AN: I'd like to apologize to everyone who's been following this fic. I got carried away writing back-history (which I hope you've taken the time to enjoy, as it is now posted in its entirety - 10 solid stories of it which you can find by clicking on Daintress (above). I understand many of you may have read this chapter before, when I was still struggling with how best to post this story, so I will be uploading 14 today as well. Thanks for sticking with me - I know I've pushed the limits on everyone's patience. But there's more to come, for sure, and it's all complete, and we're all caught up now. On with the show.....

Chapter 13 - Still Straining

Draco followed them up several flights of stairs, wondering why, all of the sudden, Potter wanted to keep Weasley from hexing him. It would be a pity if baiting Weasley didn't result in anything more interesting than a conversation with Potter. Most of the fun he had at this place was because they were so easy to draw into duels.

He stood looking at the picture of the fat lady. Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone up to their dormitories to get their things. Harry had even offered to let him come up. 'Probably to help him carry his trunk!' Draco thought to himself. But he had declined. He found himself wondering if, for the first time, he was going to be able to make a real friend. He was 16 years old now, and Gregory Goyle was the only friend he'd ever had. Lately he had started to wonder about him, though. He knew that they were both in the same boat, when it came to pressure to take the dark mark. He made a mental note to write to Goyle as soon as he could. He thought about talking to Crabbe as well, but decided against it. Crabbe got along a lot better with his dad than Draco and Gregory did with theirs.

His thoughts were interrupted when the portrait swung open. "Honestly, don't you two READ?" Hermione was asking in an incredulous voice. Draco smiled inwardly. 'No, they probably don't,' he thought. Hermione's trunk floated serenely behind her as she headed down the stairs. Draco looked after her a moment. She hadn't spoken to him at all except that little outburst in the hospital ward. Actually, he realized that was more of a general exclamation. She hadn't spoken to him at all.

'Perhaps she's still upset about being called a mudblood for the last 5 years,' he thought to himself. He shook his head. What did he care if she didn't speak to him anyway? His thoughts were interrupted again as Harry and Ron came out, pitifully dragging their trunks behind them and making a lot of noise.

Draco smirked. "Locomotor Trunk," he said lazily, pointing his wand at Potter's trunk, which lifted silently off the ground.

Harry turned to look at him. Was that really Malfoy who had just helped him out? "Thanks, I guess I'd better remember that one." Ron performed the charm on his own trunk and the three boys followed Hermione down the stairs. When they arrived in the Divination classroom, Draco found that his trunk was already there. Four small tents had been set up as well.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Tents?" he asked disdainfully. Hermione was the only one among them who had ever been camping in actual muggle tents. Harry and Ron had experienced tents that were like cottages inside at the Quidditch World Cup, but Draco had never been required to sleep outside. It was bad enough that he had to sit on the floor – er - ground during Divination.

Again, Hermione turned to him and was about to say something when Harry's head turned sharply toward her and she stopped and thought better. Finally she spat, "We can find you something else if you want, Malfoy." Then she turned her back to him and lit the little pile of twigs that someone had placed between their tents, which were configured to face one another and the fire.

He felt the heat rise to his face. Hadn't he already apologized to her?! Before he realized what he was doing he had his wand out. Ron was on top of him instantly and they both fell to the ground. He hadn't realized that Ron had gotten so tall in the last year. Ron got in one good swing before Harry pulled them apart. Draco sat up, rubbing his jaw. He'd had worse. Ron glared at him for a moment, then went to help Hermione.

"Were you planning to hex her?" Harry asked quietly. Draco looked up at him and saw that the boy had picked up his fallen wand. He was twirling it dangerously between his fingers. Draco looked away and stood.

"I wasn't planning to but I probably would have," he snapped. Harry nodded, his green eyes never leaving Draco. It made him very uncomfortable.

"Maybe she wouldn't bait you so often if you'd try being nice to her. We didn't get along with her very well at first either, you know."

