a warning for this chapter: mention of rape/sexual abuse

homo homini lupus

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Tom couldn't see much in the darkness, but he managed to make out Hermione raising her hand and pointing her wand directly to Potter's face, right before a bright light exploded from it, sending the other boy to the floor. He could hear Harry groaning as the girl approached him.

"Don't tell them your real name!" she whispered, right before the tent's entrance was opened and a pair of dark figures entered.

"Get up, vermin!" One of the men raised Potter's body from the floor while the other dragged him and Ron outside. There were about four or five robbed figures outside the tent and they were now trying to make the red haired boy and Hermione stop squirming in their grips.

"No! Leave him alone!" Hermione screamed at the same time Ron doubled over his waist after being hit in the face by one of the men.

"Your boyfriend is going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list," said a rasping voice. Tom raised his head, feeling the hands of the man who was holding him rummaging through his pockets, to see a big, horrifying-looking man holding Hermione in place. The boy felt a shiver run down his spine as he saw the vicious grim on the man's face as he pressed the girl against himself, his bearded face touching hers. "Delicious girl… What a treat… I do enjoy the softness of the skin…"

"Leave her alone!" shouted Riddle, but the only reaction he got was a smug laugh and a hard push that made him fall face first on the ground.

A few men were around Potter, who was being questioned about his face – which, Tom could now see, was all swollen and deformed -, while Ron lay on the ground with a wizard pointing his wand to his back. The big man had finally let go of Hermione and another one, a smaller wizard with weird clothes and long hair, was holding her in place now.

"What's your name?"

"Dudley," said Harry. "Vernon Dudley."

"Check the list, Scabior," said the big man before moving over to Weasley. "And what about you, Ginger?"

"Stan Shunpike."

"Like 'ell you are," said the man that had Hermione in his arms.
"We know Stan Shunpike, 'e's put a bit of work in our way." The big man punched Ron in the face.

"I'b Bardy!" said the red haired boy and Tom could see blood dripping from his mouth. "Bardy Weadley."

"A Weasley? So you're related to blood traitors even if you are not a Mudblood." The man – who, Riddle could see now, looked a lot like a mixture of a wolf and a man – approached him, his strong fingers holding his face in place. "What about you, pretty face?"

"Tom," he answered, swallowing hard in order to fight against the nausea that took over him as the man's smell reached his nose: blood and sweat.

"Well, I can't do much with only 'Tom', kid." The wizard's grip on his face got stronger and he yanked him closer.

"Greyback, easy," said Scabior as he tossed a little notebook to another man and occupied himself with playing with Hermione's hair.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to bite just yet. I just asked a simple question, pretty boy."

"Mazarovsky," the boy blurted out the first name that appeared in his mind. "Tom Mazarovsky."

"Blood Status?"

"Half-blood."

"Check it," ordered Scabior. "They all look like they could be still in 'Ogwarts…"

"We'b left," said Ron and Riddle mentally begged for him to stop talking right now.

"Left, 'ave you, Ginger?" said Scabior. "And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?"

"Nod a laugh. 'Aggident!"

"You know who likes to use the Dark Lord's name in vain? The Order of the Phoenix." The big man, Greyback, finally let go of Tom's face, walking over to Hermione. "Mean anything to you?"

"No," whispered the girl, lowering her head as the man let his hand caress her cheek.

"And what about your name, girly?"

"Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood."

"Check this one too!"

The men started to push them towards a few more people who were kneeling on the floor. Tom was forced to get down right before being tied back-to-back against the others.

"Anyone still got a wand?" asked Harry as soon as the last man walked away.

"No." Until now, Riddle hadn't realized how weak and exposed he felt without his wand, which had been taken from him right after they were pulled from the tent.

"This is all my fault…"

"Oh, please, spare us from your self-" Tom started to talk, only to be interrupted by a boy who was tied against Harry's back.

"Harry?"

"Dean?"

"It is you! If they find out who they've got-! They are Snatchers, they're only looking for truants to sell for gold…"

"Not a bad little haul for the night." Greyback was walking up and down the campsite while the others rummaged through the tent. "A Mudblood, a runaway goblin and four truants. Did you check their names?"

