They flew in silence for a long time before either of them said anything.

Finally Hazel began to cry and Hermione said quietly, "Can we land somewhere? I think she's hungry."

Draco nodded and set them down at the edge of a field he judged sufficiently far from any houses or large roads. Some cows were grazing in the grass on the other side of the fence.

Hermione climbed stiffly off the broom and stretched her legs while Draco freed Hazel from her sling. He held her up to see the cows, but she wasn't interested. She continued to cry until Hermione took her from him and sat down on the ground to put her to her breast.

Draco sat in the grass next to them and watched.

Silence descended again.

Grasshoppers chirped, birds sang, one of the cows went "moo", and Hazel from time to time made tiny smacking noises with her lips. Hermione stared into space, completely still apart from her hair, which rippled lightly in the wind.

"Hermione..." Draco started tentatively. "Are you... alright?"

She was quiet for so long that Draco thought she wasn't going to answer, but just as he was about to reach out and touch her shoulder she spoke. "No. No, I really don't think I am."

"Hermione, I'm so, so sorry about your par--"

"Can we not talk about this right now?" she cut him off. "I just..." She shook her head and looked at him for the first time. "Please?"

"Okay." He nodded.

Hermione nodded as well, more to herself than to him, and absent-mindedly stroked Hazel's cheek with her thumb.

They barely exchanged more than five words after that until late at night when they finally arrived at Hogwarts, where it was snowing.

Draco dismounted and shook out his cloak, one side of which he threw over Hermione as she came to stand beside him. He grabbed his broom with the hand which was less numb from the cold, and they went inside.

The castle was eerily quiet, with dim torches on the walls providing the only light. For some reason Draco was suddenly reminded of the day he had got the squid meat and Hermione had found him bleeding onto the floor tiles near this very spot... it seemed like an eternity ago.

"We'd better try Dumbledore's office first, I suppose," he said out loud.

"Yes," said Hermione. She was shivering. Draco took her icy hands in his slightly warmer ones and led the way.

Onwards and upwards.

They eventually reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office and Draco stopped short, realising that he had no idea what the password was. He turned to Hermione. "Do you, um...?" he asked, gesturing at the stone creature.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Liquorice allsorts," she said to the gargoyle, and it moved to grant them access. Relieved, Draco led her onto the moving staircase.

When they reached the top there were a lot of rather loud voices coming from inside the office. Draco and Hermione looked at each other, and then he turned back to the door and knocked. It didn't sound like they were having an important conference in there, after all, more like a...

Party, Draco thought, taking in the balloons and paper hats as the door opened to grant them access. The conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt as its occupants took in Draco and Hermione's damp and bedraggled forms.

"Mr Malfoy...?" Dumbledore enquired after a moment, stepping toward them out of the crowd of teachers.

"Sir," Draco said boldly, trying to mask his sudden, inexplicable nerves. "We need your protection."

"Protection from whom?" the headmaster asked, sounding to Draco's ears only mildly curious as to the life-and-death situation Draco's small family was in.

Draco's eyed flicked warily to Snape before he ploughed on. "My father, sir. He found out that I was Hazel's father and he tried to kill her and Hermione." He glanced at Hermione and continued more slowly, "He murdered her parents."

McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth as all the eyes in the room turned to regard Hermione, who swallowed and gripped Draco's hand more tightly.

"Please," Draco said to Dumbledore. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go."

Dumbledore paused, and looked at McGonagall. "Minerva," he said quietly. "Please would you escort our refugees downstairs so that they can tidy themselves up."

McGonagall nodded without hesitation and turned to head for the door. Draco and Hermione followed.

The professor led them down several flights of steps and along some of the lesser used corridors, and they found themselves standing outside Hermione's room. McGonagall glanced at her before opening the door, and Draco gently pulled Hermione inside and towards the bed.

Hermione sat down slowly, and McGonagall moved forward to help her out of her cloak, which was dripping with melting snow. Draco removed his own outer layers of clothing and set about the task of freeing himself and Hazel from the sodden sling.

