A/N: This is a rewrite of chapter four.

He'd been turned around so many times he had no idea where he was, all the corridors looked the same. He'd been separated from the others some way back, and only hoped that they were having more success then he was. He rounded another corner, adrenalin propelling him forward.

He was completely unaware of the danger until something bowled into him, bringing him crashing down to the ground. And he went down hard, crying out in both pain and surprise as he hit the floor.

Before he could do more than lift his head, his arms were grabbed and pulled behind him, and he was yanked back and up onto his knees. Neville struggled to get free but whoever it was that'd caught him was more than a match for him; his attempts were in vain, and after several moments he gave up, sinking back down onto his haunches; his harsh, panting breaths the only noise in the corridor.

There was shouting from downstairs, and his gaze darted in that direction; there were footsteps on the stairs, and he was pulled to his feet, and shoved unceremoniously against a wall; there was the flick of a wand, and a door appeared to his left, he was pushed through it and it slid shut soundlessly behind him. Before the darkness took away his sight, he could just make out the wall in front of him, he was in the space between walls, and the man that had caught him was standing dangerously close behind him.

"Don't make a sound,"

He recognised the voice immediately, and it did nothing to sooth his nerves.

The guards were now in the hall, and Neville held his breath as they passed the spot where he was hidden. But they didn't stop, and within moments they were gone. Professor Snape, however, seemed less convinced, as he made no attempt to leave the confined space.

"And just what exactly am I going to do with you?" He asked quietly, and Neville shivered.

"You could let me go?"

A short, humourless laugh: "And one of the others will catch you, and you'll be right back in the dungeons; if that was your plan, I should have left you in the corridor."

Neville didn't answer straight away, but then clearing his throat he said: "You could help me,"

"I could," Snape muttered. "But I won't."

Great!

"They'll have caught the others by now, I should think."

"They might have got away," Neville ventured.

"Without the correct knowledge, Mr Longbottom, it's virtually impossible to leave Malfoy property without assistance. And vice versa, as Miss Granger and the indomitable Mr Weasley found out to their cost."

Snape turned to his right, and stalked off along the walk space: "Come along, Mr Longbottom."

And Neville had very little choice but to follow.

The hidden door beside the fireplace slid open and Draco instantly stood up, pulling out his wand; but it was Severus who stepped out into his bedroom, and Longbottom shortly after.

"Draco, good." Severus said, completely ignoring the fact that Draco currently had his wand trained on him. Draco looked from one to the other of them, and then tucking his wand back into his belt.

"What's he going here?" Draco asked, nodding in Longbottom's direction.

"Gryffindor's being Gryffindor's, Draco." Severus intoned. "Reckless and ill-thought-out actions, leading to absolutely nothing."

Draco noted with some little amusement the offended look on Longbottom's face; he also noted the dirt on his clothes and the bump on his forehead. And then looked away quickly. But Severus had seen him staring; Severus always saw him staring.

"I'll need you to keep an eye on him until I can work out what's going on here,"

"You can't do this," Longbottom suddenly exclaimed. "If you're right, then they've already caught Hermione, and Ron, and Harry." His voice grew by degrees until he was practically shouting. "We have to do something, I have to do something."

"Right, I see." Draco muttered to Severus, suddenly understanding in Longbottom's outburst, just how dangerous it would be to let him out of their sight; especially with the Dark Lord due to arrive at anytime. His recent thoughts of what he'd do if he ever had Longbottom in his bedroom, were far removed from this reality.

But then another thought occurred to Draco: "And what are you doing here?"

Severus stared at him blankly for a moment, and then said: "Your mother asked me to come; she thought with everything that's happening, it would be wise."

He could tell Severus was lying.

"I think I know what Eugene's up to," Draco said as he wondered back over to his desk and picked up the book he'd been reading before they'd interrupted him. He flicked through it until he reached the page relating to Rhaetic magic, and then handed it to Severus.

He'd read a lot about Rhaetic stones over the past many hours, and was now certain, beyond a shadow of doubt, that they were what Eugene had been researching so long.

"This type of magic hasn't been used since as far back as the Romans, pre-Roman even." Severus said after a time. "People have tried, of course, but no ones ever been able to work out the incantations."

