A pain made it's way through her arm that was so bad that, for a second, it didn't even register as pain. She could only know it as some otherworldly force, invading, penetrating and consuming her entirely. It was absolute in the control it had of her. And only when that died down into actual pain, only then did she gasp. The breath she'd been holding was forced from her body, tearing apart her throat on the way up.

Pain flared all around her. Her chest tightened around her lungs to the point she couldn't breathe. She gasped out in agony. It was all she could do to squeeze the source of the pain as hard as she could - if she gripped her arm tight enough, then it could cut off the circulation completely. While it didn't stop the burning, it did override it with a more tolerable pain, and steadily resided the horrid sensation into the background.

She stumbled forward again. She looked back up the city road and continued to wobbly trudge forward. Her legs ached. Her walking was slow. What started as a run had degraded into a jog and now barely a limp. And with the burning pain emanating from her arm, each step was becoming an accomplishment. She kept her head down, pushing down hard on her lungs, dragging the will from Merlin-Knows-Where to keep moving.

She could control it. She was strong.

She kept a fist secured firmly around her forearm, as though it might fall away any moment. And with the pain she kept feeling from it, that didn't seem like something unlikely to happen.

As she got further into the city, the light from the streetlamps and shops grew harsher but never seemed to stay still. There was nobody around. All was dead. Soon a light fog had set in, causing the world around her to sink behind an orange glow. A breeze snaked its way around her, causing her to shiver. She'd dressed for ease more than protection tonight - a tight cloak, jeans and big boots. The body-hugging outfit clung to her like a second skin and allowed her to move quickly, but gave no protection from the cold. Fortunately she'd brought a cloak for when she made it back into a wizarding community… which she'd mysteriously lost. It must have been torn from her during her attack.

No, she could deal with the cold. Right now she needed to keep her priorities straight. The knowledge that danger lurked around every corner was at the forefront of her mind. She felt vulnerable and she undeniably was. She had no way to defend herself if her attackers were to catch her up. She couldn't run or call out for help and she would be completely at theirs, or anybody else's, mercy. Closing her eyes, she pushed hard on her lungs again and quickened her pace.

A noise. A soft scraping coming from one of the shops farther down the street. She froze, defenceless, straining to hear which side it came from, and realised in the same moment that a pair of muggle teenagers were leaving a takeout restaurant.

"Hey, you cold, lady?" one of them shouted.

They approached her with enthusiasm, which as they got a better look at her, seemed to fade.

"Get lost, faggots!" she hissed.

Losing their gaul, the children did as they were told. Watching them disappear down the opposing ally, she cursed to herself.

"Shit… fuck…"

She took a jagged breath and closed her mouth sharply. There was a taste of pennies that was churning her stomach.

She didn't know how long she had been running for, but things were getting dizzy now. Whether she was losing consciousness from the pain or she was truly just that exhausted, she didn't know. All she concerned herself with was the more distance she put between herself and them, the better. The shadowy pattern caused by the lamp posts continued as she made her way further down the street. The background noise of cars and muggles became ambience to her. It wasn't much, but it was enough to distract her from the pain. It was something to focus on, something other than the blisters under her feet, the tightness when she breathed, the pounding in her head, the pain from her stomach or the fact that she couldn't see what was behind her.

Breaking from her trance, she glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing there, she silently cursed herself again. She needed to run again. She'd only just slowed down for the first time when the pain in her arm started. She'd ran through busy roads, over garden walls and through back alleys, but all that distance would be for nothing if she let herself think she was safe. She had to get a move on. She had to move now.

But her body was refusing. This new bursting pain in her arm made sure of it. It was taking all the strength in the world just to keep her hobbling forward - if she were to take off into a run now, she would fall flat on her face.

As she went, her eyes remained firming on the ground. She didn't feel like looking around, but she needed to get her bearings. She'd reached the end of the street and where she stood now, shivering from the chill in this poorly lit alleyway, she could see a crossroads in front of her... there wasn't supposed to be a crossroads this way.

