The knife sliced into her skin with a fiery burning pain, enveloping her arm in a tormented embrace. She fought against the pain, trying to pull her hands free, but the man holding her was much stronger and she didn't budge. He moved the sharp tip of the blade across her skin, savoring the screams coming from her mouth and the way her blood raced across her once soft and beautiful skin.
Gideon Rowe left a series of cuts and slashes on the inside of Natalie's right arm, his left hand holding her still and making it so that she couldn't escape his grasp. She was pale, perhaps from the pain or maybe blood loss, and her face was distorted in pain and the great effort she was putting in to overcome it.
He pulled back, letting her relax for a moment before starting again. He preferred taking his time and waited until he noticed her breathing become more controlled. She was no fun once she passed out, after all.
Just as he was about to start in again, there was a knock at the heavy door behind him. He turned his head and huffed a frustrated sigh, not enjoying being interrupted. "Hold that thought, Tally." He got up and set off across the room, pulling the door open slightly.
Natalie held her breath, trying desperately to hear the conversation from where she sat in the middle of the room, bound to the wooden chair. No one ever knocked on that door, no one ever came down into the basement but Rowe and the occasional Death Eater bringing her food. But even then they only stayed long enough to drop the plate and leave, never stopping to talk to her and definitely never coming to speak to Rowe while he was in the middle of torturing her. Of course, she wasn't angry at the sudden intrusion. But curiosity overshadowed her gratitude at having extra time away from the pain.
She could just barely hear the words spoken between Rowe and what sounded like another man. Rowe's back was turned towards Natalie, making it harder to hear his voice. "Yes, of course I felt it, but I'm in the middle of something if you couldn't tell." He spoke in a harsh whisper, clearly angry at the disturbance.
"Lucius said it was urgent, that everyone needs to disapparate right now," the faceless Death Eater whispered back.
"How does he know that?" Rowe asked.
"I didn't ask, but I wouldn't ignore the call if I were you. The Dark Lord may like you but I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to toss you to the side if you keep him waiting." The stranger spoke hushed and hurried tones. Rowe seemed to nod and closed the door as he turned back towards Natalie.
She said nothing and avoided his gaze, pretending not to have overheard the conversation. He waved his wand and moved the chain that fell from the iron cuffs around her wrists to the other side of the room, forcing Natalie to get up hastily and limp over to her corner of the basement room. She heard the chain fasten to the anchor on the floor and watched Rowe stick the knife into the back pocket of his dark jeans. He waved his wand again and extinguished all the candles, plunging the room into darkness as he walked into the hallway without a word and closed the door.
Rowe had said, 'Of course I felt it'. Natalie knew he meant the Dark Mark. She knew all Death Eaters had one and she knew that's how their Dark Lord called upon them. And from the sounds of the whispered exchange, he was not a patient lord. She was sure he expected his follower's swift arrival upon their notice of the call.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins for the first time in what felt like forever, a crackling energy that she could feel through every part of her body. This was the first time the Death Eaters had been called away like this, at least that she was aware of. They would all be gone, away from Malfoy Manor, leaving her alone and with maybe the only chance she would ever have to get herself out of the hell she was living in.
Natalie was extremely aware of the opportunity she had just been given, and how easily she could fuck it up. She had to devise a plan and quickly, had to somehow think of anything she might encounter or any problem that might arise. First, she had to get out of those damned shackles. Then, sneak into the upper level of the house, find a way out and somewhere to hide once she got there. What time of day was it? She hoped it was nighttime, the darkness would help cover her and keep her concealed. She didn't have a weapon and after a quick sweep of the room from her corner there didn't seem to be one around her either. It was a risk to go out there without a wand or something to protect herself but she didn't see any way around it. How long before they all left? She wouldn't be able to tell when they were gone, the thick wooden door and stone surfaces inside the room kept her from hearing anything else going on in the house. There was no way she would be able to hear a door closing or the familiar pop of someone disapparating.
So, she counted in her head, her mind rapt with attention, until she knew it had been thirty minutes since Rowe had left her alone. Natalie stood up, needing to break out of the cuffs around her wrists before she could do anything else. She had tried to fracture them before, to make any sort of dent in the thick iron to no avail. No, she wouldn't be able to crack them open. There was only one way she could think to get out of them. Steeling herself, knowing more pain was coming but also knowing that it was nothing compared to what she would have to deal with if she stayed in that dark, damp room.