"I think he's worked it out."

They both stared at each other in silence, and then Longbottom said: "What are you talking about?"

Severus gave him a fleeting look and then stalked across the room and pulled the door open: "I'm going to find Eugene; you should probably get back to the school - time's running out, Draco."

Draco really didn't need to be reminded of that fact.

The door closed and he was left alone with Longbottom: "Are you going to lock me in here?"

He suddenly felt very tired.

"I don't expect you to believe this, Longbottom, but this really is for your own good."

When Draco left the room, he locked and warded it behind him; and for good measure cast a quick silencing charm on the door.

He hadn't realised until right now, staring at the door in front of him, just how quickly everything was slipping away.

Neville wondered slowly around the room, fingers brushing over the everyday detritus on Malfoy's dresser: an assortment of coins, hair gel, a comb, framed photos with smiling faces; Malfoy with his parents, Malfoy in his quidditch robes, Malfoy by a pool somewhere, sun hat shielding his face; it all seemed so very real, so very domestic.

He turned away, absently picking up a book from the bedside table; flicking through it slowly, odd sentences jumped out at him: I must be the best that I can be. and: I must not disappointment my father.

Neville closed the book and put it back down on the bedside table, moving to the other side of the room. He wrapped his arms around himself, and tried not to think about Malfoy as anything other than the spoilt, arrogant Slytherin everyone knew he was. But as seemed to be the case more and more recently, he kept remembering the look on Malfoy's face back in the bathroom at the start of term; disjointed, distorted and broken, or the look in his eyes when he'd saved Neville from Eugene's assault.

He heard the wards on the door coming down, but it wasn't Malfoy returned from whatever nefarious acts he was committing at the school; it was Eugene.

Eugene stared at him in dumbfounded silence for a moment, and then he laughed, shaking his head: "Well, this is unexpected, but I should really have known there was something between you two,"

"What?"

But Eugene silenced him with a quick movement of his wand: "I was really looking for Draco, but I suppose you'll do, butterfly;" Eugene gave him a slow, predatory smile as he moved closer. "In fact, you're perfect."

Neville moved away from him.

"I was going to try this on Potter, but he's guarded round the clock now. We can't possibly have him escaping just before father arrives, what terrible timing that would be. And I really don't want all the time I've spent pretending to be the silly sop, to have been for nothing."

Eugene circled him.

"And then I thought, Draco; what better way to teach that little irritant, then to have him as my obedient slave. He is rather pretty too, isn't he?"

It was obvious that Eugene thought that he and Malfoy were dating, and Neville had no way to dissuade him of that idea.

"Come here,"

Neville didn't move, he knew there was no way out of the room, but he wasn't just going to give in; not that his resolve had helped him much the last time. Eugene punched him hard and he staggered backwards, holding his nose to stem the sudden spurt of blood: "That'll change soon, butterfly; if this works, you'll never disobey me again."

Eugene hit him with the body-bind curse next and that sent him falling helplessly onto the carpet. Neville felt the adrenalin rush into his veins.

"I realised a few days ago why others couldn't get this to work; I thought it was the incantation, after all who alive today knows how to speak ancient Rhaetic?" Eugene pulled out a knife, the same knife he'd used on Neville in the Gryffindor dorm, and Neville watched it glitter menacingly in Eugene's grasp. "But then I thought, maybe it wasn't the incantation, maybe it was the brand - everyone else seemed to use a similar spell to one father uses; tying one person to the will of the other. I think that's the problem."

Eugene straddled him, his weight resting on Neville's stomach, and he slowly began to open Neville's shirt: "This is really going to hurt, butterfly; but the more you bleed, the stronger the magic will be." He brought the tip of the knife to the flesh above Neville's left nipple, and slowly began to carve.

Neville screamed at the realisation of pain, but no sound left his lips; he couldn't move. He could feel his blood trickle down to the floor, sticky and hot; and Eugene paused in his work, took a small, black, polished stone from his pocket and placed it under the steady stream; immersing it in Neville's blood.

He smiled at Neville before once again turning his head to the task at hand, quietly muttering the alien incantation under his breath.