Draco felt like he had been battered; he could feel the warm, thick, blood dripping through his teeth. A bright light prevented him from opening his eyes completely. He realized he couldn't get up, and he grunted in displeasure. He looked down to see why he couldn't get up and it was revealed to him that he was tied down in a chair. Draco heard a noise in the distance, he looked up and worried it would be someone he couldn't trust, someone who wouldn't help him. Draco couldn't see the figure in the bright light, but his eyes were adjusting.
The person in the distance came into view slowly, and before they became clear, he could tell it was the only man he trusted right now. He smiled into the light as the figure came closer. He could almost laugh it was so relieving.
Draco attended his review classes that the headmaster and his potions professor requested he take. Since he was the only one in the dorms, they decided that he needed to be preoccupied. As he had presumed and tried to tell Professor Snape, he knew all of his magic from the previous year and he was becoming quickly bored of the tedious and repetitive work. Draco looked up the sign for "rudimentary" to tell his professors what he meant, but they wouldn't even look at him when he tried to sign, except for Snape.
One part of what made his stay at Hogwarts more bearable was that he could go down to Diagon Alley or even Muggle London as long as he came back before curfew. Every week, he'd go down to Muggle London and buy some cigarettes. He knew they were bad for him, but he felt comforted by the thought that he was slowly being killed by his own doing and if he died earlier, he wouldn't feel too rushed.
Most of the time when he smoked, Draco found he felt so great and sexy. He had some fantasies where he would be smoking at a bar and a handsome stranger would come up to him and ask him for a cigarette. In the fantasy, the stranger would always look a little like Potter. Alright, so he was kidding himself a little bit, there was no stranger; it was just Potter, asking him for a cigarette.
He felt a little pathetic when he got hard thinking about it. How could he feel this way about his rival, who is a boy, who is forbidden by the Dark Lord? Oh no, no, Draco wasn't into the whole 'follow the Dark Lord' thing, but he couldn't help some of the anti-Potter feelings that his father tried so hard to put in him.
He remembered himself as a child trying to convince his father that Potter should be forgiven for destroying the Dark Lord. He'd memorized a quote that he felt his father might feel better about.
Who said, "Always forgive your enemies - nothing annoys them so much."? Ah yes, it was that gay poet. Oscar Wilde.