Over the past month, he’d picked up a disgusting habit of picking at his fingernails. If his mother could see him, she’d be appalled. Malfoys, even Malfoy men, were to be always fastidiously well-groomed. Granted, he also needed a shower and a haircut, and a substantial amount of bruise-paste to cover his disgustingly battered body, but those things were out of his control. Picking at his fingernails was well within his control.