Beautifully Broken

II

Crucio,"

Harry didn't even twitch as the torture curse rolled over him, he kept his limbs locked in to position and blanked out the pain. He was used to it by now. It was part of his specialist training after all, or that was what they told him it was for. He didn't know anymore. Harry didn't understand why this was necessary, they were not teaching him any specialist magic; they were just torturing him. But it had been the same since forth year. Dumbledore had demanded it. He had instructed the Dursleys to strengthen their abuse, the aged headmaster had always known about that. But Harry endured. He had the thought of Sirius and Remus to keep him going when the… training had stepped a notch. He was unable to tell them because Dumbledore had threatened him and the old man was everywhere. His supposed friends helped out whenever they could, as they sat back and spent his gold. He had always known they were not his friends, but he had never expected this from them. It didn't matter, nothing did, he took it as another thing which was messed up, he had to protect the ones he truly cared about.

"You know why this has to be done, don't you Harry?" Dumbledore said. Evan as he raised his wand to curse him again, the man kept his voice soft and grandfatherly, like he actually cared. "You are weak, and you will let everyone die."

That was lies, Harry thought as the cruciatus ran through him again. He was not weak. He could do things, things with magic that he knew others couldn't. His magic loved him, it was always there, to help him, to work with him, in any way he wanted and so he knew Dumbledore was lying.

"Cruerveo,"

Harry clenched his jaw at that. He hated the blood boiling curse, it was more uncomfortable than the cruciatus in his opinion, but he did not make a sound as it was held on him and he didn't even move as he felt cutting curses hit him from different directions; his friends had decided to join him then.

"You need to grow stronger, you need to stop being a freak."

Harry hated that word. It had been beaten in to him at a young age and only Remus and Sirius had gotten rid of it. But it was different now, he didn't know why he was still enduring it. Sirius was gone, he had died fighting in the ministry. He had thought it was Bellatrix, but there was something wrong with his mind. He could feel someone else's magic there and it confused him.

"Sirius died because of you. You had to be shown how weak you were."

They had killed him.

They had taken him away because they felt the need to prove a false fact. And just like that he knew he was done. He could have taken whatever crap they were throwing at him, he had never known any other way, but they should have stayed away from Sirius. Pain overwhelmed him, not physical, but mental anguish, grief and loss swamped him, anger and hate flushed through him burning away everything else. His mind could not take the strain of his emotions, he had always been accused of feeling too deeply, and with the crushing revelations and realisations his mind snapped.

Harry Potter smiled.