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[((Sorry this has taken so long. Here's part one of chapter eight.))]

((Sorry this has taken so long. Here's part one of chapter eight.))

The scream that came when finally Nadia could not hold her own against torture hurt more than any scream Remus had ever endured. Every weary muscle in his body tensed, his jaw clenched, and his heart painfully skipped a beat in its already heavy tattoo against his chest. Things had officially gone from bad to worse—no, no, that wasn't right. Things had skipped right over worse and sped on to horrible, to dire, even. How were they going to get out alive?

"Cru—"

"No, no, unfortunately that's enough! The Dark Lord said to leave her once she cracked," admonished an undistinguishable male voice from underneath a mask. "He'll delight in picking up where we so humbly left off." Remus gulped. He didn't make the mistake of assuming that Nadia was in any condition to grapple with Voldemort himself.    

She wasn't.

Low, rumbling laughs—irritatingly mixed with Bellatrix's high-pitched giggling—followed the Death Eaters out of the dark room. How much time had passed since they had come in? Remus didn't know. It seemed like centuries. Ages. Eons. Too long, by far.

His chair shook as Nadia coughed and sniffled. Was she crying? He listened. Yes, Nadia was either crying or shaking in fear. Wouldn't have made your pathetic heart ache two months ago, some voice insolently commented.

We weren't partners two months ago, and besides, I hated her, he snapped inwardly at the hateful voice.

Forget him, a gentler side said of the rude one. Comfort her.

How? he wondered. What did one say in this sort of situation? 'Hey, there there, it'll all be alright'? Remus rolled his eyes. Of course not. As a matter of fact, there was a strong possibility that the opposite would be the outcome of their increasingly bleak situation.

"Nadia?" he asked. Oh yeah, the voice jabbed at him, comforting.

She mumbled something that, even with the earpiece, Remus didn't catch. He frowned. This wasn't the Nadia that had tormented him throughout school or thrown daggers into a table and pulled them out repeatedly just to get on his last nerve. Remus wasn't even sure if this was Nadia. It wasn't any part of Nadia he'd ever seen—or, he thought, heard—before.

He really wished he could do something, even if it wasn't play hero and get them the hell out of this bloody room. Nadia was worse off than Remus originally thought. She might have been a little better with sleep, he supposed, but there was no sleep in these d**ned wooden chairs! There were definitely blackouts, but those weren't very restful. There certainly were no dreams...

Just nightmares.

Flexing his hand, Remus winced. His muscles were getting stiff, a culmination of staying still for so long and the beginning of his symptoms before the full moon. He almost jumped when he felt another hand brush against his, settling down when he realized it was just Nadia's.

The gentle voice in his head nudged him, and he could almost see it smile encouragingly. Slowly, with a little stab of pain, Remus took Nadia's slim hand in his rough one. As he rubbed little circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, Remus heard Nadia begin to calm down. Her breathing pattern slowed to a normal one, and she wasn't shivering so violently anymore.

There, said the gentle voice. Good job.

Remus couldn't find it in him to disagree.

((Like I said, so sorry! I had it last week, but the site wasn't working. Thoughts?))

[((Okay, for real, this is the last bit for a while. I don't know when I'll get the spurt of inspiration I need to make the next chapter awesome, but until then, enjoy this.))]

((Okay, for real, this is the last bit for a while. I don't know when I'll get the spurt of inspiration I need to make the next chapter awesome, but until then, enjoy this.))
Sometime later the door to the room opened, and in sauntered Bellatrix Lestrange, followed by a host of Death Eaters. All but Bellatrix were wearing masks. "Let's see if we can crack the girl now," she said over her shoulder, obviously the leader of the group. They all ignored Remus, marching around him to Nadia. Unable to feign sleep any longer, Remus jerked his head up and listened.

"The werewolf's awake," remarked a male voice; Rodolphus, Remus recognized after a few seconds.

"Leave him, darling," Bellatrix responded, a grin obvious in her tone. "He'll get enough torture tomorrow night."

Remus drew in a breath of horrified realization. Tomorrow night was the full moon. He couldn't feel the side effects yet, but he soon would. If they didn't get out of here by tomorrow night, then Nadia was in real danger.

She's in enough danger now, he thought, frustrated.

"Wake up, sweet!" said Bellatrix in that mock-baby voice she'd used to undermine Remus and Lily as prefects. A horrible pop! sounded, and Nadia's head banged against his. Bellatrix must have slapped her. "I said wake up!" she growled. Nadia moaned. "That's right. Now, sweet, can you hear me?"

"Unh..." was translated in Remus's ear to "Unfortunately." Had he not replied the same to a similar question Nadia had asked, just weeks ago? Now Remus took offense at Bellatrix turning the question on Nadia, amusement at Nadia turning his answer on Bellatrix.

"Don't listen to her, don't listen, focus on my voice." His mouth moved desperately, and oh, he hoped no air was coming out, that the earpiece was still doing its job.

"Good. We want you awake. Ready?" The voices of the Death Eaters chorused an amused affirmative.

"Crucio!" cried out five voices at once. Another voice gasped through gritted teeth, making a noise that sounded like something between a whimper of pain and a scream. Remus cringed as his chair shook, and the room was filled with red light. Nadia's whimpering seemed to last forever, even after the red light had gone. Please, he urged an unseen force, please, make it stop. Let someone come for us. Someone. Anyone. Before they really hurt her...

Or I do tomorrow night.

((Thoughts? Anything in particular you'd like to see happen after they escape, provided ;) they do? PLEASE lemme know, it'll help me write faster.))

