Draco sat in his dining room, his breakfast untouched save for the mug of coffee in his hands. He stared at the wood grain of the table, as though it might provide some answers but nothing came. His appetite was no more, it having slowly waned over the past three days. He thought at first a hot meal and fine wine would settle his frayed nerves but when he had just sicked it all up later that night, he found that after that food no longer held much taste and so he began to eat less and less each day. 