Not caring that she was glaring at him, Draco sat down on the camp bed next to her and leaned his back against the wall. She was surprised that he was willing to sit on something so dusty, but then again his twenty years as a tracker meant he'd been forced to endure less-than-luxurious accommodations on many occasions. Hermione sighed, every cell in her body exhausted. More than just the inadequate sleep and the incessant shivering that wouldn't stop, she was weary to her bones. She could feel the end coming. Somehow the end of the year seemed like a significant time to her for reasons she didn't fully understand. What was the ridiculous statement that so many made each January 1st as the year changed? New year, new me. The thought made her laugh. No one ever really changed.