[((Okay, this'll be it for...an undisclosed amount of time. School cranks back up on Monday here...so. Enjoy. Heck, I'll divide it into two bits. ;D ))]

((Okay, this'll be it for...an undisclosed amount of time. School cranks back up on Monday here...so. Enjoy. Heck, I'll divide it into two bits. ;D ))
Remus wondered at the fact that Nadia was still conscious. Most people he knew blacked out after two or three bouts with the Cruciatus curse...before she'd stormed out, Bellatrix had succeeded in performing it four or five more times on his comrade. More intriguing still was that Nadia had not screamed. He had known that people with the all-mysterious "Agency" Nadia's father ran—had run, Remus corrected himself—were tough, but could they possibly have been trained to last so long when tortured?

"She'll be back," Nadia's voice said into his ear. "Probably'll beat me before another round."

Not very reassured, Remus remarked silently, "You still didn't scream."

"I doubt if you would've liked to hear that, Remus," Nadia said on a whisper. "I doubt it very much." She started coughing once more.

Leave it to Nadia, he reflected, to retain her humor in such a situation. "Have you been tortured like this before?" he asked.

He must've sounded thunderstruck, because Nadia's voice turned serious. "A couple of times, yes." If not for the earpieces, he would've been straining to hear her. "Let's hope they'll focus on me and not you. I've been coached on how to handle it."

That didn't matter, Remus vaguely thought. He'd take it if it meant not hearing her in so much pain. "There's only so much a man-"

"Or woman."

He laughed, but only briefly. "Or woman," he conceded, "can take."

"Hm," Nadia murmured in agreement. Remus felt her head move away from his.

"Nadia?" he asked. "Nadia." No answer. "Nadia, are you alright?" Still no answer.

He was alone.
((Dun dun dun. Thoughts? Comments? Random caffeine fueled insanity? Whatever it is, post it here for the next bit. Happy New Year!))

[((Do you have a Yahoo Messenger account? Or just e-mail address? Look for an e-mail from Lara Croft. Teehee, don't ask.))]

((Do you have a Yahoo Messenger account? Or just e-mail address? Look for an e-mail from Lara Croft. Teehee, don't ask.))

[((Well, no book ideas yet, but I'm trying my hand at original short stories as well as fanfictions. I've won a couple of writing contests in recent years, so at least someone thinks it's alright. If you'd like to see my original stuff, I could e-mail it to you.Would you like more, or shall I save it for tomorrow? It's nothing very exciting, mind.))]

((Well, no book ideas yet, but I'm trying my hand at original short stories as well as fanfictions. I've won a couple of writing contests in recent years, so at least someone thinks it's alright. If you'd like to see my original stuff, I could e-mail it to you.

Would you like more, or shall I save it for tomorrow? It's nothing very exciting, mind.))

[((You know, I've always thought it was sadly amusing that Sirius was such a playboy while he was in school, and he didn't end up married before he died. Anyway. *shuts mouth and gets on with story*))]

((You know, I've always thought it was sadly amusing that Sirius was such a playboy while he was in school, and he didn't end up married before he died. Anyway. *shuts mouth and gets on with story*))

Obviously sensing that Nadia was on the verge of making a comment that would result in more torture, Remus interrupted her. "They never can shut up, can they?" he inquired of Nadia as pleasantly as if he'd just asked her for the time. Nadia smiled to herself. So she had taught him a thing or two.

"And they're all ugly as hell," Nadia added, feeling as if they were carrying on another mid stake-out commentary. "Dearest Bella and Cissy seem to have gotten the short end of the good looks stick in the Black family."

"Crucio!"

More blinding pain. Nadia bit her lip so hard that for a moment she thought she would draw blood. Oh, but it was worth it. Remus might've made her smile, but she'd had to get a jab in Sirius's honor. "Never," said Bellatrix as the red light of the curse disappeared, "talk about Cissy." Nadia felt too weak to come up with a response, and she coughed so hard that her eyes watered. "Oh, are we going to cry?" Bellatrix asked in a voice one might use with an infant.

Yes, thought Nadia with a quavering laugh, your face just hurts me that badly. Her laugh dissolved into another coughing fit.

Remus's voice crackled in her ear, "You sound awful." He was using the earpiece, Nadia realized, but she couldn't respond. Bellatrix would see. "You're going to cough up blood if you don't stop."

"Perhaps we should quit for now," Bellatrix went on, unaware that Remus was "speaking" to Nadia. "I'm not sure we can take it." There it was, noted Nadia, that note on the air that contradicted Bellatrix's every word. She had her memory ready, this time, ready to go just as the woman opened her mouth and screeched "Crucio!"

"Well, Padfoot, what've we got here?" James's voice echoed over the pain. It was Christmas in this memory, and James's family had invited Nadia and her father over for dinner. She let herself fall into the memory, just as her father had taught her.

"Looks like a girl," Sirius answered James with a wide grin, giving her an appreciative glance. He didn't cross the Potters' doorstep, however, as her father slid past him and James with a low greeting.

"Good evening, sir," said James. Once Nikolai had disappeared down the hall, James looked between Nadia and Sirius with a knowing smile and persisted, "And not a bloody bruise, wouldn't you know? She's dressed in a color other than black!"

"Or Ravenslaw blue," Sirius maintained, using his and James's immature name for the House of Ravenclaw. "And she's in a dress!" His eyes glowed at the realization.

"Are you two gits going to let me freeze," laughed Nadia, "or are you going to let me in?" She held up two tins, one clearly marked for each of her friends. "I bring good tidings of food."

James snatched his without question. "Cookies!" he cried triumphantly, yanking Nadia in by her arm and forcefully hugging her. "You're going to make old Padfoot a happy man someday," he stage-whispered into her ear. Sirius punched James's arm and shoved him toward the Potters' living room as Nadia giggled at James's unique thanks. She knew he'd have his tin of cookies open before he reached the den.

"Out with you!" Sirius called after James.

"Sirius and Nadia, sitting in a tree!"

"Out!" Sirius shouted again.