"Yes! No Vernon Dudley, Penelope Clearwater or Tom Mazarovsky here."

"Interesting," whispered Greyback, crouching in front of them. The man's smell once again made Riddle's stomach turn. "So you aren't wanted, hum? Any of you… Well, Vernon and Tom, tell me, what house were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin, both of us."

"They all think that's what we want to 'ear," huffed Greyback. "But they never know where the entrance to the common room is."

"In the dungeons. The common room is under the lake, it's all green," said Harry.

"You enter through the wall," Tom completed, not knowing for sure from where this piece of information had come from.

"Well, apparently we did catch two lil'Slytherins!" This time it was Scabior who spoke, laughing. "Good for you, boys. There aren't many Mudbloods in Slytherin, as you know… Who is your father, Vernon? And yours, Tom?"

"He works at the Ministry. Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," answered Harry, quickly. "And Tom's…"

"St. Mungus," said Riddle, lowering his head in order to avoid looking into Greyback's eyes. He had read about the magical hospital in Hermione's book and, in his opinion, it would be easier to pass by as the son of a healer than the son of someone inside the Minsitry.

"You know? I think there is a Dudley in this department. Now, I'm not sure about anyone named Mazarovsky in St. Mungus…"

"Hell, if my memory does not fail me," growled Greyback, grabbing Tom's chin and raising his head once again. "Your name does remind me of someone… You remember that bloody man from a few weeks ago? The half-blood bastard who ran away before we caught him?"

"Now that you say it, I think 'is name was Mazarovsky," whispered Scabior.

"You may not be a Mudblood, pretty boy," sneered Fenrir, approaching his face to the boy's. "But if you are related to the same Mazarovsky we know, you are in trouble. We do not like cowards."

Riddle stared at the other's face for a while, feeling his stomach turn with the thought that had just invaded his mind. He could hear Hermione's quickened breath next to him, just how he could hear his own heart beating against his chest's wall. These men were not Death Eaters, as that other boy, Dean, had said, but Snatchers… They did not have to obey the Dark Lord's orders as much as a Death Eater and that gave them a dangerous freedom. He did not want to think about what they would do to them as soon as they found out who they really were.

Swallowing down what he thought to be fear, Tom let a smile tug the corners of his lips. Greyback furrowed his brows and his grip on the boy's chin got stronger.

"And what do you like?" He was surprised by how he managed to speak that sentence. His voice was lower, his breathing seemed to slow down and it seemed as if he was just playing a part there, repeating his lines and doing something he had done before.

"You better stop playing around, Lil'Red Riding 'ood," growled Greyback and Tom had to work harder to maintain his calm now that the man pulled his face closer with his bone-breaking grip.

Riddle looked down to himself, laughing quietly as he saw that the coat Harry had lent him was red. He tossed his head to the side, a smile still lingering in his lips, before looking up to the man.

"What are you doing?" He heard Hermione whisper.

"I'm not playing around…" Tom saw the Greyback's eyes watch him from head to toes.

"What do you want, pretty face?"

"An exchange of favours," he replied and Fenrir's eyes seemed to glow with curiosity and, before he could do anything, the man grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet.

"Scabior, look after this lot," said Greyback, gripping Riddle's arm and pulling him away from the group. The boy looked back to the trio, who was staring at him with wide eyes – well, except Harry, thanks to the fact he couldn't open his eyes -, before turning his head to see where the other was leading him. He could hear Scabior cursing and saying something about them being 'doing a job here, for Merlin's sake!'.

Fenrir only stopped when there was a good distance between them and the rest of the group. As soon as he stopped walking, the man shoved Tom against a tree's trunk and gripped his face once again with one hand, turning it from side to side while his other hand slid through the skin of his neck.

"And what would a boy like you have to offer in an exchange of favours?" muttered Greyback.

"I think you know the answer."

"And you want me to let you go after that."

"And the others."

"Oh no, pretty boy." Fenrir chuckled. "You're asking too much now. You are a delicious creature, but I'm afraid I can't trade more than one of your friends for you."

