Time lost meaning in the darkness. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours, marked only by the rhythm of pain and the cruel cadence of Bellatrix's laughter.
Harry's body lay limp on the cold floor, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Every nerve was raw, every breath a struggle. His scar continued to pulse with a sickening ache, a constant reminder of the connection he could never escape.
Bellatrix watched him with a curious fascination, her head tilted to one side, eyes gleaming with a predator's hunger. "You're stronger than I expected, Potter," she purred, her voice lilting with a twisted sort of admiration. "But everyone breaks... eventually."
She traced her wand along his cheek, the tip cold against his burning skin. He forced himself not to flinch, locking his gaze on hers, defiance flickering in his green eyes.
She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a wicked smile. "Still so stubborn... so noble." She laughed, a high, musical sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Tell me, does it hurt? Knowing you can't save them?"
Harry's jaw clenched, his heart lurching painfully. He could see their faces-Ron, Hermione, Ginny-all fighting, all risking their lives for him. Were they safe? Were they captured? The thought clawed at his chest, sharp and merciless.
Bellatrix's eyes narrowed, sensing his turmoil.
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "They'll die for you, you know. One by one. And it will be your fault." Her breath was cold against his ear. "You're leading them to their deaths, just like you led Sirius."
Rage ignited in his chest, hot and blinding.
His magic surged, a raw, uncontrolled force that flared through his veins. The ropes binding his wrists shuddered, trembling under the pressure.
Bellatrix jumped back, eyes widening in surprise before they darkened with fury. Her wand snapped up, and Harry barely had time to brace himself.
"Crucio!"
The curse slammed into him, and his world exploded into agony. His back arched, muscles seizing as pain tore through him, brutal and unrelenting. It was worse than before, sharper, more vicious-fueled by her anger, her desire to see him break.
His vision blurred, dark spots dancing before his eyes. His scream echoed through the chamber, raw and guttural, torn from his very soul.
And still, he held on. Even as his body burned and his spirit shattered, he held on to their faces-their laughter, their friendship, their love. He wouldn't let her take that from him.
The curse lifted, and he collapsed, his body shaking uncontrollably, his breaths ragged and uneven. Darkness tugged at the edges of his mind, seductive in its promise of relief.
But he fought it, clinging to consciousness, clinging to hope.
Bellatrix stood over him, her chest heaving, eyes wild with fury. "Why. Won't. You.
Break?" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "Why do you keep fighting?"
Harry looked up at her, his vision hazy, pain twisting his features. His voice was weak, little more than a whisper, but his words were steady, unyielding.
"Because... they're worth it."
For a moment, her face flickered, a flash of something-confusion, anger, fear-before it hardened once more. Her eyes blazed, and she raised her wand again, her voice cold, merciless.
"Then I'll just have to take that hope away, won't I?"
For a moment, her face flickered, a flash of something-confusion, anger, fear—before it hardened once more. Her eyes blazed, and
she raised her wand again, her voice cold, merciless.
"Then I'll just have to take that hope away, won't I?"
The room grew colder, shadows deepening as her magic swirled, dark and malevolent.
Harry's heart pounded, dread curling in his gut. He was running out of strength, running out of time.
But he wouldn't give up. Not while his friends were still fighting. Not while there was still a chance.
He braced himself as she began to chant, her words echoing with dark power.
The room grew colder, shadows deepening as her magic swirled, dark and malevolent.
Harry's heart pounded, dread curling in his gut. He was running out of strength, running out of time.
But he wouldn't give up. Not while his friends were still fighting. Not while there was still a chance.
He braced himself as she began to chant, her words echoing with dark power.
The battle wasn't over. Not yet.