Draco shucked his Azkaban robes quickly, then his shorts, shoes, and socks. He took a moment to look into the mirror above the sink where he placed the bag of clothes his solicitor brought him. He almost did not recognise himself. Yes, he kept a stringent workout routine while in his holding cell in Azkaban as a method of coping and distraction, but he also slept very little. His mind healer explained to him that potions were not allowed for prisoners to prevent dependency and abuse. Draco had asked for a dreamless sleep once or twice as a last resort and the mind healer always refused with a look of pity and regret in her eyes, apologising for not being able to assist. He had deep purple bags under his eyes, and his hair had grown to his shoulders, appearing dull and lifeless.