He was late and she was worried.

It had been only five minutes but in their world, that mattered hugely. Fourteen days without a solitary word meant that five long minutes stretched like an eternity and she was getting desperate, with no new intelligence the Order had been clutching at straws on where to strike next and as a result had failed to make any impact at all.

The barren landscape served her grim mood and she stared across the marshes of Rannoch Moor in the middle of Scotland knowing that it was beautiful rather than seeing the beauty. It was harsh and open but isolated and really the perfect meeting point. It had been her choice after the initial meetings, the old train to Hogwarts had once passed near here and it reminded her of happier times.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself turning away from the view and moving in further from the main road, the cold air biting at her cheeks and hands. She had forgotten her gloves in her haste to leave and get away from the house after the revelation of Draco Malfoy's picture. She didn't want to think of him as sad, didn't want to think of him as trapped in this nightmare in the same way she was. He wasn't allowed to be a victim of this. No, in her mind he had to remain a facilitator to this evil or everything she had believed about the differences between the light and the dark lost their rationality. In her mind, the entire war had kicked off the moment he had failed to kill Dumbledore and that made him culpable, she shuddered to think of what had happened mere moments before that incident.

"I'm here, I'm sorry". His voice was gruff and she resisted the urge to shriek as he appeared suddenly behind her.

"You're late", she said instead attempting to compose herself.

"I'm aware", he replied coming closer but pulling his scarf up until it covered most of his face. "Had to be present at the meeting with the Dark Lord, the Parkinsons had their memories wiped and are currently in Wellington, New Zealand although I suspect not for long. Pansy is dead".

"Dead?"

"Yes, Draco killed her".

Hermione let out a shaky breath and thought she would feel relief at hearing that Draco was still a sadistic killer and his "sad eyes" had all been in her head but it never came. Something was wrong; something about the way he was telling her was off. Usually, he listed casualties with something akin to relief and pleasure, his voice this time held no mirth and was oddly distant.

"How did she die?"

He didn't reply right away, instead he raised his gaze and stared straight through her, something he never did. He rarely made eye contact but this time, his eyes were almost challenging her to question him and it made her nervous. "Don't know, wasn't there".

She dropped her gaze from his defiant dark brown eyes and stared at the floor almost embarrassed at having asked such a question, which in itself was preposterous; asking him questions was sort of vital considering she was his contact.

"And Pansy's parents?"

"They'll be dead soon, Draco gave them up too but at least it's over for them now".

"Busy day for Draco", she muttered before realising his raised eyebrows meant he had heard her. She shook herself, "You're recruiting now in Russia, right?"

"Yes, and Poland, Lithuania and Brazil, so far our numbers have increased by the hundreds but by the end of the year we're looking at over a thousand new members. The new recruits are being trained in an old, long-abandoned camp in Germany called Dachau. It was a tourist attraction but certain contacts within the German ministry have seen it put to our use instead".

"That was a concentration camp never mind a tourist attraction", she whispered back, horrified at the idea despite all of the atrocities she had seen thus far.

"Yes, well it suits our purpose and it's out of the way. There, you'll find all the brand new recruits being trained. Draco Malfoy oversees their training most of the time but he's often not there and instead they are left with Zabini and Nott who take it in turns to be in charge with the rest of us helping when we're not elsewhere. Although, I think Nott will be spending more time there than Zabini in the future".

He seemed to pause and decide whether or not he wanted to keep sharing with her. Sometimes, he would stop abruptly in the middle of a torrent of information but his off-kilter mood obviously served his generosity and he continued steadily. "I recommend coming just before dawn if you're planning to raid since this is the time deemed the safest for the recruits to guard themselves for training purposes. It's not well protected in the hour right before the sun rises because the new recruits are lazy, more interested in glory than actually doing anything like work".

She hid her pleasure at this information, anything that meant making a dent in Death Eater numbers was good news."Anything new on Voldemort?"

"Still hiding in a location he is keeping from everyone, including Draco. He appears when he wants us, does most of his business out of Malfoy Manor but doesn't stay there. We don't know where he goes when he's not with us and the Manor is as impenetrable as always. Death Eaters still cannot get in and out without first giving up their wands. Security measures have become more stringent in the last 24 hours with the Parkinson treachery, as of this morning none of us are allowed to be in the presence of the Dark Lord without a chosen senior member present. Zabini, Malfoy and Flint are the only senior members Voldemort will trust now".

"What happened to Theodore Nott?"

"Voldemort is finding him too jumpy recently, he's been demoted for the time being on Draco's orders".

She stared at him for a few moments when he was finished, realising that with this news they would finally be able to get a handle on just how many new recruits they were facing and stall further efforts to obtain more. "This is valuable information, thank you".

"Let's just say I was in a giving sort of mood today", he replied gruffly still not looking at her but shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets. "Your turn".