"The girl, then," said Riddle, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"All right." Greyback pressed his body against Tom's, lowering his head in order to sniff the skin on the junction of his neck and shoulder. "When I saw your lot, I thought the girl was the best, the most delicious… Oh, you have no idea of the kind of things we find while working as Snatchers." The boy felt Fenrir's hand let go of his chin and drag itself across his chest and belly, his sharp nails almost cutting through his shirt. "But now, you see, I think you may be the best one. Not only pretty, but intelligent and… Eager…"

"I'm a Slytherin, aren't I?" whispered Riddle, shuddering as he felt Greyback's beard scrapping against his skin. 'What are you doing? What the hell are you doing?' he thought, shutting his eyes close when he felt the man's other hand on the curve of his back, pulling him closer.

"Yes, yes, a good lil' Slytherin." The boy felt his heartbeat quicken as Fenrir's hand found his belt and started fumbling with it. He took a deep breath, telling himself that this was the best option. This was better than being at the other's mercy, risking having someone finding out about them. Once it was over, he and Hermione would be able to go away. "It's been quite some time since I last saw a true Slytherin, like you…"

The hand that was on his back lowered itself, sliding over his behind and, then, over his tight. All the while, Greyback occupied himself with nuzzling his neck, worrying his skin with his beard. When the man raised his head and pressed his mouth – Tom had to stop his breathing for a moment. The wizard as a whole smelt like sweat and blood but his mouth, in particular, seemed to be unbearable – to the corner of Riddle's lips, the boy had to resist the urge of throwing his head back. He still didn't understand from where that idea had come from and how he was standing all of it.

"Such a pretty face," the man whispered and Tom felt a wave of nausea crawling up his throat. "Such a soft, pale skin." Greyback hummed, content, and, after finally managing to get rid of the boy's belt, put a hand under his shirt, digging his nails into his flesh, dragging them down until he reached the waistband of his trousers. "Red does look beautiful against a skin like yours…"

"Greyback!" Riddle couldn't restrain himself from sighing, relieved, when the older wizard raised his head, leaving a small space between their faces. Fenrir turned his head to look at whoever was calling him, narrowing his eyes. "You've gotta see wha' we 'ave found!"

Fenrir looked down at Tom for a while before grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the place where the other Snatchers were reunited. Riddle looked around. The trio was still on the floor and Hermione now looked at him with a worried expression on her face while Ron whispered something to her.

"Wha' the fuck do you want?" barked Greyback, his fingers still tight against the younger wizard's arm. "I was busy, you bloody bastard, and you know I do not like to be interrupted…!"

"You can fuck your boy later, Greyback," said Scabior, grinning. "But look at this first."

The smaller Snatcher raised his hands and Tom's breath finally gave away his worry when he saw that Scabior was holding the sword of Gryffindor.

"Ve-e-e-ery nice!" chimed Fenrir, finally letting go of Riddle in order to get the sword in his own hands. As soon as the man released him, another pair of hands held him in place. "Very nice indeed. Looks goblin-made. Where did you get something like this?"

"It's my father's!" shouted Harry. "We borrowed it to cut firewood!"

Tom wondered if the wizard would ever believe that they were cutting firewood with a goblin-made sword, but before reaching a conclusion, Scabior, who was fumbling with other objects he had found in the tent, showed them a newspaper. The Snatcher started to read it, pointing at a photograph on its front page, and Riddle frowned as he noticed it was a photo of Hermione.

"You know what, little girly?" asked Greyback, walking up to her. "This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It's not me! It's not me!"

"'Known to have been travelling with Harry Potter,'" whispered Greyback, repeating what the newspaper said. "Well, this changes things, doesn't it? What's with your forehead, Vernon?"

Tom looked down at Harry, who was grimacing as if he was in pain. In his forehead, the faint form of his lightening bolt-shaped scar was starting to show again.

"Do not touch it!"

"I thought you were glasses, Potter."

"I found glasses!" screamed another Snatcher and, in a few seconds, they rammed the pair of broken glasses the wizard had handed them into Potter's face.

