Draco wrapped his arms around her slender frame and hushed her. It seemed odd, to him at least, cause he knew Harry above all others including Voldemort. Which would be proven in the future. Harry wouldn't leave someone, he'd put up with those filthy mudbloods that were known as family.
"Figures," he spoke almost sourly "he's probably off with that mudblood friend of his now and that disgusting excuse for a wizard, Ron Weasley." But he hated hearing and seeing Roshara so hurt, he paused a little while holding onto her, he couldn't believe he was about to speak of Harry Potter in a nice manner, "Honestly, that Scarhead wouldn't hurt a fly. I swear it, he'd be a fool to let you go. As foolish as he is, love. He wouldn't do it to you. Or anyone for that matter."
Harry stepped aboard the Knight bus, and asked about finding someone.
"No worries, tell him, there and 'e will get you to that destination." Stan Shunpike said hoarsely. Harry told the driver, and the driver nodded lazily while scooting the bus between cars and pedestrians. The Knight bus stopped in front of The Malfoy's nearly spitting Harry out. "Bloody hell!" Harry bolted for cover.