Draco scooped up his coat in his cold-stiffened left hand and slipped it around his shoulders again – afraid to put his right arm through the sleeve in case it hurt. Actually, he knew it would hurt, he just didn’t know how much. And he didn’t care to find out. Draco’s mouth was so dry – no saliva to even wet his lips with, and his head pounded blindingly with a dehydration-induced headache that a simple potion could have fixed. But he had no potions. No wand. Nothing.