Four teenagers stood in the grand entry shivering. Draco, Ron and Harry had been broom racing while Hermione refereed. Currently they watched as Snape squared off against King Henry. Both the ghost and the professor had their arms belligerently crossed over their chests.

"This is the fourth time you have overridden my decision for the safety of my wards," growled Snape. "May I remind you, my Lord Gouty Foot, that I am the one responsible for their health and welfare and not you?" He snapped out the last word.

"As long as they exist under the roof of Ashmere, you great, beaked raven, they are my responsibility as well!" One of the teens stifled a laugh and the King shot a sharp grin of triumph their way.

"Shut it, Mr. Malfoy!" cut Snape without even glancing at the offender. Draco choked. "Be that as it may, your pomposity, it is I that must heal their scrapes and bruises and when I say they are to remain in the house I expect my word to be obeyed."

King Henry became even more solid and attempted to intimidate the master intimidator by stepping as close as he could to Snape's face. Snape didn't move at all. Nothing, in his opinion, was more frightening than the Dark Lord. A ghost was a mere inconvenience.

"Gaoler and torturer, you show your true mien! You do intend to imprison these sweet naifs within the walls of this house! Might I remind you that in this century there are no shadows outside these walls prepared to swoop down and destroy their young lives?" His gruff voice was low, "Why not just dig their graves now and throw them in, Sir Raven?"

For a brief second Snape was silent and then he turned to Ron, Harry, Draco and Hermione. "Get into some dry clothes. Now. Dinner will be early tonight." Though his voice was quiet, the command was firm and the quartet quickly made their way up the stairs. When they had vanished to the west wing, Snape faced the King again.

Snape chose to end the insults as he re-stated his position, tightly. "Your Majesty, I must ask you again to respect the decisions and rules I have in place for these children."

Henry drifted away from Snape and then circled around him. "You're strangling them, Snape. You have every second of their lives scheduled and when they do have time just to be themselves, you lock them in their rooms or the parlour. They're children, Snape, not students!" The king shouted angrily and his voice shook the crystals of the chandelier.

"I am doing the best I can for them," Snape ground out.

"You are doing much better than I did for my children, I'll concede that," acquiesced the King. "However, your rules are unbending and you hover over them like a huge, black mother hen. Dictating a schedule each morning, classes and that damned research, then quizzes and tests and essays! They have a rare opportunity, Snape, and you're blind to it. Whatever darkness casts a pall on your futures has stained their childhood. That evil is not here. Allow them a few bruises. Let them breathe the fresh air and to run. Take them away from this house and buy them a sweet."

"It's almost Winter," glowered Snape stubbornly.

"The cold does not steal into the bones of youth as it does ours, Snape," chuckled the King. "Let them be children, now, or you'll have more than sneezes, scraped knees and bruises to deal with. Especially from young Harry." King Henry slapped a firm hand on Snape's shoulder and then faded away, garnering the last word and effectively ending the argument.

Snape sighed heavily and went over to the wide staircase where he sat down upon them. They had only been here two weeks. Wisely he had decided to resurrect their classes in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions (no brewing, as of yet) in the library. It kept their minds occupied and homework tended to keep them out of his way. As far as their research went, with the exception of Miss Granger's help, there was little to be done but to think or scour the Arcahnum library for some tiny clue that might lead to a solution home. Snape had given up in pressing the three boys into service as they did nothing but cause trouble and give him migraines.

"You all right, sir?" Draco had come back down the stairs, now in fresh robes. He sat beside Snape.

"I'm perfectly well!" he groused sarcastically.

Draco smirked, "Yeah I can see the pink of health in your cheeks."

"Thin ice, Mr. Malfoy," Snape warned with a slight smile.

"Professor, I..." Draco hesitated in what he was about to say. Giving advice was one thing, but giving advice to Snape would garner a year's worth of detention scrubbing out mucky cauldrons.

"Spit it out, Draco. I assure you, I'm not in the mood to bite."

"I hate to admit anyone else could be right, but you have been suffocating us, Professor." Snape turned his head and aimed a decidedly acid glare at the boy. Draco held up his hands in surrender. "Just hear me out, sir?"

Snape nodded sharply, but the acidity of his gaze didn't lessen.

"We don't mind the classes, sir. I mean, it's keeping us sharp, and you're a good teacher."

"Drop the flattery, Mr. Malfoy, and get to the point," Snape was getting weary of Draco's verbal dance.

Draco coloured, but persevered. "Fine. You've got every hour of the day planned for us. From the moment we wake up until we go to bed at night. The only time it seems we're free of you is when you're brewing and then the only place we can be is the parlour or our rooms. The other problem is we don't really get to get away from each other unless we're locked in our rooms." He smirked, "Or in Granger's case, the library."

