In the backyard of a quaint little house nestled in the middle of a quaint little neighborhood just outside of London, Sirius sat on a set of steps that led up to the house's back door. It was a dreary day, wind whipping through the leafless branches of trees surrounding the house. Snow would be coming soon, he thought. He stared out into the wooded area beyond the neatly kept yard absentmindedly, not taking in anything specific, too lost in thought.
It had been six days since Natalie was taken. Six days since the Order was forced to abandon the house they had been living in and using as their headquarters. The Death Eaters knew where it was now and that meant it was no longer safe to live there or even to use it as a quick meeting place. Dumbledore had found another house, not terribly far from the old space, and made quick work of moving everyone's belongings from one house to the other. That's where Sirius was now, sitting still as a statue, trying to get his mind to focus.
He was trying to think of another plan, a different idea no one had thought about yet. After the Marauders told Dumbledore about Natalie's kidnapping they set to work immediately trying to track her down. They went to every place they could think of that they knew Death Eaters frequented, they requested the Ministry speak to Death Eaters they had in their custody to see if they knew anything, they asked the other members of the Order to keep their ears and eyes wide open for any trace of her. Nothing had worked, there were no leads and they were no closer to finding her than they were a week prior when the Death Eaters appeared in the street and ripped her away.
Sirius found it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. His thoughts kept slipping away to Natalie. Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she even still alive? He shook his head, physically forcing the last thought from the front of his mind. It had crept into his brain quite a few times over the last few days, whether she might still be breathing or not. Death Eaters were notoriously unforgiving and hostile, Sirius wasn't sure what they wanted from her but if for some reason they couldn't get it, decided they didn't need her or that she was too much trouble he was certain they would dispose of her.
He had to keep some spark of hope within him because if he didn't, overwhelming guilt and grief would rear its ugly head and bury itself so deep into Sirius' chest that he wouldn't be able to breathe, wouldn't be able to move or to think straight. It was a pain he had never experienced before, not even when Natalie had left him at the end of their schooling and hadn't reappeared for months. That time, at least, he knew she had gone off on her own by choice. Of course he missed her and was angry at her and longed for her to return, of course the fact that she had left without a single word was painful. But knowing she was gone again, that she had been taken away by people that were evil and loathsome and hated witches and wizards that had muggle blood in them, witches like her, that was agonizing. He didn't know he could have so much dizzying worry inside his heart for someone or that the anger he felt everyday at the Death Eaters and at himself, for not being able to keep her safe, could keep him moving in a straight line.
The anger was the only emotion he really let show to anyone else, it was the only way he could continue on day to day without breaking down completely. Sirius knew it was affecting the others around him, his friends and other members of the Order that would come through the house time and again. He was sharp and snippy, had a short fuse when things didn't go his way or his friends shot down ideas he had, kept to himself way more than usual. They understood, of course, as they were all feeling something similar. James and Remus loved Natalie and looked at her as brothers would look at a sister. They wanted to keep her safe just as much as Sirius did, and they were wracked with guilt and anger over the situation as well. Lily was scared, naturally, as she was another muggle born witch and was nervous the Death Eaters would come back for her. James kept her at his side ceaselessly, only ever letting her out of his sight when he absolutely had to. Peter was scared, too, but then again, he was always frightened of something.
None of those feelings came close to the emotional battle Sirius was fighting in his head every day, and they all knew that. He raked his hands through his hair, a deep sigh heaving in his chest. He heard the door behind him and saw James and Remus coming out of the house as he turned around. James walked down the steps and leaned against the railing as Remus sat on the steps with Sirius, closer to the ground than he was.
"Dumbledore wants us to go out to a few places around London," James started, his arms crossed, protecting himself from the wind. He wore a thin sweater, not quite warm enough for the current season. "Says there's signs of Death Eater activity, wants us to see what we find."
Sirius said nothing, not particularly wanting to fill his time with what he thought of as 'busy work'. He wanted to find something that pointed to where Natalie was, and he wanted to find it now. Almost as if his mind were open and on display for anyone to see, Remus said, "The more of them we find, the closer we get to finding someone who knows where she is." Remus was quiet, trying to be the calm and reassuring voice he thought Sirius needed.
