Draco's eyes turned to stare at the man in front of him. His son? Friends with a Potter? But there was something more important to say. "Potter and I aren't friends, whatever misconception that is. I assure you of that." He narrowed his eyes. "Someone certainly is speaking high and mighty of his name in this moment. Maybe you do know a son of mine." Because that's what mattered in this situation. He glanced around the hotel with a huffy sigh.
"Fine. If I'm to stay here, the least you could do is show me to this room. Hopefully I have some decent clothing and am not stuck wearing some Muggle atrocity. Or worse, red." He turned to look at Jamie, as if to say yes, yes that's a remark at being a Gryffindor. "Tell me my son is at least a Slytherin and I'll believe you. I may even believe you if you say Potter's son was one, too. Always did think there was more than the brave hero he played at, but he was too good to admit that to us." He motioned forward, as if to say, after you, all but demanding that the other show him where to go.