A narrow bed dressed in off white linens stood bolted to the far wall, stained deflated pillows twice the age of Draco perched at the head. Giving his frigid feet a rest, he met the top sheet with his backside and stretched his legs. The "mattress’ was firm, rough to the touch like old Thestral hide. His two feet from the ankles hung over the edge, and beneath him a small chest was tucked neatly away. Presumably, they’d provide him with a few creature comforts, or at least some bare necessities from his dorm room. An iron chain kept the chest in place - already pulled taut at the wall from where it sat. Throwing the chest at the headmaster wasn’t something Draco had considered, but apparently the thought had once occurred to somebody. A toilet sat adjacent to him and stared back at Draco with an expression of "you and me both, pal."