Thanks to Helle Delta, incarnated-soul (I'm checking out Boulevard of Broken Dreams and liking it), the girl trapped in a dream, Chantal J and Sam, HgBookworm, InfectiouslyDepressing,Darkmoonfang, seghen, cutekitten

Sorry for the delay, I'm trying to focus on getting Security done before I seriously turn to this and The Bastard, but this plot (okay, actually the sequel I'm planning for this plot) was screaming at me, and, so instead of reading the ass load of pages I have to read for my English class, I decided to write a chapter of this, hope you enjoy.

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace and walked into his kitchen. "You shouldn't be here," he told the man sitting in the breakfast nook.

"Ron's gone," he said, "We think he's been captured. You ne--"

"If he's been captured then he's dead or wishing he was," Malfoy snapped.

"It's been less than a day."

"A day or a week, it makes little difference. Dead is dead."

"You think I don't know that? He's my best friend!" Harry stood up and took a step at Malfoy. "I can't lose him, too."

"Granger's been gone five years, Potter. Get over it already." Harry pulled his hand back, preparing for a punch, "I know you've got a hell of a right hook, but I really don't need to complication of explaining a bruise on my face at tonight's meeting."

"Tonight?"

"Weasley may be there, as a sacrifice, a reward."

"Can you save him?"

"Maybe, I'll be honest with you, Potter, if I can't find him before the meeting, he'll die, and, I promise you, he's been tortured."

"Can you save him?"

"I'll try."

Harry nodded, "I need to report back. Good luck."

Malfoy nodded, "How did you get here?"

"The back way, which is where I'll be going now." He walked out.

Malfoy sat down, "Shit, Weasel." And then he remembered Zabini. Who would have thought that Zabini would fall for a Muggle? And then be stupid enough to ask for help from one of the people who wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Elena Hisham was a cobra among vipers. She was the Dark Lord's favorite, his pet killer. He went as far as to call her his daughter, he loved her, as much as he could love anything. And because of that, she had to be the most dangerous, most vicious, most deadly Death Eater around. Despite all of that, he couldn't help but like her. Something about her was so different from the others. She'd kill him in a heart beat if she ever discovered who he really was, but she might regret it.

Unlike so many Death Eaters, she still had a soul.

He wondered how much longer she could keep it.

Midnight rolled around sooner than Elena wanted. Still, she was dutifully waiting with the other Death Eaters for the Dark Lord. He wasn't late, of course, they were all just early. The Dark Lord was infallible.

Yeah…right.

There was a lot of small talk going on, like always. Two people away from where she was standing, a Death Eater, she though it was Bradley Cooper, was asking the person next to him, "Have you been to any Quidditch games this season?" Surprisingly enough, even with the war in full swing, Quidditch hadn't stopped. The Ministry wanted to keep things as normal as possible. Of course, no one would worry about Death Eater attacks if they could go to Quidditch games.

"Not yet, but it's still early in the season," the voice was high pitched, but decidedly male, probably one of the newer recruits fresh out of school, or perhaps still in it. "I always go to the finals, though."

"Will--"

The doors opened. That was Elena's cue to lead everyone in. She stood at the left hand of the Dark Lord, and Lucius Malfoy, who'd escaped from Azkaban three years prior, stood at his right. The symbolism was lost on few. Malfoy, the younger, obviously, usually stood next to her, but he seemed to be late today. Then she saw him enter in the back. He nodded at her in greeting, but it seemed strained. Not only that, he looked worried, or, at the very least, preoccupied. She shrugged inwardly, Malfoy could be weird sometimes.

Then the meeting was underway. They Dark Lord droned on and on about the supremacy of Purebloods and why they were entitled to rule the world. Elena always liked to keep in mind, heavily guarded with occlumency, of course, that he was a half blood, and, by rights, wasn't entitled to anything he promised his followers because of his dirty father's blood.

Once all of the rituals were observed, bad Death Eaters had been punished, and the good Death Eaters had been rewarded, he did something Elena wasn't expecting. "Now," the Dark Lord hissed, "I have a special treat for all of you." He pointed his wand to the center of the room where a space had been cleared. Ron Weasley appeared. Elena's eyes widened, but she let nothing else betray her surprise.

"The death of this creature will weaken Harry Potter beyond measure." There were murmurs among the Death Eaters, "Silence!" He surveyed the room, "And who here would I bestow the honor of killing the best friend of the Boy Who Lived?

No one made a sound. Until Lucius Malfoy, "My lord, I would be forever grateful if you would give me the pleasure."

"Is there anyone else?" No one said anything, Elena knew she had to act.

"My Lord," she turned to him and bowed her head as if he were a mighty king and she a princess. "I could make his death exquisitely painful, if only you would give me the honor. The older Malfoy sees that thing's death as personal, he would surely botch it. But it is no more than some wild animal to me."

"What do you have to say to that, Lucius?" There was a challenge in his voice.

But Lucius Malfoy wasn't dumb, "It is, of course, my lord's choice. I'm sure, no matter who is given the gift, it will be awesome."

"You do always choose your words well." He looked at both of them, he right hand and his left for equal amounts of time. "We need a spectacle tonight, the show is all yours, Elena."

"Thank you, my lord." She'd have to make it convincing. She'd have to make him hurt. She stepped down from where she was standing next to Voldemort. He was always above his followers, just like all evil lords, he needed his minions to look up at him.

