Hermione had been the first to spot the cluster of trees some distance from the cemetery grove, and she'd managed to convince them that the small tents they'd brought along would be better off there, in the shade. "Anyway," she'd said brightly, "this is in the opposite direction from where we came in. If Bill wants to give us any more trouble, I doubt he'll think to look for us here." That had done it for Malfoy - he seemed convinced that Bill was going to hunt him down overnight for daring to lay a hand on Ginny - and the other two had gone along with it, since they couldn't find any indication that they would be disturbed in the night there. So it came as a bit of a shock when, in the middle of the night, there was a knocking at the door of the men's tent and Robby stuck his head in, long ears bobbing gently up and down as if he'd only just stopped running.

Harry was the first to sit up, groaning. "Hello, Robby," he said, waving a hand in a vague sort of greeting. "What's up?"

"Robby is being sent for Mister Draco Malfoy!"

"What? Malfoy? Right, just a minute..." Harry reached up to the bunk above his and nudged Malfoy. "Oi. You. House-elf wants a talk."

Robby shook his head furiously as Draco rolled over, tousled and looking bewildered. "Not a talk, Harry Potter! Robby is being sent to bring Mister Draco Malfoy back to Robby's mistress! Mister Draco Malfoy, is you ready to go?"

"Am I the only one who thinks it's a bit creepy for a house-elf to call someone its mistress?" Malfoy asked, then added, "Rhetorical question, by the way. You, elf. What does she want me for at three in the morning?"

"Robby's mistress did not say, sir. Is you coming, sir? Robby does not want to go back and tell his mistress he has failed..."

Neville sniggered from the other side of the tent. "Stud call, Malfoy. Off you go."

"Shut up." Draco sat up and banged his head on a shelf. "Ow. Look, elf, I'll need a minute to get dressed. Get out of here, and I'll come and fetch you when I'm ready."

"Don't call him elf, he's got a name," Harry said crossly. "Anyway, you don't need to get dressed. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you in... in whatever that is you're wearing."

Malfoy straightened up, avoiding the shelf above him this time, and started down the ladder. "I am not going anywhere in my smallclothes," he said haughtily. "Outside, elf."

"Name."

"Bugger off, Potter. Fine. Outside, Robby. And you can turn around while I'm changing, filthy peeping Tom that you are."

Harry snorted and made a great show of rolling over to face the opposite direction, not turning back until he heard the outside flap of the tent opening. "Be back before sunrise, will you? The last thing we need to add to this mission is Hermione going mad because you come stumbling back all shag-drunk at noon."

"I do not stumble." Draco half-closed the tent, then opened it and began, "Not to mention that-"

"Go away." Harry yawned hugely. "Elf's waiting for you. Back before sunrise or I'll wait until you're asleep and hex a huge chunk out of that pretty hair."

That earned him a sneer and a rather ineffective attempt to slam the tent flap. "Goodnight, then," he sighed, and went back to sleep.