December 5, 2011
Updated March 8, 2012

The idea for this story simply will not go away.

I originally posted this story in a very clipped writing style as Run Rabbit Run, but it received no reviews after 5-6 chapters. I never expect more than a few reviews for my writing, but I had attemped to write characters who think differently than I do. That version left them rather bare-bones and boring. I aim to improve my writing skills and expand my repertoire by exploring this scenario.

A middle-aged Dolohov is inspired by Arben Bajraktaraj's appearance and portrayal of the character in the movies. Hannah's character is largely a product of my imagination, as I do not find many charming or inspiring images of her in the films or in the books.

Canon compliant up to Deathly Hallows, except for backstory on Hannah that I took the liberty of creating. This a Gothic romance (horror) and I've subsequently decided to write the plot as an alchemical allegory. (March 2012)

I do intend to continue my major HP fic Salubrious Snape Oil.

Warning: Horror indicates revolting topics. Vulgarity ensues. Sexually explicit content will follow. This chapter contains some mild sexual content of a non-consensual nature.

Disclaimer: This is fan-written fiction.

Chapter One: Prologue

Tottenham Court Road
1st of August, 1997

Antonin Dolohov wrinkled his nose in disgust. His bushy mustache pressed against his nostrils, but he still smelled shit. Human shit. Scared shit.

He tried to turn his head away from the stench but his neck was held in place by magic, his head bolted in position.

He cursed in his mind. He was in a fucking full-body bind. A seasoned Death Eater never let down his guard. It was impossible.

He willed his muscles to move, but the most he achieved was a shudder that felt like claws ripping through his neck muscles. Damn it. He could not stomach the reek of feces any longer. It smelled of fear, adrenaline, fire whiskey and lust.

Dolohov strained against the manacles holding him immobile. He managed to tilt his head and he felt the warmth of rough fabric catching on the stubble of his chin. A bulge began to harden along his jaw. He tilted his face once more, trying to get a feel for what emanated the putrid excrement.

Then he heard Rowle's raspy voice mumbling, "Damn you, Bitch! Don't bind me up and then tease me. Take me in your mouth, Woman."

Dolohov realized his face was laying on Thorfin Rowle's crotch. He vomited up half-digested chicken curry pasta salad. It gushed from his throat and covered the blue jeans of the other Death Eater. Hot stabs seared inside Dolohov's neck as he strained to keep his nose above his regurgitated lunch.

Rowle screamed bloody murder at his imagined slut. Dolohov seethed, still unable to speak.

A glass door exploded, sending shards of glass flying across Dolohov's face, crisscrossing it with slices. Bellatrix Lestrange's voice shouted in her nasally whine, "Where's fucking Harry Potter?"

The body bind fell away from Dolohov and he stumbled to his feet. He wiped blood from his face with a plaid shirt sleeve and grimaced at the biting pain of each cut. He got his bearings and looked around at the metal counter and tables inside the Muggle delicatessen. A terrified Muggle woman was dragged by her ponytail and stumbled behind Rodolphus Lestrange.

Macnair had Rowle by the neck and turned to watch the groveling woman. He growled at her, "What did you see?" Getting no response, he kicked her knee and shouted, "Speak up!"

She clutched her leg and whimpered. "Nuh-nothing," she spluttered. "Just some kids. They tied me to the safe in the back room and tuh-told me to keep quiet until you come to rescue me."

From behind Dolohov, the voice of Yaxley chortled as he jabbed his wand into Dolohov's spine. "Rescue you?" he taunted. "So we've come to rescue her, have we, Boys?"

Bellatrix cackled. "Poor wittle Muggle. I'll save you from a pathetic excuse for being alive." She pointed her wand at the shop girl's confused face.

"Leave her," Dolohov croaked.

Yaxley twisted the wand against Dolohov's back. "What's this? Taking a fancy in girls half your age, is that it?"

