The locked door wouldn't do much good against Voldemort, or so Harry thought. He wasn't yet Voldemort, as far as Harry could tell. If he knew Tom Riddle, which Harry thought he knew him fairly well, then he guessed that Tom Riddle would not do things the same way a second time. How he would change things, Harry didn't know. Would Harry even be useful as a weapon against him this time around? He was thinking far too much about it, and there were far too many unknowns.
"You don't need dozens to protect you, Draco," murmured Harry softly, knowing that as long as he had the name Potter and lived up to what his parents would expect of him, he'd have their protection. Or should. He knew that they were young yet, but...they were still Gryffindors. "You've got me, and that's more than enough. I've got Gryffindor protection with Slytherin stubbornness, Draco. I also know Tom Riddle." Harry's eyes darkened a moment protectively as he glanced back over at Draco beside him. "I've had more than enough interaction with him, as Tom Riddle. He's not going to touch you if you don't want to go to him."