Her words were abruptly cut off and Blaise looked wildly around the room for the power that had robbed the witch of speech. He himself had pulled his wand, intent on silencing Pansy before she said something that made him (or, more likely, Harry) lose his temper but, once again, Daisy had beaten him there. The little elf, now clad in a little sweater dress, stood on the coffee table in front of Pansy, hands on her hips, eyes murderous.