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. (Yes, I know the title spelling is wrong, -- )

Chapter 4: Allys and Enemys

"Can you believe it?" Ron asked several hours later as he sat on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room.

The meeting had taken nearly an hour, longer than what Ron and Hermione were used to and Ron was still in shock at what had been revealed. As soon as the meeting was over Dumbledore had asked Harry to stay and talk for a moment. The other two were used to Dumbledore asking Harry to remain longer.

All Harry ever told them was that Dumbledore talked to him about keeping himself safe. The three had returned to the Gryffindor common room and waited until everyone had gone up to bed before Harry and Hermione placed silencing and concealment charms about the room so they could talk.

"I didn't even know MacDougal was a part of the Order, now a spy for Voldemort?" Ron went on, his face slightly flushed from adrenaline.

Harry smiled slightly at his best friend. It had been good for him to join the Order and good for the Order. Ron's sense of strategy had been put to good use when he joined shortly after the start of the school term and now he could hear and say Tom Riddle's alias without flinching, a feat that still amazed several Order members.

"I wonder exactly what happened to MacDougal. Dumbledore said that if it hadn't been for the warning attached to the body, they never would have known who it was," Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

"You don't want to know, Hermione. I had a vision about it, courtesy of Voldemort," Harry answered, knowing he wouldn't be chastised about it.

He had learned Occlumency from Dumbledore until even the Headmaster couldn't break into his thoughts. But the visions he saw through Voldemort's eyes never stopped, only the images Voldemort purposefully sent to him had been halted and he could no longer take information from Harry's thoughts.

"Dumbledore's right, it would be nearly impossible to identify the body after the torture Morag was put through," he said quietly.

"There's one other thing that I'm confused about. MacDougal was killed for betraying Voldemort, but MacDougal never told the Order anything according to Dumbledore. What made Voldemort think he was being betrayed by MacDougal?"

"Maybe the Order got someone to spy for us," Ron said, looking at Hermione where she sat in one of the plush burgundy armchairs next to him.

"We've had contact again."

This caught his friends' attention away from their current topic. Harry didn't want them discussing spies for the Order. Especially when it would lead to talk about Snape who would forever limp slightly from when he had been discovered by Voldemort over the summer.

His thoughts strayed for a moment to that past summer, one filled with many unusual happenings for him. Harry had seen pieces of the torture Snape had gone through and it was thanks to his urgent letter to the Headmaster that the Potions Master survived with as little permanent damage as he had. Snape had been able to get away from the Death Eaters somehow, but hadn't been able to make it beyond the Apparation wards about the school. He still refused to tell anyone most of what was done to him, even the Headmaster.

It was a topic no one spoke of; though Harry had his doubts that any of those not directly involved knew. Albus had been away from Hogwarts at the time that Snape reached it and there was no one else there that day. Only once Harry's note had reached the Headmaster did Dumbledore return and find Severus as he was. Albus had kept Harry informed of Snape's recovery, but asked that he not elaborate to Ron or Hermione on what tortures the Professor had gone through.

It was something that Harry refused to even mention to any of his friends and most of them weren't aware he had known anything about it until they returned to classes and Snape was limping. Another event that left many of the students still speculating on what had been the cause.

Ron and Hermione, not knowing the brief direction Harry's thoughts had taken, watched him eagerly where he was pacing in front of the cheerfully burning fire in the ornate fireplace. He had taken to doing so when he was worried or thinking about Voldemort. The two knew very little about the contact, but Harry always told them who had received the message and any information that he was allowed to.

Coming out of his thoughts, Harry pulled the copied paper from one of his secret pockets hidden within the folds of the every day Hogwarts robe he had Madam Malkin's specially make over the summer. He immediately handed it to Hermione who was already reaching for it. Ron leaned over to read it with her, nearly leaning against her arm. Even though the situation was serious Harry smiled at how oblivious the two still were about their mutual attraction.

"That was part of a longer message that Dumbledore received. The message told him about MacDougal being a Death Eater and a traitor of the Order. This part was addressed to me so Dumbledore gave me a copy of it to share with you."

