Draco secured the sheet more firmly around himself and padded outside. To his utter lack of surprise, the fact that the Burrow was bereft of house-servants meant that he encountered nobody as he slipped through the corridors and made his way to the garden door. Irritatingly, everything was pitch black (naturally the Weasels were too poor to keep candles burning all night, like they could in the Manor) and he stubbed his toe, an unfortunate consequence of having left his boots in his room. Draco shuddered at the thought of the dirt that was no doubt sticking to his pristine soles but powered on.