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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: a little less sixteen candles, a little more "touch me" — fall out boy
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( 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘, 𝟏𝟔 )
It was the morning of the 5th of June 1996. Draco Malfoy's Sixteenth Birthday.
Nobody said anything over breakfast; nor did Draco expect anyone to do so. As pompous and pretentious Draco could be, sometime, birthdays were never a big deal to him. It was merely him getting a year older, and a year closer to his eventual death. So no one ever bothered to find out when it was, and he never bothered to celebrate it. Anyways, it was always right before the End of Years where everyone was busy cramming for their exams. Or at the very least, trying to.
He would start his day as per normal, putting down his neatly ironed robes, smoothing his hair down. He would head down to breakfast in the Great Hall, sitting with his friends at the Slytherin table, picking up and perusing today's Daily Prophet as he ate his breakfast. He would receive two letters and a package every year. One from his mother, cooing about how her boy was a year older and how sorry she was for not being able to celebrate with him. One from his father, about what a fine young man he was and how he would do well in his Finals and make him proud. The package always contained a small gift, a sweater, a pair of shoes, a new snitch, and a fortune worth of galleons for him to spend after his exams. At the end of the day, he would send them a letter in return. It was simple and easy. No fuss whatsoever.