"K-i-s-s-i-n-" Nadia gave James what he had famously dubbed "the look," and James needed no further convincing to leave.

When James—still half-singing his little song under his breath—had finally gone, Nadia shook her head and said, "Welcome to a Potter and Ramsden Christmas dinner." Smiling, she held out Sirius's tin of cookies. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," he returned, gently taking it from her. "You look really, erm, nice. With, y'know, your hair down. And all."

She laughed, not knowing what else to do. "Thanks. He was just kidding about it all, you know."

"I know."

As the red once again disappeared, Sirius's face, too, faded away. Nadia held onto it for as long as she could...and got a distinct impression of disappointment from Sirius's expression. Maybe she was just reading too much into things, as usual.

"Can you hear me?" A door slammed shut on the edge of reality. Nadia blinked and shook her head, though it hurt. She was coughing again, and felt a warm liquid on her knees, seeping through her clothes. Remus's voice was quiet, shaken...fearful. "She said you coughed up blood. All over her. She wasn't very happy."

Nadia felt dizzy. She wanted to respond, but didn't. She was too tired. She hurt. She just wanted to be in her nice, cozy bed. At home. In fact, she'd give all the money in her savings to be back at that Christmas dinner.
((Well? I rather loved that memory. What'd you think of it? More when you tell me. ^_^))

[((Ah, but dagum it, there's no window in the room. It's a basement. I think I have their route of escape, now...))]

((Ah, but dagum it, there's no window in the room. It's a basement. I think I have their route of escape, now...))
"Perhaps a little persuasion?"

The phrase reverberated through Nadia's mind. Voldemort spoke as if he were going to make a convincing presentation to Nadia on why she should have more grace than to tell even those whom she hated to go to hell. Yes, from his tone he sounded like a nice guidance counselor, and his wand—a wand that had cast many a killing curse—seemed for a moment as if it was going to act as a sort of pointer. Nadia knew, however, that she was hardly about to receive a little talk centered around minding her language: 'persuasion' was just a polite little way of referring to torture.

Closing her eyes, Nadia saw her father standing in front of her. It was only a memory, but the memory was a startlingly clear one. In this memory, she herself sat tied to a chair, not unlike her present situation.

Standing with the same ramrod-straight posture which he had instilled in her, Nikolai Ramsden was an imposing figure to all who saw him. He had his arms crossed behind his back, and his face was grim. Later, he had told Nadia that torture was the one lesson he hadn't looked forward to teaching her. However, it was a lesson all agents of his agency had to learn.

Breathing in and out slowly, Nadia wondered at the grieved look in her father's eyes. It can't be that bad, she naïvely told herself.

"You will hate me for this, sweet," said her father softly, "and I cannot say that I shall blame you." He looked away from her. "That you are my daughter does not excuse me from educating you fully on surviving even the worst aspects of torture." Nikolai fell silent.

"Daddy?" Nadia prompted him, frowning. Her eyes tracked him as he began to pace like an angry lion.

Steeling his face into an unreadable expression, Nikolai launched into one of his renowned lectures. "Muggles will focus on physical pain. Mutilation. Broken bones. Endless beatings." He abruptly stopped pacing, still not daring to meet her eyes. Instead of a soft, mournful tone, Nikolai's voice rang with strength, commanding Nadia's utmost attention. "All of which are reprieves from a wizard's combined arsenal of physical and mental pain."

Inhaling sharply, Nadia could do nothing but stare at her father, waiting for whatever was to come. She could tell that inside, the infamous Agency's commander was faltering. As he spoke, Nikolai's native Russian accent crept onto the British one he had picked up upon moving to England, a sure sign that he was nonplussed.

Nikolai came forward and knelt before Nadia, affectionately entangling his fingers in her hair. Looking up, Nikolai's gaze was intense. "Memory, my sweet, is an effective defense when one isn't faced with a skilled Legilimens. After a while, the Cruciatus curse will break through." He stood, planting a kiss on Nadia's forehead as he straightened. "It all depends on the memory."

"Persuade all you like," Nadia finally countered, the corners of her lips upturning in a defiant grin, "but if you ask me, killing someone's father and then threatening her with torture aren't exactly the best in recruiting measures." She already had a memory in mind, but whether it was strong or not would be up to time to tell.

Voldemort began to speak again, but a harsh female voice screamed over his, "Crucio!" Nadia's back arched, and her face wrenched in pain. She hadn't expected that one, but thankfully the first few were always the worst. Sharp, needle-like sensations pierced every centimeter of her skin—her darkest fear, needles! Were they getting better at this?

When finally the real feeling of the curse subsided, Nadia collapsed against the bonds on her chair, the prickle of needles prolonged by her deep-rooted hatred of them. Bellatrix was laughing...Nadia was vaguely aware of the young woman's hand on her face. "You didn't scream," Bellatrix said in slight awe.

"She's her father's daughter," Voldemort coolly observed. "But even Nikolai broke."

Nadia wretched her chin out of Bellatrix's grasp. "Don't talk about my father." Behind her, she could hear Remus breathing heavily. What would he do when their amusement with her grew thin, and their attention turned to him? Nadia knew she had to keep the two interested.

"You aren't in a position to make demands, Miss Ramsden." Voldemort shook his head and headed for the door. "If she changes her mind, Bella," he called over his shoulder, "send word." There was a bright burst of light, and then the sound of the door slamming shut.

"You're all alone with me," Bellatrix said lightly, amused. She took a step back. "How'd you like it? Did it just scare you so?"

"Almost as much as your face," Nadia retorted, still panting slightly.

To Nadia's surprise, Bellatrix simply snorted. "Did my dear cousin teach you that? I'm sure he's missing you right about now." Narrowing her eyes, she grinned and added, "Probably wondering if ol' Wolfy there is your new lover."

"In a battle of wits, Bellatrix," rasped Remus suddenly, "you would certainly lose to Nadia."

