Chapter 669 Mr. Crouch Is Furious
"Harry, what's happening?"
Harry put a finger to his lips, gazing intently at the spot where he had seen movement.
He reached into his robe, searching for his wand. He was certain someone was there!
Someone was following them, but who?!
In the forest, a strange silence prevailed, only interrupted by the sound of the night wind.
"God, look at that!" exclaimed Ron, pointing to the other side.
Harry and Hermione turned hastily, seeing a man emerge unsteadily from behind a tall oak tree.
The atmosphere was tense, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't recognize him at first...
Then they realized it was Mr. Crouch.
He looked as if he had been wandering for days. The knees of his robes were torn and bloody, his face scratched; he was unkempt and gray from exhaustion. His hair and mustache were unkempt and in desperate need of washing and trimming.
He appeared peculiar, but what was most bizarre was his behavior. Mr. Crouch seemed to be conversing with someone only he could see. He kept muttering and gesturing incessantly.
As soon as Harry saw him, he recalled an old vagabond he had seen while shopping with the Dursleys.
That man had also been frantically talking to the air. Aunt Petunia had taken Dudley's hand and led him across the street to avoid him. Then, Uncle Vernon ranted at length about what he would do with beggars and vagabonds.
"God, it's Mr. Crouch, what's happening?" Hermione fretted.
"He seems to be beside himself!" Ron commented, horrified.
"Be careful!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at Mr. Crouch.
He didn't have time to ponder why the voice he had just heard was coming from the opposite direction of Crouch, but he inexplicably felt the danger.
He hesitated for a moment, then approached Mr. Crouch slowly, who wasn't looking at him but continued speaking to a nearby tree.
"...and when you're done, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students attending the tournament; Karkaroff just sent word they would be twelve..."
"Mr. Crouch!" said Harry.
"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, as she may wish to increase the number of students she's bringing now that Karkaroff has settled on a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will you..."
Mr. Crouch's eyes were unfocused. He continued staring at the tree, murmuring softly to it. Then he stumbled to the side and fell to his knees.
"Mr. Crouch?" Harry called out. "Are you alright?"
Crouch's eyes rolled in his head, staring at the three of them with a horrible expression.
"Guys, we need to hurry and bring someone!" Ron said, looking at Crouch in horror.
"Dumbledore," gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Harry's robe, pulling him closer, although his gaze was fixed above Harry's head. "I need to see Dumb... Dumbledore..."
"It's okay," said Harry, "if you stand up, Mr. Crouch, we can go upstairs…"
"I've done something foolish..." Crouch breathed. He seemed completely unhinged. His eyes were rolling and bulging, a trickle of saliva running down his chin. "I must tell Dumbledore... I must tell him."
Mr. Crouch's eyes focused on Harry.
"You... who are you?" he asked with a sharpness in his tone. "Where have I seen you before?"
"I am a Hogwarts student," said Harry, looking at Hermione and Ron.
"Mr. Crouch, this is Harry Potter, and I am…" Hermione moved closer to support Crouch.
"Harry Potter," Crouch murmured softly. "You are the boy. Here is Hogwarts. You are Dumbledore's. Go and warn him..."
Crouch drew closer, and Harry tried to loosen Crouch's grip on his robe, but it was too strong.
"Warn Dumbledore... tell him..."
"I will go fetch Dumbledore if you release me," said Harry. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I will get him!"
"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you've done that, I would like to have a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly; we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."
Suddenly, Crouch let go of Harry and Hermione, starting to converse with a tree again.
He seemed to have forgotten them all at once and descended into a strange state of madness.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances, only the heavy breathing in the forest could be heard.
"Yes, my son has just received 12 O.W.L.s, very satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, truly proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memorandum from the Minister of Magic of Andorra, I believe I will have time to draft a response..."
"He's mad!" exclaimed Ron, staring at Crouch, who continued to babble at the tree, seemingly convinced it was Percy.
"Yes!" Harry quickly decided, "Stay with him, I will go fetch Dumbledore!"
Harry began to rise to leave, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who grabbed him tightly around the knees and pulled him back to the ground.
"Do not leave me, Harry Potter!" he whispered, his eyes bulging once more. "I escaped... the guards suddenly relaxed... I seized the chance to escape, I must warn... I must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... the Dark Lord is stronger! Hurry, Harry Potter..."
"The Dark Lord?" Harry was momentarily frozen. "If you release me, I will seek out Dumbledore, Mr. Crouch!"
With the assistance of Ron and Hermione, he did his utmost to free himself from Crouch's grasp.
"Just keep him here," Harry said quickly. "I'll be back with Dumbledore."
"You better hurry!" shouted Ron. "We can't hold him for long."
Ron anxiously watched Crouch, who succumbed once again to a state of madness.
Harry sprinted out of the forest and crossed the dark grounds.
The sky had darkened completely, with no one in sight on the field.
Professor Moody, who had been by the lake, was no longer there. Harry didn't dwell on it and ran towards the castle with all his might.