Grimacing as oily, pungent scent filled her nostrils, she tried to recall the layout of the underground wizarding community. A right turn at the end of this street, then… then what? The Ol' Pint Pot had to be nearby by now. Once inside she could use the entrance to get through to Shamble Road and…

She didn't know. She truly didn't know.

"Halt. Drop your wand and raise your hands."

Terror flooded her system. She span around in an instant, ready to take off back the way she came, but her body refused.

"Pertificus Totalus."

In an instant, she was as firm as stone. Her fear of being caught was instantly drowned out as, now no longer able to put pressure on her arm, the burning pain returned with a vengeance.

From the shadows emerged a dark figure. Through the rapid blinking of tears in her eyes, she saw qualities in the figure she recognised.

She hissed.

"… you!"

"Rather fortunate, isn't it?" the figure responded.

The spell lifted and she collapsed onto the pavement. Her face hit the floor - it was wet and cold. Barely a second later the sensation in her arm flared again, white hot and she gasped aloud. She convulsed into a foetal position, nothing to distract the agony now.

"Do as I command… Drop your wand and raise your hands," the figure repeated.

She seethed through her teeth.

"I DONT HAVE MY PISSING WAND! I LOST IT!"

The figure took a step closer, the crunch of the pavement beneath his shoes a harsh one.

"Be quiet!" he cursed down at her.

She recoiled. Barely able to see through the wall of tears in her eyes, he watched her from a distance. The fact he hadn't killed her yet was either a good sign or a very bad one.

"You're in pain," he stated.

She groaned.

"Yes, I'm in fucking pain!"

Raising her voice wasn't clever. Another pulsation occurred and she spasmed out, writhing in pain.

"Present your arm to me."

She wasn't in any position to argue. From her place on the floor, she waved her arm vaguely in the direction she was sure he was.

And just like that, the pain left. It was as if a tight fist had been squeezing the life out of her and suddenly released. All her senses came flooding back to her and she swallowed down frantic breaths. The world returned to its normal state around her and the silence was especially loud.

Incredulously, she looked up at her saviour.

"Wha… how… ?" she asked breathlessly.

"Your connection to the Dark Mark has been extinguished."

The words passed over her like nothing. The actuality of that seemed so far away from reality, she didn't entertain the possibility.

"That's… wha..."

When she received no response, just a stern look - the kind that triggered a toxic nostalgia - it began to activate something inside her.

She wiped the drool from her chin.

"W-what? How?" she stammered. "How? How can anyone do that?"

Her saviour's face was blank.

"Give me your mission report."

The pain now gone from her system, recollections, injustices and conflicts of late came rushing back to her at astonishing speed. Her mouth began moving before she could properly consider what left it.

"Carrows triggered the alarm system early... Just like I said they would!" she snapped, then pointed an accusing finger up at him, "And you didn't tell me Tonks was going to be there!"

He stared plainly down at her.

"Would you have gone if I had?"

She spat blood out. Realising at this point she was still strewn across the wet ground, she shifted herself so she was sitting on the brim of the pavement. Taking a deep breath, letting the fresh night air fill her system, she began again.

"No."

"Carry on."

"... Aurors came before they were given chance to secure the weapon. They were out for blood. I did what I had to do to protect myself. One of them got sneaky… got me from behind and…"

Anything after was a blur. Nothing but a mess of flashing images, certain smells and lots of pain. She'd spent the last few days unconscious, only waking up for glimpses at the world around her. The little of it she remembered didn't make a large amount of sense, nor would she know remotely where to begin explaining herself.

Her voice trailed away and she looked over at him, helplessly.

"... I don't remember anything after that."

"... and then you woke up in a muggle hospital?" he asked.

His voice had a tone of amusement in it, one that she could only read as cruel. Her head snapped up in his direction.

"How did you know?"

He grimaced down at her.

"I was there an hour ago to collect you," he spat. "You should have stayed where you were safe."

She gave him a double take. In fact - she disagreed with that sentiment so entirely that what was intended as words was instead an explosion of mismatched noises erupting out of her mouth.

"Wh- Are you mad?" she settled on finally. "They know about me, now! I've been exposed!"

