A/N: Ok, so here's the second chapter. Since I fixed the first one, and lost the second one I rewrote this one. Sorry for the delay...if anyone cares. Wicked

Draco Malfoy grimaced as he approached the camp his group of soldiers were staying at. He was dirty, grimy, stunk and his hair was matted thick with blood. His only solace was that Potter was not in chanrge of their regime, or he'd be digging a place for their loos right now. It could be worse, he told himself, you could be serving Voldemort and married to Pansy Parkinson. A brief shadow of doubt swam through his mind. Would it have really been that bad? "Yes," he said aloud to himself and knew he meant it. More than likely he would be dead by now. While it was true that the was was on an even field, the Death Eaters had been taking larger casualties than the Order.

Entering the tent he rummaged through a trunk for clean clothes for a shower. He shared the large tent with two other room mates. Potter and Weasley. They were both gathered in a section of the tent that was supposed to be the sitting room. Really it wasnothing more thanthree chairs and a fireplace.

"What are you doing Malfoy?" Weasley questioned while he nibbled on something that looked like treacle fudge.
"Showering," Draco sniffed, really, the flaming imbecile.
"What Ron here means is why are you showering when we are just going to be called out again, and you'll end up just like that. Again," Harry supplied.
"B-but look at me," sputtered Draco, "I look..."
"Gross?" Ron supplied, "Don't worry Malfoy, you look that way all the time."
"Look at you Weasley," Draco snapped back, he really was becoming angry with the delay, he could just feel the dirt soaking into his pores, "You look as if you haven't bathed in a week. Its an atrocious...though fitting look for you." Ron made to lunge at him and Draco jerked back out of the way as Potter came between them both.
"Knock it off Ron," Hary commanded, "He's just trying to get a rise out of you." Draco grew bored with them both and went for his hot shower.

When Draco returned from his shower he found both boys sprawled across their beds reading letters. This wasn't unusual as they both had amny friends and recieved letters all the time. This was different because waiting on his bed was a rather thick green envelope with his name gracefully written across the front in silver ink.

He opened it slowly, scared that his penpal would refuse to talk to him all together,and half expecting some sick prank from Potter and Weasley. If he was waiting for the paper to come alive and try to eat him he was disappointed. The same tidy scrawl stared up at him.

To the Esteemed Draco Malfoy,
Dumbledore always was and intelligent man. One whom I trust completely. Or almost completely. I don't fully trust anybody...anywho, if Dumbledore believes it ok for me to converse with you then I would be more than happy to write to you.
I shall tell you now that it is dually noted that you are not a Death Eater. Word about the castle does not speak fondly of you though. And I do remember meeting you my first year. I believe you and two gits who I never can quite seem to remember cornered me in the corridors. I think you called me a whiney, a sharp nosed trout, pushed me down and threatened to feed me to a Grim. Or am I mistaken? (Draco smirked at the memory, he hadn't remembered until she mentioned it.) As to the content of your letters, write what you wish. But I promise to read every word, no matter how horrid or detailed it is.
I should be going, I begin helping at St. Mungoes with Ginny Weasley tomorrow.
Sincerely, The Honorable Celeste Lancaster

p.s. I sent you some sugar quills. Do you have any requests for items?

Draco smiled happily, and pulled out a new sheet of parchment.

To the Honorable Celeste Lancaster,
Send peanut butter and bananas...