"It is! We've caught Harry Potter!" rejoiced Fenrir, laughing out loud.

While the Snatchers decided what to do, Tom looked at the trio once again. Harry still seemed to be in pain, Ron looked at his friend with a worried look while Hermione trembled as she stared at the older wizards.

"And the rest of them?"

"We take them with us. We've got two Mudbloods, that's another ten Galleons. And the blood traitor Weasley. Give me the sword as well. If they're rubies that's another small fortune right here. Grab hold and make it tight! I'll do Potter and the pretty boy."

Fenrir grasped his arm again, pulling him towards Harry, and grabbed a fistful of dark hair from Potter's head. Meanwhile, the other Snatchers got a hold on the rest of the prisoners, Disapparating with them.

"You see, kid, giving the circumstances I can't give you all you asked for in our bargain," rasped Greyback, throwing an arm around Tom's neck and pulling him closer to himself, his hand gripping his shirt tightly. "But I'm sure the Dark Lord will allow me to keep you in order to finish what we've started. I'll hand him Harry Potter and he'll hand me a unimportant, but extremely beautiful, half-blood."

And, saying that, the wizard spun around and the forest disappeared around them.

Bellatrix Lestrange was a mad woman, Tom had decided it the moment he saw her for the first time. Although the witch kept acting weirdly, moving from side to side with extravagant movements and talking with a high pitched voice and sometimes letting out a crazy laugh, her eyes were the ones to tell him about her madness. There was something in them that screamed madness, he saw it when she approached him and watched him closely for a few minutes after Scabior told her about their suspicion about his 'father'.

"I've never heard of this man. It sounds weird, where is your name from, Mudblood?" Bellatrix did not like Half-Bloods, Tom also discovered that. And, in reply, he told her that his name was Russian. It was not a lie, after all, and that was going to help him, right? The chances of her knowing a British family were way bigger than of her knowing a Russian one. Well, that was what he thought before the woman turned to look at that feeble teenager that kept staring at them the whole time, and said: "Draco, find Dolohov and bring him here. Tell him I have one of his in here."

And now he was waiting for the said Dolohov to arrive. In a basement. Listening while that madwoman tortured Hermione. He was trying to keep calm, he really was, but how could he not get nervous and scared while he heard the screams – from both Hermione and Bellatrix – on the floor above them? Or while he heard Ron shouting and cursing as he tried to break free from the cell in which they had been imprisoned? Harry was calmer than him and Riddle couldn't still believe in that. Potter was busy talking to the other people who had been put in that place with them – the Dean boy, a goblin, an older wizard and another girl – while he kept walking up and down the cell, feeling his hands sweating and his heart beating faster and faster as the minutes passed, listening to the screams from above. They were almost comforting, as he did not want to think about what could have happened in case Hermione stopped screaming.

"And here we are again." Tom's head snapped up as he heard a familiar voice. Fenrir Greyback was standing by the cell's door, grinning. Behind him, a smaller, mousy man watched everyone with his little dark eyes. The larger man opened the door and, although Weasley tried to put up a fight by jumping on him, he simply shoved the red haired boy back and that was enough to make him fall to the floor. "You come with me, pretty boy."

Fenrir pushed Tom out of the cell, leading him up the stairs and through the manor's corridors. The place was huge and richly decorated, but it seemed like a long time had passed since the last time someone took good care of it.

"Dolohov is a git that don't think his precious feet can touch the floor of a dungeon," said Greyback when they finally reached what seemed to be an office. It was a cosy room, with a huge fireplace, big windows with their curtains closed and bookshelves filled with books. There were a few paintings on the walls, too. The largest one, above the fireplace, was empty now – Hermione had told him that people in pictures could walk out anytime they wanted, so it didn't really surprise him to see the empty frame -, and the others didn't move at all, most of them were paintings of beaches and ships. "And he doesn't want to question you in front of Madam Lestrange… Can't blame 'im on that one, she would keep interrupting all the time. And we don't want this to take long, right? Especially after Madam Lestrange allowed me to have you as soon as Dolohov finish talking to you." Riddle felt a shiver running down his spine as Fenrir's hand cupped the back of his neck. "You may be travelling with Potter's Mudblood and, possibly, Potter himself, but you are no one. Well, no one aside from a Half-blood running away from the Ministry. It doesn't matter if your father is the traitor we're looking for or not, you'll be punished anyway." Greyback chuckled raising a hand to caress Tom's cheek. The boy clenched his jaw and kept looking into the other's eyes. "But don't worry… If you're not related to our deserter, I'll go easy on you."

