Draco sat in a starched white shirt swinging his feet. Some of Father's friends were coming and Mother was making him get all dressed up but his shirt was pokey and his collar itched and he liked eating dinner just with Mother better because he got to sit on a shorter chair and rest his toes on the floor, but whenever Father had company he had to be good and eat with everyone and smile.
Why weren't they here already? He'd counted twelve clock strikes by himself and that was when Father said they'd be here and he was hungry.
