Draco nodded; one of those curt, off-hand, frustrating nods that just barely indicated that he'd heard you.
"I'll take care of it. You get Neville and go outside. Raise an alarm if you see anything suspicious." And he was off.
When he returned to the reception area the crowd was noticeably lessened, but still numerous. Draco stood on a chair.
"Your pardon, Magi and Magae!" he called out. "I regret to interrupt you, but I have just been informed that the Sorcerers', Necromancers', and Astrologers' Knitting & Embroidery Society is expecting to use this room and they need to come in to do set-up. If you will just follow my lead, we'll proceed to the cloakroom and the exit, and we'll let the people who make those wonderful quilts have a little time to themselves. Thank you!"
He jumped down, moved to the door, and held it open to allow the others to file out.
An elderly gentlewizard crept up close beside him. "Did you know, Mr. Malfoy," he whispered, "that They can make radio transmitters the size of a ball bearing?"