It snowed the second week in December, and Draco was anxious to get Harry outside the castle. As Thursday and Friday crawled by, Draco took every opportunity to climb up onto the sill of one of the deep-set windows on the second floor and haul Harry up next to him.

"I've never seen snow," Harry said late Friday afternoon, his fingers pressed onto the cold glass. Draco placed his fingers next to Harry's and watched the fog on the window retreat from around the warmth of their skin.

"It never snowed where your relatives live?" Draco asked, hungrily watching the fat, wet flakes piling up on the ground. The sun was setting, peeking out from below the edge of the heavy clouds and sending faint gleams of light out over the white expanse. When Draco was little, Mother would let him out just as the snow began to fall, to run for a few minutes in excited joy at the cold wet flakes hitting his face. He had stopped doing that when he turned nine, because Father said it wasn't befitting a Malfoy. Draco figured that since he really wasn't a Malfoy anymore, he could go back to being excited about the snow.

"I don't know if it ever snowed there," Harry said. "If it did, I was probably locked in my cupboard."

Draco's teeth clenched at the nonchalance of Harry's statement and he wanted to say something biting about Harry's relatives, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Don't," Harry murmured and Draco forced himself to relax. After a moment of watching Harry, he turned back to the window.

"Tell me what you see out there," Harry requested.

~HPSSHPSS~

Saturday morning, Draco practically shoved Harry into his gloves and hat after breakfast.

"What's the rush?" Harry laughed as Draco wound the scarf around his neck. "The snow isn't going to disappear before we get out there."

"Everyone else will get to the good snow first!" Draco exclaimed. "We need to go!"

Draco rushed out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry to struggle behind him. "Draco!" Harry called and Draco skidded to a halt, then ran back to Harry.

"Sorry," he panted. "I forgot." He turned his back to Harry. "Put your hands on my shoulders and jump up. I'll piggy-back you outside."

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm not going to be carried like a baby!"

"It's not like carrying a baby, you'll be riding on my back. Boys do it all the time." Draco reached back and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come on!"

Draco felt Harry's hands on his shoulders. "Now jump up and wrap your legs around my waist."

After two fumbling attempts, Harry managed to climb onto his back with the help of one of the tables. He clutched Draco's shoulders as Draco half-walked, half-ran out of the castle and into the snow.

The grounds were filled with laughing students from every year and Draco wound his way through the snow-forts, snowmen and snowball fights to find a clear spot where he and Harry could play without Harry getting in the way of everyone else. He spotted Ron Weasley off in a corner with a couple of other Gryffindor boys and deliberately turned in the opposite direction.

He eventually found a spot near the far edge of the Quidditch pitch and within sight of the front gate to the school.

"Let go," he said and Harry released his grip on Draco's shoulders and slid his legs down until he was standing ankle deep in the snow.

Draco showed Harry how to build a wall of snow, guiding his hands to shape the snow into roughly brick shaped objects and then placing them on the wall and smoothing the seams. Once Harry caught on, he spent the next two hours with a delighted grin on his face. His end of the wall was ragged and wound drunkenly for several feet, while Draco's side was smooth and straight, but Draco decided that it didn't matter as long as Harry was enjoying himself.

By the time Draco called a halt, most of the snow in the surrounding area was scraped up into the wall, dried grass and leaves showing through the thin layer of frost that was left.

Harry took Draco's arm as they made their way around the end of the Quidditch pitch to go back into the castle.

"That was great!" Harry exclaimed. "I didn't know snow could be fun."

"Next time, we'll build a snowman," Draco promised and Harry nodded with a big smile on his face.

"Maybe…" Draco started, but something caught his eye and he turned his head to see who was coming towards them. He felt all the blood rush from his face when he realised that Professor Quirrell, still in his turban but also wearing a heavy winter cloak and thick leather gloves, had let his father into the grounds. They were looking at each other, so there was chance, a very small one, to be sure, that Father hadn't seen him or Harry yet.

Draco grasped Harry's arm and began backing toward the corner of the Quidditch pitch a few feet away. His father's voice floated over to them.

"I was most grateful to receive your invitation, Quirinus," Father was saying in his snottiest voice. It was the voice he used with underlings, Muggleborns and half-bloods. People that would never be allowed into Father's sphere of friends and as such did not deserve respect. It was Father's opinion that simply granting such lowly humans an audience was enough to tarnish his reputation and Father did all he could to avoid it.

"I am honored that you accepted, Lord Malfoy." Draco's eyes widened with shock at the sound of Quirrell's voice. Where was the stutter?

Harry had his head tilted, listening to the voices coming towards them.

"Why…" Harry started, but Draco quickly put a finger on Harry's lips to keep him quiet and Harry nodded his understanding. One, two, three more steps and they were against the vertical beam that comprised the southeast corner of the pitch and Draco led Harry around the corner. When they could no longer see the professor and Father, Draco pulled Harry underneath the tapestries that indicated this corner was reserved for Hufflepuff students.

