Hermione told Kingsley and Harry about the situation in Switzerland at the same time. She hadn't meant to, but she'd walked into Kingsley's tent the following morning and seen them both standing there, so she'd mentioned it then. Harry, rightfully so, was confused as to how she knew, but Kingsley didn't question it. He dismissed Harry shortly after she broke the news then rounded on Hermione.

"He'll question everything I do now," he said. Hermione couldn't care less. "If word gets out that you're bringing the information in for battle plans, a rumour will get out that there's a second spy."

"I'll talk with him," Hermione promised. "I'll make sure he says nothing."

"Good," Kingsley replied. He held out his hand as if expecting a parchment, but Hermione didn't move. "The parchment, Granger."

"I don't have one this time," she told him. Why the sudden need for a parchment, Hermione didn't know. He'd accepted information before at just her word. "The information was too sensitive to write down."

"All other information has been sensitive as well," Kingsley reminded her. He dropped his hand, though. "Where are you meeting your contact anyway?"

"I can't tell you," Hermione said, and for that she was glad. "Before Snape died, he made you swear I'd be the only one who knew. If you wanted to find out, you shouldn't have said anything."

Kingsley pursed his lips, clearly upset with the lack of parchment and her refusal to answer.

"Bring a parchment next time," he said before dismissing her.

Hermione nodded and left the tent, stopping short at the sight of Harry waiting outside for her. He gave her an awkward smile and they fell into step together. Without saying a word, they both headed outside of the camp borders and into the forest where no one could see or hear them. While the Order was safe, preying ears weren't and if Hermione was correct about why he'd waited for her, the conversation needed to be private.

"What's going on, Hermione?" Harry asked, breaking the silence between them. He was staring down at the ground as he walked, hands stuffed in his pockets as if this was just another stroll.

"If I tell you, Harry Potter, you can't breathe a word to anyone," she said, glancing up at him. Harry stopped and looked at her. "If there is even the slightest rumour about what I'm about to tell you, Kingsley would have me publicly shamed and removed from the Order."

"Alright," he promised. Hermione made him swear it. "I swear."

Even then, Hermione waited several seconds before saying anything, avoiding the way Harry stared at her expectantly.

"Before Snape died, he was working with another Death Eater who wanted to spy for the Order," Hermione told him quietly. "He gave Snape information to send to the Order and a few days before Snape was executed, he arranged for me to meet with them and become a direct contact."

She glanced at Harry to see what he was thinking, but he didn't seem to have formed an opinion yet. He was watching her patiently, clearly determined to wait until she finished to say anything.

"As part of the agreement, I'm the only one who knows his identity and where we meet," she said. Harry opened his mouth then promptly closed it, but Hermione already knew what he'd been about to say. "It's safe, Harry. All I'm supposed to do is meet him every now and then and gather information for Kingsley."

"But you're not," he said. Hermione nodded. "Does Kingsley know?"

"Of course not," she scoffed, imagining how he'd react if he found out she was going on recon missions in the middle of the night against his command. "He refuses to let me on the battlefield though, so we've been taking a different approach."

Harry looked at her quizzically. Hermione, having expected this conversation, removed the wards she'd put around the area and watched as Harry looked over the charred portion of the forest she'd worked hard to cover up.

"You bombed those bases," he said breathlessly. Several trees were still leaning precariously and the ground was just as charred as it had been the first day. If Harry noticed the lingering dark magic and the way it crept toward their toes, he said nothing.

"We've done more too, but Kingsley would never have allowed it since we've been using spells and potions based in the dark arts," she told him. She put the wards back up so she didn't have to look at Harry's face as she spoke. "Mulciber started a sort of slave trade with muggleborns, blood traitors, and muggles. The night when I got back early in the morning and slept until lunch, we rescued thirteen captives from one of Yaxley's properties."

"Did you mention it to Kingsley?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "What is he doing about it?"

"Oh, watching the press more carefully, I assume," she said flippantly. She didn't actually know what he'd done with the information. "I imagine he's made sure each safe house knows there's a possibility of them showing up suddenly, but there's no way to send a team in to rescue them. We're keeping an eye on them though."

"And the situation in Switzerland? You're absolutely certain that's true?" he asked. Hermione nodded, but he still looked a little wary. After all, it was a big risk to ignore what would seem like an easy opening.

"I heard it from Lucius Malfoy myself," she answered, though she refused to tell him how if he asked. "He was guaranteeing the country to Greyback."

"I thought you said you were getting information from the spy," Harry said, looking worried.

"It was something I had to hear in person," she told him. "We went undercover and he ensured I was never found. You can trust me, Harry. France is the only way."

