumic, who had turned himself into a Cyberman… 'No… that's not me… I never did that…' Barty reminded himself, gritting his teeth as he faced the Lumic standing arrogantly in front of him.

"It's over, Lumic. Your Cybermen are destroyed—every single last one of them. There's no point in keeping me like this anymore. Swap me and the Doctor back!" Barty snarled. He fell as he tried to stand back up, tripping over the invisible restraint, tugging a crying Winky forward a few inches.

Lumic threw his head back in a crazed laughter. He lazily directed his wand at Barty. "No, no, no. You—you destroyed everything I worked towards. I spent countless years perfecting my Cybermen at the cost of my own health. My wonderful creations are gone all because of you. And now you are going to pay."

A stream of red light struck the piano; its fragile legs gave way and it fell with a noisy crash. Barty coughed on the dust that filled the air and got to his feet, staring defiantly at Lumic.

"Go ahead. I'd like to see you try. You kill me, I'll just regenerate," challenged Barty, calling his bluff.

"Kill you? Oh no, that would be letting you off far too easily. What I had in mind is something more fitting," said Lumic, lifting his wand. "Rictusempra!"

Barty was struck with a jet of silver light. He fell to his knees, doubling up as he wheezed with laughter. He could barely move as the Tickling Charm worked its effects on him.

"Ha ha ha! Look—look at you! Ha ha! That's the best—ha ha ha—you—got? Ha ha ha ha ha!" he laughed uncontrollably.

A cruel smile curled on Lumic's face. He raised his wand. There was a bang, and Barty felt himself flying backwards; the connection tying him to Winky broke off, and he slammed against a crumbling wall and slid down to the floor, a thick layer of dust and shards of wood littering him. But all Barty did was laugh, clutching a stitch in his side, trying to catch his breath. The Tickling Charm was still working its magic upon him.

"I meant it when I said I sought out a Time Lord to be my second-in-command. But why just settle for the Doctor when I can have you, as well?" Lumic said. He crossed over the ancient, creaking floorboards, keeping his wand leveled at the slumped Barty. "Having the power of time and space at my very fingertips? Why, I will have all the time in the world to rebuild my Cybermen empire. And you will help me out, whether you like it or not."

As Lumic spoke, all Barty could do was laugh on the outside. On the inside, however, Barty's hearts were racing, racked in an apprehensive foreboding. He had to escape now more than ever before. Lumic definitely had no qualms about placing him under the Imperius Curse.

The more Barty thought about it, the more he felt weakened with laughter. His head began to pound in an aching pain. Dizzying visions of the Doctor's past began to dance in front of his sight, slipping through his defenses of Occlumency.

"You—ha ha ha—after all that talk—ha ha—y-you liar! Ha ha ha!" Barty chortled incoherently, but Lumic only sneered as he strode up to him.

"I had the decency to give you a chance to join me out of your own volition. It's just that you seem to be in need of a, uh… push in the right direction to see my way of things. Of course, it will be easy, considering you had trouble fighting back the Imperius Curse for twelve years the first time around."

Lumic aimed his wand at the window next to Barty, and made a slashing motion; the glass pieces fell away showering Barty—a few of them nicking his face and hands. Barty howled with a mixture of laughter and pain, his hands laced through his thick brown hair as more of the Doctor's memories came flooding at him like a rushing current—him and Donna outrunning the giant wasp while meeting Agatha Christie in the 1920s… His old nemesis in the Master, dying in his arms, cementing him as the last of his kind… Him and the ever-so brilliant Martha Jones defeating the Carrionites with help from William Shakespeare… His regeneration into his current form….

Barty found it hard to breathe. He couldn't take it any longer. He was going mad… practically having a fit. The effects of the Tickling Charm had waned away, but he still laughed uncontrollably, unable to drive away the Doctor's mind with Occlumency any longer. It was enveloping him, scorching his head as though an icy fire flickered within it.

"W-Winky… ha ha ha! D-don't just stand there! Ha ha ha—Help—h-help m-me—HA HA HA HA HA!" Barty collapsed on his side, curling up as he convulsed.

But Winky made no move to assist him. Her tiny feet quaked while she continued to sob.

"Have you forgotten? Those pitiful elves are bound to their Masters. I found her months ago and granted her permission to work for me… again. She believes me to be your father, and since you no longer are related by blood being in the Doctor's body, she will not respond to a word you say. That elf is loyal only to me and me alone, just as you will be shortly," Lumic scorned. He stood over Barty, glaring down upon him vengefully, his wand aimed steadily at him.

Seeing this caused another tidal wave to storm through Barty's mind… He was in Ice World, dangling precariously off the edge of a glacial cliff, when the scene suddenly shifted and Barty found himself back in his old bedroom… Azkaban had left him frail, weakened in the year he had spent rotting there… His father didn't hesitate to direct his wand right at him… His own son… A myriad of spells shot out to restrain him….

When the vision cleared, Barty saw Lumic standing over him in an eerily identical manner as his father had that fateful night.

"You should have joined me when you had the chance, Crouch. You could have been my heir to a great Cybermen empire… You could have been close to me, almost like a son…."

Barty couldn't take it any longer… His head was surely going to burst open from the blistering volcanic storm taking place within it… He screamed in immense pain.

His ears were ringing… It was as though he were being submerged deep underwater… Blurred patches of colorful sparks seemed to explode within the Shrieking Shack… The fire blazed even greater inside Barty's head, yet he shivered… It was like frostbite encompassing the very depths of his soul, chilling it with a burning pain as the Doctor's mind collapsed upon him in a brilliant golden flash.