Title:Game Without Tears

Disclaimer: I do not own, wish I did, but I don't. I only own my plot line. Full disclaimer, first chapter.

Author: ShaeLynn Teelle

All other information: See first chapter.

Polite constructive criticism welcome. FLAMES WILL BE FED TO THE DRAGON IN MY BED.

Chapter 1: Inside the Cage

Draco leaned against the thick wooden door he had just closed. He had felt the penetrating gaze his father had given him, but there was nothing that could be done about the hatred his father now felt for him. Lucius had always held an intense dislike for Draco since he was born. After his son's initiation, his dislike had turned to outright hatred.

The seventh year Slytherin straightened quickly and walked purposefully to the desk and bookshelves that lined the wall on the other side of the room. He reached up and pulled out a book that he was now very familiar with. Ever since he had confronted Voldemort about Professor Snape the moment after he had received the Dark Mark, he'd been searching through the potion books that had been forgotten in the room for sixteen years.

Draco was now the potion maker for Voldemort since Snape's desertion. And he was the only reason why the ex-Death Eater was allowed to live after he survived his week of torture over the summer. Draco's schooling was not yet complete and he used that fact to his advantage. He had argued that there was still much that he needed to learn about Potions and the only one in England truly competent to teach him was Professor Snape.

Draco sat at the only desk in the room and opened the book to review, yet again, how the potion was made for the Concealment Salve that he had discovered his second month as a Death Eater. He knew not to write the potion down, as Dumbledore had grown more suspicious of him since the start of term and he could not risk anything being found. He could not blame the Headmaster with how dangerous the war was becoming. No more than half an hour after Draco had begun to study the potion again, the screams from Voldemort's audience chambers filtered into the room where Draco sat.

He shuddered at the sounds of pain that had become a nearly constant assault on his eardrums and his sanity. To distract himself from the sounds in the other room, he studied the room he occupied carefully. Just as the books had been forgotten for sixteen years, the room itself had been left deserted until Voldemort had risen for the second time more than two years prior. The neglect was obvious from the state of the room and its contents.

Dust covered nearly everything, including the windows, making the light dim and shadowed, only barely bright enough to read by. The only clean surfaces in the room were the desk and the chair he was sitting on that lay between several bookshelves There were also several notable paths that wove through the room to several of the bookshelves where Draco had walked and disturbed the dust, searching the left-over books.

With the screams still grating upon his ears, Draco pushed the book in front of him to the side and stood. Randomly he pulled several books down from the top two shelves, many falling apart or in desperate need of repair, and lined them up on the desk after returning to the chair. He opened the first book, Dark Potions to the second page and began reading the names of the potions within.

No heading caught his attention so he went on to the next book, hoping to find something to distract him from the screams that continuously echoed through the rooms. He reached the last book that he'd pulled off the shelf, still hearing the painful sounds as clearly as when he started. This book was well intact, although it seemed to be the oldest book in the room. There was no writing on the outside and when Draco opened the book he found that he could read nothing. The book was written in a language he had never seen before.

Draco flipped through the book in frustration. A single piece of pure white parchment caught his eye amidst the slightly yellowed pages and he flipped back to the page. He found that the parchment was not part of the book itself, but rather had been set inside the book sometime before it was placed high on the bookshelf. Draco carefully pulled the loose page from the book and studied it. It wasn't written in English, nor in the language of the book, but instead in Latin.

To the finder of this book

I have spent multiple years attempting to determine what secrets this book hides within its pages, but ancient languages were never an interest to me and now I regret that. These pages contain a language that I have never seen before. There is no magic that can show you what is written here. I have used them all and have failed. The words, if that is indeed what they are, are short and nearly all are monosyllabic. If I am correct in the assumption that this is a book of potions as the format suggests, then, the contents of this book are either our salvation or our destruction. The side that can determine the writings of this book will have knowledge at their disposal that no other shall learn on their own. I leave it to you to decide on your actions and possibly the fate of our world.

The first up-rising of our Lord, Voldemort

Draco stared at the page in astonishment. His shock wasn't just from what the note said but also because he recognized the handwriting of Professor Snape. Draco smirked and tucked the book into the bag concealed under his cloak. He didn't want anyone else to know about the book, yet. Not until he could determine what help it could be. Draco was surprised that Professor Snape really had been unable to determine the language, but, unlike Snape, Draco had found a secret passion when he was younger besides the Dark Arts and potions.

There were many ancient languages that had been part of both the magic and Muggle worlds. With the help of his mother and translation texts, Draco had managed to teach himself to understand all that he could get his hands on without his father's knowledge of his activities. His mother had gone out to Muggle London for dictionaries of the various languages that were most common and they had worked from what he'd learned in each previous one to help with the next.

His mother had always been willing to help him, as she was unable to show much affection to him physically. Lucius would have punished her for weakening his son, so she had shown her love and acceptance of Draco by encouraging him in his secret endeavors while presenting to anyone else a relatively uncaring façade.

Draco suddenly realized that the screaming had finally stopped. He sighed and made a final glance over the instructions for the potion he would be making. Then, he sent the books back to their shelves and stood. Draco composed himself and confidently strode back to the main room where Voldemort still held audience. Only force of will and past exposure to what greeted him kept Draco from losing what little food he had forced himself to eat that day.

Blood and tiny bits of flesh covered the floor. At the center of the room was a body that was twisted and wrenched in a way that was physically impossible. Draco's heart went out to the person that was no longer recognizable even by their sex, as he watched their last shallow breath leave their body. His face remained an indifferent mask and his eyes stayed hard and cold as he knelt before Voldemort with the other Death Eaters.

"Leave me now. Those of you that must, prepare for tonight and we will see if there is a new traitor amongst us or if the next sport will be one of you here. Go!"

The Daily Prophet; November 1: Headline

AURORS CAPTURE TWO DEATH EATERS IN FAILED

HALLOWEEN ATTEMPT ON LIFE OF WEASLEYS

Trial by Veritaserum Set for Tuesday Night

Reviews are appreciated.