He nodded, but he still looked wary at the thought of her leaving to meet with a Death Eater. Hermione wondered if telling him who she was meeting might dissuade some of his worries, but remembering how he and Draco had acted in Hogwarts, she knew it would likely make things worse.

"I guess it makes sense now," Harry said, smiling at himself. "I always wondered how Kingsley got new information after Snape died, but of course the bastard arranged for someone to take his place."

"You're not upset about the dark arts part?" Hermione asked, having expected him to be more annoyed. Instead, he just shrugged and shook his head.

"You're always been the brightest witch I know," he told her, though what that had to do with why he wasn't upset, Hermione didn't know. "If you're messing with dark magic, it has to be for a reason. Besides, even in muggle wars, the good guys have to fight like the bad guys to win."

Hermione gave him a small smile and nodded. She'd tried to explain it to Kingsley, but he wasn't familiar with muggle history so there was no point. He'd also been strictly against the use of dark magic at all, so it was no mystery what would happen if he found out she'd both disobeyed a direct order regarding Malfoy and been using dark magic to do so.

"Tell me, is the spy just as greasy and old as Snape?" Harry asked, changing the subject as if they'd been talking about the weather or something just as civil.

"No," Hermione said, laughing at the thought of how Draco would react to such a statement. "No, not at all."

"Does he have an annoying drawl?" he asked. Hermione laughed again and shook her head.

"He's not like Snape at all, Harry," she assured him before he could ask any more questions. "Though I'm sure you'd like him about the same."

"Great," Harry grumbled, starting back toward the camp. "You're sure you aren't being imperiused?"

"Absolutely," Hermione answered. After all, while that may explain why she'd been able to tolerate Draco's presence at Grimmauld Place, it did not explain why she'd written to him that morning suggesting they meet again so she could inspect the cut on his abdomen and apply dittany.

She found herself wondering why she'd even suggested the idea all day, even after parting ways with Harry and not having anyone around to question her about it. When she got a reply shortly after lunch however, she found herself smiling down at the notebook before Ginny gave her a strange look and she hurried to shove it away.

By the time she left the medical tent late in the evening, she had run through the list of things she wanted to bring to ensure the cut on Malfoy's stomach healed correctly at least four times. She had dittany stuffed in her robe pockets and four potion vials shrunk to fit as well.

She forced herself to eat dinner slowly before returning to the tent to wait out the remaining hour. Only Ron was inside when she arrived and she hoped it would stay that way, but when the time finally arrived for her to leave, Harry and Ginny walked through the front flap.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked, tearing herself out of her conversation with Harry.

"I have an evening shift in the medical tent," she lied, glancing at Harry. "Padma wants the first half off, so we split the time."

Ginny hummed skeptically and walked past her into the bathroom. Harry gave Hermione an apologetic smile, told her not to stay out too late, then flopped down on his bed like a limp sack. While Ron asked him if he was alright, Hermione took the moment to apparate to Grimmauld Place unhindered.

"Hey."

Hermione jumped, spinning around to see Draco sitting on the stairs waiting for her.

"Am I late?" she asked. She could have sworn he'd said 10pm, but maybe she'd read it wrong.

"No, I just got away early," he answered. He stood up and pulled off his outer robe. "What kinds of poison do you have for me?"

"It's not poison," she scowled, watching him tug off his shirt to reveal the angry pink scar that was left on his stomach. She moved into the dining room and turned on the light so she could see better.

"I have to say, Granger, it certainly doesn't feel like it's been healed," he said, poking the pink skin. Hermione swatted at his hand and pulled a chair out so she could sit in front of him as he remained standing. "Are you sure you're a healer?"

"It's healed enough, prat," she told him. She pulled out of the potion vials, setting them on the table, and uncapped the dittany. "Without any potions on hand, it was the best I can do. Now hold still."

Without warning, she dipped her finger into the dittany and spread it across the scar on his abdomen. Draco sucked in a breath but didn't pull away, letting her apply the dittany across the long scar and very pointedly looking over her shoulder. Hermione worked quickly, ignoring the way Draco's stomach tightened every time she rubbed the dittany over it and telling herself she was being ridiculous. This was a perfectly normal thing to do so there was no reason for his shallow breaths or bare chest to have her toes curling.

"Take one of those potions every morning," she said, not looking up from where she was rubbing the dittany. "They'll help heal any damage inside your body while the dittany will heal the outside damage. Unfortunately, I can't leave it with you so—"

"I have some at the Manor," Draco interrupted. He leaned forward and reached down to grab one of the potion vials, either not noticing or not caring how close his chest came to Hermione's face. She glared at the pale skin and rubbed a little harder when he finally stood upright again. "Hey! Be gentle!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry," Hermione smirked. She heard him pull the cap off the potion and a second later, the empty vial was being set back down on the table and his chest was in her face again. "Would you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Draco asked incredulously. "I'm doing what you told me to."