"We've started recruiting in America which is going very well and France which isn't going as well, most of them just seem to want to be left alone. We've talked about giving you two safe houses but you should know that there are Order members there who will be expecting you. We don't sell people out. They are in Glencoe, which is west from here about two hours that way, they're the only two houses in the middle of it about ten miles apart, you can't miss them. Send Death Eaters but know that those present will have been forewarned. We ran through it with everyone and those were the ones that agreed to be given up, they'll be ready for you".

"That doesn't matter. Thank you".

"So Draco Malfoy killed Pansy and sold out her parents. I have to say, of all things I didn't expect that to be part of your intelligence but I'm not surprised, he's consistent at least".

"How do you mean?" She hadn't expected him to be listening never mind answer her; she had meant her comments for herself and was surprised to see that for the second time that night, his eyes were boring into hers.

"He's still the sadistic killer we've come to recognise over the past three years, he's the only one in this war who has behaved exactly as I would have expected, well...not quite, he's a far cry from the coward and bully he was when we were in school. His strength is now what makes him so dangerous but yes, since this war started he has been the most consistent player".

"You want to know something about Draco Malfoy?" His words took on a fierce tone as he moved towards her and for the first time she saw a flash of feeling cross his face. "He's full of surprises and just because you've seen him at occasional battles and raids, don't think for one second that you know anything about him, you know nothing".

She shook her head and moved towards her contact brushing the hair from her eyes as she went. "There's a time I would have agreed with you, the night that he failed to kill Dumbledore made me think once that perhaps there was hope, perhaps he wasn't a complete lost cause and there was more to him than what he was projecting; but I was wrong. The Draco who failed that night, and wavered for a brief moment in his loyalty, is gone before he really had a chance to exist. There is no hope for the man he has become, one who kills without remorse and does his Masters bidding like a good little dog. He is surrounded by bodies and soon he won't remember the person he used to be or the person he could have been".

She took a shaky breath after her speech unaware that she had been holding onto all of that and had needed to say it to convince herself that it was true. The Draco she thought she had known really didn't exist anymore and trying to believe otherwise whilst knowing all of the inhumane crimes he had committed was nothing more than school girl fantasy.

He blinked and the flash of feeling she had seen in his eyes a mere moment before was suddenly gone, replaced by weariness and resignation.

"I don't care anyway", he shrugged. "Maybe Draco is a lost cause, I don't think even he knows what he is".

"He's a killer, that's what he is".

"That's all you would see", he said and something in his tone sounded familiar. It sounded like the way she had tried to defend Draco to Ron and Harry just once, before the astronomy tower incident had changed everything and back when she thought her feelings for Draco were becoming more than just an indifferent need to help.

He stared at her a moment more until she felt uncomfortable and then he took one step away from her turned his back and prepared to leave, "Next week but early in the morning this time, with the new schedule at Dachau it's easier for me to get away when it's still dark, 5am?"

She nodded still staring at him with the hint of a frown on her face. He turned and began to walk away but before had had so much as taken three steps he turned back and this time she saw his eyes flash and suddenly, they didn't look brown anymore but stormy grey and angry.

"There's a mausoleum on the grounds of the Parkinson house, the house itself has long since been destroyed".

"This morning, we know".

"But the mausoleum still stands", he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Go to it and see if it gives you food for thought".

"Why would I...?"

"Until next time", he replied, turning on his heel with one last almost lingering glance at her face.

The sound o f the pop echoed around the moor and Hermione shivered, they had never discussed Draco Malfoy like that before although most of the information seemed to come back to him considering he was Voldemort's right hand. She guessed that this contact, whose name she had never been told, must spend a lot of time in Draco's company or in the Dark Lord's at least and was therefore, also quite superior. Although, given what he had said tonight, he wasn't a senior member but remarkably well informed for someone who wasn't in the inner circle.

Perhaps though, he lied to her. His intelligence had always been good but no information ever came back to him so perhaps that was the point. She had wondered briefly in the beginning if this contact was someone like Malfoy, Zabini, Nott or even Flint but had quickly realised his intelligence and ability to partake in something as difficult as this, ruled out quite a number of death eaters.

For him to be Malfoy or even Zabini, the only two really intelligent people to come out of the death eaters and the only two she could think of that wouldn't crack under the pressure made no sense. Not with everything she had learned about them over the past two years. She had therefore given up trying to guess and stopped caring, after all what did it matter who her contact was as long as his information was valuable?

She prepared to apparate but just as she moved to turn on the spot her contact's words resonated in her head when they had been speaking about Draco Malfoy, "He's full of surprises".

The disbelief shook her so hard, she apparated three miles north of where she had intended to be and fell to her knees.

There was no way. It wasn't possible.

Perhaps she would stop by the Parkinson Mausoleum after all, it couldn't hurt.

Right?