Draco returned to the Manor a second before his bedroom door flew open. The bookshelf was still pushed away to reveal the house elf tunnel and Draco was certain he looked a bit of a mess, but the only thing he really seemed to register was the fact that his father looked absolutely livid. He didn't bother fixing his hair or trying to subtly move the bookshelf back in place. It wouldn't help and the bookshelf had been the first place his father looked when he had entered the room.

"Greyback said he heard you," his father said, staring at the open tunnel. "I swore you weren't that stupid but clearly I was wrong." The bookshelf slammed back into place as his father raised his wand at it and Draco refused to flinch. "I thought you were smarter than that, Draco," he hissed at him. "Do you care to explain yourself or are my assumptions correct?"

"What are your assumptions?" Draco asked. He doubted his father suspected him of bringing Granger or anyone else into the Manor, but he wanted to know for sure.

"You've always been ambitious, but when the Dark Lord forbids you from attending a meeting, you do not disobey!" his father yelled. He stepped further into Draco's room but Draco did not move. Stepping close enough Draco could feel his breath, his father hissed, "Greyback thinks you should be given to him, but you've been my son for long enough I know how to deal with you. I told him I would do it, but do you know what he told me?"

Draco kept his gaze straight ahead, not looking at his father and focusing on keeping his heart from beating out of his chest. He struggled to keep his breathing steady and wondered if he always swallowed so loudly.

"He says you brought someone with you," his father whispered angrily. "Someone he didn't know by scent and someone stupid enough to trip in the tunnel. Tell me this now, Draco, or I'll hand you to the Dark Lord myself: Who did you bring with you?"

"Blaise," Draco whispered after a pause. He kept his eyes on the door behind his father and willed himself not to look up at him. If he looked at his father, he worried that somehow he'd know it had been Granger and not Blaise in that tunnel with him.

His father hummed and took a single step back. Without warning, he grabbed Draco's face and forced him to meet his eyes. Draco barely had time to prepare before he felt a searing knife cut through his mind.

He'd always been a skilled Occlumens thanks to both Severus's and his mother's teachings, but for a second he struggled to fight his father. The searing through his mind only got worse and Draco hastened to think of Blaise. It had been years since he'd introduced Blaise to the house elf tunnels, but his father was angry and would not notice how young Blaise looked. He fell for the trick and after burning through memories of Draco and Blaise in the tunnels, he released his hold on Draco and withdrew from his mind.

"You're a foolish boy, Draco," he snarled. Without any remorse, he turned his wand on Draco and snarled angrily, "Crucio."

Draco gasped and his eyes went wide as the curse hit him in the chest. His knees wobbled as his body burned from the inside out and he felt his body shake. Stifling a cry of pain, he dropped to his knees and panted heavily. His head pounded from the earlier Legilimency assault and the sensation was only multiplied by the anger in the cruciatus curse that coursed through him. It didn't take long before he couldn't keep himself upright even on his knees and he fell forward, hardly able to catch himself with his hands as his body continued to convulse and he cried out in pain. This only seemed to make his father more upset as the pain increased to the point that Draco found himself dropping fully to the ground and rolling onto his back.

A shock of pain shot from his ribs to his hip but he wasn't sure if it was part of the crucio or not. He couldn't even think to check as his back arched off the ground and he felt fire in every part of his body. He clutched at the carpet for something to hold onto but came up empty handed and ended up digging his fingernails into his palms. His hands spasmed and his fingers twitched and somehow through the haze of pain, he registered Hermione's warning about the cruciatus curse. She'd be livid if she found out about this, he knew it.

As if the thought of Hermione getting upset was the key, the curse suddenly lifted and Draco gasped for air. His father towered over him, his wand still pointed down at his chest and a scowl permanently on his face.

"Don't you ever go near those tunnels again, do you hear me?" he demanded. Draco barely managed to nod and the movement sent pain from his neck all the way down his spine.