"Oh, he is your lover, then?" Bellatrix intoned, chuckling darkly. "Don't think Sirius'll like that. But then, you never said 'yes' to him, did you?"

Rolling her eyes, Nadia shot back, "Is useless yammering the way you lot torture people now?" No, she thought with a frown, she hadn't said 'yes' to Sirius; she'd kept on being friends with him. Just friends...

It was none of Bellatrix's business.
((If I said what I wanted to say about that last bit, for those of you who haven't figured some things out, it'd give a lot away. So I just won't say anything but ask for your thoughts! Please let me know your thoughts. Then and only then shall I post more. ^_^))

[((Well, I believe we shall see. Anywho, this next chapter is still work in progress...so I'm not posting it JUST yet. But I do have a couple of questions, if you don't mind answering. :DShould Sirius and James be the ones to save Nadia and Remus?What would you like to see happen, provided Remus and Nadia are freed?))]

((Well, I believe we shall see. Anywho, this next chapter is still work in progress...so I'm not posting it JUST yet. But I do have a couple of questions, if you don't mind answering. :D

Should Sirius and James be the ones to save Nadia and Remus?

What would you like to see happen, provided Remus and Nadia are freed?))

[((Hm. Never thought of Remus holding her hand, but it sounds incredibly...huh. I'd better stay quiet. ;D ))]

((Hm. Never thought of Remus holding her hand, but it sounds incredibly...huh. I'd better stay quiet.  ;D ))

James knew that things were serious when Albus Dumbledore sat down in a stunned silence at his desk, resting his elbows on the desktop and bringing the tips of his fingers together. The headmaster's eyes were thoughtful behind the lenses of his half-moon glasses, and Dumbledore himself looked grimmer than James had seen him in a long while.

   As Dumbledore contemplated all that he'd been told, James turned to glance at Sirius...and found Sirius pacing restlessly. With a frown, James pushed the bridge of his thick-rimmed glasses back up his nose. Sirius was close to Nadia, almost as close as James was. James was disturbed by Nadia and Remus' disappearance, but probably nowhere near as much as Sirius was disturbed by it. Sirius looked after Nadia like she was the little sister he'd never had, and Nadia doubtlessly knew Sirius better than James himself did.

   Almost as if he felt James' eyes on him, Sirius stopped pacing long enough to look at James. Too many friends have disappeared at Voldemort's hands lately, James thought, figuring that the same thought was most likely circling Sirius' mind. Words of comfort were useless; Sirius wouldn't be comforted until Nadia and Remus were found alive.

   "I didn't send either of them any orders Saturday night," Dumbledore intoned gravely, folding his hands in his lap. "And what bothers me is the fact that she believed an obviously faked letter. She knows I send her and only her any orders."

   "It's not like her at all," Sirius gruffly agreed. "Nadia-"

   Dumbledore held up his hand to silence Sirius. Hearing footsteps hurrying toward the door, James, too, straightened and listened. The door was flung open, and McGonagall exclaimed, "Headmaster, quickly! A body's been found at the gates!"

   Sirius exchanged a terrified look with James and dashed out the door. Following his friend's example and not waiting on Dumbledore, James turned and pushed past the head of Gryffindor house, taking the stairs two at a time in order to catch up with his best friend. Just as he flew over the bottom step, James heard Dumbledore and McGonagall scrambling to follow them.

   As he caught up with Sirius, James heard his friend muttering, "It's not her, it's not her, it's not her," over and over like he was chanting some sort of incantation.

   Poor Padfoot, thought James as they sprinted through the familiar halls of Hogwarts. Of course, James wasn't immune to the same sentiments as Sirius. The Potters had lived next door to the Ramsdens since before James had been born, and in lieu of a sibling, he'd grown up alongside Nadia. They had practically lived at each other's houses and driven both of their parents crazy once they'd gotten brooms to fly. Memories flashed by at random: he and Nadia playing one-on-one Quidditch, he and Nadia getting on the train to Hogwarts for the first time, he and Nadia playing against each other as Seekers for their respective houses' Quidditch teams, Nadia rubbing a major Defence Against the Dark Arts grade in Remus' face, Nadia as Lily's maid of honor at his and Lily's wedding...

   He realized that in his mind, Nadia was impervious to death. How could Nadia possibly die? She'd been there for him for as long as he could remember, and James had gotten used to thinking that could never possibly change. Engrossed in these recollections, James ran straight into Sirius, who'd come to an incredulous halt at the gates of Hogwarts. "Sorry, ma-"

   Stopping mid-apology, James saw that it wasn't Nadia or Remus' body dumped carelessly at the gates...it was the body of Nadia's father.

   Stumbling back as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him, James felt two hands catch him just before he fell to the ground. If he had thought death held no sway over Nadia, then he'd certainly believed that Nikolai Ramsden was immortal...

   He had been wrong.

   Dumbledore knelt at the lifeless man's side, finding a note in Ramsden's shredded pocket. He stood up and read it to himself.

   "What does it say, Albus?" McGonagall, who kept a firm grip on James, inquired. James shook his head quickly and came back to reality. It wasn't like Voldemort or his followers to leave notes.

   Grimly, Dumbledore read aloud, "'His sweet will be next.'" Sirius snatched the note out of Dumbledore's hands and glared at it as if it were a Death Eater in disguise. Patiently, Dumbledore inquired, "I presume that refers to Nadia?"

   Nodding stiffly, James replied, "Nikolai called her his sweet." His voice seemed to be coming from some imposter...things went on as if James were watching from the sidelines. There was no question now that Voldemort had Nadia, and more than likely Remus.

   The question was...was either of them still alive?

((Just wondering...do you guys and gals think Remus is going to lose or win the bet? Lemme know! More as soon as you answer my question, lovely readers.))