"If you're courting the young lady, Mr. Malfoy, do her the respect of using her first name when referring to her."

"Uhm... yeah..." Draco gave Snape a puzzled stare and then shook his head.

"You do realise, Draco, that if I were to escort you and your Gryffindor compatriots to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade for an outing you'd still be 'suffocated' by my presence, and you'd still be stuck with each other?"

Draco sighed and leaned back so he was supported by an upper step with his elbows on the soft carpet of the stair. "I suppose we have to deal with that, for now." Then the Slytherin boy's grey eyes sparked with an idea. "Sir, what if you took one or two of us at a time, once in awhile."

"Ah. And that is supposed to be more bearable for me than suffering with all four of you at once?" Snape's wearisome sarcasm was too much for Draco. He shrugged, giving up. Sometimes Snape was as stubborn as Potter. "I've got an essay to finish, sir."

Snape said nothing and didn't watch as his godson left his side. After several minutes, Snape rose to his feet and retired to the potions lab; the only place where things seemed to make sense these days.

Harry was leaning against the corridor wall. He'd heard the conversation between Malfoy and Snape. He narrowed his gaze at the son of his enemy.

"Courting, Hermione, huh?" scoffed Harry.

"Shut it, Potty. It's none of your bloody business." Draco tried to step past him, but Harry soon had his wand to Draco's throat.

"She's my best friend, Ferret. Unless the two of you are planning a life here, you'll only wind up hurting her. So leave off."

"I wasn't aware you spoke for Hermione, Pothead. You're assuming a bit much, don't you think? Maybe we just want to flirt and that's it."

Harry advanced upon Draco and jammed the boy up against the far wall. "Leave her..."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry tumbled off to the side and down onto the landing of the grand staircase. Hermione was immediately in his face with her wand, and she was very angry.

"What the hell...?" Harry spluttered indignantly.

"I'm not going to tell you this again, Harry James Potter. What I do and whom I chose to do it with is of NO concern to you."

"He's only going to hurt you, Hermione!" spat Harry.

"And if he does, Harry, then I expect you and Ron to let me come to you and cry on your shoulders. Until then, leave it or I'll hex you into next week." Hermione put her wand away. Ron who had been standing behind her, walked around the fiery Gryffindor and helped Harry to his feet.

"C'mon, mate. You need a game of chess." Harry shrugged off Ron's hand. "No I don't." Picking up his wand he headed down the stairs and disappeared to the west side of the house.

Ron sighed heavily, glanced at Draco and Hermione, and then sauntered after Harry.

For the next three days no one talked to each other. Snape was immediately aware of the problem, but decided, unless he was asked, he would not step into the middle of it. Besides, he rather liked the quiet.

Ron was having problems with the quiet. Harry still spoke to him, but Harry's subject matter always was some insult or slight about Draco or how Hermione was just going mad. On the third day of silence, Ron had had enough.

He and Harry were in the solarium working on their Charms essay when Harry, out of the blue, started in on 'Hermione's Madness'.

"I just realised, Ron, our wands aren't registered. You know what that means?"

Ron didn't glance up from his essay, but replied disinterestedly, "What, Harry?"

"I'll bet Draco put Hermione under an Imperius. With out wands not registered, no one would know he used an Unforgivable."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"What?" Harry dropped his quill.

"Would you give it a rest? Or do I need to hit you with a bludger?" Harry only stared at Ron. The redhead looked up and leaned back in his chair. "The way you've been acting, I'm beginning to think that maybe you're jealous. Have you got feelings for Hermione?"

"What? Me? No! I... Hermione's like a sister, Ron!"

"Are you trying to be a protective brother, then?"

Harry sighed heavily, "I suppose..."

"Well, stop it. I mean, Hermione's smart in a lot of things, but we can't protect her all the time. And, well, sometimes she's just going to make decisions we don't like. Is it worth it to you to lose her friendship over Malfoy, because you will?"

Harry didn't want to listen to Ron. For one thing, he hated when Ron made sense. "But, it's Malfoy!" Harry grimaced. Even to his ears, that whine really sounded lame. "Ron, this isn't a situation of 'if Hermione gets hurt'. She WILL get hurt. He's Slytherin and he's a Malfoy."

Ron was quiet and studied his best friend for several minutes. He was used to Harry's volatile temper, but his behavior was finally beginning to annoy him. It was bugging him that Harry was acting out in such a way that it put him, once again, into the centre ring. If Snape wasn't trying to make amends, he was, or Hermione was.

