A/N: hello pumpkins! This is written for the HPWMM challenge with random characters & plots. I don't ship Dramione romantically, but I'm interested to see how they would develop as a weird kind of friendship. The two prompts for this drabble are camping and sadness. Hope you enjoy!

"You do know there's magic for things like this right?" Draco spoke with much less gusto then his usual tone. He said it almost monotone, with no spite icing his words and as it fell from parted lips it felt weird. Weirder than being in the middle of the woods with Hermione Granger, weirder than being on the run from a man who Draco had once sworn his loyalty to, and definitely weirder than the fact he wasn't using a wand to put up a crummy excuse for a tent.

Without having a calendar, he assumed it was ten days since the battle of Hogwarts. During which, when Harry had revived himself, Draco had made the incredulous decision to switch sides. It had been a mixture of emotions that forced him to do it. He would like to blame it on grievance, considering his best friend had died mere moments earlier, but Draco knew he could not rest the blame solely on the room of requirement. Harry had come back to life, and Draco thought he would finally be playing for the winning side; thought that maybe, just maybe he could be the hero too.

What a joke.

Harry Potter died that day, and this time for real. He and Voldemort had faced off, and Voldemort ended him in one short swipe. Everyone knew Harry could never kill someone, especially not Voldemort, and looking back on it Draco realized he was fighting a losing battle. Draco had never really felt anything but disdain for the Weasley's, but in that moment, he felt pity. They cried loud shrieks, and a few of them even acted out against Voldemort, foolish enough to think they could take him on. That's how Ginny and George Weasley went out. Draco would never forget the sound their bodies made when hitting the ground. He would never forget the bile that built up, or the way Mrs. Weasley visibly lost it. From what he gathered, Fred Weasley had died only minutes previous, and just like that the Weasley clan was losing numbers by the second.

Even with how their stories ended, Draco still felt some form of envy. He'd like to think people would grieve for him in that way, but honestly? He's pretty sure his funeral will be a small affair.

Pulling him back to the present, he heard Hermione sniffle before answering. "Considering our current situations, I think straying away from magic is our best option, Malfoy." Clearly shock had not subdued her quick tongue. Draco had to physically bite back something spiteful to say, because although her words didn't waver, her resolve did. She looked horrible. And not the kind of horrible Draco would usually make fun of her for, but truly, and utterly broken. Her frizzy hair looked as if it had only been combed with the rough end of a sponge, and the deep bags under her eyes signified the amount of sleep she'd been getting, which was zero. Considering they were technically in the same boat, Draco could only assume he didn't look much better.

"We can't just abandon magic, Granger. That's not how this works, we can't just become muggles and escape the dark lord. I assume Ronald is still out there somewhere considering parties have not been thrown so don't you think-"

"Stop!" She basically screamed it at him, and in any other situation, he probably would have yelled back. No one cuts him off, and especially not know-it-all Granger, but something strange replaced his utter loathing for the girl, and with a small dose of surprise, he realized it was pity. He pitied her. And technically with good reason. She had lost Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, and without a proper radio possibly Ron. Draco didn't even care for Crabbe and Goyle as much as she did for her friends, and even still he found it hard to cope with the fact that they were gone.

"Stop, alright? You don't get to judge me, or call the shots, or do whatever rubbish you think you're entitled to! That mark on your arm, that means you get no say anymore. You don't get to mention Ron like you understand us. Don't get to think of Harry like you were mates. I am here because you dragged me out of that castle, and I'd say thank you, but one cruddy act does not make up for a lifetime of persecution. You will do as I say, and if I hear so much as a question, I swear Draco Malfoy it will be your last." Hermione declared, turning back to the task at hand. He could see angry tears building in her eyes, and somehow that added more venom to her words.

"Really? Because the way I see it I saved your life!" He wasn't even sure why he was fighting her, rationally he knew he should back down, but all rationale flew out the window when the dark lord became ruler.

"Yeah, well, I wish you hadn't!" She said it with such ferocity it was almost easy to miss the desperation in her eyes. Hermione Granger was lost. For the first time in what Draco assumed was forever, Hermione Granger had no plan, and no intention of formulating one. Welcome to the fucking club, Draco thought sourly.

But instead he chooses to ignore her remarks. They weren't friends, and if Hermione realized that Draco Malfoy was trying to comfort her, her big head might implode from confusion. And although that might solve Draco's nagging problem, he guesses its better than being alone. At least now, with the whole wizarding world after him.

He bends down to pick up the rope, wondering what the bloody hell one could even do with so much, and being so transfixed in his work he doesn't hear it. The soft crackle of leaves, the clearing of a throat. Nothing, until the trespasser is all but standing on top of them.

"Hello?"