The cold December wind was whipping around him. He had stopped feeling his fingers and toes a while ago and the pain in his ears was starting to get unbearable. He really should have grabbed a cap in his rushed departure, having long lost the strength for heating charms. The broom stick was pressing between his legs uncomfortably. As much as he loved flying, more than three hours were making him wonder why he had ever liked it in the first place. The good thing about the pain was that he stopped overthinking.

It was more or less a spur of a moment decision after he had spent half of the night tossing and turning. It was definitely not a tranquil Christmas for him.

His blue, shaking lips and his generally borderline numb body were screaming at him to finally stop flying, to get in front of a nice, warm fireplace and drink some hot chocolate. He was not sure how long it would take until he was so numb that he would fall from the sky. As much as he despised his life right now, he was not ready to die.

He let his broom drop lower carefully until the clouds were not shielding him from the sight of the world anymore. It was early in the morning and the street lights were turning off now as the fog slowly lifted from the tiny world below him. He could make out a small city. He reckoned it was not the best idea to land where many people could see him. There was a small wood covering the east and north side of the city. For a moment he thought about searching for refuge there, but the image of himself alone in the woods made him turn away quickly. There were houses scattered in the outskirts, far enough not to see each other but close enough for walking distance.

He took a chance and lowered his himself close to a rather big wooden building. The lower he got, the more he noticed the... interesting architecture. It looked rather rickety and Draco was sure that it was a home of magical folk. Without magic, this house would have collapsed at once. It was a huge contrast of his own home. For a moment, Draco thought about looking for another refuge, but the thought of flying further made him feel like fainting.

So he lowered himself onto the ground and approached the house carefully. He had no idea who it belonged to. The more the thought about it, the more wary he got. Those where wizards and witches, probably. And if they found out why he was not at home with his family, they could send him either to Azkaban, or straight to The Dark Lord, depending on their world view.

He was quivering and shaking from coldness and fear. He had two options. Either, fly away again and probably freeze to death, or building up the courage to knock on the door and see what happened. If the inhabitants did not want him there, he could still fly away and freeze to death. With that in mind, he walked up to the wooden door more determinedly.

Reaching the crooked door, he lifted his hands... before loosing his nerves again. His clattering teeth and shivering skin were screaming for warmth, but his heart was beating fearfully in his chest. Fear might be the dominating emotion during his past half year.

Before he could think of another plan, though, his decision was made by someone else.

He hear faint voices on the other side of the door, a voice of a man shouting "Bye, dears." And suddenly, the door opened. The tall, thin man almost walked him over as he stood there frozen, from the cold and from the shock. The tall man took a step back. He had balding red hair and a confused frown on his face. "Draco Malfoy?"

Draco looked back at the man in fear. He recognized him immediately. Arthur Weasley was working for the ministry, and he was fighting for the light side. He would send Draco straight to Azkaban. And The Dark Lord would get him out to use him for his purposes. He would be right back to square one, but worse, because he had tried to escape.

"Arthur?" A female voice broke their stare and a quite corpulent, but friendly looking woman appeared behind Arthur Weasley, trying to look over his shoulder. "What's going on? Why are you not leaving? I thought you were in a rush."

"Umm..." Mr. Weasley said eloquently and moved to his side to allow his wife the sight.

"Oh, Merlin." Molly Weasley exclaimed, grabbing Draco's shoulders and pulling him inside. "Dear boy. You're freezing. You're gonna get sick. Come here-"

"Umm, Molly, dear." Arthur interrupted, "Maybe you should be more careful. He is Lucius Malfoy's son. This could be a trap. You don't know what he wants-"

"Oh nonsense." Mrs Weasley said firmly, making Draco sit down on the sofa close to the fire. "This poor boy is like an ice block. It doesn't matter whose son he is. Not helping him would be equal to murder. I refuse to leave him outside like this." She but a woollen cap on his head and a fuzzy blanket around his shoulders. "Now warm up. I'll get you some soup and hot chocolate."

Before Draco could thank her or say anything else, she had already disappeared into another room, which Draco assumed to be the kitchen. There was a tense silence in which Draco did not dare to move or look anywhere but the dancing, orange flames. He felt the sofa dip beside him and tensed. He glanced at Mr Weasley before quickly averting his gaze from the man's sceptical one.

"I'm really in a rush." Mr Weasley said quietly, probably so his wife would not hear. Draco could hear her cluttering around the kitchen. "But I can't leave if I don't know if my family is safe. So tell me, Draco." He leaned closer. "What are you doing here? How do I know I can trust you?"

