Antonio took two steps forward, his gaze calmly sweeping across the council chamber before settling on the Minister and the Chief Warlock.
"I must begin by applauding Lord Crouch," he said, his voice steady and clear. "He presented the facts of the incident with remarkable finesse and probably in an unprecedented manor. So much so that he even managed to divine that I would invoke self defence as my counterargument."
A faint chuckle rippled through the chamber as Barty Crouch frowned and snorted, but Antonio remained composed.
"And, to be perfectly honest, he is not wrong. I did act in self defence."
"But before we delve into that, allow me to clarify a few critical points," Antonio continued, "facts which, Lord Crouch, quite conveniently, either twisted or left them out entirely."
"The memory presented to this esteemed council was, as I acknowledged, both authentic and accurate. But it was not complete. It did not show the full extent of the relevant events that led to the confrontation."
"That memory began at the moment the confrontation visibly started in the street. But it should have started before that. It should have started with the so called wizards launching at least half a dozen spells at the roof of my inn."
"Lord Crouch must have overlooked such a crucial detail," Antonio added, his tone laced with sarcasm. "But if the Wizengamot wills it, I will provide my own memory. A complete memory. One which I have already submitted to the DMLE and, apparently, the Head of the DMLE did not consider it important enough to present to this council."
An expression of awkwardness appeared on Barty's face as a wave of murmurs rippled through the chamber. Everyone knew Antonio's inn had been attacked. Newspapers had reported the destruction in detail, accompanied by photos. But Barty Crouch's carefully curated narrative had tried to downplay it, manipulating perception through omission of facts in his presentation. He was trying to rely on recency bias to shift focus away from the initial aggression.
"And there is something else Lord Crouch conveniently ignored," Antonio continued once silence returned. "Those six wizards. No, not just wizards. They were Death Eaters."
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
"How convenient it must be to forget that they were not just any spell casters but criminals, part of a group who have unleashed a reign of terror upon Wizarding Britain. Who are on a spree of killing, kidnappings and sexual crimes."
"You have no proof of that!" Barty snapped. "They may have simply been wearing those robes to frighten you, to add weight to their presence. Nothing more."
Antonio chuckled, the sound cold and derisive.
"Wearing Death Eater robes just to scare me?" he repeated. "Maybe they even killed a dozen innocents just to commit to the performance. To really sell the act. To add more weight to their presence… hmm?"
Barty glared at him with seething hatred, but Antonio ignored it.
"Minister," Antonio addressed Harold directly. "With all due respect, the suggestion that Amcus Marius and his companions were simply impersonating Death Eaters is not only absurd, it is dangerous. No one wears those robes unless they believe in what they represent. You do not dress up as a monster unless you are one. And those 6 people were very much the monsters and the low lives they were dressed as."
At that, a middle-aged lord leapt to his feet, his face red with fury.
"How dare you?" the man shouted, pointing a trembling finger. "How dare you tarnish my son's name?"
Antonio met the man's eyes without flinching.
"Am I, Lord Marius?" He asked back. "Then perhaps you can explain what your son was doing dressed in the garb of a Death Eater casting spells on my inn. What, exactly, was he trying to accomplish? Was he putting on a show? An act? Who are you trying to fool?"
Alicus Marius stood frozen and was trembling with rage but remained silent.
"Sit down, Lord Marius," Dumbledore's voice cut through the tension. Alicus hesitated, then obeyed.
Antonio turned back to the council, sweeping his gaze across the room.
"Esteemed lords and ladies," he said, his voice resolute, "this was not some misunderstanding. It was an attack, just like many others we have seen in recent months. A coordinated assault. And had I been an ordinary man, I would have died. Like so many others have. It would not have caused any hue and cry. The DMLE would have closed my case within days."
He paused and continued.
"But I did not. I fought back. And that, I suspect, is the real issue here. That I shattered the illusion, that these Death Eaters are somehow invincible. I exposed the truth. I showcased the world that they too feel fear. That they too bleed. That they too beg like the dogs they are. That they run. And they die."
"Lord Olario," Barty interjected sharply, "if what you say is true, then why were you targeted?"
Although, Barty did not mention directly, it was obvious what he was trying to imply. That since Antonio was a pure blood why did they target him?
"And again," Barty asked, "No matter how you spin your words, you clearly had the power to restrain them. To capture them alive instead of killing them?"
"Why was I attacked?" Antonio's voice grew hard, intense. "Ask the Death Eaters, Lord Crouch. Maybe you should have been asking this very question from the start."
He stepped forward, eyes burning with fury.
"Did you even try to capture the ones who fled? Did you care that four Death Eaters escaped from the scene of a violent crime? One of them had his arm severed. He would be hard pressed to hide himself. And yet... nothing. No raids. No search. No arrests."
He let that accusation hang in the air.
"Why, Lord Crouch? Why did you not look for them?" Antonio almost snapped. "Let alone look for them, did this thought even cross your mind that you should also look for the alive death eaters who without any reason launched an assault on the house of an innocent man?"
Barty remained quiet. He had no answers.
"And as for capturing them alive?" Antonio continued, his voice rising. "Yes, I had the power to do so."
"But tell me, Lord Crouch, six wizards, dressed in the robes of a group so vile, so filthy, so disgusting, launched an assault on my inn. If I had not been capable or alert, the roof collapsing alone would have been enough to kill me."
"I stepped outside to find those scum standing there, robed in darkness, demanding that I kneel as if they were divine judges, come to deliver righteous punishment."
"And you say that was the moment I should have worried about taking prisoners?" he roared, his voice echoing across the hall. "Remaining alive was and will always be my first priority."
"The moment they attacked me with the intent to kill," he declared, "was the moment they forfeited their lives."
A heavy silence descended in the Wizengamot as Antonio concluded his intense outburst.
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