Staring out at nothing for another minute more, James and Remus not saying anything, Sirius finally got up. He stuck his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders up to his neck against the cold air. If he didn't keep moving, didn't keep searching for information and for answers, didn't keep trying to find her, he thought he would go insane. Nodding, he said, "Let's go, then," and walked up the steps into the house, the other two men following close behind.
A week had passed incredibly slowly, each second ticking by at an agonizing pace. The room at the end of the hall in the basement of Malfoy Manor was lit by the candles on the walls. Loud screaming could be heard through the thick wooden door all the way up into the first floor of the house. The screaming would occur several times a day for long intervals, only a few short hours of silence graced the house between Gideon Rowe's torture sessions.
In the stone room, Natalie was laying on her back, heaving breath into her lungs at an alarming rate. Tears streamed down her dirty face, leaving streaks across her cheeks where you could see the true color of her skin, not the gray and grimy color that existed there currently. Her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling but seeing nothing, eyelashes clumped together from her salty tears. Rowe had been coming down into the basement every few hours for the past week to ask her questions about the Order, and casting the Cruciatus Curse on her when he didn't receive an answer. She still hadn't said anything about the Order, refusing to endanger her friends and give Rowe the satisfaction of getting information out of her. She still had the mental fight in her to do that, at least.
Rowe spun his wand around his fingers, looking as if the constant torture of the woman in front of him was an every day occurrence, like he couldn't care less about the torment he was putting her through. "We've been at this for six days already, did you know that?" He spoke like he was conversing with someone he just met, polite and measured. "I've got to say, I'm impressed with you. I thought you would have given up by now."
Natalie didn't respond. She refused to engage in his demeaning chatter in between curses, hoping that it pissed him off not to see her get riled up. Her heart rate was coming back down, her breathing becoming more even and normal. She didn't get up from where she was laying on the floor. There was no use, the second she got up Rowe would hit her with the curse again, and she had a much higher chance of injury the further she was from the floor. The first time he cast the curse on her a week ago she had been standing, had fallen to her knees hard though she didn't notice at the time. When he left that night, putting out all the candles and settling the room into a cold darkness, Natalie saw the blood seeping through her jeans. She could feel that her knees were scraped badly, counting herself lucky that she didn't break any bones. The blood had started to dry overnight, gluing her jeans to the open wounds.
Rowe was facing her now. "It occurred to me last night that perhaps continually cursing you isn't really working." He was stroking his face, clean shaven, in what seemed like contemplation. "I think I'm going to have to try something different to get you to talk, Tally."
He kept using that nickname, day after day. Every time he said it, Natalie's stomach would lurch. It made her sick to hear him say it, to hear how he laughed every time she would visibly flinch. He knew it bothered her and that brought him insurmountable joy. Rowe used the name often, sounding as if his tongue was cradling the word as it came out of his mouth, his eyes always set upon her when he did.
"Hearing you scream makes me giddy, truly," he spoke again, a smile spread across his lips. "I could torture you all day. But I do have a job to complete, so we're going to have to move on to something new." He talked to her like she was his partner in this, like she was all for trying a new form of torture. She said nothing, just continued to stare at the ceiling.
He continued, ignoring her silence. "I have a vial of Veritaserum upstairs, that should do the trick, don't you think?" Rowe's eyes glinted in the candlelight. He was excited to cause her more pain, to see her anguish as she helplessly told him what he wanted to know. Turning towards the door, he left her alone in the basement room.
This was bad, very very bad. Veritaserum would definitely get her to spill all the secrets she knew about the Order, about where they were located and who was in it and how involved Dumbledore was and who their contacts in the Ministry were. She wouldn't be able to stop herself. Natalie sat up, struggling to find the strength to lean herself against the hard stone wall. She knew there were ways to fight the effects of the potion, that you had to clear your mind completely and stay calm in order to keep your thoughts to yourself. Could she do that? In her current state it seemed impossible to clear her mind completely, to get herself to be calm enough around the Death Eater that she didn't say anything.
Rowe came back into the room, closing the door behind him with the heel of his boot. He was holding a small glass bottle with a clear liquid in it. There wasn't much in the bottle, the serum didn't even fill the vial halfway. Perhaps she could make him spill the contents before it even came close to her mouth?