Draco cleared his throat before answering, his eyes not leaving the warm, moving fire. The pain in his ear slowly disappeared and he was starting to feel his face again. "I don't have bad intentions, sir. I didn't know you live here. No one knows I'm here." Suddenly, realization hit him and he turned to Mr Weasley wide eyed. "Please don't tell him. If you see my father in the ministry, please don't tell him where I am."

Mr Weasley eyed him sceptically, "And why not? Why should I cover for you? What have you ever done for us except for insulting my family and bullying Harry?"

Draco flinched back and looked down on his lap. He eyed the old, grey blanket he was clutching. His fingers were loosing the red colour and he was starting to feel them again, although they hurt. "I..." Draco was at the loss of word. "I don't know what to do. What... what do you want to hear, sir?"

"I don't want to hear you talking yourself out of it." Mr Weasley said strictly, but Draco did not flinch. It was nothing compared to the scoldings of his own father. "I want to know why you're here and why you expect us to trust you in a home that you're looking down at."

Draco lifted his gaze to Mr Weasley's calculating one. He wanted to protest, but they both knew he would be lying. The Weasley house was nowhere near the standards Draco had grown up with. The poverty was unmistakable and he could not help but blaming the Weasleys themselves for their bad living standard. "I promise to respect everyone helping me and I'll leave as soon as I'm not in danger of freezing to death anymore."

Mr Weasley scrutinized him for a few long seconds, then he stood up. It seemed he still was not convinced though, because he told his wife, who just came into the room with a steaming cup, "Molly, Kingsley just called. I can stay home today. I'll get my work done tomorrow."

She gave a brief smile at Draco's quiet "Thank you" as he took the delicious smelling cup of hot chocolate. Then she turned to her husband, confusion written on her face. "I thought the ministry was so busy right now. Why the sudden change?"

"Umm... you know." Mr Weasley avoided her gaze, his eyes falling on Draco as he thought of a believable reason. Mrs Weasley followed his gaze.

"Is it because of the boy?" Mrs Weasley said. "Arthur, he's just a boy. We have eight capable witches and wizards in the house. Your work is important." As if on command, Fred and George Weasley entered the room, looking between their parents and Draco in confusion. But they did not dare to interrupt the argument and instead sat down at the long wooden table behind the sofa.

"Molly, you don't know if there's more-"

"The boy was extremely frozen." Molly scolded. "I know we have to be careful at all times but what kind of action would start with letting a young wizard freeze to death."

"Maybe they were counting on your good heart to let him in so he could get us when we least expect it or something. You have to be more careful, Molly. And since you're obviously too naïve I'm staying here today-"

"Too naïve?" Molly said indignantly. "Keeping my family safe is my number one priority and if I had any doubts I would have not let him in. He's just a boy-"

"He's a Malfoy!" Mr Weasley exploded. "There is absolutely no doubt that he is helping You Know Who. This is definitely a reason to-"

"Arthur, we taught our children our whole life that it does not matter who their parents are-"

"With blood status." Mr Weasley argued, ignoring his children, who had woken up from the argument and were now gathering at the big table. Draco also spotted the black sheep amongst all the read heads. And also a vaguely familiar blonde woman. "This has nothing to do with blood status. It's about who you trust. And trusting a Malfoy is just insane!"

"Trusting Lucius Malfoy may be insane." Molly Weasley said, "You can't judge him just because his father-"

"This is naïve, Molly." Mr Weasley said. "He's a mini version of him. He was brainwashed-"

"You know him that well, do you?" Mrs Weasley said.

Mr Weasley sighed, turning to his children. "What do you say, guys? Harry? Ron? You know him the most."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, overwhelmed with suddenly being a part of the argument. "Umm..." Ron said, looking at Harry for help. Harry just stared at Draco though, his face calculating and sceptic, basically like everyone was staring at him except for Mrs Weasley.

"Well," Bill finally said. "I would say we hear what he has to say first. And maybe we should stop talking about him like he's not in the room."

"Good idea." Fred said, standing up and falling onto the sofa beside Draco. George followed and sat on the opposite side, making Draco move more into the middle of the sofa. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, being stared at by Fred and George from both sides. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to steal our riches?" George asked.

Draco tried not to laugh, looking from one twin to the other in confusion.

"He's trying not to laugh." Fred said.

"You know what that means?" George grinned and Draco tensed. He had not meant to make fun of them.

"Finally someone who understands humour!" Fred and George cheered at the same time.

"You can't judge him like that." Ron complained. "He was just making fun of us, well, not having many riches."