"Out."

Tom let a relieved breath escape from his lips as Fenrir took a step back and turned to look to the newly arrived visitor. Greyback bowed his head in a quick reverence before leaving.

"Aside from being caught by Snatchers, you've got Fenrir Greyback interested in you. What a lucky boy you are." The man laughed, quietly, as he approached the fire. Once the firelight illuminated his features, Riddle furrowed his brows. He knew that man; his face was not strange to him. He recognized that serious face and, now that he stopped to think, the wizard's voice and its accent were also familiar. "They said you're a Mazarovsky… We're looking for a family with that name, you know? Healer Fyodor Mazarovsky disappeared a few months ago, we believe he left for Russia with his wife and children." The man, Dolohov, turned to look at the fire. "And now that I think about the family, I recall that his kids were called Alexei and Thomas."

Tom gulped. Of all the surnames he could choose, he chose the one of the family's members was his namesake. Dolohov was right, he was a lucky person.

"Thomas Fyodorovich Mazarovsky." The Death Eater turned to him once again. His face now had a manic smile on it. "Care to come into the light for me to take a look at you? Davay, mal'tchik, davay."

Riddle walked up to the other, already trying to think about what he was going to say. Dolohov truly thought he was a Mazarovsky… But it didn't matter, right? As soon as this Death Eater finished talking to him, he would be handed to Fenrir and God knew what would happen to him.

The boy waited for the older wizard to say something, looking down at his own feet, but, after a few minutes of complete silence, Tom furrowed his brows and looked up only to find Dolohov staring at him with a perplexed expression on his face. During the few times Riddle tried to look into Ron's mind, he noticed that this invasion worked better when the person was distracted… And now, looking at Dolohov, Tom knew he would be able to enter his thoughts without facing any resistance. He had no idea of what to look for in his mind but he was desperate and, maybe, the Death Eater knew a way for them to escape from that place, who knew?

The first thing he saw as he broke through the thin barrier that kept Dolohov's mind was a younger version of the said man. He was standing inside what looked like a small apartment, sitting on a settee with a glass filled with a clear liquid in his hand. In front of him there was another person, a man wearing heavy clothes and a hat. It took a moment but eventually Riddle recognized the other man. It was him. A bit older and looking like as if he was freezing but, yes, it was himself. Dolohov knew him from before he became what Voldemort was nowadays, that was why he recognized his face… Or no, because the Riddle in the man's head was older, there was no way for him to know Dolohov yet, not when he was twenty years old. Then why did he remember his face so well?

He didn't have much time to ponder about the subject as he felt someone pushing his magic away and, when his sight cleared, Tom saw Dolohov's face once again. The older Dolohov, the Death Eater, not the man from the apartment with the glass of vodka in his hand. The man still looked at him with widened eyes for a while before dropping to his knees in some kind of exaggerated reverence.

"My lord," he whispered and all Riddle could do was to stare at the knelt down in front of him. "If you allow me to ask… How…?"

"I'm not…" the boy started to talk but, instead of going on, stopped talking for a moment and managed to grimace down to the other. "I'm not sure this concerns you, Dolohov."

"Of course not, my lord, forgive me." A tiny smile appeared on Tom's lips as he noticed how convenient it was to have someone acting like that towards him. He could ask for anything and Dolohov would do without hesitating.

"Get up." The man did as he was told.

"My lord, you are not… You are not the same person as…"

"No, I'm not," whispered Riddle, trying to keep his voice in a cool tone, similar to how he spoke to Greyback back in the forest. "And, at the same time, I am. The difference is that the man you now call 'master' is a degenerated version of me. He's old, Dolohov, his brains are rotting and he's being led by instinct only. Do you remember me being like that before? When we first met?"

