Yes, I must admit; Harry is kind of acting out of character. I'll try to fix it up for you.

"a very familiar smirk" as in the Slytherins. Very close about them being related by blood; I was more meaning related by house spirit? As in a familiar smirk – or sneer/ snigger – all Slytherins have. But of course Draco has a Trademark smirk, slightly different, but then only he has that. Does that make sense?

The word fagot? Hmmm, well, I'm sorry if it offended people; it was an impulsive first-thing-that-comes-to mind thing. Sorry, again.

---

"Aha!" Draco smiled – yes, a genuine smile! – as he grasped the parchment. He had searched so long for. The sun had set, but – something to do with daylight saving? – it got dark early, so it didn't really count. He had been in his father's office for hours.

He beamed as he unravelled it, making sure again that this was definitely the one; he saw numerous names scribbled on the page. About a quarter way down the page; there was Hermione's. Draco smiled again as he stuffed the paper in his robe and placed the invisibility cloak over himself again.

Draco slipped out of the door way, with feet as light as a bird's, he gently replaced all the charms back on the door. He was feeling so happy; he had to constantly keep himself from the urge to whistle to himself. He heard faint footsteps, the sound of burly men trying to ruffle their footsteps.

"...five minutes," he heard someone say with fear; McMillan?

"Are you sure?" another asked, Fulstride?

"Yes," McMillan confirmed, "His Liege will be arriving in f-five minutes, maximum," he stuttered, walking too far away for Draco to safely eavesdrop on.

His Liege? That could only be one person. Oh shit; fuck, screw and bugger. Five minutes, max.

A house elf scurried pass and Draco held back his chain of insults.

He had to find Harry. He had to get Harry out of the house. Now. Before five minutes. Well before five minutes.

Draco ran towards his room, silently searching for Harry. Voldemort would know Harry was in the house the moment he stepped in. He turned to corner to find Harry having a lively conversation with another house elf.

Draco shook his head, what was he thinking? Couldn't Potter do anything right? Draco coughed and cleared his throat. Harry let out an uneasy laugh and excused himself from the house elf's presence. A disgrace to the Malfoy name.

The house elf skittered away merrily; a smile stretched across its face, as Harry opened the door widely to make sure Draco could fit in.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, POTTER???" Draco shouted, ashamed of what Harry just did his body and forgetting about the real crisis at hand.

"Shut up, Malfoy. I was just.... Never mind. Did you get it?" Harry asked,

"Don't change the subject," Draco muttered, showing his prize, "we need to get out of here. Now."

Harry was confused. Draco told him before that they had to stay there longer to keep up appearances.

"What?" was all Harry could manage, trying to figure what could have gone wrong.

"We need t..." Draco began repeating when his door began moving slightly and quickly halted and grabbed the invisibility cloak and covered himself,

"Draco," Lucius began, barging into his son's room to grace it with his presence. "Come."

Harry looked back to where Draco should be, where his polyjuice potions were hidden. His stomach was weak; either he was sickening scared of meeting the Murderer of his parents, again... or the potion was reaching its limit.

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Someone said they liked short chapters? Yay! Go you!