Hermione left Dortmouth at 11:50 pm the following evening. Most everyone was asleep, but she still cast a disillusionment charm on herself before leaving the premises. She waited until she was well away from the safe house before apparating to the front doorstep of Grimmauld Place.

It had been a while since anyone had been there and it certainly looked like it. The Order had moved headquarters when it became apparent anything in the city was too risky. Even protected by secret keepers, it was more of a risk than the Order was willing to take and had only served as a painful reminder of Sirius for Harry.

The fact that Snape had agreed to meet with her and only her at Grimmauld Place was a little unnerving. He was dead now and part of her wondered if that meant the new contact would be unable to access the house. Unless Snape had told him of the location and shared the secret, Hermione would not be meeting anyone.

By arriving early, Hermione had time to light a few candles in the house and tidy up a small area. While she didn't care about first impressions, she didn't want to stand in a corridor full of cobwebs and insects. The tidying also gave her something to do other than stand around and worry. When she'd known Snape would be joining, she hadn't bothered to worry about who the new contact would be. Now, though, she could very well be attacked and she probably wouldn't be surprised. After all, how was she to know that Snape wasn't killed by his supposed alliance the second he shared Grimmauld Place's secret?

Hermione was pulled sharply from her thoughts at the sound of a pop outside the door. She held her wand tightly and watched as the handle twisted and someone stepped inside. They kept a hood over their head and even with the candles flickering nearby, Hermione couldn't see the person's face.

"I see Severus managed to convince the Order to agree," the man said, almost sounding a little surprised.

Hermione had somehow assumed it would be a man she was meeting, but as she stood in front of him, she could only remember previous Death Eaters she'd come in contact with. What if the man pulled off his hood and turned out to be Graham Montague? What if it was one of the Lestrange brothers?

"Identify yourself," Hermione demanded. The room remained silent and the man did not move for several seconds. She was about to make the order again when he spoke up.

"If I do, will you swear not to curse me?" he drawled. His voice sounded familiar, but Hermione could not place it to any specific Death Eater. Perhaps it was just a lackey that she'd gone to school with. No one truly devoted to Voldemort's cause would ever think about deferring.

"I won't lower my wand, but I also won't throw the first curse if that's what you're worried about," she promised. In front of her, the man nodded, seeming alright with that answer.

Slowly, he reached up for his hood. Pale hands darted out from under his robes and a second later, Hermione was staring at the face of Draco Malfoy. Except, it wasn't him; not really. He still had the same features and carried himself just as tall, but his hair had grown longer and his face looked harder. Instead of a sneer or a scowl, he looked at her with an unreadable expression, almost as if he expected her to go back on her word and curse him.

She sucked in a sharp breath but did not curse him. They stared at each other for several long seconds. As much as Hermione knew, it could have been minutes that they stood there tensely, clearly waiting for the other to throw the first curse.

"You're taking this better than I expected," Malfoy said eventually. Hermione could see he was still tense, so she slowly lowered her wand to her side. Malfoy watched her very closely, warily eyeing her wand.

"I admit, you're not the worst one I imagined meeting tonight," Hermione said tersely. Malfoy had not even crossed her thoughts. "That doesn't mean I'm any less surprised."

"You're certainly more even-tempered than anyone else the Order could have sent," Malfoy replied. Hermione decided not to read into that, knowing how Ron or Harry would have reacted if they were in her position. "I assure you, this is not a trap."

"The thought had left my mind," Hermione told him. Narrowing her eyes, she said, "It's returned now though."

Malfoy looked at her with a pinched expression then nodded once.

"Severus said you'd be suspicious," he said. The mention of Snape was a bit unexpected, but she didn't startle. "He warned me I might have to make an Unbreakable Vow or take Veritaserum. Seeing as he's not here to perform the Vow, would you happen to have Veritaserum on hand?"

Hermione blinked, surprised at how cordial Malfoy sounded. As if he wasn't offering his services to the Order. He spoke like he wasn't about to commit treason that could get him killed or worse if discovered, but he also didn't speak like he was there for afternoon tea. Somehow, Hermione knew he was aware of what he was doing.