Natalie bent down and put a foot down in the middle of the shackles, her right arm held straight with her hand balled into a fist. She took a deep breath...then pulled her left arm. Hard. The knuckles of her right hand scraped against the stone floor, ripping up little bits of skin as she pulled her other hand towards herself, using more strength than she'd had in a while, not letting herself think of what had to happen to get her hand free of the cuffs. She felt muscles ripple through her thin arm, exerting herself more than she ever had. When she thought her hand couldn't bend anymore, fingers squished together tightly, she gave one more rough pull and felt her thumb crunch under her. Pain rocketed up her arm and she wanted to cry out but only let one soft whimper escape, biting her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood. Shaking, she pulled her left hand free. Her thumb hung pitifully from her hand and she felt the throbbing pain pulsing through her whole arm. She let out a little huff of air that sounded like a laugh, surprising herself.
She cradled her hand close to her and prepared herself, knowing that she had to mutilate herself once more in order to gain her freedom. She had lost a lot of the adrenaline that kicked her into overdrive before, the broken thumb cutting her down considerably, but she put her foot back into place once more and pulled, pulled and pulled some more. The second time was easier, if that could be believed. She held her breath until she felt the pressure release around her hand while simultaneously feeling the agonizing pain of her other thumb breaking. There were tears in her eyes but, again, she stayed silent.
Natalie made her way towards the door, fumbling with the handle for a few seconds before getting it open. Her hands were almost useless, both thumbs broken and limp, but she refused to let that slow her down. She shuffled along the hallway, pushing past the pain in her leg in favor of moving quickly. She was taking in her surroundings, eyes darting to and from quickly, making sure she was staying quiet and unseen. The house was silent, no sign of Death Eaters anywhere.
She got to the top of the stairs and looked around, not knowing where to go to get out of that godforsaken house. Her heart was beating faster than she thought it ever had, and she wondered for a moment if maybe she would suffer a heart attack before she even made it out of that place. She could have laughed at the thought. Natalie took a chance and turned left once she walked through the doorway and away from the stairs.
Her heart stopped and jumped into her throat. In front of her, almost running it over completely in her haste to escape, was a little, wrinkled house elf, dressed in what looked like a large potato sack. It's bald head and incredibly large pointed ears only came up to her thigh. Natalie's breath caught and she froze, staring wide-eyed at the elf. It stared back at her, clearly surprised at her appearance. Neither of them said anything for a long minute.
"Miss isn't supposed to be up here," the elf squeaked, eyes darting around wildly, fragile nimble fingers nervously laced together.
She wracked her brain, trying to think of a way to appeal to the house elf. With her mother being a muggle, they never owned one. Honestly, Natalie thought she would have hated having one, she didn't like the idea of enslaving something to do her chores and run her errands. She knew house elves were notoriously mistreated. "Please," she whispered, her voice raspy and rough from lack of use. "Please, don't call them back. How do I get out of here? Which way is London?"
The poor elf was miserable, obviously torn between staying loyal to it's masters and wanting to help Natalie. It's toes curled anxiously, knobby knees bumping together as if it couldn't stay still for even a second. It took a deep breath and Natalie braced herself, not wanting to have to hurt the little creature but knowing she would if she had to. It spoke quietly, voice shrill, "Go out that door," a long finger pointed in the direction opposite the haggard looking witch. "Head east. Don't let them see you."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," were the only words she could manage to say, and she turned around and hobbled away from the elf, eyes set on a glass door in front of her.
She reached the door and pressed down on the cool, silver handle. Cold air greeted her, hitting her face and sending a shiver down her spine. Oh, she could have stayed in that doorway for a long time, letting herself feel the wind, smell the trees and grass, but she pushed herself forward, not allowing herself even a second of hesitation.
It was dark, well into nighttime. Natalie had to concentrate in order to hear something other than her heart beating loud in her ears. She made her way down concrete steps quietly and immediately crouched down, ensuring she wouldn't be seen from the windows of the house. There was a line of trees a short distance away, an open grassy area separating the building and the woods. She searched for another moment longer, hoping to find another way to reach the cover of the trees, not wanting to fling herself into such an open space with no way to defend herself.
With no other choice, Natalie took a deep breath and forced her legs to move quickly underneath her. Her broken leg protested but she didn't slow down, practically running from the side of the house towards the trees in front of her. She was huffing, not having done something so physically demanding in months, and tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible, not wanting to draw any extra attention to her. Her chest ached from the heaviness of the panic buzzing through her.
She didn't stop running when she reached the tree line, compelling herself to keep going, to get as far away from the house as she possibly could before she just couldn't move anymore. Her hands were on fire, her leg was dead weight but she kept going. Her mind was sharp and insistent even if her body was failing under her, not letting it quit, not yet.