[((Close, close...let's find out.))]

((Close, close...let's find out.))
Remus fell into a rather embarrassed silence. What had he thought she said? Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Remus could’ve sworn that Nadia had named her lips—not her fists—as her army of choice.

The part of Remus that still resisted all friendly thought of Nadia made his current train of thought squeal to a screeching halt. Wishful thinking? it scolded. Of course not. You don’t think of her like that. Ever.

That isn’t true, said a second part. Remember that blind date?

He didn’t know who she was! protested the first part.

Moaning, Remus hissed, “The both of you, shut it.” All this thought was making his head throb. What did it matter how he thought of Nadia? They were probably going to die pretty soon, anyway, and there was no way Nadia could free herself to “come back there”…was there?

“I wasn’t aware there was anyone else in the room, Lupin,” said Nadia from behind him. He heard her gasp for breath afterward, and supposed that in the small brawl she’d started, Nadia had probably sustained a few bruised ribs or worse. It sounded as though the effort it took for Nadia to speak wasn’t helping her condition at all.

“Stupid question,” Remus changed the subject and apologized before he even made his inquiry, “but are you all right?” They were so close in proximity that he could faintly smell the clean, ocean-like scent of her hair. She always smells nice, he thought absently to himself. Perhaps it was because Nadia wasn’t the dreadful creature from hell that he’d always made her out to be…something told Remus that creatures from hell smelt of ashes, not the ocean.

Oblivious to Remus’ thoughts, Nadia replied with an incredibly shaky laugh, “Not…sure. Breathing hurts worse than…” She coughed, and moaned before she finished, “worse than usual. Talking…” Again, Remus noticed the vast amount of energy it took for Nadia to string together a few words. “…doubly so.”

Feeling her head droop forward and away from his, he frowned in slight concern. Sure, he himself had been thrown through a window, but he hadn’t put up an exhausting fight as she had. “Try not to talk so much,” Remus chided her, his voice softened by his concern.

She chuckled frailly. “If I didn’t know better…” There was a long pause before Nadia continued, and Remus straightened in the darkness, alertly listening until she said, “I’d say you were a…a little worried about me.”

“A little,” Remus admitted, trying to keep up a bright dialogue for her benefit. “I couldn’t fight our way out of here like you could.” What he didn’t say was that he had been frightened by how the Death Eaters had taken her down. If they could defeat such a competent witch as Nadia, what hope was there for the rest of the Order? Certainly, there was strength in numbers, and the Death Eaters had remembered that before the young witch.

“I’m flattered, Remus.” Although Nadia broke down into another coughing fit, he could hear the smile in her voice. “Really.”

He couldn’t help but smile to himself—she’d never called him by his first name in such relatively civil circumstances before. The way she said it had a nice touch to it…it was just…

Remus wasn’t sure what it was, but he sort of liked it.

Before he could say more, however, the door to the basement was thrown open, and a seemingly blinding light preceded the two figures that entered the room. Remus, who’d closed his eyes against the light, didn’t see who the figures were until the door had shut and he opened his eyes. Once his eyes focused, he found Bellatrix Lestrange smirking at him from behind Voldemort, her wand emitting a glowing light.

Nadia’s head snapped up against Remus’, and again her head collided with his. “Sorry,” she hissed, a ferocious tension filling her tone.

“Oh, Master, she’s awake!” Bellatrix squealed in delight, clapping her hands together and giggling the most sinister giggle that Remus had ever heard.

Voldemort grinned a grin that raised chills on Remus’ arm, and Remus suddenly feared for Nadia. What were they planning on doing to her? Unfortunately, some part of him had a good idea. “How kind of you to join us, Miss Ramsden! I trust you’re well.” With Bellatrix following at his heels, Voldemort walked completely around Remus to speak with Nadia.

Remus heard a snarl in Nadia’s voice as she replied, “Go to hell.”

Laughing coldly, Voldemort kept up a pleasant tone. “Now, now. I’d hoped for more eloquence than that, Miss Ramsden. Perhaps a little persuasion?”

Gritting his teeth in worry, Remus held his breath. It made him quite uncomfortable not being able to see what went on behind him. Maybe that was the enemy’s intention in tying them to chairs that sat back-to-back. He wasn’t well as it was…

He didn’t need Nadia screaming in agony to add to his unease.
((Well...hm. My favorite part was when Remus figured out that creatures from hell would smell like ashes, not the ocean. Yours?...other thoughts?))

[((Haha. Well, she does have that scratchy voice Remus likes/hates so much. At least, she did in Casino Royale. And as for Sirius and James saving the day... ;) I'm not sure yet.))]

((Haha. Well, she does have that scratchy voice Remus likes/hates so much. At least, she did in Casino Royale. And as for Sirius and James saving the day... ;) I'm not sure yet.))

Consciousness was an elusive creature. Nadia wasn’t sure at what point in reality she finally grabbed hold of it, but when she did, she was slow to open her eyes. In her experience, the light when one woke from a period of unconsciousness was unbearable, and moreover, it was smart to feign that unaware state just a little while longer in order to check out one’s surroundings. All these were things she’d learned from her dad, who would tell her when she got out of this—

Nadia’s thoughts came to a stop, and her eyes opened wide to the darkness that surrounded her. Remembering that she had just seen her father killed the last time she was conscious, Nadia felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Her father was dead. Daddy’s…gone?

The words echoed around her mind. Daddy’s gone. It seemed...strange to think, this phrase. It couldn’t possibly be true! Nikolai Ramsden was an immortal, in Nadia’s mind, an immortal that seemed ten feet tall and completely spell-proof. In public he had been the Commander; in private, he’d been simply ‘Daddy.’ Her father had gotten a tough job when her mother, Katya, had been killed in the line of duty, and he’d been left with a teenage daughter to bring up by himself. Nadia, however, thought that her father had stepped up to the responsibility with exceeding skill. While most of his duties were put on hold when she was at Hogwarts, he still took care of his “sweet.”