Draco narrowed his eyes. If this git thought he was going to go out of his way to be nice to that filthy mudblood he had another thought coming. His anger seemed to melt, however, when Harry handed him back his wand. He took it distrustfully.

"How was I supposed to know she'd take offense just because I don't like tents?" he whispered suddenly with a glance at Ron and Hermione, who were peeking into the tents. Harry's eyes widened. He had expected Draco to say something degrading about Hermione or possibly stomp off. He had definitely NOT expected him to be upset about offending her.

"Hey Malfoy," Ron said suddenly, straightening up. "I guess you're in luck. These have been magically stretched and each one has a cot." Ron smirked. "It looks like your royal -"

"Really, Ron? Let's see!" Harry cut him off loudly and headed over to the tents with a sideways glance at Draco. Ron was scowling at him, but he didn't care. He stuck his head into the tent Hermione had disappeared into. She was resting comfortably on her cot with a book already propped open in front of her.

She looked up. "I'm staying in here until that conceited prat is asleep!" she hissed. Harry looked behind him to be sure Ron and Draco weren't already fighting, then went the rest of the way into the tent and sat cross- legged beside her cot.

"I don't think he meant to be conceited this time, Hermione. Maybe he's just really never slept in a tent before." She was looking at him as though he'd turned purple and sprouted horns, but he continued. "I mean, he was raised by Lucius, it's going to take him some time to get passed that. He DID just send Lucius back to Azkaban."

Hermione seemed to consider it, looking at him hard, but then she turned away and immersed herself in the book. Harry sighed and went back outside the tent. Ron and Draco were each sitting in front of a tent on opposite sides of the fire. Draco was writing and Ron was glaring at him through the flames.

Harry went to the last remaining tent and forced his trunk inside. He took out the program from last year's Quidditch tournament and went to sit by Ron. He found out shortly that Ron wasn't speaking to him. But he'd seen him glancing at the program, so he set it down and walked over to Draco instead.

"Who are you writing to?" He plopped down as Draco turned to look at him.

He almost told him it was none of his business, but reminded himself that Harry had pulled Ron off of him a moment before. He rubbed his jaw unconsciously. "Goyle. He's the only person in that entire house that I don't want to see working for the Dark Lord." His voice was bitter. It wasn't easy to admit that he didn't care about any of his house-mates.

"I thought Goyle couldn't read," Harry said without thinking. Across the fire, Ron sat up a little straighter, and Harry quickly looked the other way.

To their surprise, Draco laughed. "I only said that to scare you into thinking you'd blown your cover." Harry was amazed at the change that came over the blond boy's face when he smiled a legitimate smile.

"You mean you knew it was us?" Ron asked in spite of himself. "Why didn't you turn us in? Why would you have let us in your common room in the first place?"

"Well," he began, "I was pretty impressed that you'd managed that potion at all, actually. I messed it up the first time I tried it. Besides, I wanted to know why you were impersonating Slytherins. Letting you question me was the only way I was going to find out." He looked at the amazed looks on their faces.

"Honestly, you couldn't even give Pratty Percy the Perfect Prefect the right NAMES!" He exclaimed.

Harry looked quickly at Ron, worried that he might be offended by Draco's name for Percy. Ron, however, only snorted, then got up to come and sit with them. Hermione stuck her head out of the tent, and Harry spoke up immediately. "Hermione made the potion, we only watched."

"Of course she did, she's the best student in the school. I know, because Father kept track of her grades, and every time mine were worse than hers, he'd - " Draco stopped talking and looked back into the fire. "He'd be furious," he finished quietly. He snapped his head up suddenly and continued in his usual sneer. "I certainly didn't think either of YOU made it!" Harry and Ron were silent. They had both met Lucius Malfoy, and they could imagine what a man like that would consider adequate punishment.

"No wonder you hate me," Hermione said quietly as Draco stared back into the fire.

Suddenly he stood. "I'm going to bed," he said firmly. He hated the stillness, but knew he didn't really want to discuss his father either. He took his letter and lay on the cot, trying not to listen as the three friends whispered by the fire.