In the end, Harry resorted to using the Marauder's Map to find Draco. He had searched all of the usual spots but to no avail. Now, looking at the map, Harry looked for Draco's dot. He found it after quite a bit of searching and was surprised to find Draco outside, next to the lake.

Harry glanced towards the window. The snow was falling in thick, white sheets and the wind blew fiercely. "Draco…" he muttered, shaking his head. Harry dropped the map back into his trunk and grabbed his thickest cloak, his warmest gloves, and his softest scarf. There was no telling how much convincing it would take to get Draco to come back inside. Learning that his father had broken out of prison and realigned with the Dark Lord would have pushed anyone over the edge. After all, there was a very good chance that he'd be coming after Draco at one point or another.

Harry brushed past Hermione in the common room as he headed for the portrait hole. She grabbed his arm, and he stopped, turning towards her impatiently. "Have you found him?" Hermione asked urgently.

"Yes, he's out by the lake. I'm going to talk to him now," Harry said, pulling away.

"I'll come," Hermione offered, reaching for her cloak which was stuffed in her school bag.

Harry hesitated. He knew that Draco liked Hermione, but something told him that this wasn't the moment. He needed someone who understood what it was like to have a bounty on his head - someone out there just waiting to get revenge. "I don't think that's a good idea, Hermione," Harry said gently. "Let me talk to him first. Alone."

She frowned, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Go, before he freezes to death."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He headed out the portrait hole and down the stairs. The people whom he passed on the way were mostly huddled in groups, bent over copies of the Daily Prophet. They glanced at Harry as he passed, but he ignored them. He had enough panicked people to deal with as it was.

Outside, the wind howled, stirring up the loose covering of snow over the heavier layer on the ground. Harry pulled his hood up and braced himself against the cold, trudging through he ankle high snow and towards the lake. As he got closer, he could see a dark form huddled by its edge. Draco.

Harry picked up his pace, angling towards his friend who sat in the snow, knees pulled up to his chest. Without a word, Harry sat down next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco's hood turn a half inch towards him, just enough so that he could make out who was sitting next to him. Draco didn't say anything, and Harry didn't push him. He simply sat there, feeling the chill seep in through his cloak, but ignoring it.

The lake was frozen over, and it was a truly beautiful sight. The wind swept the snow up in little swirls before dropping it back down again. Harry looked over at the Forbidden Forest, which looked odd for a reason that he couldn't immediately place. Then he realized that it had no snow. The trees were as tall and as dark as any other time of the year; no white graced their branches or charmed the dark woods to make it seem any less threatening. Harry frowned.

"So he's out," Draco said at last, breaking the silence. "He's going to come after me, I know it. And you. And Professor Snape too, probably."

"It's okay," Harry said evenly. "We can handle it."

Draco turned to look at Harry with anguish in his eyes. "You don't understand!" he said. "You don't know what he's capable of. And if he brings other Death Eaters…"

Harry looked at Draco with his red nose and flushed cheeks. The biting cold seemed to have even more of a profound effect on the color of Draco's cheeks, as pale as they were. Harry replied, "I know. And I said we can handle it. It'll be alright, Draco, I swear."

Looking back over the lake, Draco said quietly. "I wonder if my mother knows."

"I'm sure she does." Harry rubbed his hands together; his fingers were getting numb even through his gloves. "But if it'd make you feel better, we could go call Sirius. I'm sure he'd agree to let her stay at Order Headquarters for a while, or at least to go check on her. We could go right now."

Draco looked relieved. "Yeah, that would make me feel better. Thanks, Harry."

"Sure," he said, standing. Harry brushed the snow off of his cloak and offered a hand to Draco. He took it gratefully. Draco moved stiffly, his muscles numbed from the prolonged cold. For his sake, Harry took it slow as they trudged back up to the castle.

Back in the castle, Harry shut the door with relief. For some reason it seemed like it took twice as long to warm up as it did to freeze outside. "How about we stop by the kitchens for some hot chocolate before we go up to the common room?" Harry suggested. "You must be freezing."

"That'd be good," Draco agreed.

"Great," Harry said with relief. "Maybe they'll have some leftover pies." Draco had run off just before dinner, and Harry had missed it in searching for him. He didn't want to complain or make Draco feel guilty, but he was hungry.

Harry tickled the pear in the painting in front of the kitchen door, which then opened to allow them inside. The house elves were delighted to see them, as always, and when Harry asked for some food and drink, they were more than happy to oblige. Soon, Harry and Draco were seated on little stools next to a wooden table piled high with food. Mugs of steaming hot chocolate were pressed into their hands, effectively warming them.

