Draco wasn't quite sure what to make of his meeting with Granger. He'd known it would not be a friendly get together, but it hadn't been half as bad as he'd anticipated. Severus had warned him she might throw a curse or two at him and Draco had been fully prepared for it, but she hadn't.

Either way, the meeting had gone better than Draco had thought. He and Severus had spent several days talking about what should be done if Severus was unable to accompany Draco to Grimmauld Place. For a week or two now, they'd known Severus's time was limited and his alliance with the Order was at risk of being revealed. Severus had gone to great lengths to ensure the Order would not use Draco's allegiance as carelessly and it had been him who suggested they only agree if Granger were his point of contact. Draco wasn't sure who else was in the Order he could hope to work closely with, but he figured Granger was the least likely to give him up in a fit of anger.

"She won't trust you even if I am there when you meet," Severus had told him. He'd suggested Draco offer an Unbreakable Vow to assure her or some other binding solution. "If Miss Granger were sceptical of you years ago, she'll be more so now."

Draco had been fully prepared to take a Vow too. He'd already grown accustomed to the idea when news of Severus's capture and abrupt and public execution reached him. He didn't even have time to worry about what it would mean for his meeting with Granger before his aunt was ordering him to lead an attack in Severus's home town.

Actually seeing Granger in the flesh, up close and in a confined house no less, was a rather strange experience. The last time he'd really seen her had been years ago at Hogwarts, probably during Fifth Year if he were to think hard enough. In Sixth Year, he'd been too busy with the cabinet and the Room of Requirement to take much notice of anyone around him. It shouldn't have been as surprising as it was to see how Granger had changed. He knew he had changed, but had he changed as much as Granger had?

If he hadn't known he was meeting her, he might have taken a second to recognise her. She still held herself the same and kept the same wand, but there were just a few things off that had almost made him frown. Her hair was longer than he'd ever seen it, almost down to her waist, and she'd had it braided down her back. Whether it was to keep the length from annoying her or her hair from impairing her vision while fighting, Draco couldn't be sure. He was surprised to find himself wondering if it was still as frizzy and curly as it had been in their school years, though. When he'd looked up at her face, he would have known she'd been through a war even if he hadn't been fighting it as well. Her gaze was harder and something about her stare pierced through him. He'd been thrown off guard even if only for a second.

Overall, Draco had found the meeting strange. Granger hadn't thought of drawing up a contract beforehand so clearly she'd trusted Severus's judgement enough up until she was face to face with him. He didn't even think she'd thought of a way to communicate with him. If she'd expected him to be okay with regular meetings at Grimmauld Place, she wasn't as intelligent as she'd put off. Anything of that sort was much too predictable and Draco would not be careless if he was going to play a spy for the Order.

Unlike Severus, Draco was not in as risky of a position. His family had no history of ever even considering siding against the Dark Lord and all of Draco's life, he'd openly applauded the man. It hadn't been until he'd watched his father offer his mother to the Dark Lord as a present for a single night that Draco had decided he was done.

He'd wanted out for months, perhaps a year even. Severus had regularly hinted to Draco there was another way, but Draco hadn't given him a single thought until that night a few months ago. He'd wanted to curse his father the minute the idea formed in his head, but he couldn't with so many others attending and watching. Relief had flooded through him when the Dark Lord admitted to finding no pleasure in witches himself and he'd thought for a naive minute that his mother would be spared.

"I'm sure I have loyal followers, however, who will be very grateful for your gift, Lucius."

Draco had been forced from the room before he could raise his wand at the first wizard to touch his mother. His father had locked him in the dungeons and hissed at him to behave; he'd told him the Dark Lord was their master and deserved everything they had to offer, even their wives, daughters, and mothers. If it hadn't been for the wards preventing him from using magic or breaking through the chain on his arm, Draco was sure he would have killed his father right then.

At first, Draco had refused to work with the Order directly. He reported ambushes and new attack formations to Severus who delivered them to the Order for him. It wasn't until others started to suspect a leak and therefore Severus that he'd agreed to start contacting the Order directly. Even after Severus's death, Draco still wasn't sure if it had been a wise idea.

Returning to the Manor past midnight was out of the question. The wards would alert his parents and there would be questions to answer. The lack of alcohol in his system would reveal he hadn't been out drinking and even though there was no reason to worry yet, Draco didn't want there to be any possible suspicion of him. Instead of going home, he apparated to Blaise's and made himself comfortable in one of the guest bedrooms.

Draco was rudely awoken by Blaise hexing his blanket into a cover of ants. He jumped off the bed, almost throwing himself into the nearby wall as he brushed the ants off himself and used his wand to get rid of any that were hiding in his clothes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Blaise asked. He got rid of the ants but Draco didn't move back to the bed. "I thought I was imagining the wards last night, but I woke up this morning and they were still going off."

"Couldn't go home," Draco muttered, brushing his arms as the sensation of ants crawling over him made him paranoid. "I just needed a place to crash. I didn't realise your wards would alert you to my presence."

Blaise snorted and rolled his eyes.

"What? You thought you could just steal a bed, eat my food, and leave?" he asked. Draco shrugged. He'd done as much before. "Why couldn't you go home?"

Draco gave him a sharp look that told him not to question it. One of the reasons it wasn't so uncommon for Draco to spend the night with Blaise was the regular revels and parties thrown at the Manor. Draco refused to attend and whenever one occurred, he and Blaise would spend the night getting pissed together.

"I would have returned if you'd told me," Blaise said, his gaze flickering just enough to let Draco know he was worried.

"I was fine, just needed somewhere other than the Manor," he assured Blaise who nodded reluctantly.

"Well I'm still pretty pissed, but you're welcome to the kitchen," Blaise told him, scrubbing his face with his hand. Draco smirked and summoned a bottle of hangover potion to give to Blaise. Blaise scrunched up his face and shook his head. "Not today, mate. That tastes like shit and I don't like what it does when I drink later in the day."

Draco sent the potion back to where he kept a stash of them and shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said. "It's there if you want it."

He moved past Blaise, leaving him to grumble to himself and stumble awkwardly back to his room. Draco found the kitchen on his own and managed to find something edible. Ever since Blaise's mother had fled to Italy to escape the War, his supply of food had suffered. The git had taken to bread, cereal, and sometimes fruit if Draco was lucky. Other than that, the kitchen usually only contained alcohol and chocolate for the times Blaise needed or wanted to get piss drunk. Today he was lucky, though, and after a quick meal of bread and fruit, he apparated back to the Manor and lied through his teeth about where he'd been.