"Ronald, Ronald, Ronald, you always were the stupid one weren't you? Getting caught, in broad daylight probably." Ron had a small pin on his shirt, for some reason, his guards hadn't removed it. It was a phoenix. She took it off and transfigured it into a knife. "You see, Ronald," she casually sliced his arm, "I don't really like the Cruciatus Curse. Much to impersonal really." She slashed him again, a twin on the other arm. The cuts were shallow, but she made sure that they hurt enough to make him cringe. Unfortunately, he'd chosen this time to be stubborn.

"You know it hurts," she sliced his cheek, "It's alright if you want to react. No one here will hold it against you." This time, she actually stabbed him, in the chest, careful to avoid anything vital. He grunted, but that was it. "Ronald, this is hurting you a lot more than it's hurting me. Honestly I could go all night."

"My name is Ron." He finally said.

Funny, one's name seemed to be a mantra during torture.

"Oh, I think I like Ronald better. Besides, I'm the one with the knife. I could call you Jebediah and you couldn't do anything about it." She kept slicing him, and taunting. Once she was sure that the Dark Lord was satisfied, she transfigured the knife back into a pin. "You might as well die with the sign of your Order in your hand." She didn't want to do it, but showing kindness here could result in disaster. She slammed the needle of the pin into the fleshy part of his hand. Finally, he flinched.

She pointed her wand at him, and, more importantly, his hand. Her idea could work, but only if she acted really fast. "Portus," she whispered, and before anyone noticed the tell tale color shift of the pin, she screamed, "Avada Kedavra." Ron Weasley was nowhere to be seen. Luckily, no one had been standing behind him.

The Dark Lord clapped twice, "You always provide us with wonderful entertainment, Elena." He stood up from his chair and apparated from the room. The meeting was over. Elena couldn't wait to get home. She could collapse there, any weakness in front of these people and she might not make it out of the meeting room.

"Some show, Elena," said someone as she walked out. The sentiment was repeated over and over, she smiled and thanked them, making her way to the door. Voldemort was the only person permitted to apparate out of the building. That, among other things, ensured that he wouldn't be followed.

Finally, she was outside. "That was something, Elena," said Malfoy, finally catching up to her. "You're always a wonder."

Elena felt like she was going to throw up, and soon. "Thanks, Draco, really. I'm feeling really tired, I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," he turned around, took a few steps, and turned back to look at her, "What did you have against him?"

"What?"

"You talked like you knew him, like you were…like you were trying to say something else, but you didn't want to others to know. Do you have a longstanding feud, or something?"

She sighed, "I'd never met him before, Malfoy. I just did what I had to do." She smiled wryly, "Some job, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Goodnight, Draco. I'm really tired." She apparated away.

Only then did Draco realize that she'd called him Malfoy once, not Draco. Something was off.

Back at his house, Potter was waiting in his kitchen again. "How'd you get him out?" he asked.

Draco was confused, no one had escaped tonight. "What are you talking about, Potter? I couldn't save him, it wasn't possible."

"He's hurt badly," Potter said slowly, "There's a lot of blood loss, but he's going to live. He was portkeyed to Grimmauld Place almost an hour ago. There was a pin stuck in his hand that was turned into a portkey. You're telling it wasn't you?"

Draco shook his head, "No, he was tortured in front of everyone, and then the person torturing him yelled the killing curse and…he disappeared."

"You're the only spy we have in Voldemort's inner circle."

Draco met his eyes. "I'm well aware of that, Potter, but thanks for the update."

"The torturer, does he have any reason for saving Ron? Did Ron ever save his live, or anything?"

"She," Draco said, "said that she'd never met him before in her life. Right now, I'd be willing to bet that that's not exactly true."

"Who is she?"

"The Dark Lord's left hand, if you understand my meaning," Harry nodded, "She's the one I have to hide from."

"A spy hunter."

"I'll talk to her, see what I can find out."

Potter put a hand on his arm, "Don't take any unnecessary risks."

"I've been doing this for five years, don't worry about me." Draco shrugged his arm off, "You should get going."

"Yeah, I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Draco didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he apparated over to Elena's right after Potter left. It wasn't a suave spy move, but he'd make up an excuse if need be. He knocked on her door, but there was no answer. She was probably asleep, it was almost two AM. But he heard movement inside. He tried the door. It was unlocked.

That wasn't good.

Elena's light was on in her room. He saw that it came from the bathroom. He could make out her form sitting next to the toilet, sweating. Then she leaned back over and retched. He walked in and rubbed her back. She was trying to hold her hair back, but there was still some stuck in her mouth. He grabbed what he could and let her finish.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Her voice was hoarse.

Now it was time for him to be a super spy, "I didn't think you looked to well after the meeting. I though maybe you could use a little company."

"I'm fine," she flushed the toilet.

"It sure doesn't look like it."

She met his eyes, "What I say now stays between you an me, alright?" He nodded, "It makes me sick, obviously. I hate torturing people, but I hate watching it happen more. Killing is one thing, I understand that it has to be done. But I'm not a sadist. After what I did to that man tonight, it just broke something in me. He could have a wife, kids. He's a Weasley, so I know he has plenty of family, and I just tortured him like it was nothing, like he was nothing."

"And killed."

"And killed, yes. I'm just sick of all of this shit!" She let her head rest against the wall, "And I know I can't stop it, we're Death Eaters, you and I, this is what we do, and we're supposed to somehow enjoy it. Some job I do of it, eh?"

He gathered her close, now she leaned her head on his shoulder, "I know," he just said softly. She didn't know what he knew. Hell, he didn't know what he knew, but sitting there, he knew that things were different than what they were that morning.

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