Breakfast proved to be more annoying than usual. "Eat," and though Malfoy was trying to be subtle about it –actually, genuinely subtle– Harry’s stomach was having less of it than usual. He'd not figured out why he couldn't eat yet. He just knew his stomach resisted food at Hogwarts. He tried to think of other occasions eating outside —Sirius bought him stuff often when he took him out, and Harry's stomach had never protested then. And he'd had a lovely meal in a restaurant at Diagon Alley. He'd enjoyed eating there. Maybe it was the people? He didn't know. "At least a slice of buttered bread. Flying class isn’t until this evening and it’s nearly impossible to get you to eat at lunch. Please eat something." Perhaps it was that —genuine pleading from Malfoy— that had Harry biting into a piece of toast; albeit begrudgingly. The fact that Malfoy looked nearly ridiculously relieved is what forced him to keep it down. 