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Of Loyalty and Traitors

Chapter 5

Strategy

Draco was pacing across the length of his bedroom as the middle of the night drawed nearer, ideas running through his mind, each more unlikely than the next.

He realised then that it was time to approach the matter from a differents angle, getting back to the facts and working from there.

'Well,' he reasoned in his mind, 'Where Potter is staying now must be harder to penetrate than Hogwarts itself...probably guarded with a secret keeper.'

He had a few ideas of whom such a person could be, but for now it would be alomost impossible to reach the Weasleys', who were by no doubt also in the same location as Potter. He had learnt from some Death Eater that their terrible excuse for a home had been deserted for quite some time.

So that was out of the question.

'Now...who does that leave?' Draco wondered, as it suddenly dawned on him that Harry was running out of close friends at a rather alarming rate. And those left, he was planning to eliminate, he thought, feeling a slight twinge of guilt before he threw it aside.

It wasn't like Draco had people queuing up to comfort him when anything went wrong in his life. Just because Potter had been used to having people worry their heads off about the 'Boy Who Lived.'

"Welcome to the real world, Potter" He said aloud in a snide tone.

Twirling his wand idly between his long fingers, he tried to think of easier targets. There was Granger, of course, too smart for her own good, but not smart enough to stay away from Potter. Would Granger's muggle parents be as eager as the Weasley's for their kid to associate with a walking danger magnet?

He made a mental note to look into that option further.

Then there was the werewolf, who, as far as Draco could tell, was quite a father figure in Potter's life. Wormtail had mentioned that Lupin had been a close friend of Potter Senior, and Black, the boy's godfather.

Of course, Draco remembered with faint disgust, Wormtail had also been their 'close friend' at one stage. The rat was a coward, as far as he was concerned. He didn't join the Death Eaters for respectable reasons, he joined because he was too scared to do otherwise.

Hadn't he been in Gryffindor?

Draco mentally shrugged.

Anyway, back to the werewolf. Draco got his thoughts back on track...Lupin may very well be with Potter as well. Yet for some reason, he had a feeling that a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was likely to be doing something a bit more productive.

He'd look into that one also.

Who else were there? Relatives? Yes, Draco thought, Potter's relatives were the reason he had always been safe while at Privet Drive. Someone had said that he probably wouldn't be returning to to them, and Draco found this easy to believe. Surely even Potter would have worked out he was superior to muggles by now.

Bood is thicker than water, though.

Potter would by all means blame himself further if his last relatives were to suffer. Was it possible to get through the defenses on their house now that he had left them?

Draco had heard rumours about his rival's Aunt and Uncle. People around Hogwarts had often mentioned that they treated their nephew cruelly. However, he was fairly certain that the rumours were just that - rumours.

'I mean, he was the 'saviour of the wizarding world', they probably worshipped the boy. He probably had them running around like house-elves for him.' He thought with a mixture of contempt and amusement. Muggles didn't deserve any better.

He would have to ask around to find out the chances of him reaching Potter's family.

Granger may be the best place to start still, however. They had seen before the extremes Potter was willing to go to in order to save his friends, and the girl's muggle family could offer little protection. Of course, there was a good chance that magical sercurity systems would have been installed as a result of her being such a likely target.

As Draco finally settled down into his bed to catch whatever sleep he could before the sun rose, he felt that he was beginning to make some progress.

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Morning approached at Grimmauld Place and downstairs Mrs. Weasley bustled around in the kitchen making breakfast for its residents.

Harry awoke with the unpleasant memory of a dream that he had that night. He couldn't remember it in great deal, yet it had involved a discussion held between Voldemort and Snape in what had appeared to be a stone dungeon of sorts. The general gist of the conversation had been of Dumbledore's death and Voldemort being pleased with Snape.

Harry couldn't remember any more than that, but that was enough to make him feel disgusted to the point of almost being physically sick. The hatred he felt towards Snape at this stage seemed to match that which he felt towards Voldemort himself. The man betrayed Dumbledore in a way that seemed even worse that Peter Pettigrew's betrayal of Harry's parents.

His former headmaster and mentor had trusted Snape when no one else did, because Dumbledore was that type of wizard - good willed, generous, trusting...

Too trusting? Harry wondered. He then thought back to what he had been told of Tom Riddle. Dumbledore had known all along...he hadn't trusted him...

Maybe old age had taken its toll on the great wizard.

Snape...Snape had turned around and thrown it all back in the kind old man's face. He had killed him. Harry could still see the moment as though it was still happening, something about it haunted Harry even more that the death of his godfather had. It was the ultimate betrayal, he could still recall the cold look of disgust on the potions master's face as he had raised his wand to cast the fatal curse.

Tears that had not let been released stung Harry's emerald eyes as he lay curled up amongst the scarlet and gold duvet.

"Morning 'Arry." Ron mumbled from the next bed, unable to see his friend's face.

"Morning, Ron." Harry replied, attempting to sound happier than he was.

He heard Ron stumble out of bed and assumed he was getting dressed.

"Meet ya downstairs, 'Arry." Ron said, still not sounding fully awake as he left the room.

Harry forced himself out of bed and into some clothes. He looked in the mirror on the way out. His eyes did look a tinsy bit red, but nothing anyone was likely to put up on. He instinctively attempted to smooth is messy hair back down.