The area underneath the stands was dim, with only the occasional shaft of weak winter light shining through where the long yellow and black tapestries didn't quite meet. Crisscrossing beams overhead cast even darker shadows along the backside of the tapestries and the ground. Draco pulled one of the tapestries that led to the Quidditch pitch aside to see that the center of the field was empty, although judging from the piles of snow and lopsided snowmen staggered around the area, there had been students here recently.

Draco pulled his head back behind the tapestry and moved Harry's arm to lie around his waist. They began walking away from the sound of the voices as quickly as they could, but it was still far too slow for Draco's peace of mind. Draco had to keep an eye on the ground to watch for debris, and an eye on Harry to make sure he didn't hit his head on something, and an eye on the tapestries to see if (when) Professor Quirrell and Father pulled them aside to look underneath. He just didn't have enough eyes for all of that and as a result, they had travelled little more than a dozen yards when Harry tripped on a forgotten bit of wood and fell to the ground with a soft cry.

"What was that?" Lucius asked.

"P…pr…prob…ably j…just a b…b…bird," Quirrell replied and Draco did not fail to notice that the stutter was back.

Lucius made a disbelieving noise, one that Draco knew intimately. It meant that Father thought Quirrell was an idiot, and was going to find out for himself exactly what was going on underneath the Quidditch stands.

Draco shoved the panicky feeling that surged in his stomach away as the sound of boots crunching through the snow and dead grass came closer and closer.

He pressed his mouth against Harry's ear. "I'm going to pick you up," he breathed. "We need to run."

Harry nodded faintly, his hand over his mouth to keep his breathing as quiet as possible. Draco stood and pulled Harry over his shoulder, so that Harry's arms were hanging down his back.

"Hang on," Draco said softly and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's torso as Draco took off at a dead run.

~HPSSHPSS~

Harry hung on as Draco sprinted, the blood rushing to his head and making him feel dizzy. He pressed his face to Draco's back to try to stop the spinning, but all it did was intensify the feeling that he was going to vomit at any moment.

The sound of Draco's shoes landing on the ground frightened him and Harry kept waiting for Draco to run into something, or trip and fall. At that moment, Harry was sorry that Flitwick's hearing charm had worked at all, and wanted to beg Uncle Sev to cancel it. He felt helpless and weak and hated those feelings. They reminded him too much of living with his aunt and uncle.

The moment Harry dreaded came too soon and the sound of Draco skidding out of control hit his ears just as Harry was flung off Draco's shoulder. He hit the cold, hard ground, forcing the air out of his lungs and causing a flare of pain up his damaged leg. As he gasped for breath, Draco's voice came from just a few inches away. "I'm going to find help," he whispered. "Don't move."

Harry rolled onto his side and curled up, pulling his knees up to his chest. He didn't understand why Draco had suddenly pulled them away from Professor Quirrell and whoever it was he had with him, but he didn't question that it must be bad.

Harry was startled as a voice came from a short distance away. "Draco," the voice said. "How…interesting to find you here."

"Father," Draco's voice sounded strangled, like he was choking on something. Harry clenched his jaw and began to lever himself to his feet, his leg protesting loudly. He reached out a hand, searching for something to hold onto. His sense of direction was shattered and he had no idea where to go. All he knew was that he had to do something to help before Draco's father hurt him. He shuffled forward until his hand touched a beam. Keeping his hand on the beam, he reached forward, hoping to find another one.

"You will come with me," Draco's father was saying. "We have much to discuss." Harry doubted that talking was what Draco's father had in mind.

"I am not going with you," Draco said defiantly, although Harry could hear his voice shaking.

"You have little choice in the matter," Lucius said. "Stupefy!"

Harry cried out and stumbled in the direction of the voices. "What was that?" Lucius growled.

Footsteps came nearer and Harry turned to run, but smacked into the beam behind him. A hand latched onto his shoulder, then just as quickly let go. Harry's forehead exploded with pain and he crumpled to the ground, grinding his palms into his eyes to try to stop the overwhelming agony.

"It's Snape's brat," Harry heard Quirrell say through the raging torment and the sounds of screaming that Harry dimly thought must be coming from him. "He's blind and deaf."

"Leave him," Lucius replied indifferently. "I have what I came for, and if he can't identify us, so much the better."

"We should kill him," Quirrell said softly and Harry was certain that he must have heard him wrong. The spiking edges of the daggers digging into his forehead must have affected his uncertain hearing.

"Killing him would just lead to questions," Lucius's voice was moving away. "I can't afford that kind of attention right now."

The man standing next to Harry moved away. The pain in his head faded somewhat and he pushed to his hands and knees, hearing the two men start to walk away.

"Draco," Harry tried to call out, but his voice was hoarse and faint from screaming. He slowly crawled forward, scraping his hands and knees on the ground, until his hand felt the bottom edge of a tapestry. He used it pull himself up, then stumbled out into the snow. He could feel the sun on his head, so knew that he was outside of the Quidditch pitch.