Without another word, his father turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Draco stayed on the floor, trying very hard not to move as phantom pain jolted through his body and his torso ached. Blearily, he brought a hand up to his chest and paused as his fingers felt something warm. He pulled his hand back, ignoring the way it shook as he held it above his face and stared at the red blood now covering his fingers. As best he could, he moved his chin down to see his robes torn with one long cut through them, slowly growing darker with blood.

In a panic, Draco fumbled for his notebook to write Hermione. It wasn't until he'd pulled it from his robes that he realised he didn't have a quill and it would do no good. He attempted to stuff the notebook back into the pocket of his robes and slowly sat up, gritting his teeth through the pain. His torso hurt worse as he curved forward and unconsciously, his hand darted out over the pain.

"Fuck," he murmured as his hand grew even stickier with blood.

He took a second to collect himself, trying to determine if he should apparate back to Grimmauld Place or simply wait for his mother to check on him. Taking in the gaping wound on his abdomen, he knew he couldn't apparate in his current state.

Clumsily, he pulled his wand from its holster and pointed it at the wound. He hadn't taken many healing classes before, but he knew the basics well enough to at least stop the bleeding and heal it enough he could apparate. After all, there was no telling how long it would be before his mother checked on him and he couldn't leave Granger waiting all night.

He waited until he felt like he could breathe without getting dizzy before moving. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet using a nearby chair and only swaying slightly. When his vision was clear and he could breathe again, he released the chair and focused very hard on Grimmauld Place before apparating.

The second he landed, he went crashing into the wall. Having not accounted for how small the entryway was, he'd barely made it inside. His hand moved to his abdomen to check it and unsurprisingly, it came back bloody. He cursed, but hastily covered his wound back up at the sound of footsteps. Granger, having heard the noise, came running into view and frowned despite Draco's very intense effort to appear fine.

"There's more you need to know about that meeting," he said, bracing himself on the wall.

"You're hurt," she said, blatantly ignoring the way he was trying to direct the attention away from him.

He tried to wave her off, but the action backfired when she gasped at the sight of his bloodstained hand and she bolted forward. He didn't even try to fight her and instead, slumped uselessly against her side. She stumbled under his weight and while he tried to apologise, he couldn't seem to form intelligible words.

"What happened?" she asked, fiddling with her sleeve. A second later, her wand slid into view and she cleared the area they were standing in.

Draco meant to answer, but in his current state of mind, he found her movements all too distracting. He watched in dazed awe as she transfigured a summoned chair into a cot and forced him to lie down on it. Beside him, she dropped to her knees and her hands flitted about. He tried to watch as she vanished his robes, but pain shot through him sharply and it was all he could do not to cry out in pain.

"Draco, talk to me," she demanded, hovering over him for a moment. She disappeared from his sight and Draco was left to stare at the ceiling. A second later, he heard her say, "The wound on your stomach, tell me about it."

"It hurts," Draco said dumbly. He couldn't see her, but he grinned at the image of her rolling her eyes at him.

"Was it made with a cursed blade? Dark magic?" she asked. He could feel her cool fingers pulling his shirt from his body and struggled to look at her. "Lay down," she ordered sharply. Draco's head dropped back to the cot immediately.

"Just a wand," Draco answered. Hermione hummed then went silent.

Draco wanted to watch her work, but he knew he'd get scolded if he moved. Instead, he tried to hold very still even as the phantom pains from the crucio echoed through his body and the sharp stab of pain from his torso remained.

"I don't have anything to help the pain," Hermione said suddenly. Her head appeared above him for a second and he could have sworn she'd tricked him into taking a pain potion then, because suddenly he felt a bit better.

"It's not that bad," he told her. She gave him a small smile then disappeared again to continue working on his stomach. The pain returned and Draco couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped.

"It's about to get momentarily worse," she said. Draco frowned, but before he could worry about what she was going to do, his abdomen felt like it was on fire once again and he gasped.

The pain lasted only a few seconds and as soon as it disappeared, Hermione's face was hovering over his again. She reached forward and brushed his hair out of his face, giving him a small smile as she did.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "It's the only spell I know to heal a cut like that without the aid of potions."

