Draco had wished for his wand as he had wrapped his filthy coat around him and stared at Potter with hate smouldering inside, warming him like his coat couldn’t. But Draco didn’t have his wand and Potter did. And so instead of telling the Golden Boy exactly what he thought of him or hexing the bastard, Draco had simply shut his mouth, and nodded numbly at Potter. Luckily the Order members had ignored Draco and just gotten on with their work, and within a matter of half an hour, everything was done. A flushing toilet had been installed in the corner furthest from the stairs, a flimsy wall and heavy curtain providing some semblance of privacy.