Draco slowly rises into a seated position, not wanting to move suddenly and end up pinned again. Seeing the twirling knife Draco looks to it, and then up to the man with a raised eyebrow.

"Mind with the knife? I had a... aunt with a fondness for them. Not exactly someone I think you would want to be associated with." No one would want him mentally associating them with Bellatrix Lestrange. He also did not want to remember listening to Hermione Granger's screams either.

Draco then moved to stand up from the bed, still moving carefully as he reached for his wand. "No. Not, at least... I don't think it was specific to you. Almost like..." Draco paused, his mind working through how such an unusual urge could have transpired.

"I was dosed with a potion..." Well, now that pissed him off.