"You really need to get a grip, mate and you need to grow up."

Harry was so stunned, he couldn't even think of a reply. His best friend was taking the side of the ferret? How could he?

"Look, I don't like Malfoy, all right? I was hoping that maybe Hermione might like me, but she only wants me as a friend. I hate books, she hates Quidditch. Malfoy..." Ron grimaced, then shrugged. "Draco likes a lot of the things Hermione does. They're both good at Potions, they like to read. If Draco were a total git, wouldn't he just hex all three of us in our sleep, or maybe Unforgivable us?"

Harry slumped in his chair and began tapping his quill on the desk. "I think of the times he teased her. Hermione cried for hours after he called her a 'filthy mudblood'. What if he's just playing a game with her, Ron? You know how she is. Hermione has so much kindness, so much compassion in her heart. If Draco's just flattering her and flirting just so he can stomp on her heart later, it will crush her."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Hermione and Draco. Hermione had a large book clutched to her chest and she was listening while Draco was speaking. "...problem with liqourice root as a base in most healing potions is the age old complaint of taste. What I've been thinking..." He stopped as he realized that he and Hermione were being stared at. "Uhm... I think I'll go get a sandwich." He started to lean over to kiss Hermione's cheek, but stopped, whirled around and walked swiftly out the door.

Hermione stood still for a moment, and then headed over to her desk, sat down, opened her book and studiously ignored Ron and Harry.

"Hermi..." Harry was going to try and talk to her, but the look she gave him would have sent even Snape running. She dropped her eyes back to her book and Harry slammed back against his chair with a huff.

Ron leaned over and spoke quietly, "You're not going to fix this until you fix things with Malfoy, Harry."

Harry stared at Ron, pushed at his almost finished essay and then scraped his chair away from the desk. He walked over to Hermione's desk. She didn't look up, but he voiced his frustration anyway. "I'm doing this because I don't want to lose you, Hermione." He then stalked out of the library in search of Draco.

Draco really needed to look up some information in the library, but with the murderous look Potter was giving him, he left. He wandered for a bit, and thought to himself how small this house felt. Malfoy Manor would swallow up four Ashmeres. Glancing up the stairs, he wondered about the third floor. He'd been talking to Hermione about it a couple of times, but Miss-Follow-the-Rules just refused to entertain any speculation about the third floor and she certainly wouldn't go near it.

He climbed the grand staircase to the second floor landing and then sat down on the plush carpet and leaned against the wall. Drawing up his knees, he rested his arms over them and dropped his face into his hands.

"Why Hermione?"

Draco lifted his head and gave Potter a puzzled scowl. "What do you mean, Potter?"

Harry caught the movement of Draco's hand toward his wand, and so he leaned against the balustrade, sliding down until he was sitting on the step he'd been standing on. Draco's hand relaxed.

"All I've ever seen, from the first day we met, is you teasing, belittling, and calling Hermione names. You've made her cry a couple of times. That is, before she broke your nose." Harry let out a chuckle at the memory of Hermione's now famous right hook connecting with Draco's nose.

"Have you heard me deny anything I've done to her, Potter? I still don't get your question."

"I don't like you or trust you. I don't understand why you're pretending to... like Hermione. Is it because she's the only girl?"

"I don't like your tone of voice, Potter, and if you're even implying what I think you're implying about Hermione, I'll blacken both your eyes."

Harry growled in frustration and smacked his head against the balustrade. "I didn't mean that!"

"Look, don't go cracking your head open, Potter. I don't want to be the one to clean up your brains off the carpet." Harry just sneered. "There's nothing I can say or do to convince you that I really do like Hermione. Whether we wind up making a life here, or we go home, I'll do anything I must to keep her safe."

Harry climbed slowly to his feet. "No, there isn't anything you can do to convince me, Malfoy, but I don't want to lose Hermione's friendship. She's too important. I'm going to back off, but I promise you, if you ever hurt her..."

Draco smiled wryly, "Right, you'll kill me. I've got the message." Harry nodded and made his way back down the stairs.

For Hermione's sake, Draco and Harry managed to maintain an acceptable civility, but Harry still found himself wandering off to his room, the solarium, or outside to fly his broom when Hermione and Draco were together. Hermione didn't like it, but at least Harry was keeping his opinions to himself.

Ron didn't like it all, though. He would never admit it to Harry, but he rather liked Draco. He couldn't call him a friend, no. Harry would jinx his ears off if he did. Despite the truce between Harry and Draco, though, the tension was still there and Ron found it intolerable. He had planned to just continue to ignore it until one very late night he headed to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Ron was surprised to find Hermione sitting in the kitchen eating a small sandwich and having a glass of milk.