His daughter was starting to whimper at the disturbance, so he disentangled her quickly from the wet straps and held her against his chest, rocking her gently.

He noticed McGonagall looking at him.

"Does this mean you're going to help us, then?" he asked, trying and failing to completely mask his anxiety.

Her features softened into something which looked almost like pity. Draco had never seen her look like this before and wasn't quite sure how to take it.

"Of course we'll help you, child," she said, in a kinder voice than she had ever spoken to him with before.

"...Oh," he said. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll go and find you something dry to wear," McGonagall said. Her eyes flicked towards Hermione. "Take care of her," she told him, as if she was leaving something unspeakably precious in his care. As if he didn't know how precious Hermione was.

He nodded at McGonagall, and she left.

Risking putting Hazel down for a moment now that she had settled a little, he finished removing the sling and divested himself of all but the most necessary of his cold, wet clothes. Then he picked Hazel back up again and sat down next to Hermione.

She was still as a statue, staring fixedly in front of her as if she had been frozen in ice.

A single tear was moving slowly down her cheek.

"Hermione..." Draco said quietly.

When she didn't reply, he put an arm around her. A second tear fell more quickly than the first.

Draco lightly pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she squeezed her eyes shut and wept.

He held her while she cried, while she wailed, while she whimpered. Neither of them spoke a word.

He wiped her tears with his fingers as they began to slow, kissed her forehead, her cheek, her temple, trying uselessly to ease her pain.

When McGonagall returned, Hazel and Hermione were both asleep in his arms.

The professor looked at them, then walked over to the bed to deposit an armful of clean robes. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office when you've changed," she informed him quietly.

"But Hermione..." Draco protested.

"You may leave her as she is," McGonagall assured him. "You're the one the headmaster wants to see."

Draco hesitated, then nodded. "Alright."

McGonagall nodded in return, and left him to get changed.

Carefully, Draco manoeuvred Hermione's sleeping form off of him and into a more or less comfortable position on the bed. He gently deposited Hazel in her cradle, then took the robes McGonagall had brought off the bed and pulled the covers over Hermione.

He examined the clothes and selected the larger of the two sets of worn, black robes to change into. The other he left on the back of a chair for Hermione.

Then he went to see Dumbledore.

Most of the other teachers had vacated the headmaster's office when Draco arrived, though there was still the odd party hat abandoned in the corner or balloon floating forlornly near the ceiling. Dumbledore was sat at his desk, with McGonagall standing behind him and Snape leaning against the wall off to the side.

"Sir," Draco said in greeting.

"Mister Malfoy." Dumbledore nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Please, take a seat."

Draco did as he was told. On the desk in front of him was a large bowl of something steaming and rather delicious smelling. He looked up in question.

"Please eat, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore said kindly, gesturing with his hand. "And while you do so, if you would be so kind as to tell us exactly what has been happening.

"Yes, sir." Draco swallowed a large spoonful of the thick broth, and began to speak.

By the time he had finished, McGonagall's face was looking even more pinched than usual, and Snape's, Draco was sure, a shade paler.

Well. That was interesting.

Isn't Snape on our-- I mean, the Dark Lord's side?

Before Draco could pursue this thought further, Dumbledore spoke. "Mister Malfoy, I very much commend your courage in coming to Miss Granger's rescue. The two of you and your daughter are now under my personal protection. You will all be safe within these walls."

A nasty thought suddenly reared its head in Draco's mind.

The spell...

But no, he couldn't tell Dumbledore, not now that he had given them refuge. What if he changed his mind when Draco told him what terrible plan he had been a part of?

No. He couldn't risk it. He would have to find a way to stop it himself.

"Now," Dumbledore said, "Far be it for me to condone what some I am sure would call, at best, a controversial relationship, but for the time being I believe it would be best if you were to move into Miss Granger's room. I daresay some of your Slytherin housemates will not be too kindly disposed toward you at the moment."

Draco swallowed. "Yes, sir." Dumbledore was certainly right about that one.

"Very well." Dumbledore nodded. "You may leave."

