Dimeritium Nail

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"You are finished! Every one of you, my master, will come back to save me! You can't even comprehend his abilities!" Barty Crouch Jr. roared, spittle flying from his mouth. Veritaserum's truth-inducing effects had worn off, but his loyalty to Voldemort remained unwavering.

Ethan frowned, his gaze hardening. Barty Crouch Jr. wasn't just a threat; he was a symbol. Voldemort's most capable follower, shrewd, brave, and utterly devoted. Unlike spineless cowards like Lucius Malfoy or sniveling Peter Pettigrew, Barty Crouch Jr. had been instrumental in Voldemort's return. He wouldn't be easily abandoned. Publicly executing him would be a blow to Voldemort's prestige, a victory Ethan craved.

He'd argued for a swift, silent execution with Fudge, but the Minister was blinded by personal vendettas. Fudge saw Barty Crouch Jr.'s trial as a chance to finally ruin his nemesis, Barty Crouch Sr., ensuring he could never recover. A public spectacle, a humiliation – Fudge was deaf to Ethan's pleas about the potential fallout. Ethan, forced to operate within the confines of Fudge's authority, couldn't openly defy him. But that didn't mean there weren't… options.

"Silencio!" Ethan whispered, a silencing charm snapping Barty Crouch Jr.'s voice into a strangled gasp. The younger Crouch twisted in his restraints, confusion clouding his panicked eyes. Ethan moved slowly behind him, reaching out to gently stroke his neck. The hairs stood on end, a primal fear prickling Barty Crouch Jr.'s skin. He whimpered, instinct screaming at him that something terrible was about to happen.

From a hidden pocket, Ethan retrieved a seemingly innocuous object—a bluish nail polished to a gleaming sheen. But closer inspection revealed intricate runes etched into its surface, pulsing with a faint, otherworldly light. The moment Ethan held it, an aura of raw power crackled in the air, a presence more terrifying than the Killing Curse itself. Barty Crouch Jr. watched in growing horror, a primal fear far deeper than the threat of death gripping him.

Ethan's face was a mask of grim determination. There was no pleasure in this, only cold necessity. He placed the tip of the nail on Barty Crouch Jr.'s spine. The metal sizzled, turning an ugly black as if branded by a searing iron. A horrific stench of burning flesh filled the room.

Barty Crouch Jr. screamed, a sound ripped from the depths of pure, unadulterated terror. He convulsed against his restraints, muscles straining in a futile attempt to escape the agonizing touch. This wasn't just pain but a violation, a severing of his connection to magic.

With a practiced flick of his wrist, Ethan hammered the nail into Barty Crouch Jr.'s vertebra. The man's body contorted in a horrifying spasm, every nerve cell screaming in agony. His skin flushed a deep crimson, and his eyes bulged, bloodshot and wild with terror. He slammed his head repeatedly against the table, a desperate bid for oblivion that found no answer.

The convulsions subsided gradually, replaced by a horrifying stillness. Barty Crouch Jr. slumped like a puppet with its strings cut, a sickly yellow liquid pooling beneath him. The Dimeritium nail's magic-blocking properties were absolute, rendering any healing spell or potion useless. It was permanent, irreversible paralysis.

A plume of white smoke rose from the wound, acrid and unpleasant. After a moment, Ethan carefully removed the nail, leaving behind a gaping black hole where his magic had once flowed freely. There was no blood, just a chilling emptiness.

He disposed of the nail with practiced efficiency, another secret he would carry with the memory of this terrible night. The air crackled with a heavy silence, broken only by the ragged gasps of Barty Crouch Jr., who would forever remain a broken shell, a chilling testament to the lengths Ethan would go to in his fight against the darkness.

Leaving the defeated Barty Crouch Jr. in the interrogation room, Ethan opened the door and walked out. The Aurors in charge of cleaning up recoiled, their faces etched with disgust as they saw Crouch Jr. One Auror, a grizzled veteran with a scarred cheek, muttered, "Dark magic gone too far," his voice barely whispered. Ethan ignored him, his expression unreadable.

He found Fudge in his office, poring over Barty Crouch Sr.'s interrogation record with a gleeful smile. Each time he read it, Fudge's mood improved by a degree. In his eyes, this was the ultimate vindication - the complete and utter downfall of Barty Crouch.

"Ah! Ethan! You're here!" Fudge greeted him with a wide smile, forgetting his earlier anxieties about his position.

"Ethan, is Barty Crouch Jr.'s interrogation over? What's the result?" he asked eagerly, his anticipation barely contained.

"I got some very… interesting news," Ethan replied, his voice low and measured.

"Interesting? Do tell!" Fudge leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with the promise of further humiliation for Crouch.

"It seems Sirius Black's case was a wrongful conviction," Ethan dropped the bombshell.

"The real traitor, the one who betrayed James and Lily Potter, was none other than Peter Pettigrew."

Fudge's jaw dropped. This revelation was far more than he'd bargained for. But a shrewd glint quickly replaced the surprise in his eyes. As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time, Barty Crouch had overseen Black's trial. This news could potentially smear Crouch's reputation beyond repair.

"Brilliant!" Fudge exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"This could turn things around entirely! Ethan, we need to find Sirius Black and clear his name at once. Imagine the positive press – the Minister of Magic righting a thirteen-year-old injustice! It'll be a masterstroke!"

Ethan met Fudge's enthusiastic gaze, a flicker of something unidentifiable—perhaps defiance or perhaps amusement—dancing briefly in his eyes.

"I'll get it done, Minister," he said, his voice steady.

This unexpected turn of events was precisely what he'd been hoping for. Now, with Fudge's unwitting cooperation, he could finally clear Sirius Black's name and set his plans in motion.