“Nadia?” a voice rasped from behind her. She recognized it as Remus’ voice. “Are you awake?”

Blinking in a useless attempt to bring her eyes into focus, Nadia realized that she was sitting down. In fact, she was in an uncomfortably straight-backed chair with her hands tied behind her back and her legs bound to those of the front of the chair. “Un…” Nadia groaned, trying to put her jumbled thoughts into a coherent response. “Unfortunately,” she replied weakly. She leaned her head back, but bumped hers against someone else’s. “W-was…” The effort of talking was almost too much. “Was that your head?”

“Yeah,” was Remus’ strained answer. “We’re tied back-to-back.”

“d**n,” Nadia instinctively swore, wishing she could rub her head. Her lip felt sort of swollen, and she was sore all over. Trying not to bump her head against Remus’ again, she grasped what her reply could’ve been construed to mean and weakly added, “No offense.”

Laughing faintly, Remus shot back, “None taken.”

A very feeble smile crossed Nadia’s face. “Good. I’d have taken offense if there were. Might…” Pausing to take a shallow, aching breath, Nadia finished, “Might have had to come back there.”

They both laughed, that time. Laughter, Nadia knew all thanks to her late father, was the key to surviving torture, which was undoubtedly what they would be put through before long. Nadia was certain they would have to keep the witty, light banter going in order to keep alive…or, at least, keep what was left of their sanity about them.

“You and what army?” Remus retorted half-heartedly. She grinned, now. This sounded, surprisingly, rather like the man she’d come to know through long nights of unexciting stake-outs.

“My fists,” Nadia breathed jokingly, letting her head settle against her chest for a moment.

“Your what?” asked Remus, sounding as if he’d just been Stupefied.

“Fists.” Despite the fact that he couldn’t see her, Nadia raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What’d you think I said, Lupin?”

((Hehe, a little humor between our heroine and favorite werewolf. What could Remus have POSSIBLY thought she said?

Thoughts?))

[((Don't you just hate it when you're reading a book, the hero gets into big trouble...and it leaves the hero hanging, switching to some other character you couldn't possibly care about at that moment? ;D Well. I'm pulling that one here. Thought a little James and Sirius might be a nice change of pace.))]

((Don't you just hate it when you're reading a book, the hero gets into big trouble...and it leaves the hero hanging, switching to some other character you couldn't possibly care about at that moment?  ;D Well. I'm pulling that one here. Thought a little James and Sirius might be a nice change of pace.))

Sirius paid very little heed to Remus’ absence. He laughed to himself, wondering if ol’ Moony had finally run off with Nadia like James seemed to think Remus would do. “Nah,” Sirius chuckled aloud, shaking his head. Five months were left until Lily’s due date, and he very much doubted if Remus would so much as hold Nadia’s hand by then. Of course, Sirius knew he’d been wrong before…but to his thinking, those weren’t too many times, and he knew both of his good friends, especially Nadia.

Did he ever know Nadia! She adored torturing Remus. Hell, to Nadia, teasing Moony was a bloody sport that she’d been perfecting since her first year at Hogwarts. Sirius was simply a spectator, but he knew the game well and had sometimes served as a referee alongside Lily in their later school years. Shaking his head with a grin at the memories, Sirius tossed back the last of his milk and got up to put his glass in the sink. Maybe Remus had simply found himself a girl--other than Nadia, of course—and forgotten about coming home for two days. That was it, Sirius told himself.

“Have you seen Nadia?” James suddenly appeared in front of him, and Sirius just barely stopped before he collided with his best friend, who had a rather worried look on his face.

Sirius laughed, nonchalantly pushing past James and setting his glass down in the sink. “’course not, mate, she’s not my girl. Not anyone’s girl, last I recall.”

“Very funny,” James said, pulling a crumpled letter out of his pocket. “One of the guys from the all-mysterious Agency brought this to me.” After smoothing it out, he handed it to Sirius. “Read it and tell me what you think.”

With a yawn, Sirius took the piece of parchment from James and glanced over it. He gave it a second glance, and read:

Nadia,

Dumbledore just passed on word about a meeting at the Malfoys’ mansion. Eight o’clock. Same spots as Lestranges’ place, I assume?

Remus

Eyebrow raised, he held the letter up to the light. “What, was Nadia trying to forge ol’ Moony’s writing or something? If she was,” he added, pressing it back into James’ still-outstretched hand, “she did a crap job. Doesn’t look like Remus’ handwriting at all.”

Giving Sirius a grave look, James slowly slipped the letter back into the inside pocket of his robes. “Exactly.”

Out of the blue, Sirius began to recall Remus coming to tell him that he was leaving for another night of duty. “Wait…” Squinting as he brought the memory to mind, he continued, “Remus said Nadia sent a letter to him two nights ago, not the other way around. And don’t they use those silly codenames they picked out for each other at Le Masque when they write?”

“They do,” James answered, his eyes growing more fearful by the moment. “You haven’t heard from him since he left Saturday night, have you?”

Sirius shook his head, involuntarily shivering. Whenever Remus went out on duty with Nadia, he always made a prompt return in the early hours of the morning, about six or seven o’clock. Remus would walk past Sirius’ room, give a wave, and abruptly collapse onto his bed with little to no words passed between them at all. “And what about Nadia?” Sirius asked numbly.

“I don’t know, but we’d better find out just what exactly was going on here,” James said, “starting with Dumbledore. Let’s go.”

((Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it! Regardless of that, this is my present to you all. Thoughts?

PS-I don't think I've mentioned it, but my icon is Eva Green, the actress I think would play Nadia if she was a real HP character. Agree? Disagree? Already figured that one out? ;) ))

[((Well, of course, we can't end this chapter without a word from our dear werewolf friend...))]