"Thank you, sir." Draco got up, and went back downstairs to lie down next to Hermione.

However, unlike her, he couldn't sleep.

What do I do about the spell?

He agonised over the problem for days, all the while trying to keep up a façade of, if not happiness, at least coping for Hermione. She was slowly returning to normal, but Snape, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey -- everyone, really -- kept telling him that it would be a long time before she really recovered. If she ever did.

The beginning of term was fast approaching, and he had no idea how to sabotage the spell. If only he had been told how it worked, instead of just how to make it work... He was going to have to do something before the holidays were over and everybody started coming back, he'd never be able to work undisturbed in the Slytherin common room otherwise... Work undisturbed doing what, though?

In the end he decided that there was nothing for it but to go down there and see what he could work out.

He left Hermione and Hazel playing on the floor of their room and armed himself with books and spell ingredients which seemed like they might prove useful. Then he went down to the Slytherin dungeon.

He didn't hear the voices until it was too late.

Blaise, Pansy and Joshua (Joshua! They had replaced him with Joshua!) looked around at him from their places by the fireplace. Then Joshua raised his wand and said, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The last thing Draco saw was three faces grinning at him cruelly.

Blackness.

The next thing he was aware of was a bright light.

"Draco."

Snape's voice.

Draco squinted, and managed to make out the Potions Master's face, hovering above him. Further strenuous eye activity revealed that he was in the hospital wing.

"Ng," he said.

Madam Pomfrey appeared at his side. She propped him up and held a glass of water to his mouth. "Drink this," she instructed.

Draco took a sip of the water, and tried again to speak. "Spell," he said. "Dammit."

"What are you talking about, boy?" Snape demanded. "Who did this to you?"

"Joshua," Draco spat. "Stupid git. And Pansy, and Blaise, they were doing the spell..."

"What spell?" Snape sounded frustrated.

"The one the Dark Lord told us to do." Not until after he had said this did Draco realise that he might not have wanted to.

"Draco, listen to me, this is important." Snape leaned closer. "What does the spell do?"

Draco felt his brow furrow. "You mean you don't know?"

Whose side are you on anyway, Professor?

Snape's expression tightened. "No. Tell me."

"It... it's meant to weaken the charms protecting the castle," Draco said hesitatingly. "So the Dark Lord can come in and... and blow it up. I gave a lock of my hair for a Polyjuice Potion, so he could disguise himself as me and get in." A sudden horrible question gripped Draco. "What's the date? How long have I been Petrified for?"

"It's the eighth of January. You've been missing for four days."

Draco sighed with relief. "It's all supposed to happen on the seventeenth of February."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement. "I shall inform the headmaster."

"Professor..." Draco said as he began to walk away.

Snape turned his head.

"So... you're on his side?" Draco asked.

Snape gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and left.

Moments later Hermione ran in.

"Draco!" she cried, running over to hug him so hard she nearly cut off his air supply. "Draco... God, Draco, I thought I'd lost you as well..."

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice muffled by the cloud of hair covering most of his face.

"What happened?" she asked, finally pulling away far enough for him to see her properly. There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling.

He was just trying to work out how to tell her everything when Madam Pomfrey walked over. "I'm afraid your questions will have to wait, Miss Granger. I need to perform some tests on Mr Malfoy to make sure he isn't suffering from any side effects. He should be free to leave in an hour or two."

Hermione looked disappointed, but she nodded. "I'll see you later," she said, kissing him lightly before leaving.

Draco lay back and let Madam Pomfrey do her tests.

His mind whirled while she worked.

So. Snape was working for Dumbledore. Draco had told Snape about the spell. Snape would tell Dumbledore. What would Dumbledore do?

Draco was very relieved when Madam Pomfrey gave him a clean bill of health and let him go so that he could find Hermione and escape his thoughts. He tried to keep everything but Hazel and Hermione from his mind as he made his way back to their room as quickly as he could without running.

And then, as he was walking past the main staircase, he saw something truly frightening down in the Entrance Hall.

Himself.