Draco was angry, he was angry with Longbottom for being an idiot, and angry with Severus for being a philanderer and angry with Eugene for being a prick, but right now, most of all, he was angry with the Dark Lord for forcing him into his current situation and threatening the lives of him and his parents.

He was standing in the room of requirements, in front of the once broken cabinet with the Hand of Glory firmly in his grasp.

"You did it then?" Draco turned around slowly to face Eugene, but didn't deign to answer. He closed the cabinet and stepped away, the weight in his heart making him feel physically heavy. "It's not long now before you have to prove your loyalty, do you think you can do it, Draco? I don't."

"I don't much care what you think, Eugene."

Eugene smiled, "I know what you do care about though," and he pulled a small polished stone from his pocket, a symbol Draco didn't recognise etching deeply into it. "Do you know what this is?"

"I'm going to presume it's a Rhaetic stone,"

"Clever boy, Draco."

Draco felt his anger boil just beneath the surface.

"Are you planning on using it on me?"

"I was," Eugene replied calmly. "But then I found someone better to try it out on." Eugene's malicious smile transformed his face. "Your boyfriend is quite the fantastic little cock sucker, Draco - I can completely understand why you have him around."

At first Draco's mind threw up a blank, but then it dawned on him that Eugene meant Longbottom; he'd gone looking for Draco in his room and found the other boy instead. His burning anger turned instantly to cold dread. Before Draco could think of a suitable retort, Eugene continued:

"Can you imagine what we can do with this kind of magic, Draco?" Eugene's gaze bore into his, the manic stare making Draco feel less then happy about his current predicament. "Instant, and complete obedience. I mean, just look at what my father has to put up with at the moment; using fear to keep control of his 'loyal' followers." At the word loyal Eugene used his fingers to bracket the word. "Like you, Draco."

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Don't you?" Eugene looked at him inquisitively. "I think that it's only your fear of what my father will do to you and yours, that's making you obey - not loyalty or devotion. And it's the same with all of you; petty people, with petty lives and pesky consciences. But with this," Eugene ran his thumb reverently over the smooth surface of the stone. "There's none of that - just blind obedience."

"But it's not permanent,"

"No, but it's a damn sight more reliable than Imperious, and you don't even need to be near the person to make it work. And, it lasts until the task's been completed, what does it matter after that. Think about it, if all of you were branded with this symbol, all father would have to do is issue a command, and it would be done - no hesitations, no second thoughts, no running off tell the enemy, it would just be done."

"So you plan on letting to Dark Lord know about this?"

"Of course, what did you think? I was going for world domination." Eugene laughed. "I want father to win this war. He's just so preoccupied with Potter at the moment, there's no time for him to think out of the box."

Draco's mind was racing.

"In fact, with my little butterfly's help, I'm going to make this all a whole lot easier for father."

"What do you mean?"

Eugene smiled at him again: "Now that really would be telling too much, wouldn't it Draco?"

"Why are you telling me any of this?"

Eugene stared at him thoughtfully: "Maybe I just wanted somebody to know that it was me who made it all possible."

Draco's mouth had gone dry, and he swallowed hard.

Severus entered the study at the same time as the Dark Lord, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange apparated into the room. He instantly fell to his knees in front of his master, and bowed his head in submission.

"My Lord," he murmured, not daring to look up.

"Severus," the Dark Lord purred. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting Narcissa, my Lord."

"You're fucking her, more like." Bellatrix laughed. "Naughty, Severus: while the cat's away, the mice will play."

"That's enough, Bellatrix." the Dark Lord commanded, and she fell silent, stepping back behind Rodolphus. "I see, Severus - well it's fortunate you are here; if all has gone as planned, then we have a very important guest waiting for us in the dungeon."

With a swish of robes, he turned and headed down the stairs; Severus paused only briefly before following him. It seemed colder in the dungeon now then it had the previous night, but then that could probably be put down to his sudden close proximity to the Dark Lord. The guards on duty outside one of the cells on the right hand side of the corridor, stepped back and bowed down as the Dark Lord passed.