Hermione grumbled, but she was finished with the dittany and had an excuse to stand up and turn her back to him. She put the cap back on and stuffed it in her robe pocket. When she turned around, she expected Draco to have put his shirt back on but instead, he was still standing shirtless in front of her looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Put a shirt on," she said. She gathered the remaining three potions and handed them over to him. "Merlin knows no one wants to be blinded by your pale chest."

"You can look, Granger," he smirked. He took the vials from her and stuffed them in the pockets of his pants before summoning his shirt. "Not everyone gets to see this, you know."

"They're lucky," she bit back. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt over his head. Without anything else coming to mind, she asked, "How are your hands?"

Draco glanced down at his hands, looking momentarily confused before he registered why she was asking.

"You should probably take care of them while you're here," he said, offering one of his hands over to her. "No one else will and I'm not particularly fond of the consequences."

"Good," Hermione replied. She took his hand in hers and began massaging it.

Even though she could feel no tremors, she massaged both of his hands for the full seven minutes just to be safe. She wasn't sure if doing the massage a little extra would actually help reduce the risk of permanent tremors, but now was as good a time as ever to try. Besides, Draco didn't seem particularly open to telling her when he was on the end of the crucio so she'd take the time she could get. Maybe if she was a little more open with him, he'd be more open in return.

"I told Harry there's a second spy," she said suddenly. She wasn't sure why she'd decided that was what she needed to be more open about, but the second the words left her mouth, she worried Draco would pull his hand away. Almost subconsciously, she held onto his hand tighter and rushed to explain. "I had to tell him about Switzerland and he's been suspicious this whole time, but I didn't tell him who you were, just that you existed."

"He'll tell others," Draco said sharply. Just like she feared, he tugged his hand away. "He may not know who the spy is, but if the Order knows, then the Death Eaters are bound to know."

"He won't tell anyone, but I had to tell him," Hermione said, looking up at him sharply. "I couldn't keep lying about where I've been going to my friends. If something happens, they deserve to know why."

"Oh fuck off, Granger, nothing is going to happen to you," Draco snapped with a scowl. "I bring you the information here and when we do go out, you're perfectly safe."

"Not always," she argued. This was a war and wars were never safe no matter what you were doing. "I told Harry so he wouldn't question Kingsley's order. If I hadn't, he would have marched straight to Switzerland without telling anyone and then he'd die."

"That's no excuse to risk my cover," Draco said. Hermione fumed and crossed her arms in front of her so she wouldn't hex him. "Anyone knowing is a risk and I don't want to end up like Severus or worse."

"He'll keep the secret," Hermione promised, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"And if he lets it slip on accident?" Draco demanded, crossing his own arms and looking over her shoulder. "A rumour starts in the Order and then what?"

"He won't say anything because if he does, Kingsley won't hesitate to remove me from the Order and leave me on my own," Hermione bit back. Draco glanced at her as she muttered, "Merlin knows he's been waiting for a good reason."

"Shacklebolt?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded sharply. "Why?"

"I used the killing curse months ago on the battlefield," she told him. She hadn't been ashamed then and she still wasn't now. "A Death Eater get too close and I killed him without second thought. Kingsley got upset and hasn't let me back out since." She looked up at Draco as she told him, "I told Harry about the dark magic in the bombs. He knows and he doesn't care because if he could, he'd use it too. Kingsley's watching him though and so is the rest of the Order, so he's limited."

"He could still let it slip," Draco grumbled, though Hermione could tell he wasn't as angry as before. "If there's a single rumour, do you really think you could shut it down?"

"No," Hermione answered honestly. The news about a new spy would be too hopeful to shut down, but Kingsley was sure to expel her the second he heard about it and that was bound to overshadow the news about him. "If there is a rumour though, it will be about my sudden expulsion from the Order and your Death Eaters will be more intent on finding me than you."

"You'll come here if that happens," Draco told her. For some reason, Hermione wasn't immediately put off by the fact that he'd said it more like a command than a suggestion or a question.

"Yes," she assured him. "But Harry won't tell anyone, Draco. I promise."

Draco nodded, seeming to finally believe her or at least agree with her. He didn't not hold out his hand again for her to continue massaging, though, and she did not ask.

"I should have news in a day or two," he said tensely, summoning his robe. Hermione nodded, watching him pull it on and grimace slightly as he pulled at his scar.

"The potions should be enough until then," she said, fiddling with his own robes. "Don't forget the dittany either."

Draco nodded and glanced at her once more. He barely so much as nodded at her before apparating away and leaving Hermione to ask herself why she'd even bothered telling him about Harry in the first place. Now he'd never tell her when he'd been cursed.