He found Draco walking the 4th floor corridor, looking decidedly agitated – even more so when he noted Severus' presence; he turned as if to walk in the opposite direction and then, seeming to think better of it, waited for Severus to approach.

"Draco, I've been meaning to talk with you,"

"Yes, Professor…?"

Draco made no attempt to hide his displeasure at being interrupted. He looked almost too gaunt as he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders, and it seemed to Severus in that instant that this was not the same boy who had once exuded such good health and promise – this boy was a shade.

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your attention that certain students have gone missing," his words turned to vapour the moment they left his mouth, and a cold breeze ruffled the hair at his neck.

"I don't know anything about that," Draco replied, suddenly preoccupied by something outside the window just beyond Severus' right shoulder.

"I think you do."

Draco's gaze came back to his; there was a defiant set to his jaw which Severus recognised all too well – it meant, I don't want to have this conversation.

Severus however, was persistent.

"I want to know what's going on."

Draco hesitated a moment longer and than said:

"I did try to warn Longbottom, but he wouldn't listen,"

"Go on," Severus prompted, ignoring for the moment the improbability of Draco's words.

"The moment Eugene found out he knew something, Longbottom was in trouble. Eugene couldn't take the chance he'd talk. Of course, I couldn't take that chance either."

Severus frowned. "And who exactly is Eugene?"

"I don't know, exactly." Draco paused, as if reluctant to betray confidences. "They say that you don't want to cross him though, that he's dangerous."

Severus knew without asking that 'they' were the many neophytes new to the Dark Lord's cause – gossip was always ripe among the lower ranks; how much of it was true however, remained to be seen.

"They say that he made Rogiers disappear."

"And, I suppose, he's now made Longbottom disappear?"

"Yes."

Draco's gaze once again drifted to the star-studded sky and he restlessly shifted weight from his right to his left foot.

"And Potter…?" Severus once again prompted.

They were silent for a short time and then Draco said:

"I'm not sure where he is, I lost track after Eugene replaced him."

Severus heard the lie in Draco's voice but decide now was not the time to force the matter. He found himself wandering again just who exactly this mysterious Eugene was.

"And Weasley and Granger…?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you." Draco replied, finally losing all patience with the conversation. "All I know for sure is that I've been told to watch Eugene, so that's what I'm doing. Now, I have things I have to do, Professor, so if you don't mind."

Severus didn't attempt to stop him.

He once again called out but, like the other many times, only his voice echoed back to him. He turned away from the bars, and paced the small area for what must have been the hundredth time. The cell was only big enough for him to walk five steps before reaching the cot bed, and it was cold.

Neville perched on the edge of the bed and stared absently at the walkway just beyond the bars. Water dripped in one of the corners, an insistent tapping that quickly bothered him.

The bruise above his left eye throbbed.

A sudden breeze caused him to stand up; the torch-flame flickered ominously and almost went out; his gaze once again searched the small space but there was nothing other than stone walls and steel bars. He moved to stand with his back to the wall furthest from the entrance. Footsteps grew louder, and then began to move away, in the opposite direction to where he was being held.

He let out the breath he'd been holding, not sure if he should be pleased or not.

He heard metal bang on metal, a sudden clang that made him jump – it happened twice more and then there was silence. Even though he preferred to stay with his back firmly against the wall, he stepped over to the bars. As he leaned into them, his face turned to see what was happening, he heard the murmur – softly spoken words that seemed to hold nothing but malice.

There was no response other than the movement of chain and a moan.

He pressed further against the bars, trying to catch a glimpse of who was talking but could only see damp walls. Frustrated, and more than just a little scared, he moved away, returning to the secure feel of stone against his back. At least now he knew he wasn't alone in this dismal place.

Something scuttled by his foot and he jerked away. The rat darted back into the gloom, scurried along the base of the wall and out the bars. Neville watched its progress with something akin to dread; his gaze followed it down the corridor, watching as it stopped to sniff at a pool of water, a black leather shoe.

He watched as the person stepped into the little light from the single torch.

It was Harry.