Draco had to suppress saying 'More like none'. He stared at the fireplace. If he did not move and bit his tongue, he could do nothing wrong. He sipped on his almost forgotten hot chocolate. It was significantly less hot. He reached into his robes to get out his wand and-

Promptly, nine wands were pointed at him. He froze.

"Throw the wand away." Mr Weasley's stern voice said. "Now!"

Draco did as told, letting the wand fall to the ground where George pushed it further away with his foot. Everyone lowered their wands, staring at him. Draco was growing hot, the many layers of clothing getting too much and he started to sweat. He wanted to take off the cap, but he did not dare to move. The worst thing was that his back was towards the big table, the sofa facing the fireplace, so he could not see what was going on. The silence was thick. Draco grabbed his mug tighter.

"What did you want to do with the wand, Malfoy?" Draco's head snapped to the familiar voice in surprise, meeting calculating green eyes. He sounded menacing though, like any wrong word could make him a murderer.

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again. He could not continue looking at these fierce green eyes any longer averted his gaze back to the fireplace instead. "I just wanted to reheat the chocolate." Draco finally said quietly. He now felt stupid because he was still underage and not even allowed to do magic. At home it had not mattered. He had extra protection from dark forces.

The room was silent for a few more seconds before Fred and George burst out laughing. "Well, aren't we jumpy towards a cuddly boy who just wants hot chocolate." Fred laughed. Draco had to suppress a blush at the word 'cuddly boy'. Malfoys did not blush. And they were not cuddly.

"You see a joke in everything, don't you?" Mrs Weasley scolded, then turned to Draco. "We're sorry, dear. Of course we can reheat your chocolate." She pointed her wand at the hot chocolate and soon, it was steaming again.

"For the time being," Mr Weasley said, crouching down to retrieve the dropped wand, "I'll take this."

"Arthur-" Mrs Weasley went to protest but he gave her a stern look.

"If you want to cocker him up while I take care of my work with a bit peace of mind, let me at least have this security."

Mrs Weasley nodded in defeat. "You going then?"

"I have really much to do." Mr Weasley sighed. "Just give me one sign and I'll be back immediately, yeah?"

Mrs Weasley sighed and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. Draco eyed them curiously. His parents never did that. At least not with people in the same room. "Don't worry too much, my dear."

Mr Weasley gave a brief nod, put on extra warm robes and left with a last, "Bye. Take care."

A brief silence filled the room until Mrs Weasley asked, "How are you feeling, dear?"

Draco gave her a small smile. "Better. Thank you."

Mrs Weasley beamed. "Well, great. Let's have breakfast, shall we? Ginny, Ron, come help me." The two groaned but followed their mother into the kitchen. They were a pureblood family, and they did not even have a house elf?, Draco wondered.



By the time Mr Weasley came back, Draco felt fully wholesome again and ready to leave the Weasleys. It was not that he did not appreciate their hospitality, especially Mrs Weasley's, but he still felt unwelcome. He saw the sceptical glares and felt self-conscious with every move he made. He also felt weird eating the food of the poor family, but Mrs Weasley insisted.

He would have left earlier, but he did not want to leave without his wand, which was currently in Mr Weasley's possession. It felt unsafe, not having his wand around people who neither liked nor trusted him.

To his luck though, when Mr Weasley came home, it was through the fireplace because there was a snow storm outside. It was even too risky to apparate in this weather, let alone fly.

"Draco, dear." Mrs Weasley said soon after Mr Weasley go back. Draco had not talked much, mostly just sat at the fireplace and listened to the bustling in the lively house. During meals, Fred and George talked to him, but Draco only gave brief, quiet answers so the twins did most of the talking. More often than not, the inhabitants ignored him though. Except for Molly Weasley, who asked about his well-being occasionally. "You're gonna sleep in Bill's room."

"I sleep here?" Draco said in surprise, lowering his voice again quickly. "Really, it's fine, Mrs Weasley. As soon as the storm is over I can continue flying. I won't bother you anymore-"

"Nonsense, dear." Mrs Weasley said. "We don't know when the storm stops. And you can't be travelling by broom at night. It's too dangerous. How far is your final destination?"

"Umm..." Draco hesitated. He was not sure if telling her that he did not even have a final destination, that his only aim was getting far away from home, was the right thing to tell her. "Just... two more hours." He lied instead.

"Okay, you can travel that tomorrow, if it's urgent." Mrs Weasley said decisively. "Right now, better stay here."

Draco nodded, not daring to argue. He had learned early on that arguing with parents never ended well for the child.

