Nothing was magical.
Terribly sentimental and poorly phrased, but that was the raw summary of how Draco Malfoy felt toward his life at the moment as he observed the figures mingling in the ballroom.
A glass of whiskey in one hand, he wondered absentmindedly what they were celebrating tonight. He hadn't forgotten—he simply never knew.
The business partner that dragged him here didn't elaborate much, only simultaneously inviting him after hearing his father couldn't make it.
He was a proxy, but the free booze made him a willing one.
"Excuse me," called a brunette as she approached him. She looked alluring in an olive green gown, easily one of the prettiest girls he'd seen. "Would you like to dance?"
The music had changed and others had begun to frolic gaily on the dance floor, laughter ringing about from different sides of the room.
Whatever this party was for, it was certainly a happy event.
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