Conan sighed. Thankfully no hyper first year had come to interrupt him. His book was rather exciting. He had now propped it up against his goblet and had out his pen and notebook. He could smell the food but he wasn't touching it. Nope bad food. Would give him some sort of wizard disease. Maybe he was become impotent. Not that he actually cared about that. Not now anyway. The food would make him ill. NOPE he refused it all.

He ran a hand through his spikes and picked up his pen, as his tummy rumbled. "No. I am not feeding you with this death trap food," he mumbled to it. He rubbed it and turned his text book page.