"How come you're not asleep, 'Mione?" asked Ron as he sat down with a chicken leg and a biscuit from dinner earlier in the evening.

Hermione sighed. "Harry and Draco." Ron nodded. "I feel like I'm just waiting for the axe to fall between those two."

"I know what you mean. I keep going for my wand everytime they run into each other. I almost wish we were back at Hogwarts before..." he stared at Hermione and his mouth dropped open in an 'O' of silent apology.

Hermione just smiled softly. "I know, it's my fault, really."

"What? No...!" Ron dropped the half eaten chicken leg and wiped his hands on his napkin. "No, Hermione, don't say that. It isn't your fault and you know it. Harry, he just gets things into his head. You know how he is."

"I know how you are, too, Ron. You've got no reason to trust Draco, either."

"Wrong. I don't like him. He was a grotty little, superior rich kid growing up. A bully, too. But, I've seen how his dad is toward him when he thinks no one can see. I don't like, Draco, but I've always felt a bit sorry for him. He was a lot nicer before his sister died."

Hermione's eyes widened. "His sister? I didn't know he had a sister." She thought back to the little girl she'd seen Draco talking to in the mirror in the Odd Room. Draco had told her later that he'd wished he'd had a sister, but that had never happened.

"Not too many people remember her. I can't even recall her name, but she was a couple years younger than him. I met her only once. I think she was probably three years old? Maybe four. Mum had taken us all to the park to play on a Saturday and Draco's mum had taken him and his sister there, too."

"He played at a park?" mused Hermione, as she tried to picture Malfoy on swings, or a slide.

Ron snorted. "Yeah, doesn't seem the type, does he? But, me, the twins, Ginny and Draco and his sister were all playing together. He was real protective of her and she just thought he was the perfect big brother."

"Were there other play times at the park, Ron?"

"For us, yeah, tons. We never saw Draco or his little sister again, though. Fred and George thought that maybe Lucius didn't want his kids playing with anyone else. Kind of seems like something he'd do. Anyway," Ron took a bite of chicken, chewed, swallowed and then continued his thought. "I saw Draco with his dad in Hogsmeade, or at the Quidditch matches, or Diagon Alley, but I never saw the little girl, or his mum again."

"So how did you find out she died?"

"First year. Don't know what was with me, but I passed him in the hall one day after breakfast and I just asked. Remember that black eye I refused to explain?" Hermione nodded. "That's how I got it. Told me if I ever mentioned her again, he'd hex me into a wall."

They'd finished their midnight snacking and retired to bed. Ron, though, had decided that something needed to be done about Harry and Draco before he wound up burying them out in the backyard.

A couple of days later Ron found Draco out in the garden practicing transfiguration. His textbook, Transfiguration for the Student, was open at his feet. It was an out of date textbook, but they didn't have access to the texts they used in their time. Draco was attempting to turn a plant into a rabbit and was succeeding in only giving the plant wiggling, white bunny ears. As Ron sat down on the grass across from Draco, light rain began to mist.

"I really hate transfiguration," muttered Draco.

"It's too bad I wasn't better at it. I could have untransfigured Pettigrew before he got away."

"Pettigrew is scum, but he's a skilled wizard. Are you going to get another rat, Weasely?"

Ron shrugged. "Don't really want another rat."

Draco re-cast the transfiguration spell and was finally rewarded with a full size rabbit. "I did it!" Then it poofed and returned to a now very wilted flower. "Damnit!" Draco tossed down his wand and kicked the book away with his foot. "What's up, Weasely? You look like you're about to get one of Snape's migraines."

"Hermione," said Ron simply.

Draco leaned back against the boulder that was behind him. "Yeah? What about Hermione?"

"What you said to me at the lake. You'd have to go back to being... well... "

"A git?"

"Yeah, that. I don't want Hermione hurt," Ron finally blurted.

Draco took a deep breath. "She and I talked about that, Ron. We go back, then as far as anyone knows, she's a mudblood and you and Potter are idiots that need to be fed to Vold... to the Dark Lord."

Ron bristled at hearing the mudblood insult. Draco held up his hands to ward off any possible slug spells.

"I'm not going to mean it, Ron! But, you know the score. My father ever gets wind of me and Hermione, her family'd be dead, so would she, and I might be, too." Draco stared down at the ground and then retrieved his wand. "You know, I saw her on the platform with her parents our first year? That brown hair was just everywhere and her teeth... glad she got those fixed now. Anyway, that day on the platform, she turned and smiled. Right at me. She wasn't looking at anyone else. I'd never had anyone smile at me like that before. For five seconds I had the worst crush in the world over her and then my father told me she was a mudblood." He glared angrily beyond Ron. "I was mad at Hermione for not being like me, for awhile. It's too bad your slug spell backfired. I deserved those nasty buggers."