Downstairs, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Lupin and Charlie Weasley were already eating breakfast. The older Weasley brother had been staying with them, but was usually occupied with Order of the Pheonix tasks during the day. Harry and Ron would have liked to have been allowed to join the Order as well, but Mrs. Weasley had put her foot down on that issue. Harry, however, had a feeling that a few of the other members would give in before to long, especially now the boys would no longer be spending most of the year at Hogwarts.

"Have something to eat, Harry dear, help yourself." Molly said warmly as the boy entered the room.

Just as Harry was about to take a seat at the table, an owl fluttered down through the window he was standing by, narrowly avoiding him. The owl landed in front of Ron, who hurridly untied the letter attached to its foot.

"It's from Hermione!" Ron exclaimed happily as he opened it. Harry and the others looked up in interest.

"She ain't to happy about Hogwarts being closed - I told her about that in my last letter..." Ron had been the main correspondant with Hermione during the holiday. Harry was ashamed to admit that he had often had other things on his mind lately, although he was certainly still concerned about when his friend would be joining them.

"Yes! She's coming to Grimmauld Place next week!" Ron practically shouted, pieces of half-chewed toast flying from his mouth.

Harry grinned in response, relieved. He had a nagging feeling that the sooner Hermione was with them, the safer she would be. There had been a series of attacks on muggles and muggleborns alike since the end of the school year. Colin Creevey's father and younger brother Dennis had been killed in the last of these, something which Harry deeply regretted. He felt a great deal of sympathy towards his enthusiastic young friend and had owled him the day before, expressing his deepest sympathy.

The members of the Order had quite a job attempting to prevent these attacks occuring, especially now that they had a shortage of spies in Voldemort's ranks. Harry longer to help them, but the issue of the horcuxes were still forthmost in his mind.

He longed to have some idea of what step to take next. Harry found himself once more wishing that Hermione was there - at least she might have came up with a few possibilities since the end of their school year. Such things would be foolish to write in the letters sent through the owls, even Harry had come to realise some of the precautions that have to be taken at times like these.

"How are you this morning, Harry? Sleep well?" Remus asked him, smiling but with concern in his grey eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine thanks, Sir." Harry replied, not totally telling the truth. Nothing in his dream would of been of any use to the Order, so he felt no need to bother them with it.

He had been tempted the day before to seek Lupin's aid in finding the Horcruxes, but since had had just arrived back from visiting Tonks, Harry didn't think it fair to put pressure on him. He'd been under enough pressure in the past, it was good to see him relaxing a bit for a change. And there was no doubt that the work he would be doing for the Order would be stressful enough.

Harry trusted Lupin with all of his heart and wondered why Dumbledore hadn't told given him permission to disclose the information to the Order. Surely they could be moving at a faster rate.

He supposed the old man must have had his reasons; spies, maybe, Harry reasoned.

When Harry finished eating, Ron suggested that they look around the house a bit more.

"You never know what you might find in a place this...all sorts of old things tucked away..." Ron shrugged, with a tone that made Harry think Ron had came up with this idea in hopes of finding something interesting enough hidden away that may keep Harry entertained.

Harry understood, as Ginny joined them and they left the kitchen, that he hadn't been the best company as of late. He felt slightly embarrassed by this, and vowed to try and have a more optimistic outlook in future.

As the three of them walked though the hallways, looking in the rooms they passed, they moved into an area that seemed for some effect of the lighting to be darker than the rest of the house.

"You guys been here before?" Harry asked curiously, as the place seemed quite unfamiliar to him.

"Yeah, once or twice." Ginny replied.

"While you were with the Dursleys' last year, Harry." Ron offered as explanation. "There is a couple of rooms over this way that I thought might be worth checking out."

Harry pushed against a solid looking doorway at the far end. It didn't move until the combined weight of Ron and him was leaning against it.

The room was dusty, with a window on one wall that had thick, old-fashioned drapes hanging over it. There were a few cardboard boxes stacked up in a corner, and a cupboard with cluttered shelves opposite these.

"Lupin was cleaning it up a bit at one stage, back before we started our fifth year, Harry. He just threw stuff in boxes and onto the shelves, I guess. Wasn't hight priority - people seem to prefer the rooms on the other side of the house. For good reason to, maybe, I heard that he found a fair few dangerous artifacts over this way. Sirius was cool, but I can't say I think too highly of his family."

Harry nodded. Sirius had been living proof that you can't judge people by their families.

Something about the darkened room gave Harry a feeling he couldn't quite place.

Ron began shifting through the contents on the shelves. He picked up a rolled up piece of parchment and opened it up, eyebrows raised.

"Someone was quite the artist, aye, Harry." Ron said, screwing up his face and he held the parchment up ofr his friend to see.

It was a drawing in black ink...a skull, with a snake as a tongue...

Harry stared at it, revolted.

"The Dark Mark." He stated. "Maybe the design for it or something."

"Yeah." Ron replied, tossing the parchment aside."Sick."

They continued to look the shelves over, not finding much else of interest, though many of the things appeared rather unpleasant. A lingering feeling remained in Harry as the others eventually got bored and wandered out of the room.

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A/N- Thank-you for reading! PLEASE reveiw and let me know what you think so far!