Her voice echoed down the abandoned street.

She was so preoccupied - the overwhelming pain and need to get away had distracted her - but now her reality was as plain as day.

She looked up at the night sky. It began to rain during their confrontation. It was nothing too serious, not enough to take shelter from, but she'd began to notice it. It caused a shiver to rocket through her spine. Damp cold was a special kind of cold. It seeped into your bones and lingered in the body like a vengeful ghost. Despite the rain, it was a relatively clear night, but a pity the stars were not visible through the city's lights.

This was really it, now. She had really messed up in an irreversible way. A lot of things had been relying on her and she'd slipped up at the worst possible time. There was no coming back from this one, she was past the point of no return.

The tears in her eyes were beginning to return.

For the first time, her saviour showed a flicker of emotion.

"It is true…" he said plainly. "... the Woodhouse will no longer be safe for you. I believe it is time for you to disappear."

She scoffed foully.

"Easier said than done! I'm wanted on both sides!"

"I discovered your location days ago now… I had to wait for the right time to make my move," he continued. "You've your teenaged saviour to thank for that. While I knew you were safe, I took the liberty to arrange a safe house for you. Neither party is aware of your survival, nor your location."

She scoffed.

"You're not seriously suggesting I make a run for it? Do you know what they do to people like that?"

He glared down at her.

"Better than you do."

She had seen what happens to people in her situation - either a prolonged, miserable existence and then the quick snuffing out of death, or face an eternity sealed away in Azkaban. She knew what was hanging in the balance and had come to terms with the fates that awaited her should her plan go awry. She knew what was relying on her. She knew the responsibility that she was facing and she'd accepted it all. She had failed, so she deserved whatever fate found her first.

Running was an instinctual reaction - she knew her comeuppance would catch up to her eventually. But her mother didn't raise a coward, and she'd fight off the consequences of her actions until she was the last woman standing. She had come to make peace with the knowledge she'd be dying soon and decided to go out the way she entered, kicking and screaming. She was going to take as many of them down with her as she could.

But this? He was offering her… a chance. To retreat with her tail between her legs. To hide behind others. Carrying on by the skin of her teeth, aimlessly following any existence that would have her… but it was life. It was a chance at life. Even if it sounded too optimistic to be true - if what he was saying had any credence to it whatsoever, surely it deserved entertaining?

"I don't want to die."

He loomed ominously closer.

"Your whereabouts are entirely unknown to everyone except you and I. To the world, you'll have died the night of the incident. Don't waste that opportunity."

She hung on every word he said, trying to find some part of her that believed it.

"... I don't remember you being this nice in school," she sneered.

He looked at her, dry and expressionless as always.

"I went soft."

She smiled at that. He didn't.

She gestured vaugely with her arm.

"What about my Dark Mark?"

"The charm placed over you shall shield you from its influence. It's only a temporary remedy and ancient magic is often… fragile. Like a twig bolting a iron door, as soon as you produce magic - of any kind - the seal will break and the Dark Lord will again learn of your location."

He might as well have struck her - because those words left the same impact, regardless.

She stammered for her words, breathless.

"So... I… I can't use magic?"

He glared down his hooked nose at her.

"Not if you wish to remain alive."

That changed things. That changed things massively.

She could get protection… in exchange for her magic. That, or she risked it out in the world. What kind of decision was that? It was akin to asking her if she prefers death by hanging or execution squad.

Her mind was a mess - she thought about any kind of cognitive reasoning behind it.

"Y-You can't do that! You can't take my magic away from me!"

"I have done no such thing," he said plainly, crossing his arms. "Use it to your heart's content... but be aware that it'll be among the last things you ever do."

She rewound her life to a better time. When she promised herself that she'd do anything it took. When she had people she wanted to impress. When all it took was determination and belief in herself that she was worth it. She needed to harness that same sort of energy again now. She owed it to nobody but herself.

"Tell me… what I need to do."

"Go to the Leaky Cauldron."

"The… the… ?!" she repeated, outrageously.

"You will go to the bar and tell them you're collecting a room key for Cara Harkness. You'll find a package waiting for you in your room."