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Man, took forever to finally upload the last chapter, due to an error popping up everytime I tried for like the last week! So, I decided to post two chapters in one day. Wow.

My Heart Burns

Chapter III: Weak and Powerless

SsSsS

To survive is to suffer. To live is to find some meaning in the suffering.

SsSsS

Possession: Dark Magic. The effect of one person's spirit (a Dark Wizard's) inhabiting or taking over the body of another.

By the end of June, Harry had found another answer to this never-ending puzzle. Quirinus Quirrell had indeed been possessed by the spirit of a dark wizard. The darkest, Lord Voldemort. For days Harry had lain in his hospital bed, wondering what the hell had happened, and for all of his wise endearments, Headmaster Dumbledore would tell Harry nothing of any real importance. Somehow, on his last day in the infirmary, Harry had finally managed to guilt a sliver of truth from the old professor.

It had taken Harry too long to find out what he wanted to know, and still he did not yet know the full story. He knew that Quirrell had been possessed by the dark lord's undead spirit, and that Dumbledore personally believed Lord Voldemort was not dead. Why and how was the Defense professor possessed? Harry still did not know. After Quirrell had started torturing Harry, the man had been forced to stop by the parasitic dark lord. Why would the darkest, most evil wizard in modern history hurt a loyal follower for torturing a child? The answer seemed obvious to Harry. As the boy-who-lived, he was a special case, not just some nobody whom Voldemort would never consider. It would seem that Voldemort wanted his destroyer all to himself.

It was a personal matter, all about revenge, and that did not surprise Harry in the least. In fact, it made perfect sense.

Just as the curse used on him was perfect. At first, the headmaster would tell Harry nothing, save for one annoying clue. This curse was unforgivable, and that was all. It would cause pain, but Harry already knew that all too well. After leaving the hospital, Harry had gone to Professor Snape, without much more luck. Though, he was able to discern that "unforgivable" was actually the title of the curse, and not just a word to describe it. With the potions master's accidental slip of information, Harry was forbidden to ask any other teacher about the curse.

So, Harry waited. Examinations were approaching with the end of the school term anyway, and Harry fully intended to have the best marks. He poured himself back into a full-time study regimen, which shocked many of his professors. They all knew what he had just gone through not three weeks ago, at the hands of a mad man. Harry couldn't understand their surprise. It was only a little pain, not enough to stop him from reading a book. Harry had been treated for his injury, and released from Madam Promphrey's care, and now he had his mission back. Harry would take the tests, and get the best scores. Simple as that.

Yes, the curse was apparently unforgivable. Yes, the curse was apparently used solely for torture. None of that mattered to Harry, he knew the truth. The truth of the little voice at the back of his mind whispered to him. He knew that, even though he may look the same to everyone who saw him, he was a different person now. Before the events that saw Professor Quirrell torture a student and flee the castle, Harry was still so young, still too weak. Now though, he had grown stronger. He could think differently now. He could withstand suffering better now. Harry could now wait until the end of term to ask Professor Flitwick for a pass to the Restricted Section, which, of course, he got.

It took hours of sifting through old tomes, and regrettably re-shelving some of the most interesting pieces, before Harry found it. The Cruciatus Curse. One of three separate spells, all known as the Unforgivable Curses. Fear turned to rage as Harry read on. Victims are subjected to almost intolerable pain. Some victims of prolonged use have been driven insane.

Insane.

Harry could have lost his mind, and there would have been no way to fight back. Something that belonged purely to him, something that only he could have, might have been broken that day. By a stuttering, lying, ignorant nobody.

Harry could not allow this to happen again. He could not afford to stay so delicate, so powerless. Harry vowed, under no circumstance, would the Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, nor the Killing Curse, ever again touch him.

No matter what it took. No matter the cost. Harry would never again be weak. Harry would never again be a freak. The flames of anger, of wrath, burned in him now, and for the first time in his life, Harry felt no regret.

sSsSs

"As luck would have it…"

There is no such thing as luck. Everything happens for a reason.

All of Harry's 'friends' called it bad luck when, on the last night before summer holiday, Harry got cursed. Again. The fight between two fifth year students started out with an insult, another insult, then escalated to a full out duel. The crowd of first years watched with the rest of their Slytherin house as the common was lit with spells. Soon enough, Snape would enter, yell at everyone in attendance of the row, and everything would be quiet once more. Harry would rather not stick around to watch this pathetic spectacle any longer, and tried to maneuver his way through the sea of Slytherins and to the dorm.

He failed though, as a ricocheted jinx found him out of all the students.

There is no such thing as luck. Everything happens for a reason. Though it did seem to be bad luck when Snape came in, fixed the mess, and gave Harry a summer detention for having been "involved enough."

Had this happened before his change of heart, Harry would have been angry. He would have planned revenge on both boys who'd been fighting, and possibly even sneered at his head of house. That was before, though, and Harry was not mad, or vengeful at all. Harry couldn't be happier he had been hit. The jinx was lifted as soon as Snape had entered the common room, although some pain still lingered. The spell had hurt, but it was nothing compared to Harry's past experiences. It had been a tingle, just enough to let his mind know that his body had been injured in some way. It was a reminder of his past, and of his future.

Pain is just weakness leaving the body.