Into the courtroom my trial began…

The prisoner gnashed his teeth and chewed his tongue for a few minutes, resisting to talk before finally beginning his testimony:

“I should have known that someone would put so much Veritaserum into my whiskey. This can’t be less than a half a bottle—” His head jerked like a stallion champing at his bit.

“The Colombian Rum-runner. That is a long story. A very long one. No, I will n—it is not an item. It is no item. Not a potion either, but it should be added to every potion. That’s not the thing to concern yourself with; it’s a process. The thing you want is cocaine.” The prisoner hissed just after, still trying to gain control of his mouth.

“Shut up, Crouch. I shall fight you and this too I shall fight—ngh, a man from South America gave me the cocaine. We met in Knockturn Alley when one of my envoys had told me this man was looking for me. He had something of great value to offer.  Do not bother looking for him because the moment I found out what he had, we dispose of his body in the nearest lake. He—he—he—he—it was twenty-four kilograms of the stuff. I knew very little about him, and I intended to keep it that way. He was a mudblood, and a South American at that. No great loss to this great nation or the world.” The prisoner gasped, growling because more words were coming. “I only wish that hadn’t killed him now because I cannot find any of that beautiful white powder now. I used all of it in two months. My followers were too weak for the stuff—only Bellatrix was strong enough.”

“Lily Evans was my little toy, and she was charming one at that. My followers captured her shortly after she left the safety of Hogwarts, another testimony to their stupidity. They had mistaken her for someone else I was looking for, but Severus all but cried like a feeble child for no one for hurt her. I considered killing her, but she was a pretty creature.” His resistance seemed to fade a little when he spoke of her. “She was such a young thing; the bloom of her youth had just opened completely.” The prisoner indulged himself in a sinister and licentious smile, one that showed how revolting he was in his middle age. Anyone who had known Lily Evans would be too familiar with how much they contrasted.

“She was too sweet and pure for anyone else, and certainly not Severus. If I gave her to him, he would be more interested in leaving. She did not love him—” He laughed darkly. “But what is love? It does not matter. I gave her my own concoction of Love Potion. Amortentia would have been far too dangerous; she required something very delicate to complement her own delicacy. I suppose that one owns toys for a long time, they gain sentimental value of some sort. She lived as my domestic pet, and I think that in brewing the potion some of it would spill on my hands and reach my lips. That can be the only explanation for how I was too good to her.”

When some members of the Wizengamot visibly stiffened, he put away all resistance against the truth serum. Now did he not simply need to tell all; he wanted tot tell all. “Virgins are, by far, the most desirable companions. I still remember the first night I lay with her. She called me Thomas and I hated it immensely, but for some reason I allowed it; I now forget why.” He folded his hands underneath his chin, his slimy smirk with a hint of reminiscence. “She was so obedient; I could see the apprehension in her green eyes because she trusted me yet she was like a little fawn separated from its mother. Often she loved me, but she still saw me as a tiger. She bled a little that night, but no more than expected. I gave Severus the sheets so he would know that Lily was now mine. I hadn’t met a woman so pure in years; she was a perfect wife, like a Virgin Mary.”

Lost in his thoughts, he paused before his smile became a scowl. “Something went wrong. Someone didn’t watch her the way they should have. I had my followers watch over her when I had important things to do; I am not surprised that I acquired so idiots as servants. Yaxley is one of the worst, as are all of the Malfoys and the Blacks; I meet so many stupid people that they hardly stand out anymore, but those are the ones who should be executed simply because they contributed nothing to the wizarding world. Somehow, Lily could resist the effects. I must admit that I kept her for myself because she was fairly intelligent. I didn’t expect her to be such a shrew.” He growled audibly at the thought of her, staring off as if she were still standing there.

“For how long she betrayed me, only she would know. But she gave herself to other men when she should have been mine.” Blood rushed to his angry features, turning his face red. “I gave her everything. I was the only reason why she was still alive. Whatever she wanted, I gave it to her just as one would with their best heifer or their prized horse. When she was pregnant, I protected her and gave her soft things just like she wanted. I did far, far more for her than I ever should have!” Again, he hissed and spat, probably saying something in Parseltongue.

“That night. It was a year after her—mine—that little bastard. Whosever seed she carried in her womb. The little brat was a year old.” It had been only a few months ago, but it felt like eons for the prisoner. “Severus had told me about the stag who kept visiting our house, saying it was some second-rate wizard named James Potter who had bad eyes and a death wish. I didn’t believe him because Severus is often too eager to tell me things. He always intends to keep me well-informed about Lily, but he would all too often say things that waste my time. I had met with the South American only a little while ago. Were you ever a cuckold, Crouch? I think you were because you look like one. That was what she did. Strip me of my manhood after everything I gave her and her little whelp? I could have destroyed them both, but I chose not to. I even regarded the child as mine, something for me to protect for my sake. That is the thanks she gives me!” A little bit of foam formed at the edges of his mouth.

“James Potter was in my bed with her, and he was knee-deep inside her when I should have been! At least my manhood is comparable to my own wand, but not him. What did he have to show? Nothing. Nothing at all.” The prisoner began, snorting and spitting like an enraged bull. “I drove his wand clear through him, and I drank the blood of my enemy as it spilled upon my face. And I killed Lily Evans for her hubris, and I’ve never regretted it!” In his anger, he leapt from his chair with his teeth bared, body twitching and shaking. He tried to gesture but all efforts were in vain because of his manacles. “My only regret is that her death was too quick! I should’ve spent hours on her!”

It explained to others why after leaving Hogwarts, she seemed to fall off the face of the earth.  No one knew what had happened and many thought her dead; this fate for four years was even worse that they had imagined. Two handlers rushed to the prisoner, pushing him back into his seat. Something about the action allowed him to gain some composure so he could keep answering questions. “And the child? Severus should have disposed of it. I tried to do it myself, but there is something inhuman about the thing. I tried to cast the Cruciatus curse after killing Lily, and somehow it cast the curse against me first I think.” He narrowed his eyes, leering at each member of the Wizengamot. “And when I leave here, I will find that child and kill him myself just as I had meant to. That little bastard doesn’t deserve the air it breaths. I want the line of Lily Evans rubbed out forever for what she did to me.”

The members of the Wizengamot stared at whatever this man had become, even more horrified than before when he first came to the Ministry’s headquarters. Not even Warlock Crouch could speak up. “Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Voldemort,” said Minister Bagnold at last in an effort to break the silence.

The prisoner wandered back to his seat next to his advocate, still twitching a little but seeming tired for such an intense outburst. He felt more of his body decaying; he knew what he wanted to do, but now the prisoner was truly uncertain about whether or not he could do it.