"No, my lord. I can say I had never met anyone more logical until I met you in Moscow…"

"And is he logical?" Tom saw the man flinch. "Or is he impulsive? I bet his impulsiveness gets in the way…" The younger wizard raised his hand, resting it on the Death Eater's shoulder.

"He'll like to know you are here. Your logic… Your intelligence is needed, my lord."

"Oh, no, he won't like it one bit." Riddle shook his head, smiling to the man at the same time as he caught the glimpse of a movement on the picture above the fireplace. Its inhabitant was back, he needed to be careful now. "He's too mad by now. He'll think I'm a threat, my friend. That's why I need your help. I need you to show me how I can leave this manor."

"I… I can't," Dolohov whispered, looking down. "I'm sorry, milord, but if he finds out, he'll kill me." The wizard took a step back, pulling his wand from his pocket and pointing it at Tom. "We're all too deep into his – your – madness now… We can't escape." The man walked away from him, going in the door's direction. "The Dark Lord has no mercy."

"And what'll you do now? Hand me in to your master, who'll kill me, or to Greyback, who already has pretty nasty plans regarding me?" asked Tom, feeling his stomach clench once again. He was getting relaxed, seeing how the man was so eager to obey him, but now all the worry he was feeling earlier came back to his mind. "You vowed your loyalty to me!"

"My loyalty now belongs to the Dark Lord!"

"And I am the Dark Lord!" Riddle shouted and, as soon as the sentence left his lips, felt slightly uncomfortable with how it sounded. "I am the reason he exists nowadays! It was I who created him!"

"You are not the Dark Lord," muttered Dolohov, breathing heavily, his hand already on the doorknob. "You are Tom. I remember you. I remember about all we talked back then and I know the Dark Lord would never act like that towards someone. He may have been you, once, but you, as you are now, are not him. I don't know what happened to make you turn into him but… You're not the Dark Lord to which my loyalty belongs."

Tom watched as the wizard looked at him one last time before turning to the door again. It was then that something inside his head clicked. Some kind of memory that came from the same place from which Dolohov's name and face had come.

"What would Tatiana say if she saw you turning your back to someone you had sworn to be loyal to?" Dolohov stopped in his action of opening the door as if something had hit him. Tom had a vague memory of who this 'Tatiana' was… A relative, a sister, who he loved dearly. He had no idea of how he knew about this detail of the man's life, but he knew and he would use that in his favour. "You said you would be loyal to her, even after her death. She believed in your loyalty… Then you said you would be loyal to me, the same way you promised it to her, and now you're saying you are going to hand me to someone who'll kill or hurt me?"

The first thing he noticed was the blow on the side of his face. It stung and he was pretty sure he was going to loose another tooth and his conscience with it when he hit the floor. Then he saw Dolohov, looming over him, crying. At first the boy thought it was a trick of light, but then, after staring at the man for quite some time, he was sure that the shiny trails on his twisted face were tears.

"I don't care who you are," the wizard growled, pointing his wand at the boy's face. "You do not talk about Tanya." Dolohov sobbed before letting a humourless laugh escape from his mouth. "Unfortunately you're right… Tanya did rely on my loyalty." The man approached him and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to his feet. "What do you need, my lord?"

A/N: So, it took me quite some time for this one, sorry, but it's one of the chapters I enjoyed the most writing. There are a few things that are pure headcanons: the Mazarovskys (as I said, are from my other fic, Kolybel'naya: in that story, Alexei Mazarovsky is a doctor in Tom's orphanage and he married one of the girls who worked there, Martha, and they have a kid named Fyodor, who will happen to be a wizard and who'll happen to have his own kids and name them after his father and after a boy about whom their mother would be always talking about) and the Dolohovs (Tatiana is a character created by both Vika/Highonbooks and I). Another thing: Tom's little scheme with Fenrir... Well... The books leave it to the readers' imagination about what the hell Tom could have done to gain power and, well, that chapter with Hepzibah Smith made me think he wouldn't stop at nice, flattery words. To everyone who reviewed until now thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, reviews are always welcome (: