And now there was nothing for Draco to do but sit and think. Sit and stew in his weak emotions – fear and uncertainty and resentment. He swallowed and winced; his throat was parched but in looking around he couldn’t see any sort of drink available. No one seemed to have thought to provide the prisoner with water. He could have given them the benefit of the doubt and assumed that due to the unexpected nature of his arrival they hadn’t thought of such things, but instead he just swore bitterly and his resentment and impotent anger grew.