"Didn't hurt that much," Draco grumbled. He felt her free hand wrap around one of his comfortingly and he closed his eyes. "Thanks."

"I'm a healer, Draco," she said. He peeked an eye open to see her smirking. "It's what I do."

"I do have more information for you," he said, hoping she didn't think he'd just made her wait so she could heal him. He struggled to sit up as he said, "I was hoping they'd say more since all I have are rumours, but—"

"Lay back down," Hermione said, taking her hand off his cheek. "You may not have an open wound anymore, but your body is still healing."

"I'm fine, you need the information," he said, pushing himself fully upright.

His body spasmed and his fingers twitched as another phantom pain coursed through him. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and lifted his hand up. He willed his body to stay still, but as she stretched out his hand and let go, his fingers trembled.

"You were cursed!" she exclaimed, immediately taking his hand back between both of hers. "Merlin, Malfoy, you should have said something earlier!"

"You were busy with the cut on my stomach," Draco reminded her. His eyes dropped to his hand that she was massaging vigorously. "Would you really have let it be so you could massage my hands?"

"Shut up," Hermione muttered. She, too, was looking down at his hand as she massaged it soothingly.

Draco just stared, trying to memorise the movements in case he ever needed to know them even though he doubted he would.

When she finished with his first hand, she took his second and began the massage all over again. Draco let his eyes fall closed and he leaned back until his head hit the wall behind him. It wasn't a comfortable pillow, but his body was exhausted enough that anything felt fine.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Hermione asked. He jolted awake, almost pulling his hand away before stopping himself. She looked up at him, but didn't ask again.

"When you hit the wall, Greyback heard," he told her. He'd figured as much which is why he'd reacted so quickly and she nodded as if that made all the sense in the world. "My father appeared shortly after I returned and seeing as I was not supposed to overhear the meeting, he was upset."

"Does he know you brought me?" Hermione asked, looking up at him briefly. Draco shook his head.

"Greyback knew there was someone with me, but he didn't recognise your scent," he promised. "I told him it was Blaise."

If Hermione thought there was more to the story, she didn't say anything. She just finished the massage on his hands and sat back on her heels, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

"You said you had more information?" she finally asked. Draco nodded.

"The Dark Lord has been fighting on the Swiss border for months," he said, something he was sure she already knew. "My aunt has been permanently stationed there, but word has it that they'll soon have control of the country. It's inevitable at this point and there's no way for the Order to stop it, but they're going to make it look like there's a way."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows drawn together.

"It's a trick," he warned. "They'll broadcast an attack from the south and the west, but those areas have already been widely taken control of. There's going to be an opening for the Order to slip in through the north unnoticed, but Bellatrix has almost all of her soldiers stationed there waiting. Switzerland is well protected now and your best chance at winning is if you take back northern France and regain control of the channel."

"There's bases operating out of northern France?" Hermione asked. Draco paused. He could have sworn he'd already told her that.

"Yes," he said hesitantly. "We control most of the channel which is how we've gotten Death Eaters across without raising suspicion."

"Can you get me the locations of these bases?" she asked. Draco nodded. That was easy enough. "Will we need a portkey to get across or do you think a muggle ship is alright?"

"I haven't heard of them monitoring any muggle ships, so that should be fine," Draco assured her. He did remind her of the anti-apparation wards that had been set up in the south of England, but she seemed to remember them. "Attacking France when the public attack on Switzerland takes place should give the Order an improved chance."

Hermione nodded and got to her feet. She hesitated, looking down at Draco as if about to ask him something then shook her head.

"Try not to get cursed again, okay?" she said. Draco nodded and when she held out her hand to help him up from the cot, he took it. "I have to stay with the Order and smooth some things out, but if you get cursed, I expect to be told."

"Promise," Draco replied. She apparated away and a second later, Draco followed suit, landing in his bedroom and immediately finding his way to his bed. It didn't even occur to him until he'd buried under his blankets that he'd been shirtless since Hermione had healed his chest, but by the time he realised it, he was so close to falling asleep he didn't particularly care.