About thirty minutes outside the city of London there was a very old town nestled by the banks of the large river that ran out into the North Sea. It was a small town, its main street bustling with people going in and out of shops and cafes, bicycles and cars moving up and down the streets with unhurried purpose. Storefronts were painted in bright, eye-catching colors, windows framed with multicolored flowers in pots and planters. The people there were friendly and it wasn't odd to see someone sitting outside a coffee shop, steaming cup of espresso in hand, wave to the shop owner next door, sweeping their front steps and straightening the flyers taped to their window.
Above a purple painted bakery, sandwiched in between a shop selling any hat that could be imagined and an office for Muggles to go and have their 'taxes' drawn up - whatever that meant - was a small one bedroom apartment. Taking the extremely narrow and steep stairway up from behind the bakery, visitors were greeted by a plain green door. Beyond it was a kitchen that was just a bit too small, enough room in the open space next to it to fit an old sofa and chair set whose cushions had been beaten down over the years, a bathroom that could barely fit two people at a time, and a bedroom with one dingy window that faced the garbage bins lined up against the fence behind the row of shops. It wasn't perfect by any means, it was barely adequate at best. But for Sirius Black it was...well, it would do.
Sirius had moved out of the house used as the Order's headquarters and into the small apartment just a few days before, feeling the immense need for his own space, to have much needed time to himself, away from the constant rotating door of Order members making their way in and out of the house at all hours of the day and night. He had never lived on his own, not really, having gone from his parents house to sharing a room with his friends at Hogwarts to living with them at headquarters. Before, he would have been excited to take this next step into adulthood and a new life, he would have taken the jump with a running start and a grin plastered across his face. Now, though, he did so reluctantly, knowing something was missing.
The rest of the Marauders had come to see the apartment for the first time, crowding into the tiny space and looking over the rooms and all Sirius' things with interest. He didn't have much to fill up a whole apartment, having been confined to one room his entire life prior, but thankfully the space he had didn't allow for many material items. James was gazing out the large window facing the main street, watching the muggles interact with each other below them. Remus had found Sirius' bookshelf and was thumbing through the volumes that filled it, nodding his head appreciatively when he would come across a book he knew. Peter sat in the chair next to the bedroom door, looking predictably awkward and like he couldn't quite make himself comfortable.
"This is a great place, Padfoot," James said, tearing his eyes away from the foot traffic and eccentric shops. "And not far from London, either."
Sirius acknowledged the statement with a polite nod of his head, a lock of hair falling into his face, dark and curling at the end. He ran his hand through his hair, tousling it and clearing his eyes of any strays. He was leaning back against one of the counters in the tiny kitchen, other hand in his pocket where his wand was tucked safely. "Yeah, it's not bad."
"It smells great up here," Peter squeaked, hands clamped together tight in his lap.
Chuckling softly, not surprised that Peter was the first to notice the delicious scents from the bakery below wafting into the apartment, he said, "They're still open for a few more hours, you should stop in before you take off."
Peter nodded then said nothing else, fixing his eyes on a series of knick knacks on the small table next to him. Remus had sat down on the run down sofa, his elbow perched on the armrest and moving a leg up to rest a foot on the opposite knee. "I think you'll enjoy it out here," he said, thoughtfully, watching Sirius closely. They never knew how he would react to anything these days.
Sirius stared at the floor in front of him, not seeing anything but lost in thought. "Maybe," he said quietly. "It's lonely, so far."
He missed the glance the other three men shared. James came closer to the kitchen, ruffling his black hair almost nervously, then crossing his arms in front of him. He looked sad, trying to get Sirius' attention. "Mate...it's been six months."
Remus had the same sad look on his face, Peter wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. Sirius clenched his teeth together, a muscle moving in his jaw rapidly as if he was fighting himself internally to keep his mouth shut. Both hands were shoved to the very bottoms of the pockets of his jeans. Finally, without lifting his head or looking at anything other than the yellow and white checkered tile on the floor, he simply replied, "I know."
James released the breath he had been holding. He didn't want to broach this subject but he knew he had to. If he didn't, no one would. So, he pushed on. "It's time to move on."
Sirius' eyes closed, his eyebrows pushed together roughly, utter pain etched across his strong features. He stayed silent, not able to find any words he knew in the English language that could possibly describe what he was feeling. He knew this time would come, of course, he knew one day he would have to end the insane search he had been on for the last half of a year. But he wasn't ready to give up, to let go.
Remus spoke, his words were careful and measured as if he had been thinking about how to phrase himself for a while. "We can't chase a ghost forever, Sirius."
Tears were stinging the corners of Sirius' eyes, he couldn't speak through the lump in his throat, couldn't breathe because his heart was beating a hole in his chest. He wondered how his heart could still beat so strong and loud in his ears with how broken it felt.
No one said anything more. They were all lost in their separate thoughts, minds chugging along despite the horrible pain settling deep inside their chests. It would haunt them forever, having to give up like this. None of them wanted to, but they all knew it was necessary. Perhaps if they had any reason to believe they could find what they were looking for, any hint or rumor at all. But there had been nothing.
Reality was becoming more and more clear as the days went on - they had to let go. They were stuck in the past while the world around them was moving steadily forward and if they didn't catch up they would lose everything that still mattered. Sirius was the only one that didn't care about moving on, he had already lost the only thing that he loved. However, he found himself drifting along with whatever his friends said was best, having lost the energy to stand up for himself and what he wanted a long time ago.
So, he lived in the small apartment above the bakery, visited the Order's headquarters a few times a week, did the jobs Dumbledore assigned him, walked the shoreline along the river in town to pass time and made no real effort to fill the gaping hole that seemed to take up most of who he was.
With her eyes closed, the woman huddled in the corner of the cold and grimy room in the basement of Malfoy Manor could easily have been thought of as dead. Her skin was gray and dirty, her hair so greasy and filthy that the bright blonde color no longer showed through. She was frail and gaunt - bones jutted out from underneath skin and her eyes were ringed with dark circles, from lack of sleep or bruises. Her ratty and torn clothes hung off of her like they were several sizes too big. Even though the jeans that covered her legs were baggy and loose, it was easy to see that one of her legs was bent at a slightly wrong angle. Bruises and cuts littered her skin. Dried blood stained her shirt, her pants, her face, her arms, her hands.
Natalie had seen better days, that was certain. She hardly ever slept on her own, any rest she got was usually from unconsciousness, but when she did she would often wake thinking she was in hell. She wasn't sure if she believed in heaven and hell, but even if it wasn't real she was definitely in some personalized version of it. Hell on earth, as muggles would say. Though, they would say it about the most trivial things, not about being tortured for months on end.
Gideon Rowe had taken to using physical torture on her and, even though she was still being tormented day in and day out, it brought her some sort of sick pleasure to know she'd held out long enough that he had to resort to using something muggles did to get information. Not much brought her any semblance of joy anymore, but she tried to focus on the little things. Rowe having to use muggle torture tactics, the almost spoiled food someone would bring down to her every few days, the moment Rowe would leave the basement room for the last time every night, still being alive.
That last one was a tricky one. She didn't know, truthfully, if she was thankful to still be alive. Being alive meant waking up to the clammy stone room and being in immense pain. Most days she wished that Rowe would go too far and kill her by accident. Or on purpose, she wasn't picky really. She supposed that meant she had given up. Oh well. It didn't concern her. Natalie had no idea how long it had been since she'd been captured but she knew it had been long enough. If someone was coming to save her, to get her out of that place and bring her back home, they would have done it by now. Either the Order and her friends couldn't find her or they had stopped looking. She hoped they had just given up and moved on with their lives, if she was being honest with herself.
Her friends. She couldn't think about them for very long anymore. It brought her too much grief to think about James and Remus and Lily and even Peter. And Sirius. She really couldn't think about him. Knowing she would never see them again...that pain was somehow greater than the physical abuse she went through every day. Natalie pushed those thoughts away whenever they would surface. Rowe had stopped trying to crack her with Legilimency months ago but she still practiced keeping her mind free and clear of any thoughts. She told herself it was a precaution, that she didn't know when Rowe was going to come back and try to look through her brain again. But a small part of her knew it was to protect herself from having to feel anything too deep. She couldn't handle emotional and physical pain at the same time, and the physical pain wasn't going away any time soon.
She jolted slightly when the heavy door swung open, breaking her trance-like state. Rowe was standing in the doorway, looking pleasant and casual, as if he was there to see a friend for lunch. "Good morning, Tally. Sleep well?" he chuckled to himself knowing she hadn't. Her pain was his pleasure more than ever at the moment.
He walked towards her, wand out in front of him, and waved it wordlessly. The chain keeping Natalie bound to the floor moved into the air, magic unlocking it from the floor and moving it over to a similar spot in front of the chair in the middle of the room. Natalie had to push herself up to her knees to follow it, wincing as she did. Her injuries were extensive, to the point where she couldn't even keep track of them anymore. Shuffling around on her knees meant dragging her legs behind her, which meant putting strain onto her left leg that Rowe had broken with an iron poker from the fireplace upstairs. He hit her with it weeks ago and did nothing about it afterwards, letting the leg set and heal incorrectly on its own. It bent awkwardly in the middle where it should have been straight and it caused her so much agony to put any sort of pressure on it.
She stopped moving once the chain attached to her shackles had more slack. Perhaps it was foolish and stubborn, but Natalie refused to haul herself up onto the chair, allowing Rowe to continue her torture. She didn't have much to live for anymore but she would never willingly put herself into his hands, she would fight him until the day she died.