But not Harry…

Harry stared at him and he stared back, unsure of what to do. After a short moment he asked, albeit reluctant:

"Who are you?"

The other boy looked at him once more, as if considering whether to answer or not. He shrugged.

"Well, I don't suppose it matters now. You can call me Eugene."

He smiled; a predatory gleam to those familiar green eyes.

There was noise from upstairs, raised voices, and he turned, his attention drawn instantly away from Neville.

"I'll be seeing you, butterfly." He muttered before disappearing back into the shadows.

It was days before Neville saw anyone else.

There was shouting and the sound of many feet. He sat up quickly. There was sobbing and a harsh word. He stood up and moved toward the bars. It was just as he reached them that the new arrivals came into sight. Ron and Hermione. He gasped and Hermione spun round to stare at him; she looked a mess, her hair matted and wet, her face and clothes spattered with mud – there was a nasty cut on the side of her lip.

"My god, Neville; you're alive."

"Hermione, what…?"

But before he could finish his question they were both shoved passed, one of the men practically carrying Ron, who Neville could now see looked a lot worse for ware; there was a blood trail from a wound on his head, and his foot dragged along the floor uselessly beside him.

They were put into separate cells and the doors secured. The men turned and left, giving him no more than a sideways glance.

He rushed to the bars and leaned out as far as possible.

"Hermione, are you okay? What happened?"

"They threw him down the stairs, Neville," she choked. "Ron?"

There was no answer.

Neville stepped back, desperate to do something but knowing he couldn't. Sudden light flooded the area and he covered his eyes from the glare, stepping back and away; trying to find the shadows. As his eyes became accustomed it was Draco Malfoy who swam into vision. Neville blinked back the tears, automatically wiping his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve.

"Malfoy…?" It was Hermione. "I knew you were involved."

"Of course you did, Granger; after all I'm the secret mastermind behind every dastardly plot, am I not?"

Neville continued to stare at him; he really didn't look well.

"I think Ron has a concussion," Neville ventured. "He's losing blood and his leg might be broken."

"And you're telling me, why?" Malfoy actually sounded angry. "Is it my fault that these two imbeciles decided to go on some kind of rescue mission and then got caught?"

"We were trying to find Harry…" Hermione sounded tired, but not defeated.

"Well, you've found him." It wasn't Malfoy who spoke this time, it was Eugene – Neville stepped back a little further.

"You're not Harry." She growled.

"What are you going to do about Ron?" Neville asked, bringing the attention once again back to him.

Malfoy huffed and turned away, summoning a house elf.

"Why bother, they're all going to die anyway?" Eugene muttered, not quailing under Malfoy's cold glare.

"Not in my house."

Neville gasped again and Malfoy briefly looked at him before walking away and back up the stairs.

"Malfoy's can be such sensitive creatures." Eugene said with a small hollow laugh. "I wish I could stay and talk but with a dungeon full of Gryffindor's I think I have some explaining to do."

"You can't just leave us here." Hermione shouted, indignantly.

"Yes, I can."

The light went out so quickly they were plunged into darkness, the only sound now coming from the elf who worked on Ron's wounds. Neville went back to the cot bed and sat down; resting his head in his hands, he waited along with Hermione. It wasn't long before Ron regained consciousness.

"Hermione, where are you?"

"I'm here, Ron; and Neville's here too," she sounded calmer now, the slight hysterical tinge gone from her voice. "We're in the Malfoy dungeons."

"Oh, great!"

He arrived at the Manor to the sound of Narcissa arguing with someone in the lounge and, deciding it best he wasn't seen, took the stairs up to her private rooms. It was dark and he made it his first order of business to re-light the fire. Then, with nothing better to do, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

It was almost an hour before she joined him and by then he was close to sleep. She moved up along the bed and snuggled down beside him.

"Trouble?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe me, Severus." She ran a finger lightly over his chest in a small circular motion; distracted. He knew that she missed having Lucius around to take care of undesirable business; and if truth be told, Severus missed him too. Their night-time hours weren't the same without Lucius' meticulous attentions. Azkaban was no place for one such as him.

