He wrote a short letter to Blaise and Theo, as he knew that they hadn't been condemned like him. They could have been arrested for lesser crimes, but he still wished them the best, and he hoped that they were free now that the Dark Lord was gone. When he finished that, he realized that there was no one else. But then he remembered Potter. The golden boy had saved him from the fire, fought for him at his trial, and probably was currently fighting his appeals. Draco owed him.
                              
Draco glanced at the clock, again. All he had left was time, right? He put the quill to the parchment and wrote.
                              
Potter,
                              
Thank you. I can only assume it's you that has been fighting for my appeals. I don't know why. I don't know why you bothered to save me from the fiendfyre, either. But I know you tried, and you, being you, will probably feel guilty for all this. Don't. This wasn't your fault. I spent a long time coming to terms with your actions and mine. I can only believe you're doing this because of my inaction when Greyback captured you. Some part of me hates that I denied it was you, thus allowing you to escape, ensuring your victory and resulting in my parents and my own death. 
                              
But it's better this way, for everyone. I know that. The Dark Lord was a monster, and you freed us all from him. If that price is my death, then it was worth it. It is a small price to pay for freedom. After everything you've done, I have a few requests, and I don't have anyone left who cares about me enough to see them through. I will be grateful if you can find it in you to honor them.
                              
First, I did write to my Aunt Andromeda, requesting that she accept whatever is left of the Malfoy fortune. I trust that you will assist her in getting as much of it as possible? Thank you, if you do. My next requests are considerably easier. I do not feel it's appropriate for me to write them directly. 
                              
Please tell Granger that I'm terribly sorry for how I treated her. There's no excuse for the names I called her, but let her know why it started. My father beat me nearly every day that summer between our first and second year, when he found out that she had bested me in class. I'm sorry that I directed my anger and pain onto her. Please tell her that she is the brightest and best student in the school, and I hope she finds some solace in that admission from me. 
                              
I'll admit, the day you three came to my house was one of the scariest days in my life. Watching her being torturing in front of me, almost made me turn on my family right there. But I am a coward, and I saw no way to help you all escape. How Dobby turned up, I will never know. I let you have the wands to escape, but I wish I had done more for her. But please, tell her sorry, and I hope that she has healed from it. 
                              
Next, I guess I need apologize to Weasley. I know how badly I bullied him, but he never gave in. He's a great Keeper and made some fantastic plays. Our families were constantly feuding, and I'm sorry that I let that influence how I treated him. If I can offer some reconciliation, it is all I can do. His family, despite their financial situation, is so much better and wholesome than mine. His mother must be an amazing lady to raise a great family and adopt you into it.
                              
My last request, Potter, is that you accept my apology. That rejected handshake in our first year, turned me into a petulant prat. I'm sure I was a prick. The fact that I'm gay and always had a crush on you, didn't help either. You were just something out of my reach as you were a straight, Gryffindor who was the Chosen One. Most of the things I did were childish... messing with you in Snape's class and dressing up as a dementor, but for the things that were cruel, I'm sorry. Your nose, Hagrid, and bringing up your parents... I'm so sorry.
                              
They gave me all the parchment I could want and, other than a short message to Blaise and Theo, I have no one left. Even if the others were alive, I wouldn't have said anything but a brief farewell. No, you are closer to me than anyone. Isn't that sad? And we aren't even friends... in the traditional sense. But by the end, I considered you an ally, and I hope you will remember me in a little better light, now, and perhaps as a friend that you once knew.