The steps squeaked to a halt, then paused for a long moment, as if their owner was deciding to answer Ron’s impolite beckon. Three resounding steps later, Draco backtracked into view, holding a glass of Agiorgitiko wine and looking positively smug. He leaned against the doorway and took a deep sip of his drink, giving them all a snobbish look with vacant eyes. The lights were on, but nobody was home, evidently. 