"There's something odd about this, Harry. What does the contact mean by changing this phrase?" Hermione pointed her finger at a particular spot half-way down the parchment and, even though he couldn't read it from where he was, Harry knew which phrase she was talking about as it was the same one he had puzzled over since reading it himself. "I've never heard of 'foe' being used before 'ally' when someone talked about something like this and actually I believe the correct phrase is 'friend or foe', there is no 'ally' in the saying."

"Let me see, Hermione," Ron said, reaching over to take the message. He studied it for a few moments, a look of concentration stamped on his face.

"What do you think, Ron?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'm thinking we need to keep an eye on the other houses. The contact has to be a student and there's a reason it was written as it was. 'The presence, or absence, of the dark mark makes neither a foe nor an ally.' If you reword it, but use the same order it would say; 'The presence of the dark mark makes neither a foe, nor the absence of the dark mark makes an ally.' Either the contact has the dark mark or is in contact with a Death Eater that has betrayed Voldemort. At least one of the students we would automatically assume is on the wrong side, isn't. And just because someone doesn't have the dark mark, doesn't mean that they are not on the side of Voldemort."

"So," Hermione started, thinking it through as she spoke, "Exactly what are we looking for from the other houses? Anyone that we would automatically believe is a Death Eater would be the students in Slytherin and we already know that they would never help us unless they had to."

"I agree with you about the Slytherins, but I think we should worry more about Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. If we already suspect everyone in Slytherin of being a Death Eater, they can only surprise us by being on the side of the light or not choosing sides at all. What we need to look for is anyone from the other houses starting to get friendly and then, asking about the Order or something that has to do with it. After all, MacDougal wasn't in Slytherin and no one would have suspected that one of being a Death Eater."

"Okay. We watch Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and the rest of Gryffindor, but we don't do anything or say anything to anyone about this, agreed?" Harry asked, looking between Ron and Hermione and taking the copied note from Ron.

There was a moment before they both nodded, though Ron looked ready to protest the addition of Gryffindor. Hermione suggested they try to get some sleep and Harry removed the concealment charms while Hermione removed the silencing spells they had placed around them. Soon Harry was left alone in the common room when Ron went up to the seventh year boys dorm and Hermione went to her Head Girl's room. He sat on the couch and stared into the dying fire in front of him. The only source of light in the room, the flames cast flickering shadows across Harry's face as he lost himself in the ever-changing dance.

Somewhere between midnight and dawn Harry fell asleep on the red couch and found himself dreaming about one of the more disturbing visions he'd had over the summer. Instead of the vision as he had seen it the first time, it came in flashbacks; flashbacks filled with emotions that Harry had not felt during the original vision.

Narcissa was dragged into the meeting room: horror, disbelief, fear, cold, anger, hatred.

A wand held out, a steady word of pain: shame, pride, apology, anger, hatred.

Voldemort's hissing voice, a command: shock, horror, disbelief, anger, hatred.

A phrase of death and a pointed wand: shame, horror, apology, resolve, anger, hatred.

Harry was brought out of the nightmare vision by a hand shaking his shoulder and a voice calling his name, "Harry, you okay, mate?"

"Yeah, Ron. Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," Harry said and after reassuring Ron that it was a regular nightmare and learning that it was only four in the morning, he collected his things, went to the Gryffindor showers, and stepped under the hot spray.

He was confused. What Harry remembered most from the dream was the anger and hatred towards Voldemort, but it wasn't his hatred. This hatred was from the Death Eater that was being initiated. It was a hatred that had been there a long time and was firmly imbedded in the mind of the Death Eater. In the mind of Draco Malfoy, the mind of Voldemort's most trusted servant.

\/\/\/\/\/

In the dungeons a young man sat up in his bed suddenly, tremors racing through his body. His arms were wrapped about his torso as though to keep himself together and his blonde head was bent as he tried to prevent the tears from falling. Thanking what little good luck he'd had in his life that he had his own room, he cast a silencing charm on the area as the first tears fell. He felt freezing arms wrap around him, but he didn't pull away and the generally comforting sensation only made the tears flow faster.

"Komodo, why do these dreams keep getting worse? We knew that there was no turning from this path, yet now that it has happened, there are problems. We cannot undo what has happened. My Little Komodo, what is wrong?" the soft voice whispered quietly in Draco's ear.