Ron took out his wand. "New wand. I could hex you again, if you'd like?" He grinned and Draco laughed.

"No thanks, Weasel." The two boys were quiet for a moment and unconcerned about the increased snow falling around them. "Hermione knows what the stakes are, Ron. I have to play a game I've been playing for a long time. Only now I'll be doing it to keep her safe. I wish you and Potter could deal with that."

Ron grimaced. He wondered just when it was they'd all had to grow up so fast. He also wondered if he could truly trust a Slytherin and a Malfoy, at that. "Speaking of Harry and this... well, truce, you two have..." Draco studied Ron with narrowed eyes. "Fact is, even though he and Hermione are talking again and you two are more or less civil to each other, it's just... hmm... it can't last."

Draco nodded sullenly. "I know. I'm this close to just smacking him again. I don't know what else I could do, though. He doesn't get that my word, when it's given, really does mean something."

"Well, to be fair, you've got the Slytherin way of twisting words the way you want."

"You're confusing me with my father," Draco said darkly. "I happen to prefer the truth."

"Really? How much?"

"What are you getting at, Weasley?" asked Draco with caution.

"Would you make an Unbreakable Vow?"

Draco didn't answer right away. He'd actually thought about an Unbreakable Vow, but he didn't know if the magic would hold if they returned to their time. It surprised him, too, that Weasley was asking him to do this. Draco was certain that Potter would have demanded it, and he would have refused just because of Potter's attitude. He nodded, finally. "I would, but... would it hold between our time... thing?"

Ron huffed. "Good question." He glanced up just as lightning arced across the sky. The clouds were darkening and rain began to patter down sporadically. "We ought to go in or Snape'll skin us alive for catching cold. We can ask him, see if he knows about vows."

Once inside, they shook the snow off their robes and headed to the library. Snape was seated at the large desk, working on some notes and Harry and Hermione were working on essays they'd been recently assigned for Potions. Harry looked up and scowled at Ron. He was getting a little too irritated at the camaraderie between the two boys. Ron quickly shrugged at Harry and then followed Draco up to Snape's desk.

"Professor," Draco asked quietly. "Could we speak to you? Privately?"

Snape regarded the two boys for a moment, then closed his book and rose to his feet. "Come out into the entry hall," he said softly. Ron and Draco followed him until they reached the large, open entry hall. "What may I do for the two of you?"

Ron tried to start, "Sir... we... I..."

"Oh let me, Weasel!" sighed Draco. "Sir, we'd like to know if you think an Unbreakable Vow made here would still be enforceable in our time."

Snape had been leaning, slightly, against the wall next to the open door. At the mention of an Unbreakable Vow, he straightened sharply. "Before I answer, do you understand the gravity behind an Unbreakable Vow?"

It was Ron who answered, "If the vow is broken, it means death."

"That is correct, Mr. Weasely. Death. Might I ask what is so important between the two of you that it merits such a thing?"

Between the two of them, Draco and Ron explained what they had discussed outside a few minutes ago and earlier that year at the lake. "Sir, you know very well what I'd be going home to." Snape knew he was referring to much more than just the mere presence of his father. "I know I can act well, and I know that Ron and Potter ought to trust in me to do right thing by Hermione, but there is so much I cannot plan for. I don't want to hurt her, but I'll have to, in school. An Unbreakable Vow would make certain that I couldn't harm her... even under an Imperius curse."

Snape took a moment to consider Draco's words. He already knew that the boy would rather die then to hurt the girl. When he finally spoke, he asked, "The ritual needs to be performed by an adult, as neither of you are of age. Has Mr. Potter agreed to this vow?"

Ron replied, "I haven't asked him about it, yet, but I think he would agree to it."

"Maybe it will show Potter that Slytherins have as much honor as Gryffindors do." This could easily have been an arrogant statement. Something Snape had grown to expect from the boy since his first day in his house. The proclamation was made sincerely and Snape realized that before him stood not a copy of Lucius Malfoy, but the true Draco Malfoy. He felt rather proud of the young boy.

"Let's return to the library, then, and explain what is happening. Stay by me, Mr. Malfoy, in case Mr. Potter gets it in his head to give you a new black eye."

The explanation and discussion took the better part of an hour. Harry actually kept himself under control as he understood what Draco was proposing to undertake. He found himself a little lost for words when he realized that Hermione's trust and friendship was so important to the younger Malfoy that he would risk death in order to keep it.