Barty Crouch staggered back half a step, his lower back striking the cold railing of the stands, yet he still held his chin high.
To be honest, he was terrified right now, but the honor of a pure-blood family would not allow him to show weakness.
He swept his gaze over the wizards from the other pure-blood families around him, meeting their eyes and nodding to each of them in confirmation.
Go for it!
It's fine!
Harry Potter was not a Dark Wizard. He was nowhere near as ruthless as Voldemort. Even if they provoked Harry Potter, their lives would not be in danger.
So, since the cost of testing the waters was negligible, why not try?
Barty Crouch took a deep breath. His hair was soaked with cold sweat and plastered to his pale forehead, while the deliberate slowness with which his right hand searched beneath his robes for his wand was meant to be noticed.
The gesture was meant to show that they were resisting, but they certainly did not have the courage to fight Harry, much less Dumbledore.
This was not negotiation. It was suicide!
Barty Crouch said in a trembling voice:
"Potter, do you think you can intimidate the Ministry of Magic with such... such underhanded tricks? Intimidate the great and noble pure-blood families?
The Wizengamot's judgment seat will always be open to you. The charge of murdering Ministry of Magic officials is enough to keep you in Azkaban until the end of time!"
His voice sounded like rusted gears grinding with difficulty, and the ends of his words trembled uncontrollably. For some reason, he felt an enormous pressure in the air, and the immense magic power was almost visible to the naked eye.
Yet for the interests of the pure-blood families, he still gritted his