NATALIA [Draco Malfoy Fanfiction]

Twenty-Three | My Reflection

My consciousness stirs; briefly.

"Natalia."

"Sirius?" I murmured, my eyes fluttering to make out a figure standing over me.

"You have to get up, Nat."

There were other voices, I could hear them, but I could also tell that they were further away.

"Mhmgghh." It barely registers that I've made a noise, but I feel the sound resonating in the back of my throat, so I know I've spoken.

"Natalia!"

I never do figure out who it was that I was talking to, as I fade out for good this time, only waking sometime later to find myself wrapped in linen sheets. I felt myself frown as I notice the rather comfortable bedding, the muscles in my face straining, causing the movement to hurt. "Hello?" I croaked, glancing around to try and figure out where I was while I ran my hand along the duvet and studied the room I woke up in.

Where was I?

A jumbled string of events came to mind, which has me reaching out to hold my head, a sharp pain now searing the front of my scull. It cuts like a knife as I remember the last 24 hours, or at least, what I thought had been 24 hours. In reality, I had no idea how long I had been out for.

I let my feet touch the slightly worn-in hardwood floors, nothing about this place giving me any indication that I was still in Malfoy manor as my eyes land on the large window that looked out onto a foreign body of water. I see hints of an old town that I don't recognize, one with cobblestone roads that seemed to blend into the buildings that stood on either side.

I begin to stand, hoping to try and make it out onto the balcony that seemed to give a good view, but the world starts to spin the second I try to put weight on my feet.

By the time I'm crawling back to bed, the world is already fading around me, and I'm out for another period of time.

The next day or so seems to pass like a fog, a series of hazy and untraceable events strung together only to let me know that I was still alive.

"What's going on?" I murmured quietly, to myself, when it finally registers that I had managed to escape the dark lord.

"You're safe. That's all that matters," my shadow responds—who had been the one to remind me that Sirius wasn't here; that I had been tortured, and was now very weak. My shadow has a deep voice, and sometimes wakes me up to feed me, to get me to drink odd potions that glow odd colours, to murmur enchantments that make my head feel a little better. My shadow sounds angry a lot of the time, but is gentle when he touches me, and sometimes I swear I hear those words on his lips in a voice so quiet I assume it's a dream.

A delusion.

By hour 72, I'm able to sit up to watch my shadow return from the outside world.

"Draco."

He seems startled when I speak, reaching me in a few long strides to get a closer look. "Natalia, you're... awake."

"You saved me."

He pretended to busy himself by checking my vitals rather than addressing the statement, giving a stiff nod to simply acknowledge the fact that he heard me. "Your pulse is still weak, and my magic can only do so much in terms of healing."

I watch him tentatively shift to sit on the edge of the bed; "how are you feeling?" He adds after a moment of silence.

"Weak," I answer honestly, "and... achy. Like I've been up for days."