Ivan gripped his wand tightly, and if he was discovered, he would do it immediately!

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

The room was quiet, with the sound of a falling pin and the faint sound of the door closing.

In the distance, a roaring fireplace transmits heat to dispel the bitter cold of December.

Ivan, who was in a state of invisibility, turned his head slightly to look at Crouch who walked in with the door closed, compared to the meeting a few days ago, his state was even worse, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, his expression was low, and he seemed to have not been able to sleep well for several days.

Seeing this, Ivan turned his gaze and scanned Crouch's body for a moment, trying to find the kettle containing the polyjuice potion, but he found nothing.

After a moment's hesitation, Barty Crouch was already striding towards this side, apparently intending to sit down and rest.

Ivan held his breath and cautiously took a few steps back, so as not to collide directly with Crouch, secretly glad that this room was carpeted, otherwise Crouch would have been able to hear his footsteps clearly so close.

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

Although they had sorted out the things that had been moved before, they were too urgent to restore them 100%.

In addition, conspicuous depressions in the blankets on the floor may also reveal their location.

However, nothing Ivan was worried about happened, and Crouch seemed a little absent-minded, and he didn't have the heart to observe these details at all, and the whole person leaned back in his chair, and the expression that had been tense slowly relaxed.

The serious, old-fashioned face was no longer composure, full of pain, chagrin, and decadence.

For twenty minutes, Crouch remained motionless, slumped in his chair, his eyes fixed on 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 movements, and finally faintly thought of a possibility, but he was not sure.

At this moment, a blue flame suddenly erupted from the fireplace, and Ivan hurriedly turned his head to see that a gray-white owl was flying out of the flame.

Crouch, who also saw this scene, was excited, and he abruptly stood up from his position, took the letter tied at the owl's feet, and looked at it with a shudder.

After reading the contents of the letter, Crouch's face changed for a while, and his excited expression gradually disappeared, and he was a little depressed and scary, as if a volcano was about to erupt!

After a long silence, Crouch gripped the knuckles of the letter harder and harder, and finally the expression on his face became hideous, and he kicked down the mahogany table in front of him, and roared angrily.

"Rubbish!"

With a muffled sound, the documents and newspapers on the table were spilled on the ground, and the inkwell that was originally placed in the corner of the table rolled all the way to the ground.

What a wasted effort! Ivan rolled his eyes, he had known that this would be the case, and they had not bothered to tidy it up before.

But now was not the time to think about it, and Ivan was even more curious about what was written in that letter that could make Crouch so angry.

He craned his neck to read the contents of the letter, but Crouch was so far away that he couldn't see anything unless he was willing to venture into Crouch's face.

After some venting, Barty Crouch slowly calmed down, waved his wand to restore the overturned table and scattered papers, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and walked towards the fireplace.

Ivan saw that Barty Crouch was preparing to leave here, frowned, and hesitated to do it now.

That letter could be very important evidence, and if Crouch had been allowed to leave, there would have been no such good opportunity next time.

While Ivan was still hesitating, a crimson beam of light flew through the air, and Moody's voice rang out in the office.

"Expelliarmus~ (Except for your weapons)!"

Crouch didn't expect to be ambushed in his office, and was instantly hit by a spell, and his body flew up as if he had been hit by a bull, and fell heavily on the wall behind him, and the wand in his hand also came out of his hand, and flew to the side in a whirl.

A hand reached out out of thin air and took the wand.

At the same time, the illusion spell that had been placed on Moody had lost its effect, and his form soon appeared in the office.

Barty Crouch has experienced the wizarding war in the end, even if he is old, he is not slow to react, he took a heavy blow to the front, and his body rolled several times and quickly stood up.

The fireplace in front of him was already getting closer, and as long as he threw the Floo powder in his hand, he would be able to escape from here...

A few thoughts flashed through Barty Crouch's mind, but unfortunately they were interrupted before they could be implemented—because a sharp object was against his neck.

Then, a slightly immature voice rang in his ears.

"Stay away from the fireplace, Mr. Crouch, and get rid of the Floo powder, and better not let me see you doing anything in private......"

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

"Alasto!" Barty Crouch watched Moody say word by word, a look of disbelief on his face.

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

"Looks like you're finally crazy, Alasto! They broke into my office without their consent, investigated my personal belongings, and attacked me..."

Barty Crouch snapped, but before he could finish, a beam of light struck him, flew past his head, slammed into the window, and shattered the thick glass.

"Shut up, listen to him, do it, and throw away the Floo powder right away! Don't let us say it a second time! You should know how I'm going to deal with a prisoner! Moody roared loudly, the tip of his wand faintly glowing red red, ready to fire at any moment.

Barty Crouch stared at Moody, as if to gauge whether the other party had the courage to do it.

But talking about guts with a nervous madman was self-defeating, and Barty Crouch couldn't gauge whether Moody was crazy enough, so he relented, letting go of his clenched left hand, and a cloud of powder slowly slipped from his palm.