((Well, of course, we can't end this chapter without a word from our dear werewolf friend...))
Jaw agape, Remus could not believe his eyes as Nadia collapsed at Lucius Malfoy’s feet inside the mansion. He wasn’t thinking when he yelled out, “Nadia!” in alarm.

All the heads in the dining room turned in the direction of his position, and he thought, Bugger. Voldemort was the first to grin. He let Bellatrix and Lucius disappear in two black swirls of smoke. They reappeared behind Remus.

Remus was completely unprepared, and on top of that, he had none of the skills Nadia possessed. He wouldn’t have lasted two seconds, nevermind the few minutes she had lasted in the hands of Death Eaters. Quick only on the draw of his wand, Remus faced fate and aimed his wand at Lucius Malfoy. He began to cast a spell at Malfoy, but Malfoy was quicker. “Expelliarmus!” The spell was so powerful that Remus was sent flying backward through the window.

Landing in glass shards, Remus moaned. Something wet rolled down his forehead, and he instantly closed his eyes, not wanting to think of what it could possibly be. He didn’t even try to pick himself up as Nadia might have done. “Well, well!” came Voldemort’s voice somewhere above him. “Miss Ramsden’s partner. Not at all as skilled as her, it seems.”

He opened one eye, and next to him Remus found Nadia’s unconscious form. Remus reached out for her hand to feel for her pulse, and found she was still alive. He wasn’t sure, however, whether life was a good thing or a bad thing at the moment. He’d been amazed by her courage, her sheer talents without her wand; he hadn’t been aware what a deadly weapon his partner was. Voldemort was talking again, but he didn’t hear any of it. He blacked out still holding Nadia’s hand, and surprisingly, he wasn’t mad at himself for touching her.

((I must apologize to Remus for throwing him through a window. Sorry, Moony. Thoughts, my readers?))

[((Hm...well...here's the action. Enjoy.))]

((Hm...well...here's the action. Enjoy.))
It was remarkable, Nadia mused as she carefully climbed the ivy fence that rested on the back wall of Malfoy Manor, how some families designed houses so similarly. Malfoy Manor was laid out exactly the same as the Lestrange place. The dining room, like the other house, was two stories in height. Even the windowsills were wide enough for one or two people to stand on comfortably. She sighed as she slipped into position and tapped her earpiece twice. “Lupin, do you copy?” Nadia mouthed; no response. One glance to her watch told her that she was twenty minutes early.

Sighing again, Nadia leaned against the outside frame of the window, glancing down into the dining room below. There was Lucius Malfoy, looking snobby as always with his silver snake-headed cane and black attire. Does he ever grow tired of looking like a woman? she wondered to herself with a smirk. Supposing not, Nadia closed her eyes for a moment, rubbing her forehead. Lupin’s letter still registered as peculiar in the danger-sensing part of her mind, but he would answer for it when he arrived. All would be well.

“Perhaps you will tell us now, Nikolai, where your daughter is,” said a cold, high-pitched voice in the dining room. Nadia’s earpiece picked it up immediately, and her eyes flew open.

Dad? she thought, turning her head ever-so-slightly to look in the window. Sure enough, there was her father, on his knees before Voldemort and a laughing crowd of unmasked Death Eaters. She put both hands, covered by James’ invisibility cloak, on the window and leaned in closer. From her vantage point, Nikolai Ramsden had been severely beaten. His clothes were in shreds.

Her father, the head of the secret agency she worked for at the Ministry, had been missing for a few days. Some of the senior agents thought nothing of it, attributing his absence to a lead he was following and had yet to report in on. In the back of her mind, Nadia had known better. Her father always reported in, no matter what he was doing. He usually called her off her assignments to join him, if he got in too deep.

As a response, her father spit at Voldemort’s feet. While some Death Eaters reached for their wands to rebuke the man for his bravery, Voldemort simply raised a hand and chuckled. “Yes, I see where her legendary temperament comes from. You have lasted long through torture. I can only hope that dear Nadia-” Here Voldemort paused for another cruel laugh. “-will last longer.”

Barring his teeth at the Dark Lord, Nikolai growled, “You’ll not lay a hand on my daughter!”

“Remus,” Nadia mouthed; static was her only answer. d**n him, where was he? He was the one who’d told her to be here! She looked at her watch; fifteen minutes were left until eight o’clock. Nadia tapped her earpiece five times, a signal of emergency. “Any Eastern seaboard agents based in U.K., please respond,” she begged silently. “Bravo leader in danger. Please respond.” The static on the other end of her earpiece seemed to be having a good laugh at her predicament.

Yet again, Voldemort was laughing. He slowly rose to his full height. “You disagree, Nikolai?” he genially inquired. With a nod to Bellatrix Lestrange, who suddenly disappeared, Voldemort looked right into Nadia’s father’s eyes. “We’ll see.”

With her eyes glued to the scene below her, Nadia was caught off-guard for the second time that day when Bellatrix reappeared right next to her in a puff of black smoke. She felt a hand jerk off the hood of the cloak, and heard the little laugh she’d always hated. “Well, well, look who I found!” Bellatrix giggled, viciously ramming Nadia’s head against the windowpane.

Nadia’s vision exploded in pain. She experienced the sensation of being pressed into thin air, and knew Bellatrix was Apparating back inside the mansion with her inattentive hide in tow. Bellatrix threw Nadia at Voldemort’s feet. Nadia wasn’t completely aware of what Bellatrix said to the Dark Lord; she was too busy trying to focus her sight.

“My sweet,” Nikolai rasped. Nadia reflected that had he, too, not been in the same situation, her father would’ve been scolding her for her lack of vigilance. She looked to her left, where her father’s voice had come from, and slowly crawled over to him. Resting her head on his shoulder as she used to do when she was a little girl, Nadia was vaguely conscious of the fact that her father’s hands were tied behind his back.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” she said, biting her lip to keep from howling in pain. “I got caught.”