Rabastan smirked and hiked up the girl's shirt. He plunged his hand into her blue lacy bra and squeezed until she screamed in pain. He flicked a silencing charm over her and winked at Dolohov. "She's pert. And she has a big mouth which could be put to much better use than screaming. You want to feel her?"

Dolohov spit. The white foam landed on the girl's forehead.

"Now, now," Rabastan chastised him. "Don't you know how to properly seduce a Muggle?" He gently wiped the spittle off her face with the sleeve of his cloak and lifted her up by her arms. Her legs trembled as he wrapped a hand across her bare stomach.

"Be a good girl and shut your pretty lips," he murmured as he lifted the silencing charm. Gently massaging her other breast, he coaxed, "Now tell us the truth and I won't hurt you. What really happened?"

A tear dripped down her face. "I told you already."

Rowle spoke up. "Just fuck her and kill her, Rab. She wasn't even here."

At this the deli girl sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Yes I was," she said with indignation. "Don't make me into a liar."

Rabastan purred into her ear, "No one's calling you a liar. Nice and slow. Just start from the beginning."

She jutted out her chin. "These two ugly blokes come up to the counter." She paused while the Death Eaters had their laugh at Dolohov and Rowle. " So I asks them what they want, and they tell me to leave 'em be. I saw 'em lookin' sideways at three kids that were dressed in some weird shit robes. They was just two guys and a girl, y'know, just drinking coffee, whispering and minding their own business. So I went to the back to wash some plates, when I hear a bunch of loud crashes an' shit. I saw some bright flashes of light and that big bloke went flying into the wall, with the scruffy guy next. Next thing I know, the chick makes some ropes fly out of her bad-ass stick and she tied me up and tol' me to be quiet until help comes."

"Traitors!" Bellatrix screeched. "You let Potter escape with his little Mudblood too."

MacNair snarled at Rowle, "You were bested by Potter and his schoolyard playmates? You're bloody idiots, the both of you! We left the Weasley wedding after you spotted him and let Dumbledore's followers get away because of you. And you call us here to show how you play house with your darling Antonin."

A whish of dark cloth spun in the room and settled into the form of Severus Snape. He lunged for Dolohov. "Where is he?"

"Last time I checked it was the duty of the Headmaster to account for students who have yet to matriculate," Dolohov answered with scorn.

Snape flicked his wand.

Dolohov felt his guts writhe like snakes. He gasped, "How dare you?"

The menacing wizard lifted the hex. "Let's do this one more time, shall we? The Dark Lord wants Potter. Where is he?"

Rowle choked words past Macnair's strangling hand. "He was never here. The bitch is lying. Fucking lay off my bloody throat, you old geezer."

Dolohov pitched a nervous glance at Rowle. The man had terror on his face as it turned purple and his eyes bugged out. Then Dolohov's attention was capture by the angry blonde Muggle.

"I didn't lie," she muttered.

Snape looked over at her. "What's with the bimbo?"

Rabastan smiled and said, "Just a little dessert." He shoved the girl toward the back of the store and called back with a smirk, "You all go on and leave. I'll clean up."

The moment was interrupted by Snape poking his wand in Dolohov's face. "The Dark Lord will require a thorough explanation of your failure. Tell me where Potter is and I will mediate leniency for you."

Dolohov sneered. "Rowle said it. Potter was never here."

Macnair groused, "He said the Name, and one of you idiots summoned us after you got a visual on Potter."

Rowle thrashed out of his captor's grip. "You fucking set us up. That's what's going on. You can't stand that you're from the old fucking regime and that our Lord wants us younger, healthier wizards to do his work." He made a dash for the door of the café. Bellatrix seized him and disapparated them both.

Yaxley cleared his throat. His wand was still pressing into Dolohov's spine. "Going to run, Little Rabbit?"

The remaining Death Eaters leered at Dolohov, and he glared back as he whispered, "He was never here. I swear to it."

The cold voice of Snape chilled the bones. "The Dark Lord will see through your lies."