Harry stretched in the morning by the cold fire embers, hearing the answering yip of that big black dog - with the chuffy, scruffy fur that seemed to reek of ill-use. Standing, he strode towards the dog, gathering him in his arms, saying, "What happened to you, pup? Whatever happened to you?"

"Nothing good, that's for sure. Merlin, I'm surprised he's not lamed up," or something worse, Draco thought but did not exactly say.

"You can't say Merlin anymore - not as a swear. It's a proper name in Muggleland, and you'll only draw attention..." Harry Potter corrected, halfway unsure as to what he was doing.

Startled, Draco Malfoy did a doubletake, his eyes widening - his mouth parting, as if he wanted to say something, before thinking better of the whole thing. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked towards the sky.

"Better get saddled, eh?" Potter said, with a smile.

"Better let me do that... see if you can find food."

Looking down at the dog, Potter said softly, "Good thing you know how to hunt, pup." The dog responded with a single, attentive - yet somehow sad - wag of its tail.

Potter began looking through the bag, halfway surprised to be trusted - before recalling that Malfoy really didn't have any choice. Harry Potter still didn't know what to do... He found some dried oats in the bag, and wondered if they were for the horses. Well, at any rate, they did still have some water.

"Are these for the horses, Malfoy?" Potter asked, as he watched Malfoy try to settle the saddle on the horse's back - without having the horse toss it off in disgust.

"Apparently today we dine like we have four hooves and a tail, Potter." Malfoy said, in a decent approximation of his normal drawl - the personification of arrogance.

"Nice" Potter said, as he poked at the embers, feeding them a bit of wood. It would take a while to cook the oats, anyway. When he dug into the bag for more, he noted that there was a foolscap, and that it said, "Moody's AllInclusive Muggle Lifesaving Equipment." Huh, Harry thought, I wonder why he's got that...?

As Harry Potter stirred the oats, he looked up at Draco who was adjusting the saddle by kneeing Harry's ride in the gut. Like a flash, Draco tightened the saddle - Harry thought, he really does know what he's doing... "Draco..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"What is your house like? I've never been."

Draco smirked, before smiling, "That's your own fault, you know - I asked you to be my friend."

Harry Potter nodded, not taking offense - "Still, I'm curious."

Draco said, "Mostly white, particularly from the outside. Someone liked marble, I suppose."

"you didn't learn architecture like you learned lineages?"

"I didn't learn architecture like I was supposed to learn lineages, you mean." Draco said with a crafty smile, "I was a terror to my tutors, you know."

"Worse than the Weasley twins?"

"Of course - I'd drive the hired help into despair, and then when they, in frustration, were ready to resign - exasperatedly telling my mother exactly how impossible I was." Draco was mimicking the heated one-way argument, as Potter stifled his laughter, "Then, and only then, would I stroll in. My mother would quiz me, and I'd answer every question perfectly." Draco grinned and then said soberly, "none of them lasted a week past the argument. They'd see me smirking, and never be able to tell what was coming next."

"You know the worst part?" Draco said with a merry grin, "I never did a thing - the house elves were delighted to help their young master chase the obviously incompetent tutors out of the house."

"You got house elves to play pranks?" Harry said, his eyes lighting up with impending mischief.

"Of course, didn't you-?" Draco Malfoy's voice broke, as his eyes clouded slightly, "Nevermind, forget I asked." Straightening, his voice resolved back to the silken tones Potter was used to.

Draco continued, "My house is mostly white, with glints of green and gold. My bedsheets are green - but not because of Slytherin. I just like the color of grass, and it reminds me of being outside."

Harry Potter grinned in sympathy, recalling, "I think my happiest moments have been outside. Probably playing Quiddich."

Draco carefully hid a frown, smiling gently - and trying very hard not to smirk. "My house is so big, that I was often lost as a kid. Once, I thought I saw a ghost, and I ran away so hard that I wound up in another wing of the house entirely. Of course, that was because the 'ghost' was running after me."

Potter listened carefully.

"It was my godfather, of course. I hadn't even realized he was in the house - and for such a big man, he's quiet on his feet." Draco continued, "Would you believe what he told me, when he figured out I had thought he was a ghost? Draco, you should know that none of the Malfoys have ever had dark hair." Draco chuckled with glee, and Potter smirked, his laughter coming out as a gentle snort.