He walked toward Natalie, watching her squirm away from her previous spot on the wall in an attempt to get further away from him. She pushed herself into the corner of the room, not able to go anywhere else. Her hands were still shackled in front of her, chained to the floor. He took the stopper out of the vial, tossed it behind him and reached out towards Natalie. She whipped her head to the side, not letting him touch the bottle to her lips.
"Come now, Tally," he chided. "You and I both know you're going to drink this. It's useless to fight." He was bent down in front of her now, one knee on the ground to her right. "Though I do love to watch you struggle." His face held a smirk and he made a laughing noise deep in his throat. It seemed effortless on his part to make her feel panicked and scared.
His left hand held the bottle and his right hand shot out in front of him, fingers grasping the back of her head, his thumb touching her left cheekbone. He held her head to the side easily. Natalie tried to squeeze out of his grip but he was stronger than she was, keeping her in place, the other side of her head scraping against the rough wall behind her. Rowe lifted the vial and pushed it painfully into her lips, parting them without her consent and pouring half the liquid into her mouth.
Rowe relaxed a bit, taking his hand away from her head and waiting for the effects of the serum to seep into her body, still at eye level next to her. "There we go," he said quietly. "That wasn't so bad was it?" He extended his hand again, stroking her hair, fingers brushing stray pieces away from her face. She grimaced, hating the way he touched her almost gently. "Now, we know the other people in the Order have left the place we took you from. There's no more spell on the house, we're able to see it and search it, there's nothing left inside. Tell me, where else would they go?"
The house was empty, the Death Eaters could see it? Where had everyone gone? Fear shot into her stomach like a hot knife. Had they relocated or had something bad happened that Rowe wasn't telling her? She was quiet for a second, turning her gaze to look at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was waiting for her to answer, assuming she had swallowed the liquid. Quickly, she turned her head to face him and spit, splashing the Veritaserum into his face and out of her mouth.
It was risky, hoping that the serum wouldn't work if she didn't swallow it. She had to try, there was no other way she could think of to ensure her mouth didn't work against her in telling Rowe everything she knew. She praised herself silently, relief washing over her as she realized her idea had worked. Rowe's face was wet, liquid from the serum mixed with her saliva dripping off his nose and chin. His face was screwed up in anger, pure hatred directed at Natalie that caused her stomach to flip uncomfortably.
He didn't say anything, no sarcastic remark to be heard, only lunged at her, empty hand finding her jaw quickly. He dug his fingers into her face hard, making her cry out in pain. She was squirming, finding strength she didn't know she had and putting it all into trying to get her face out of his hand. Rowe picked up his other hand, holding the vial with the rest of the clear liquid. She couldn't fool him again, he would make sure she swallowed it this time. In a desperate attempt to keep the serum away from her, she thrashed her body around hoping to knock Rowe over and spill the potion. He held steady, fingers still gripping Natalie's jaw painfully, each one promising to leave a nasty bruise.
Natalie pulled her foot back as far as she could towards her body, a blood stained knee coming up next to her ear, and kicked as hard as she could. Her foot made contact with Rowe's shoulder, making him stagger backwards, releasing her jaw from his hold as he tried not to fall. She heard the distinct sound of shattering glass and looked down at the floor where the vial had fallen, the rest of the Veritaserum flowing out over the floor.
Exhausted but proud of herself, so very proud, Natalie leaned back against the wall and started to laugh, quiet at first but letting her voice grow louder as she saw how it angered the man in front of her. She was taunting him, as he often taunted her, and he was not amused. If looks could kill, she would have keeled over right then and there. Rowe stood, glowering at her, and suddenly reached out and punched her in the face, his hard fist connecting with her mouth. She hadn't expected the assault and fell over to the side from the momentum, tasting the metallic tinge of blood in her mouth. She must have bitten her tongue. She could feel it dripping from her lip as well, thick and hot. He had split it open when his knuckles slammed into her.
Natalie was no longer laughing, any humor she saw in the situation was long gone. Her face was throbbing, but the pain was worth it. Pulling one over on her captor left a sliver of hope in her mind.