The cell was dark but he could just make out the shape of a boy chained and huddled against the far wall.

"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord hissed. "Mine, at last."

The Dark Lord looked at him, and Severus dipped his head reverently.

"Do you know who made this possible, Severus?"

"No, my Lord."

Just then a shadow moved to his right, and Eugene stepped into the light: "That would be me, Eugene Riddle; I don't think we've been formally introduced."

He really did look the spitting image of Potter, but the significance of his name was not lost on Severus; he dipped his head in submission to the young doppelganger.

"May I ask, my Lord?"

"Eugene is my adopted son, Severus."

Eugene had moved to the bars, and was staring in at Potter with hate filed eyes.

"You've done me proud, Eugene."

"Thank you, father." the boy beamed at him, before turning back to glower at Potter.

Severus knew he should remain silent, but in the end his curiosity got the better of him.

"My Lord, how is it possible that he's kept Potter's image for this long?"

Bellatrix sniggered behind him.

"Oh, it isn't a potion or a glamour, Severus." the Dark Lord muttered. "Eugene, perhaps you'd like to explain?"

Eugene spun around on his heels and grinned at Severus: "We're brothers, twins - identical in almost everyway."

There was movement within the cell, as Potter pulled himself up the wall and onto his feet, stepping forward into the light - he looked as if he'd been suitably punished for his attempted escape, bruised jaw, and left eye swollen shut; blood on the collar of his once white shirt: "That's not true, I don't have a brother."

"Wrong again, Potter." Eugene chimed. "Your beloved Dumbledore advised our parents to send me away; said that with the prophecy, it was safer not to have both of us under the same roof, in case something bad happened, I guess - after all, they didn't know which one of us the prophecy referred to, did they?"

"You're lying!" Potter spat, using his last vestiges of strength.

"Ask Dumbledore yourself, if by some amazing twist of fate you get out of here alive, and if he's still alive when you get back."

Severus stared at both boys, completely dumbfounded.

"Eugene will replace Potter permanently at the school, so as not to raise any suspicions - no one will even know that their precious saviour is dead."

Neville sat on the floor, his back against the bed, using the white sheet to try and stop the blood beading on his chest. The intense pain had now dulled to a constant ached, and he could now move without feeling faint and light-headed; the darkening pool of blood on the carpet testifying to how much he'd lost.

He knew that Eugene would be back soon, and that he'd make him to do more of the things he'd already made him do; the taste of Eugene was still on his tongue, a continuous reminder. Neville wanted nothing more at that moment than to bury his head in his hands and have a good, long cry; but he knew he wouldn't - he was way beyond that now.

He got up and wondered over to the bedside table, once again picking up Malfoy's diary - he needed some form of distraction, or he'd surely go mad waiting for the inevitable pain and humiliation. Sitting now on the edge of the bed, once again holding the sheet against his chest, he slowly began to flick through it.

"Hey butterfly," Eugene said as he entered the room several hours later; Neville was by this point, lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling; Malfoy's diary, forgotten at his side. "Well, I've had an incredibly successful day: Potter, sorted; Malfoy, sorted; you..."

Neville sat up and stared at him doubtfully.

"Come here," Eugene ordered, and Neville stepped down off the bed and went to him. "Good boy." Eugene ran a hand lightly over his cheek. "Kiss me,"

And although Neville knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he really didn't want to, right at that moment, he wanted to do nothing else - reaching up, he pressed his lips to Eugene's; and Eugene deepened the kiss, pressing him back against the wall, and holding him there. But Neville wanted it, the fierce, demanding tongue, wrestling with his own; he wanted it, for as long as Eugene wanted it.

Eugene pulled back and away from him, and Neville instantly turned his head to the side, not wanting to look into those gloating eyes.

"I'm really going to enjoy you, butterfly."

Neville hated him.

"But we don't have time for this right now," Eugene caught him by the chin, and forced his head back round to face him. "I have a task for you,"