"Draco!" he called again, slowly pushing one foot out to make sure that nothing was blocking him and then another, with his hands stretched out in front of him. The sound of the men's boots faded, then Harry heard the clang that indicated the front gate had opened, and then closed. Harry dropped to his knees in despair. Draco was gone.

~HPSSHPSS~

Severus entered the Great Hall for lunch, his eyes automatically going to the spot at the Slytherin table where his boys normally sat. The spaces were empty, so he detoured over to the table.

"Miss Greengrass," he said to the girl sitting opposite the empty spots. "Where are Evan and Draco?"

Daphne looked up, carefully setting her sandwich back onto her plate, then used a serviette to wipe her mouth as she swallowed the bite she had just taken. "The last I saw of them, Professor, they were outside in the snow."

"Around the bottom corner of the Quidditch pitch, facing the gate," Millicent put in helpfully.

"Are they in trouble?" Daphne asked, concern clearly written on her face.

"Not unless they've done something wrong, Miss Greengrass." He looked carefully at her face. "Is there something I should be aware of?"

"No, sir," she replied.

Severus nodded in acceptance, then turned and walked to the back of the Great Hall towards the teachers' antechamber to retrieve his spare winter cloak. The boys had probably just lost track of time, but Severus would have some strong words with them about paying attention and not missing meals because they were busy.

Fastening the cloak, Severus opened the front doors to the castle. What had begun the day as a pristine field of white was now a churned up mess of snow, mud and leaves, with hundreds of footprints going in every direction. Severus sneered at the sight, pulled his cloak a bit closer around him and headed off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

As he neared the pitch, he saw a dark blob in the snow near the Gryffindor end of the stands. He thought that it must be an abandoned cloak, but when it moved, Severus went to investigate. When Severus was close enough to realise that it was Harry kneeling in the snow, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his small frame rocking back and forth, he began to run.

"Evan!" he called out and Harry's head snapped up.

"Uncle Sev, help!" Harry cried out.

Severus knelt down and pulled Harry close. "Are you hurt?" he asked, running his hands up and down Harry's arms. Harry was shaking and tears were streaming down his face.

"Draco's gone," Harry said. "His father came with Quirrell and they took him!"

Severus felt a deadly calm cover him like a blanket. He got to his feet and lifted Harry up, settling him on his hip.

"I promise you that we will get him back," Severus said. And Lucius will pay for this, he added silently to himself.

When they reached the infirmary, Severus laid Harry onto a bed. "Stay there while I handle this," he ordered, then strode over to the fireplace.

Throwing in a handful of Floo powder, Severus called out, "Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy's private quarters!" Then he stepped through the flames.

A few moments later, he was spit out into an elegantly appointed sitting room. "Dobby!" Severus called out and the small elf instantly appeared, groveling at his feet.

"Bring Narcissa here immediately," he ordered the quivering elf. "No excuses!"

"Yes, Professor Snape, sir," he said and disappeared with a small pop.

Severus paced the floor, impatiently waiting for that dratted woman to show herself. When the door opened and she strode gracefully into the room, he launched himself at her.

"Where is he?" he demanded, his voice harsh. "Where is Draco?"

Narcissa's hand went to her throat. "He's with you," she said.

"Lucius took him!" Severus's fists clenched with fury. "We must find Draco before Lucius kills him!"

Narcissa blanched. "Pitty!" she called and a diminutive female house-elf appeared. "Where is Lucius?" Narcissa asked.

Pitty wrung her hands. "Pitty is not supposed to say, Lady Malfoy!"

"What are you not supposed to say, Pitty?" Narcissa asked with a sidelong glance at Severus. Severus realised that this was a game that the two of them played frequently.

"Pitty is not supposed to say that Lord Malfoy is in the Young Masters bedroom with Young Master!"

Severus was already hurrying out the door as Narcissa said, "Thank you for not telling me Pitty; you may return to your duties."

The door to Draco's bedroom was locked and warded and several minutes were lost carefully dismantling the wards so that Lucius would not be aware of them falling. Finally the last one was removed and Severus threw the door open and charged into the room with his wand drawn.

Draco was crumpled in a heap on the floor, his outer cloak, jumper and shirt torn from him and flung to the side. His back was a bloody mess and Lucius has his arm raised to deliver another blow with his cane.

"Stupefy!" Severus yelled. The curse hit Lucius in the back with such force that he was thrown several feet, landing awkwardly on his side. Severus paid no attention to him, rushing to Draco's side.

"Get Poppy!" Severus ordered Narcissa and she disappeared out of the room. Moments later, Poppy was at Severus's side, helping him to lay Draco out flat on the stretcher she had brought with her. Together, they strapped Draco to the surface, then levitated him out of the room.

Severus turned to Narcissa. "If he ever comes near my family again, I will kill him."

Narcissa laid a hand on Severus's arm. "If he ever comes near your family again, Severus, I will let you."