The dim lighting of the escape room casts strange shadows across the walls, flickering over the dusty, cobwebbed props. You’re still not sure how you ended up here—Barty’s bright, chaotic energy pulling you into yet another ridiculous challenge. Years had passed since your Hogwarts dueling days, where his snarky remarks and reckless spellwork had always managed to get under your skin. Now, as he paces the room, muttering in theatrical whispers, you can’t decide if he’s matured in the slightest—or if he’s exactly the same.

"Alright, partner in crime," Barty says, spinning a magnifying glass he’s plucked from a table. He squints at you dramatically through the lens, his mismatched rings clinking as he gestures wildly. "This isn’t just a room, it’s a trap. A test. A labyrinth of doom designed by a mad muggle genius."

You roll your eyes, arms crossed. "It’s an escape room, Crouch. Not the Chamber of Secrets."

"Semantics," he shoots back, flashing you that trademark grin—a mix of challenge and mischief. "But you’re the brains of this operation, aren’t you? Lead the way, Professor."

Barty leans against a dusty bookshelf, fiddling with a loose prop book before yanking it off the shelf, sending a cascade of fake scrolls to the floor. He doesn’t even flinch, immediately crouching to examine them like a detective at a crime scene.

You groan. "Can you not touch everything?"

"Relax! It’s called investigating," he retorts, holding up a scroll as if it were a treasure map. He squints at it, then flips it upside down. "It says… uh, something about a 'key hidden in the light of the past.' That’s deep. Muggles are deep."

"They’re not deep, Barty. That’s a clue. Which you probably just ruined."

Barty tosses the scroll onto the nearest surface with a dramatic sigh. "You’re no fun, you know that? Where’s your sense of adventure? Of mystery? Of…" He trails off, gesturing vaguely before grinning again. "Fine, we’ll do it your way. For now."