He shushed her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “You did all I could ask for, sweet,” Nikolai whispered reassuringly.

“Touching,” Voldemort murmured. Nadia suddenly fell over; her father was snatched from her by Lucius, and Voldemort leaned down next to her. “However, dear Miss Ramsden, I do believe your father has outlived his use.”

Lips rearing back in a snarl, Nadia jumped to her feet. “Not if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

“Yes, I thought you might. Bella,” Voldemort said offhandedly over his shoulder. Bellatrix waved her wand before Nadia could so much as go for her own, and disarmed Nadia. Nadia fell on her back, but Voldemort picked her up by her collar, holding her, his chest against her back. He whispered into her ear, “You are mine, Miss Ramsden. Not even your precious father can save you now.” Laughing cruelly, he shoved her in Bellatrix’s direction. Bellatrix caught Nadia in a chokehold and held her there, making sure she was watching as Voldemort raised his wand at the crumpled form of her father.

Nadia, though still a little disoriented from Bellatrix shoving her head into the window, struggled with all she had against Bellatrix’s grip. The Death Eater only giggled, tightening her hold. “You aren’t escaping, sweet,” she hissed into Nadia’s ear.

Scowling, Nadia knocked her head against Bellatrix’s. The witch let Nadia go, shouting in surprise. The clock was chiming eight o’clock, and time practically came to a standstill as Voldemort waved his wand and said the words that Nadia had least wanted to hear. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted.

“No!” Nadia screamed, feeling as though she were sprinting underwater as she ran to throw off Voldemort’s aim. It was too late, however. Time sped up to its normal pace, and the green jet of light that issued from Voldemort’s wand charged toward her father.

Regardless, she dove for Voldemort, hoping to tackle him to the ground and beat him senseless. Lucius Malfoy roared, “Stupefy!”, and the red flash hit her right as her fists were inches short of making contact with Voldemort’s face. She hit the floor hard, and let out a groan.

Voldemort, clapping, came to a halt and looked down at her. “Very good, Miss Ramsden. Very good.” Two pairs of hands hauled her to her feet before him, and she was disgusted to feel one of Voldemort’s long, spindly fingers trace a path around her lips. “Such a performance. I daresay I enjoyed it almost as much as when first we met. Do you remember that night?”

“I’d hoped it to be our last time,” Nadia retorted, spitting blood out of her mouth. Without warning or giving it a second thought, using the hands on her arms as balance points, she did a backwards flip and spun into a roundhouse kick that sent Rodolphus Lestrange flying across the room. A simple punch to Lucius Malfoy’s nose took care of the long-haired snob.

“Why you little wh***!” screeched Bellatrix Lestrange as Nadia took a waiting stance before Voldemort. She flew at Nadia, wand in her hand.

Holding up a hand to stop his minion, Voldemort chided Bellatrix, “Now, now, Bella. You must understand, Miss Ramsden is quite angry at the moment.”

“So am I!” Bellatrix cried, restrained by her master’s arm. Nadia, whose lip was bleeding, smirked at the woman’s situation. “Let me kill her, Master! Please, let me kill her!”

“Oh no, my lord, allow me the pleasure of at least dueling with your little slave before I die,” Nadia shot back, glaring right back at Bellatrix Lestrange.

Clearly amused, Voldemort replied, “Perhaps later. Are you joining our side, then?” Nadia turned her murderous glare on the man, who seemed disappointed. “Very well. Lucius?”

The last thing Nadia felt was a violent blow to the back of her head, delivered by the head of Lucius’ walking stick.
((Oh wow. Thoughts, fair readers?))

[((Oh, beware my cliffhangers and action of doom and exposition...or maybe the characters should. Yeah.))]

((Oh, beware my cliffhangers and action of doom and exposition...or maybe the characters should. Yeah.))
Stake-out duty, so Remus came to learn, wasn’t restricted to Saturday nights. It actually took place at any place and on any night that the Death Eaters were meeting, and Nadia always seemed to know both. She would promptly alert Remus within a few hours of her receiving word on Death Eater gatherings, and sometimes she’d even send a short note by owl with a few instructions.

So it was that Remus Lupin came to begrudgingly enjoy Nadia’s company. Stake-out duty was a cold, cold undertaking, and it was sort of nice having someone to talk to…even if that someone was a woman that part of him still swore was from a deeper level of hell than Voldemort.

On this particular Saturday, an owl flew up and tapped at the kitchen window. Nadia never used the same owl, but Remus was pretty sure from the bird’s urgent manner that the owl had come from Miss Ramsden. He shuffled across the kitchen floor and opened the window. The owl glided in and dropped the letter on the kitchen counter next to Remus. It didn’t wait on him for a tip, instead hurrying back out into the fading light of the evening. Shrugging, Remus shut the window once more.

He picked up the letter and opened it, finding that it was indeed from his partner at the Order. The ink was slightly smudged, and her writing sloppy, but it was still Nadia’s writing. Remus found it a little odd that she wasn’t using the codenames they’d picked out for each other, but thought nothing of it.

Remus—

Malfoy Manor. Eight o’clock. Same positions as Lestrange mansion, be on time.

Nadia

Eyebrow raised, Remus read the note over a second time. “Be on time?” he reiterated aloud. What was she telling him that for? Of course he’d be on time! Was she, once again, trying to get on his nerves?

Of course she is, Remus decided silently, glancing over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. The clock was just striking seven thirty. Since when did Nadia send him instructions for a stake-out thirty minutes before the time she set in said instructions? Putting this out of his mind, he shuffled back to his bedroom to prepare for the coming night.
((The next part is much longer. Action-packed, one might say.))