"It's different. I know that we knew this would happen at sometime. You've warned me about what Father's blind faith in Voldemort would lead to, but I was not really prepared for not being able to touch you or feel you when you try to comfort me. I want you back, Mother, I cannot continue this on my own," Draco whispered, not being able to speak any louder than that as the tears continued to fall.

"You are not on your own in this. The others are helping you as much as they can, but you need to let them help you. You will continue this. You must. I forbid you from even thinking about ending this and joining me. I know what is going through your head. Do you understand? You will live and someday everything will turn out alright in the end, just keep helping it along."

Draco looked up into the translucent face of his mother and gave her a half-hearted smile, "Yes, Mother. At least we know that the Snake doesn't use his Legilimency most of the time. He only uses it in torture and on those he believes will betray him."

"And he has no reason to believe you are anything but loyal."

"Not with the pledge I made him. I will not let you down, Mother."

"That's my Komodo Dragon. Now, how far have you gotten with this new book you've taken from the Snake's Lair?" the ghost of Narcissa Malfoy asked quietly, letting go of her son.

"Not very far," Draco quietly answered, slipping out from between his curtains.

He went to his trunk and opened it. Digging to the bottom of the trunk, he pulled up a section of the flooring and removed the book from its hiding place along with a Muggle notebook and pens. He closed his trunk again and brought all his supplies back to his bed. He opened the notebook and removed the charms on it, then, showed it to his mother's ghost.

"Well," she said, looking at the notes and sparse translations. "This makes sense for the numbers and with the format of the pages it will give you clues to how things are set up. Do you think this is like some of the Asian languages, each phrase a different word?"

"Yes, it seems to make the most sense. Can you ask around if anyone might have some clues to what is in here? There's only so far that I can get until I have a definite on some of the words. It's just so frustrating. I have a feeling that there are potions in here that the Snake would do anything to keep from the Order, I just have to figure out what they are and what they can do!"

Draco ran his hand through his loose hair in agitation. Unknown to most people outside of his dorm mates through the years, as soon as he retired for the night the spell he used to keep his hair slicked back was removed and the blonde strands tended to curtain his entire face.

"I will ask, Komodo, but there must be some potion in here that was translated into some other language and is still used today. Keep an eye on what you make in classes and try to reference what you learn back here. Perhaps some of the ingredients that are listed here are listed in a book that I know of. It is not in the restricted section because it was considered out-dated by my Potions Professor and is never used that I'm aware of. You shouldn't have a problem getting Madam Pince to let you look through the book. She does keep it in her office, though, so you will have to ask her for it.

"I believe it was titled Mo'ti Ta'skan," Narcissa looked thoughtful for a few moments, but Draco didn't interrupt her, knowing that she would continue when she had decided how to say what she wanted. "The book gave a description of what each ingredient was so even if you find something in there, it should tell you exactly what the ingredient is and how it should be prepared.

"That was something else my Potions Professor thought made the book obsolete. The one example he used was that there were nearly five different names given to one ingredient. Each name represented more of how the ingredient was prepared rather than simply saying it had to be ground or powdered or left whole. He said that the book had been rewritten as each ingredient and what the normal name for it was, but you might be able to find something in the original book. Professor Slughorne did say that many of the ingredients listed had been replaced by something that worked quicker and often better, but some had never been used by anyone he had ever talked to, whether for the Dark Arts or regular potions."

"Thank you, Mother. I have a free period after Potions today. I will see about getting to the library then if nothing untoward happens. Good morning, Mother," Draco whispered as Narcissa floated towards the ceiling and faded out just as the first rays of the sun peaked over the horizon, until there was nothing visible left of Narcissa's spirit.

It was a strange fate that Draco knew awaited him when he died. Carried through his mother's side only to certain offspring, his soul could never cross into the next plane of existence. He would be bound to this world, only present when the sun was not. He turned to watch the sun rise through the high window that sat at the top of the east wall of the room. There were small perks to being nearly at the end of his Hogwarts career. The seventh year dorms were high enough that the window was just above ground level and let in enough light to give Draco hope.

Reviews are appreciated.