Draco laid on his cot staring at the cracks in the ceiling that bore a striking resemblance to the Leo constellation. His whole body was sore. He’d exercised and stretched his body every way he could think of in his confined quarters. Staying in shape was just his way of passing the time. He had one book, a muggle novel he hated. Of Mice and Men was perhaps one of the most depressing books that Draco ever read. He still read it seven times and would read it a dozen more before they traded it out. His last book had been the seventh book in a ten book series. He doubted they’d ever let him read the others. It was just one more way to torture him.