Time had lost all meaning.

Harry wasn't sure how long he had been here hours, days, weeks? It all bled together in a haze of pain and exhaustion, a constant battle between his mind and his body.

He hurt.

Everywhere.

His muscles ached, his skin burned, and his nerves were still raw from the endless Cruciatus curses Bellatrix had so gleefully inflicted. The pain clung to him, lingering long after the spells ended, like an echo buried deep in his bones.

His wrists were bruised and bloodied, rubbed raw by the ropes that bound them. The weight of his own body dragged at his arms, sending sharp jolts of pain up through his shoulders.

His throat was dry. His lips were cracked. He was cold. So damn cold.

But he was alive.

For now.

The door creaked open.

Harry tensed.

He couldn't see much his vision had been blurry for hours, his left eye nearly swollen shut but he knew that sound. Knew what it meant.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Deliberate.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Still breathing, are we?" she drawled, closing the door behind her. "How... stubborn."

Harry didn't reply. His tongue felt too heavy, his mouth too dry to form words.

Bellatrix sighed. "No greeting? That's rather rude, Potter."

She crouched beside him, one long finger tracing the edge of his bruised jaw. Harry flinched away, and her grin widened.

"Oh, don't be like that," she purred. "We're just getting started."

She straightened, tapping her wand against her palm.

"I must admit, you're quite the disappointment."

Harry forced himself to meet her gaze.

Bellatrix tilted her head, studying him. "I expected more. Screaming, begging, bargaining. But you..." She sighed dramatically. "You just won't break."

Harry swallowed. His throat ached.

"Maybe..." Bellatrix twirled her wand lazily. "I've been going about this all wrong. You're stubborn, Potter. But everyone has their limits."

Her voice turned silky smooth.

"Shall we find yours?"

"Crucio."

Harry barely had time to brace before the curse slammed into him.

Pain erupted white-hot, searing, unbearable. His back arched violently, his body convulsing as fire tore through his veins. It was like his bones were being ripped apart, like his very blood was boiling beneath his skin.

He didn't know if he was screaming his mind had shattered too fast to register it.

Then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

Harry collapsed gasping, trembling, wrecked. The pain still lingered, burning in his nerves, his muscles twitching in the aftermath.

Bellatrix crouched again, brushing sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

"Still with me?" she whispered.

Harry's breath stuttered.

Bellatrix leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she murmured. "Just tell me what I want, and the pain stops. No more curses. No more blood. No more suffering."

Harry forced his fingers into fists.

"Go to hell," he rasped.

Bellatrix laughed.

"Oh, but Potter," she breathed, her breath warm against his skin. "We're already there."

The knife returned.

This time, she didn't hesitate.

The blade pressed against his collarbone, biting into his skin slowly, deliberately.

Harry's muscles tensed as the sharp sting deepened, as warmth trickled down his chest.

Bellatrix hummed in delight. "You're bleeding so prettily."

Harry clenched his jaw, his breath shallow as the blade traced down his sternum a slow, careful cut, dragging fire in its wake.

"You can stop this," she reminded him. "Tell me where the Order meets."

Harry glared at her through the haze of pain.

"Not... a chance."

Bellatrix sighed.

"So disappointing."

The knife bit deeper.

Harry hissed, body jerking involuntarily. His vision blurred with the sharp rush of pain, his fingers twitching where they rested against the cold stone floor.

Bellatrix leaned back, tilting her head. "Still no? My, my. You really do enjoy suffering, don't you?"

She lifted the blade, admiring his blood staining the silver.

Then she carved another line.

Harry bit back a cry.

His heartbeat pounded in his skull, a deafening roar, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

Bellatrix smirked.

"Maybe pain isn't enough," she mused. "Maybe you need a little more... persuasion."

Her wand flicked a new spell.

The ropes binding his wrists and ankles vanished.

Harry barely had a second to process it before Bellatrix's foot slammed into his ribs.

Crack.

Pain exploded through his torso.

Harry choked on a gasp, his vision going white for a moment. His body crumpled, every nerve screaming.

Bellatrix clicked her tongue. "Oops."

Another kick.

Then another.

And another.

Harry curled in on himself, each impact sending fresh waves of agony through his already broken body.

Bellatrix finally stepped back, breathing a little heavier.

She crouched beside him, running a finger over the fresh blood dripping from the cut along his chest.

Her eyes were bright, gleaming with twisted pleasure.

"You're breaking," she whispered.

Harry swallowed, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

And then

He did something reckless.

He spat blood at her.

Bellatrix froze.

For one breathless second, the entire room went still.

Then, she laughed.

Not a soft laugh. Not a quiet giggle.

A wild, unhinged, delighted laugh.

"You really are your mother's son," she purred, wiping the blood from her cheek with the back of her hand. "Fierce, defiant, impossible."

Her eyes darkened.

"I'm going to enjoy watching that fade."

Her wand rose.

"Crucio."

The world shattered again.

Pain. Agony. Burning. White-hot fire.

Harry's body arched, muscles seizing, screams tearing from his throat. It didn't stop. It didn't stop. It didn't stop.

And then

Darkness.

When Harry woke, he was alone.

His body ached, his skin burned, his limbs felt like lead.

But he was still here.

Still breathing.

Still holding on.

Bellatrix had pushed him to the edge.

But she hadn't broken him.

Not yet.