"Yes, well," he shrugged, "the wards are military grade, something I - borrowed - from some American war wizards when I did a little job for them in the Persian Gulf."
Antonin shuddered when the crucio hit, then went to that part of his mind where the pain was only distant.
"You're right," his voice was only a little shaky, "you really don't put enough feeling behind your cursing. I've had worse." Gathering fire to him, he created a small fireball, and then several others. Tossing them into the air one after another, he began to juggle them.
"It is only pain, and the pain is not me." He was pleased to note that his voice was much stronger as he concentrated on focusing his magic, ignoring the pain. "Still, you can end the spell whenever you'd like."