Draco wandered into the kitchen, hoping Mrs Weasley had something fresh out of the oven to devour. Hangovers had always left him starving for delicious, fattening baked goods. Her spicy carrot muffins with cream cheese icing were possibly the most delectable muffins Draco had ever had; even better than what the House Elfs made at home. No – it wasn’t home anymore. At the Manor, Draco corrected himself, before...before all of this. When he had been happy, sometimes. He looked around – the kitchen was empty, but the scent of something sweet and spicy wafted from beneath a tea towel on the kitchen table. It wrinkled and moved as he spied it, and he frowned. What on earth had Mrs Weasley made?