He was jolted free from his mind by two things: first, the feeling of his bad leg wrenching awkwardly as the fake Moody tried to drag him up steps, and second, a furious scream sounding from behind them, followed by several deafening bangs. He was turned against his will - Crouch’s arm was like a vice around his chest, dragging him unwillingly along as he spun and stopped on the stairs, holding Harry close to his chest like a prize (or a shield). Harry could only loosely hold on to the arm restraining him.