"We could talk to Theo about cutting back on some of the -" he stopped mid-sentence as Hermione shook her head, eyes still closed. With a deep breath, Blaise angled his head down, hovering over Hermione's upturned face, still with that look of longing written plainly across his features. If Draco hadn't seen that look, he would never have guessed at its presence, given the casual way Blaise continued to speak to the witch. "This last one is a Sleeping Draught. Should probably wait until you're upstairs to take it." His hand was still wrapped around hers, his hips bracketed by her legs. Everything in Draco froze as he watched, transfixed, as Blaise placed his other palm high on Hermione's thigh. The move looked... incredibly natural. Wrong, of course. But like he'd done it before. A lot. The clench in his gut now bordered on straight out pain. Hermione didn't move, didn't open her eyes or otherwise react in any way to Blaise's hand, his proximity. Draco willed her to push him away, to tell him to move away, to react negatively, anything. Instead, she only sighed and said, "Stop looking at me like that."