That's how he ended up following the oldest Weasley child up some rickety stairs and into a small bedroom. There stood one real bed and one mattress on the ground next to it. A closet and a desk stood on the left hand side but there was not much space for anything else. The mattress covered almost the whole floor.

"You can take the bed." Bill said, not letting Draco protest as he was already getting comfortable on the mattress on the floor. He opened his ponytail and covered himself with the blanket. They had changed into sleeping clothes beforehand. Draco was wearing one of Ron's pyjamas. It felt extremely awkward, but in his hurry he had forgotten anything but the robes he was wearing, his wand, his broom and a few Galleons.

Draco followed Bill's example and climbed over the older man on the bed. He grimaced as the bed creaked. The bedsheets were old and washed out, in contrast to the silk sheets he was used to at home, but at least they were clean. And Draco had to admit that the cotton was strangely comfortable. It felt warm and inviting. Bill turned off the lights.

It was silent for a few minutes. Bill was tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, while Draco did not dare to move at all, listening to all the strange, unidentified noises in and around the house. He did not want to annoy Bill by moving.

Finally, Bill settled on his back and let out a troubled sigh. Draco did not know if he should ask what was troubling Bill right now. It would probably be a polite thing to do. Then again, why would Bill want to confide in him?

After a while, Bill took the decision from Draco and started to rant, "Mum's so stubborn, it's unbelievable. She's not even trying to get to know Fleur. She's just not accepting her because she thinks this whole relationship is based on looks. And then, she doesn't even let us sleep in the same room? We're legal adults. And we're about to get married, for Merlin's sake. What is even the problem with Fleur? She is too beautiful? She is from a foreign country? She's blonde, not ginger? Honestly, mum's being childish. And then she's also recruiting Ginny into this shit. She's my mum. She should be able to accept me and my decisions. I don't understand why this is such a difficult task for her..."

Draco bit his lip as Bill stopped talking. He felt like he was supposed to say something. "I think..." Draco said softly, "Women feel threatened if another woman is seen as more beautiful."

"Why?" Bill said. "She's my mum. Why should she be threatened be my fiancé? Shouldn't she be happy I got a beautiful future wife?"

Draco was silent for a few second, thinking about an answer. "Maybe... she doesn't trust her because of her beauty. It's just like Veelas, right? They lure you in with their beauty and then you can't do anything except talking shit and do anything she wants you to. Well, at least with most boys. It somehow didn't work on me..."

"But Fleur is only a small part Veela." Bill said. "And she's not using this magic on me. She doesn't need to. She has an even more wonderful personality."

"Yeah." Draco said. "But your mum doesn't know that. I'm sure she'll come around."

After a few beats of silence, Bill mumbled, "Thanks, Draco." Something flipped in his stomach. Being called by his first name felt like some kind of acceptance. "You wanna tell me why you've been so quiet the whole day? That's not the Draco Malfoy I've heard so much about from Harry."

Draco frowned. "Potter talks about me?"

"A lot." Bill confirmed. "Not necessarily positive things but... still. Never a quiet Draco."

Draco stayed silent. Then, he said carefully, "Well, can't be rude to everyone if I want to make it through another day."

There was a silence again, where Bill processed the words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Draco said. "Your mum saved me. Can't go make fun of your family if I don't... want to go back to before."

"What was wrong with before?" Bill asked. "I mean, sure, making fun of someone is not nice but... what do you not want to go back to? Being your father's puppet?"

Draco gave a short, surprised laugh. "Now you're making fun of my family."

"Payback." Bill joked. It was quiet and when Draco did not start talking, Bill prompted again. "So, what do you not want to go back to? Bullying?"

"Well," Draco closed his eyes. Staring into the dark was getting too exhausting. "Maybe. Mostly... Home."

"You ran away from home?" Bill asked. Draco just hummed shortly. He had not planned to tell anyone, but Bill seemed genuinely interested and it was nice having someone's attention on him for another reason than just being the young Malfoy. "Where are you running to then?"
Draco did not say anything. He had no answer. Bill seemed to get it though, because he pushed himself up onto his elbow and asked in disbelief. "You're running away from home without a plan where? You know how dangerous it is out there right now? With You Know Who and everything?"

Draco let out a short, humourless laugh. "Oh, I know." Draco said. "Not more dangerous than my home though."

"Wow." Bill said. "Wow." He seemed speechless.

It was not fine. Nothing was fine. Draco had no idea what would happen tomorrow and if he would even see the day after that. But right now, it was nice someone was caring about his well-being. He burrowed himself more into the blankets and tried to keep the warm feeling in his heart.