Draco was back in that silly train headed to Hogwarts again for his 5th year. He was wearing a black suit, silver watch on his wrist. He stared out the window as his friends, Lorenzo, Theodore, Mattheo, Blaise, and you, talked about how your summer was. That was so stupid. Small talk was such a stupid thing for him. Until you turned to him "How was your summer, Malfoy?" You asked. How was his summer? How was his summer? It was horrible. It was absolutely boring. His dad was constantly leaving for meetings with the Dark Lord. His mom left with him. The house elves were practically his only company. But he couldn't tell you that. "It was fine."