Draco rolled Clark Priddy’s shoulders. They were wider than his, bulkier from regular feedings, stronger from routine exercise. He stretched his wrist next. Carpal tunnel, Hermione guessed. Caught early, though judging by the discomfort playing across Draco’s brow, Priddy probably wore a brace. Draco would not have that luxury today. He lifted a hand at play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Priddy was balding, but stubborn about it, growing his hair longer as if that made up for the sparse strands on top.