He opened his eyes and she kissed him, moving to lie across him. He deepened the kiss, grabbing her hair in his fist and pulling her closer; she moaned but didn't protest. After a time, which seemed too short to him, she pulled away, brushing her hair back over her right shoulder.

"It's Eugene!" She stated angrily. "He's treating this house as if he owns it!"

"He's here?" Severus asked, all thought of sex instantly leaving him.

"Yes and he has people in the dungeon…"

She looked miserable as she leaned in to kiss him again. He allowed it, letting her tongue trail along his jaw and suck at his neck. His hand absently caressed her breast, pinched a slightly protruding nipple and then, feeling nothing, he sighed and gently pushed her away.

"What is it?" she asked, her stare questioning.

He gave no reply as he strode across the room and out into the corridor, ignoring her angry expletive – he'd make it up to her but now he intended to find this Eugene. The house was silent, all the torches burning low and he stepped quietly; the last thing he wanted this evening was to bump into Draco.

He was well aware where the dungeons were; he and Lucius had spent much time down there during the early stages of the first reign, 'talking' with certain unlucky individuals. It seemed now as if young master Malfoy was following in his fathers footsteps. The entrance hall was empty, moonlight from the tall windows making the shadows seem darker.

The dining room was also empty, the glint of silver on the permanently set table only briefly catching his eye. He moved through the lounge and entered the study through the south door, the sight of the bare desk making him pause – a stark reminder that Lucius was no longer there. He turned and noting the pulled back carpet and dark entry, knew that he had been correct in his estimation.

Taking a lamp from a nearby end-table he began to descend the stone steps, careful not to draw attention. There was the sound of a struggle below, a struggle interspersed with brief cries of no and stop; and he reached the bottom just in time to see Potter (but who he knew was Eugene) shove Longbottom backward on to the bed.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" a voice that sounded very much like Granger's shouted from a cell a little further along. She was ignored. Eugene grabbed Longbottom by the hair and pulled his head back, moving to first straddle and then lay upon the other boy; he leaned forward and licked along one cheek.

More footsteps from above caused Severus to step back into the shadows.

Draco appeared, his cheeks flushed.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, incredulous.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Eugene replied, not turning away from the struggling boy beneath him. He caught Longbottom's arms and forced them up over his head.

"No," Longbottom gasped. "Let me go!"

Draco stood, his face impassive, watching for only a moment before making his decision.

"Leave him alone, Eugene."

Now he was ignored, as Eugene reached down to tug at Longbottom's belt buckle. Draco stepped forward, grabbed Eugene by the back of his shirt and heaved him away.

"I said, leave him alone."

"What do you care?" Eugene shouted angrily.

"Not in my house." Draco shouted back, equally as angry.

Draco turned away. Eugene glared at Longbottom for a long minute, and then followed Draco up the stairs. The torchlight flickered and went out.

"Neville, are you…okay?" Granger asked, her voice catching a little.

"Yes, I'm fine." Longbottom replied, his voice quivering only slightly as he held back a sob.

Severus had seen enough.

He now knew what manner of boy Eugene was – one that took what he wanted, and didn't pause to ask questions (least of all on morality). He once again took to the stairs, careful to ensure that the two boys were no longer in the vicinity before emerging from the dungeon access.

Within minutes he was back in the safe confines of Narcissa's chambers, back in her warm embrace. Giving into her determined kisses, he turned his thoughts away from the dungeon. He'd decide what action to take, but not this evening; this evening was already spoken for.

Draco glanced from left to right before pushing open the door and entering the room. It was dark but he could see the desk ahead in the light from his wand, leather bound books piled precariously one on top of the other. To his right was the bed, Eugene's clothes scattered haphazardly on the floor.

Cautious not to disturb anything he edged forward; removing the candle from his pocket he lit it and placed it on the only empty space available on the desk. He knew that Eugene wouldn't be back for the rest of the evening (not after their argument); plenty of time for Draco to find out exactly what he needed to know.