Rowe saw her stop short and rolled his eyes. "When will you get tired of fighting me?" He reached for her and tangled his fingers in her hair roughly, whipping her up and practically throwing her into the chair. He seemed unruffled, a smirk dancing across his lips.
"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked. Natalie didn't respond. She hadn't spoken in months, not acknowledging his sarcastic remarks, not answering his questions, not even lashing out at him like she normally would. Well, like the old Natalie would have, before she was captured. 'Normal' took on a completely different definition now and she had a hard time thinking about the way she used to be, so trusting and naive, so weak. Maybe she wasn't as strong as she was stupid, but it made her feel powerful to stay silent, to know that it got under the Death Eater's skin if only just a little. He didn't allow her to be completely silent, though not for lack of trying on her part. He did still get her to scream out in pain and that was something she couldn't help even if she tried her hardest.
Rowe was still looking at her, a playful glint in his eye. He was crouched over, eyes level with hers. He always stood too close - Natalie wasn't sure if he knew it made her uncomfortable or if he did it out of his own sick pleasure. He was constantly stroking her hair, running a single finger along the length of her jaw, placing a hand too far up on her thigh or too far down off her shoulder. Even though she tried to stay cold and indifferent to the things he did she couldn't help but rip herself away from him as much as she could when he did those things. She was used to him touching her, hurting her, but that touch was different and it was one that she was still distinctly scared of. The fear of being hurt had long since disappeared but that faux gentle touch promised a hurt that she didn't know how she would be able to cope with.
Natalie wouldn't look him in the eye but that didn't stop him from continuing to talk to her. "I was told to give up on you months and months ago. Everyone said to just kill you and get it over with, that you'll never talk and I'm wasting my time." A small voice at the back of her head said 'just do it.' He craned his head to the side to try and reach her gaze. "But I couldn't just give up on you, Tally. You're my girl, what would I do if I couldn't see you everyday?"
His girl? She looked at him then, hard and hateful, almost wishing he would lift his wand and rifle through her thoughts so he could see the things she was thinking about him. Rowe laughed when she glared at him, apparently loving how he could upset her so easily. Natalie blinked and suddenly his face had changed. The smile was no longer on his face, his eyes were no longer playful but dark and dangerous.
He extended his hand towards her face and grazed her cheek with the back of his fingers. She screwed her eyes shut and moved her head away from his touch, pushing herself back against the chair as far as she could. The Death Eater reached his hand further towards her face and he was very close to her now. She could smell his cologne, could have choked on the stifling smell of sandalwood. He brushed the hair out of her face, taking too long and letting his hand touch her jaw and ear. Rowe kept his hand on the side of her face but slowly moved his thumb to her bottom lip where he rubbed it slowly from one side of her mouth to the other.
So this was it, this was the last form of torture he was going to use on her. She hardly cried from the constant torture anymore, forcing herself to be numb to the world and what it was doing to her. Natalie could have cried now, could have sobbed from the thought of what Rowe was going to do to her. He had hurt her in so many ways but this was the worst thing she could have imagined.
Natalie was exhausted, mentally and physically and every other way possible. She was tempted to just let it happen, whatever Rowe had planned, and just shut down, turn herself off and not let herself feel anything. Deep down she knew it wouldn't work like that, she would feel everything and he would finally make good on his promise to break her. Even if he got his way, even if he ended up killing her, she had to give everything she had to fight him off. She had ruined all his other torture attempts, why should this one be any different?
Rowe moved his rough finger again, managing to part her lips despite her attempts to keep them clamped shut, and slid it in her mouth, searching for her tongue. Without a second thought, Natalie smashed her teeth down onto his thumb, as hard as she possibly could, putting every last ounce of physical strength into her bite. Hadn't she read somewhere that humans could bite through the bones of a finger as easily as biting through a raw carrot? She thought the fact was probably incorrect in that moment, as she sank her teeth down through skin and tasted blood on her tongue.
He ripped his finger from her mouth, yelling in shock and pain, grabbing his thumb protectively. Before he could hit her or choke her, she leaned forward and spit the mouthful of his blood at him, hitting him on the side of his face. She was breathing hard, from physical exertion and fear, fists clenched under the iron pieces holding her hands together.
She wasn't sure if she had ever seen Rowe that angry before. His face was contorted and twisted in pure, unadulterated fury, white hot and raging and aimed directly at her. The man stood and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small dagger. Natalie was familiar with this weapon, she had many scars thanks to that silver blade and textured black handle. She thought faintly that he might stab her through the chest and finally finish her off.
He didn't stab her through the chest, instead arching his arm forward and slashing her across the face. Pain blossomed immediately from her cheek as large trails of blood traced their way quickly down her face and onto her neck, dripping onto her chest and shirt. She heard Rowe yelling at her somewhere in the far off distance but she couldn't decipher what he was saying. She had slipped back into the same dazed state she had been in before, the one that made her desensitized and kept her safe inside her mind.