"Tagging along?" Draco muttered in an affronted voice. "You think I'm just going to sit by when you summon my wife? Look here, Potter, you little--" The rest of what was said caught up to him, and Draco stilled. He made sure his hood was up before he looked around the corner, covering his very distinctive hair. He spotted the smoke, heard something that sounded like distant shouting, and slumped against the wall to rub his forehead and swear. He didn't even bother to keep it under his breath.