Blaise's voice started to draw Draco to a state of awareness, but the dream tried to keep him locked in it. "Why do you want me to look after her?" he mumbled aloud, even as he dreamed onward. "Why me? Answer me, you old fool!" Of course, were he fully awake, the demand would have been much more scary and lively. In this sleeping state, however, the words were slurred together and there was little tone to his voice--much of what one would probably expect from someone who spoke in their sleep.
As Blaise shook him, the edges of sleep finally started to disappear and Draco came around fully. Well. Not quite fully. He glanced up tiredly at Blaise, rubbing at his eyes in an almost child-like, adorable manner. It took him a moment or two to register that he was, in fact, in Blaise's house, and that he'd come here invited, of course, to escape the threats of his parents at least for another weekend. "Blaise?" he simply replied to his friend's insults, his voice groggy. Drawing the blankets close around his shoulders, Draco shivered visibly. "I didn't want to wake you last night. I..." Well, he didn't want to admit that he'd been hurt just to be so easily dismissed, and that that's how he'd taken Blaise's goodnight the previous evening.