A/N: So I've been out of hospital all of three hours and I'm already posting another chapter...Thanks for the reviews, I've got to say they were some of the best I've ever had and definetly cheered me up - major knee surgery does tend to dampen the spirits a little. I would have updated sooner, sorry, but I've been holed up in a private hospital since Wednesday night. A Draco-centric chapter, yay! Enjoy!

Oh yeah, and a great song to listen to whilst reading this is Anouk - Lovin' Whiskey particularly the acoustic version. X

"And how are you feeling today Mr. Malfoy?" Some young healer checked his pulse and stood back, smiling mundanely.

He eyed her suspiciously and frowned. "Fine…thank you, any chance I could get out of this damn place?" Over the course of a week he'd watched a few minor injury cases come and go and to be frank, he was itching to get back on his feet for more than two minutes.

"Well…" She hesitated. "I'd need to check with senior command."

"Bugger senior command, I'm not going to blow you all up. I chose to come here." He swore under his breath and looked up again with cold eyes. "Is Hermione around?" Draco hadn't seen her since the intense conversation about eight days ago, which was highly suspicious in itself.

"Hermione?"

"Yes…Hermione Granger…small, skinny, hair that looks like a hedge…" He waved his hands around his head and the healer gave a quirk of a smile.

"You mean Lieutenant Colonel Granger…"

"I don't give a damn what her rank is. Where is she?"

"Wouldn't have a clue. I'll go and talk to administration though, see if they can talk to command and get you out of here…"

"Goddamn bureaucracy." Draco muttered, dropping his head into his hands.

"There will be no need for that Davies, if you could give us a minute please." Draco looked up to see what looked suspiciously like a Weasley and Remus Lupin eyeing him as the healer slipped out.

"Draco, I don't believe you know Bill Weasley." Draco nodded recognition and shook Remus' hand dutifully. "How are you feeling?"

"I've heard that question far too many times," he mumbled before speaking clearly. "Fine, just fine, apart from being confined to this hole."

"Yes well, you needed the rest and we've had a fight on our hands trying to persuade the other commanders that you have renounced the Dark Lord, that you did a long time ago.

"Damn straight."

"But with Hermione and her impassioned outbursts out the way, we've managed it."

"Where is she?" If Lupin was shocked at Draco's expressed concern for the woman he didn't show it. Not outwardly anyway.

"On a reconnaissance mission." Draco nodded and Remus continued. "They are now willing to induct you into the Order, if that is what you wish?" Another nod. "Good. I'll get hold of a uniform for you. You will be given the rank of Major for your endeavours. Don't take this lightly Draco; we've gone to a lot of trouble…but never mind that now. What matter's is getting you involved in the planning; you will no doubt have much vital information."

"Hopefully, otherwise this has all been for nothing." He rolled his eyes and sunk back into the pillows. Remus turned and called the healer over.

"Could you please go to stores and collect Major Malfoy's uniform?" Davies nodded and left. "I'd better go Draco; Bill will show you to your quarters. Dinner is served in the mess from seven, come to morning briefing in the command room at eight."

He smiled and turned to leave, "thank you," Draco's voice rang out and the smile broadened.

Bill chuckled softly and sat down next to Draco, tilting the chair backwards as they waited for Davies to return. "Sorry, about…you know…" Draco gestured towards the scars on Bill's face.

"Fenrir?"

"Yeah. I hate him, always have done, I didn't want him to come that night…I wish…"

"It's in the past, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Thank you."

"No worries."

Davies came through the door and deposited the uniform at the end of Draco's bed before disappearing again. Draco hurriedly clambered out of bed and began pulling on the black garments, as he shrugged on the jacket he smiled slightly. "I've been waiting for this day for years…"

"Right, officer's barracks are on the other side of the fort." Bill stood up and Draco pulled on his great coat for the walk. The sun had just set and you could still see people moving about the fort easily, a few passing troops saluted the pair and more than a few inquisitive glances were sent in Draco's direction. Bill led Draco into a small room with three beds and a clutter of trunks in the corner, a few chairs round them and cards scattered on top. "You're in here with me and my brother Charlie, figured we were less likely to kill you as you slept than anyone."

"Cheers."

"I'll arrange someone to bring you spare kit, have the bed on the left," Draco nodded and deposited the tattered robes he had wearing when he arrived on the bed. "Right…I have, work to be doing. I'll come and get you just before seven, show you how the mess works."

Bill smiled briefly and disappeared; Draco sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands. Settling into the Order of the Phoenix was going to be a hard task, no one trusted him, he could see it in their eyes. And the one person who had been standing up for him had gone and he didn't know when she'd be back. Draco supposed that in the past he would have had the gall to go and enquire, but he didn't think now was the time to be flaunting his ego.

Later he lay in the dark, having eaten in the mess with Bill and a few others, but he wasn't in the mood to socialise. There was a bottle of firewhisky on the mantelpiece and he clambered out from under his thin sheets to get it. The amber liquid burned his throat and he smiled appreciatively. It had been too long.

He took another swig and felt his blood rush; he hadn't gone two weeks without alcohol in ten years. He'd discovered firewhisky aged thirteen and it had quickly become a habit. Not in term time to start with, but by the time he reached sixth year he was beginning to rely on it. Draco had found that during the war, if he woke up with a pounding hangover, he could forget his disgusting activities as a Death Eater more easily, or at least not focus on them.

Another long gulp. When would Hermione be back? He couldn't quite understand why but he missed her, had missed her for seven long years since that conversation in Little Whinging. She'd been surprisingly cooperative and understanding and had listened to him for hours and hours. Of course, it had also been her that persuaded him to rejoin the Death Eaters…more firewhisky, the bitch. It better have been fucking worth it. He scowled and looked down at the Dark Mark on his arm, it was burning slightly…Voldemort was angry. Draco shivered and leant back against the cold stone wall.

"Draco…" Bill's voice came out of the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Looking for answers in a bottle?"

Draco took another swig. "Yeah…"

"Hermione will be arriving back around ten am tomorrow. We just received a report from her."

Bill removed the bottle from Draco's protective grasp and set it back on the mantelpiece. "Why should I care?" He slurred as Bill pulled off his own boots and settled down.

"Wouldn't have a fucking clue mate, but you do."

"Merlin…"