Draco continued to stare at her blankly for several excruciatingly long seconds before a pink flush began to steadily rise from his collar, sweeping over his jaw, his cheekbones. Anger. He was mad. He was gearing up to say something, jaw working furiously, when the library doors opened behind her. She didn't turn, sure that it was Blaise (who else would interrupt this particular conversation), but slowly stood as Draco's eyes swept over and up. The fire in his eyes was hot enough to burn and the tension in the room skyrocketed. She looked over her shoulder at the newcomer (Blaise, as she had thought), and immediately took note of the defensive stance, the tick in the darker man's jaw. She flitted her gaze between the two wizards, instantly curious (and incredibly wary) of the pressure slowly building around her.