"Thanks," Harry said. He took a sip, then reached for a pie. Draco simply cupped his mug, staring into the steaming liquid. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" Draco replied despondently.

Harry shrugged. "There's some terrible stuff going around, sure, but there are good things too. Like the Weasley twins' joke shop. Do you know how many laughs they're responsible for? How much mora-"

Draco slammed his hand on the table. "Joke stuff doesn't matter!" he growled. "The Dark Lord and his plan to kill you - that… that does." Draco raised his eyes to Harry's. "Aren't you worried? You've got a target on your back and yet you laugh and joke with everyone else! How do you do that?"

Harry fell silent for a moment. "I laugh and joke because it's what I have to do. We're fighting for the freedom to laugh. If I let the war with Voldemort consume me, I wouldn't be any better than he. My mind would be fixed on death - his death. That's no way to live." He paused. "And I am worried. Of course I'm worried, but seeing the DA progress, and having you and the others next to me… That gives me hope. I've got some great people on my side. People I trust. We're going to get through this."

Draco didn't reply, so Harry kept talking. "You don't have to do this alone, Draco. We're with you. If your father comes, we'll deal with it. Trust me. In the meantime, remember what's important, okay?"

"Yeah," Draco said eventually. "Yeah, okay."

Harry put his cup down, along with his uneaten food. "Come on. Let's go make that call."

—[]—

The common room was quiet when they arrived. Many eyes were glued to Draco as they strode through towards the dorm, but no one said anything. Hermione shot Harry a questioning look, but he shook his head a fraction of an inch as Draco started up the stairs. He mouthed, "Later," then followed Draco upstairs.

No one was in the dorm room yet; it was still fairly early in the evening. Harry pulled the mirror out of his trunk and sat next to Draco on the bed. "Sirius," he said into it.

In a few seconds, Sirius's face materialized. "Harry!" he said in surprise. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Sirius," Harry responded. He was going to make a remark about how quickly Sirius had picked up, but figured that Draco was probably impatient to hear news about his mom. "Hey, Draco's here," Harry said, tilting the mirror so that it reflected him as well. "I'm sure you heard about the breakout?"

Sirius nodded. "You bet. That's a bad sign. Plus, now I can't say I'm the only one who's ever escaped," he pouted.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, tragedy for you. Anyway, have you heard from Mrs. Malfoy?"

"No, I haven't. Do you want me to stop by and check on things?" he offered.

"That'd be perfect," Harry replied. "Or maybe let her stay in Grimmauld Place for a little while, I don't know."

Sirius smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry, Harry, Draco. I'll make sure she's protected. She's part of the Order; we look out for one another."

"You're the best, Sirius," Harry said with a grin.

"Ah, that's better," Sirius replied, seeming satisfied.

Frowning in confusion, Harry asked, "Sorry?"

"My ego needed that boost. It's all good now." Sirius chuckled to himself, then glanced past the mirror. "Listen, I have to go now. Call again soon, okay, Harry?"

"Sure thing."

"Goodnight, Harry. And Draco, don't worry about a thing. We'll take care of it," Sirius said.

"Thank you, Sirius," Draco added just before Sirius's image faded.

Harry glanced over at his friend. "Feel better?"

Draco nodded. "Much."

Harry smiled.

—[]—

In the following weeks, something about Draco's demeanor changed. He started to train harder than ever in DA, learning spells so quickly that he moved on before the rest of the group had mastered the topic. Occasionally, he would lapse into silent brooding until he realized that he wasn't alone, and would force himself to cheer up. Harry watched him with concern. It was good that Draco was channelling his hate of his father into something productive like learning spells, but it didn't seem entirely healthy. Harry could tell that Draco was scared, even though he tried to cover it up when he knew that others were watching.

What might have been most interesting was how Draco's attitude towards Umbridge changed. Previously, he aimed to fly below her radar, or to suck up to her when he could in order to avoid getting on her bad side. Now, he was just as snappy as Harry was, replying to her orders with sarcastic remarks. It was both amusing and concerning. Draco had been given three detentions in one week once, but he didn't seem to care.

He didn't seem to care about much of anything, except for learning as many aggressive spells as he could. Harry watched as Draco sat by the fire, looming over a large, ancient book. He'd caught a glimpse of a few of the pages, but couldn't quite see what sort of book it was. Harry prayed that it wasn't Dark Magic. Draco wouldn't do that, Harry thought with little certainty. Would he?

Harry honestly wasn't sure anymore.