It was important to know precisely how many days had passed so he could tell how many nights he had left. He sat on the edge of the rickety bed with his head in his hands, looking down at the spare trousers that were easily two sizes too small. Not at the waist, which on Draco fit loosely, but at the cuff which rode two inches above his ankles. Through his fingers he glimpsed the felt covered copy of "whatever about magic" that Hermione had left. Out of boredom, though he resented himself for giving in to boredom, he began to flick through the pages.