Natalie ran for another ten minutes, deep into the woods now, before her leg gave out completely and she came crashing down to the ground, falling onto her elbows in a desperate effort to keep her broken hands from any more abuse. She crawled over to the trunk of a large tree, leaning against it with her back facing the direction of the house, the sharp bark digging into the protruding spine and shoulder blades of her back.
Her mind was spinning. She got out. Holy shit, she got out. A smile made its way to her lips, a real smile, skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes. Tears dropped from her eyes and onto her cheeks, stinging the cuts on her face from Rowe and his knife. Rowe, who she would never see again. And even if she did, even if the Death Eaters caught up to her and found her, she would fight until her last breath before she would let them take her into that basement again.
She pushed the thoughts from her mind. It wasn't safe for her to stay in one place for too long. She used her fingers to push herself up clumsily, testing her weight on her broken leg before starting to limp off again, not running this time but not taking a leisurely stroll, either.
The house elf said go east. Which way was east? If Natalie had her wand she would have been able to tell in seconds. But she had no wand, and no rising or setting sun to help guide her. She kept walking until she found a small clearing, a break in the canopy of branches, where she could see the night sky easily.
Millions of stars scattered across the sky, seemingly endless, making the black canvas appear almost blue. She scanned the sky, reaching back in her memory to all the astronomy classes she took while at Hogwarts. One cluster of stars in particular could help her figure out which direction she needed to go. It took a few minutes but she finally found the familiar constellation, connecting the stars in her mind and seeing the image of a man wielding a sword and shield. Three stars made a line in the middle of the man's body, a belt, and she kept an eye on one star in particular as she began to move.
London was only about a day and a half walk from Malfoy Manor, but Natalie stretched it out into three days, only moving under the cover of darkness and staying away from major roads and pathways. She didn't sleep, her anxiety wouldn't let her even if she had wanted to. She didn't chance going into towns to steal food, too nervous about being seen and recaptured. She did find a little stream on her second night and thought she had never felt something so amazing as that water splashing onto her dirty face and running down her grimy arms, thought she had never tasted anything as heavenly as the cool water on her tongue, swallowing it down her sore and torn up throat.
She guessed it was late spring, as the days were warm but the nights were still chilled. She paid no attention to the temperature, not feeling the cold nipping at her skin, only concentrating on moving through the woods and brush, dragging her leg behind her.
Natalie finally reached the outskirts of the city on the third night after her escape. She found an abandoned storefront on a quiet street and nestled herself inside until the early rays of sunshine alerted her to the morning hours, nerves keeping her awake the entire time. She knew the Order had changed headquarter locations, so going to the old space was useless and potentially foolish, she expected Death Eaters to be looking for her there. She spent the hours waiting for daylight thinking of where she could run into someone she knew, one of her friends. Of course, that meant assuming the new Order headquarters was still in London and not halfway across the country.
She had to try, had to make any attempt she could at finding her friends and with them, safety. As dawn broke out over the skies, waking up the city and its inhabitants, Natalie made her way out of the building. She kept herself hidden in alleyways and shadowed areas behind shops and buildings, not wanting to draw attention to herself by her appearance or the way she was moving. She trekked across the city, now familiar with her surroundings and confident about her destination.
When Natalie reached the insignificant looking cafe on the corner of two sleepy streets, she immediately found a place to hide in a dark, unused entryway, out of sight to passerby but still able to see the comings and goings of the eatery. Her back was pressed against a broken door, uncomfortable and in pain but not daring to move. The rising temperature and her fatigue were starting to get to her, she noticed it was getting harder to stand up straight and to pay attention. It seemed like hours that she was standing there, fighting herself to stay awake and upright, before she saw a flash of unmistakable sandy colored hair.
The young wizard walked towards the cafe, newspaper in hand and head down, not paying attention to the street in front of him, only immersed with words on pages. He walked into the shop and Natalie waited, breath shallow and heart beating in her throat. She was shaking, her body ready to give out at any second. She forced herself to hold on just a little bit longer, to not pass out just yet, please.
A few minutes later the man stepped back out of the shop, cup in hand and paper tucked neatly underneath his arm. He pulled out a chair from one of the small metal tables surrounding the cafe and seated himself, pulling the paper back out and opening it to an inside page, taking an absent-minded sip of his steaming drink.
Natalie looked around, it was just the two of them for the time being. The street wasn't busy, still too early in the day for the usual foot traffic to start. This was her chance, now or never. She took a step out of the entryway, shaky and uneven on her own feet, wincing at the pain shooting up her leg. She tried to speak but couldn't find her voice, mouth hanging open pointlessly. She tried again, forced her vocal chords to work, to make some sort of noise. One word scraped its way out of her throat.
"Remus?"