"I didn't think to bring any," Hermione admitted. A year ago, she may have travelled to Grimmauld Place with her small bag that was charmed to fit all of her potions and anything else she put in it. She hadn't even thought about it when she'd left Dortmouth that night.

"Perhaps a contract for me to sign?" Malfoy suggested. Hermione was about to tell him she hadn't prepared that either, but she knew upstairs was a piece of parchment and a quill. If he was willing to wait a few minutes for her to write something up, she told him she could write a contract. "Perfect," he agreed.

Hermione disappeared quickly and returned with two pieces of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She spent several minutes charming the parchment into a binding contract and then began writing everything she could think of.

He would need to swear his full allegiance to the Order, never once backing out or attempting to evade what he was tasked to do. If she had any reason to believe he was being dishonest or relaying information back to Voldemort's forces, any immunity would be revoked immediately and the Order would be sure to condemn him. She thought for several minutes, trying to think of anything else to add before ending the parchment with the final requirement that he put his duty to the Order above his personal gain, should the situation ever arise.

"It's finished," she announced, handing him the parchment.

Malfoy read the parchment in silence before taking the quill and signing his name. As soon as the ink settled, Hermione rolled the parchment and sent it to the room she'd stayed in the summer before the war began.

With the contract signed, an uncomfortable silence settled over them. Hermione wasn't quite sure what to do to break it, but she knew she should say something about what his potential tasks would be.

"You'll just be used as a source of information," Hermione told him. After all, that's all Snape had been and Kingsley didn't seem the type to have a hired assassin under his hand. That didn't mean Hermione couldn't hope for it. "I'll be your direct contact with the Order. Everything goes through me first."

"Then I suppose it's to you I should give this," Malfoy said, producing a roll of parchment out of thin air. He handed it to Hermione but kept her from breaking the seal. "Attack plans for the south of England. The dates aren't set, but the Dark Lord is ordering them this week. Don't break the seal until you can write them down. The information will disappear immediately."

If Hermione hadn't had him sign a contract, she would have worried the information was false. Now, though, she had no reason to think such a thing other than her own scepticism which seemed like a rather rude assessment seeing as Malfoy had still held his appointment with the Order even after Snape's untimely death.

"I can't be away for long if I want to avoid suspicion," Malfoy said, cutting through her thoughts sharply. "If that's all the Order needs from me, I'll be on my way."

"How will we contact you in the future? Or you contact us?" Hermione asked.

Rather than answer directly, Malfoy reached into his robes and Hermione tensed. Instead of pulling out his wand as she'd expected, she watched him pull out a thin notebook that couldn't be larger than her palm. He handed it over to her and stepped back.

"I'm sure you're familiar with mirror charms," he said. Hermione nodded, looking over the notebook then flipping through it. It was empty. "Should I come across any information I feel the Order should have access to, I'll write it there. The words will disappear as soon as you read them and close the notebook."

"And will yours do the same if the Order needs direct contact with you?" Hermione asked. Malfoy nodded and pulled an identical notebook from his robes to show her. "Will the other Death Eaters be suspicious to see you journaling?"

The thought of Malfoy keeping a journal seemed laughable, but so had the idea of him spying for the Order a year ago so Hermione supposed nothing was impossible. Nevertheless, he was the Order's only connection to the inner workings of Voldemort's regime now and Hermione would not tease him and risk losing that connection. She could hold her tongue for the sake of the Order.

"No," Malfoy answered shortly. He did not elaborate and while Hermione was curious, she didn't ask.

"Good," she said instead. She stuffed the notebook into her jacket pocket and glanced at the door. "You're free to go now."

Something resembling a smirk flashed across Malfoy's face, but it was gone before Hermione could be certain that's what it was. He pulled his hood back over his head and twisted the doorknob behind him.

"I'm sure I don't have to ask you not to tell the Order my identity," Malfoy said, pausing in the doorway. Hermione shook her head, telling him she wasn't even going to tell Kingsley. She kept the information about a possible leak to herself, though. "Good," Malfoy said. Without another word, he slipped out the door and apparated away.