Harry had bedded down that night full of despair. But it was hard, the next morning, to continue to be that dark and gloomy. In fact, it was downright impossible. He remembered what he'd been like at the Dursley's - put one foot in front of the other, and hope that things will be okay. Well, it was worth a shot, wasn't it? And, as he wasn't at the Dursleys, there was still the chance of him being fed.
Harry had both their saddlebags out and was looking through them, when Blackie came back with a chicken, and enough blood around his snout to put anyone off dinner. Harry gave him a good scritch, and mounted the chicken on a nice spit, which he put on the fire (once he'd found the Matches - how had he bloody not noticed Matches!?), and it made a good smell, a tasty tantalizing smell.
Draco Malfoy woke up, and looked befuddled at Harry Potter trying to... organize the saddlebags? "Harry, what are you doing?"
"Taking stock of our resources," Harry Potter said promptly. "We have three pounds, and a shilling, and a good stock of survival gear." He belatedly pointed to the chicken on the spit, "And our fearless hunter has been successful. So we have breakfast! Which needs turning, you really should turn it..."
Draco scrambled out of his sleeping bag to turn the chicken, which really was on the edge of burning.
"We're close, I know it," Harry said - "I'm starting to smell smoke on the wind." Harry blinked and turned to Draco, "Unless there are Wizarding villages out here?"
Draco Malfoy snorted, "Hogsmeade's the only pure Wizarding village around. Smoke's smoke, and it's most probably muggle."
Harry blinked again, "How are we going to avoid wizards? Won't people be looking for us?" They were questions he probably should have asked earlier, but in all fairness, he hadn't expected to actually be sticking around.
"Needle in a haystack," Draco Malfoy said, "Be invisible by just not sticking out."
Harry Potter frowned, and said, "We'd better fix your hair then - no way someone isn't looking for it."
Draco Malfoy smiled toothily, and said, "Don't be so sure about that - they're more likely to think I'm in Russia - or in pieces, than in a Muggle town."
"True enough," Harry Potter said with a relaxed smile.
[a/n: up next: Snape, again. Miserable, again. Because this story has Snape as the ass-monkey (yes, that's a technical term). Leave a review!]