Unsurprisingly, he hadn't been knocking. After three taps of his wand, the door swung open, creaking on it's rusty hinges, and Draco blinked into the dark.

"Lumos," he muttered, following the glow at the tip of his wand until he found a head of blond hair, an the small, cowering body it was attached to.

"We're leaving," he told her, releasing the chains on her wrists with another flick of his wand, right as all the commotion started upstairs. They'd be coming down, soon, with Potter and Weasley in tow. "Dammit," he muttered frustratedly, "We have to go. Now."