He had received his Hogwarts letter that morning. It was written in green ink on yellowing parchment, and the seal was bright red. It had been laying on his desk that morning and was one of the first things he saw. He had liked it, and decided he wouldn't open it. Instead he walked down to breakfast.
Breakfast was a very solemn affair, as were all meals in the Malfoy Manor. He sat up unnaturally straight while his father was in the room, and when he stormed out, he relaxed slightly, but not so much that he looked like he was slouching. A house elf tottled in, handing his mother his letter. his letter I had resolved not to open because a) it was nice looking the way it was, and b) he didn't really want to go to Hogwarts. Now mother would open it up and he would have to go and that would ruin everything.
He abandoned his eggs and was about to leave the room when his mother raised her hand. She had long ago decided that since Draco was silent he must also be stupid and had certain signs to indicate what she wanted down. A raised hand meant "move an inch and I will kill you with my eyes". As least that's how he interpreted it. He stopped moving, staring at her nonchalantly.
"Draco, when did you receive this?" She said coldly, lowering her hand. He had half a mind to run then, but instead made a complex hand gesture he meant to be read as "This morning, only I hate you so I thought I would keep it to myself". Unfortunately this is not how it was interpreted, and Narcissa, after raising one eyebrow thoughtfully, opened the letter and read it out. He started inspecting the ceiling, or where he knew the ceiling would be if it wasn't so high.
"I must go inform your father of this." She said, then swept out of the room. Draco deflated, both physically and mentally. Now he'd have to go. Blasted parents. He had to go out. He walked briskly to his room, and after a few minutes of searching found what he was looking for. A pair of muggle clothes, a hat, warm jacket and combat boots. He carefully walked out of the house, only looking back once. Then he ran. He ran as far as he could, until he was out of breath.
He didn't know where he was now, but it seemed like a muggle town, the cars zooming in every direction. He walked slowly through the streets, catching bits of speech here and there. A group a teenagers, probably only a few years older than him, were standing in front of a store, singing and dancing. As he got closer he heard one of them feign a low voice.
"It's just a jump to the left" She said, and all of them made a small jump to the left.
"And a step to the right!" Two other girls called out, holding the "i". In answer they all jumped hitting some passer-bys, then most of them collapsed in giggles. Draco continued walking. They didn't interest him that much. A man across the street was standing on a box, yelling loudly to people who were completely ignoring him. This didn't interest him either, so he continued walking. A family was walking past him, the father holding the young child's hand. Draco didn't understand that. Why would he hold it's hand? Couldn't it keep up? He brushed past them as well. This wasn't half as fun as he'd thought it would be.
He started walking back, and the teenagers and their song were gone. The old man was starting to lose his vigour and the sun was setting. He was hungry, and his feet were hurting. Maybe he could sit down for a few minutes. Once sitting down he very much doubted whether or not he would get up, he was very tired having run the whole way down here. He laid down, the metal bench very uncomfortable and cold. Slowly he fell asleep, watching people rush by, oblivious to the eleven year old boy shivering to himself.