A/N: Its kind of a funny format, but I hope you enjoy it even more because of it. Sorry for any mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Perfect


Malfoy's are perfect. Their pale skin.

The

Gray eyes and fine blonde hair. No

Dirty

Mudblood or muggle can compete with the

Blood

Flowing beneath our veins. I am a Malfoy

In

My head, my heart and my soul. In

My

Everything. The blood in my

Veins

Proud and pure

Is More Than Proof.


Some days I remember

When my father was home,

There was no touch of his hand.

No warmth in his arms.

He held no affection

For himself, my mother, nor myself.

There was only the feel of his cane.


Other days I can only think

Of the proud man,

Head high, back straight.

Holding the world in his hands.

Pulling the strings in his favor.

And I hope one day

To be just like my father.


When I was younger,

My mother would dress me in clothes

That were the best money could buy.

And I would play,

Ignoring the anger behind the door to my right.

All I could hear.

Were her screams.


As I grew older

I saw less of my mother's beautiful face

And more of the large empty rooms in Malfoy manor.

'Don't coddle him.'

My father taught her.

And through her he taught me

That Malfoy's don't show affection.


The day came when I would board 9 3/4.

Then

I would enter the halls of Hogwarts.

There

I knew would be my chance to excel. This

Was

Where I could be the perfect Malfoy.

The

Smartest and the most popular. I'd be the

Boy

Of every envy. The one

Who

Everyone wanted to be friends with. I had

Lived

For this day. And there would be no one

Who Would Ruin It.


He was gold.

He shone brightly

In his red Gryffindor robes.

Behind his glasses he was

Brilliant and talented.

He was strong. He was

Everything I was supposed to be.


I was the moon,

Pale and dull in the glow of the sun.

But in the dungeons I could rule.

Cool where he was charming.

I would be cruel instead of kind.

I'd be the perfect Slytherin

If I could be nothing else.


We all know the story.

The classic tale of our rivalry.

Our first year

To our last one in Hogwarts.

His friends and my followers.

And despite my best effort,

He always came out ahead.


The very last day,

Had me watching the newly built school,

As it grew smaller and smaller.

My palms pressed hard against the glass

As my adolescent memories were left behind.

Along with all my wrongs.

And there was new hope.


Another glass of alcohol was

There

Burning its way down my throat. Where

Is

The Malfoy pride as I drown? There's

No

Pride, no redemption for those against the

Light

And its victory. There was no hope

For

The losers of war. When He fell, so did

Those

Who had been faithful and fearful. We

Lost

Everything for following

In The Darkness.


Dark eyes glared drunkenly.

'What are you doing here?'

Whiskey tickled the man's breath

His hand's clenched.

His fingers whitened

With a desire

To lash out at me.


'I have every right

To be wherever I please.'

Nose turned upward

I tried my best for a

Malfoy trademark sneer.

It had little affect

Against intoxicated anger.


Common black hair covered his head.

Another firm, broad chest.

More scarred flesh.

I did not know this man.

But I recognized his face.

His was the

Face of my redemption.


'We don't want scum like you here.'

With a swing of his fist

Alcohol drenched my clothes.

My climbing to my feet seemed to be

Reason enough for him to

Connect with my jaw,

Breaking me down.


A hush fell through the bar.

Every eye watched our scene.

And suddenly my laughter

Broke the blanket of silence.

Laughter at my stupidity

For thinking I could

Be allowed in public.


I chuckled softly.

Then I bellowed loudly.

At my own foolishness.

The audacity of my thinking

That a Deatheater could walk around

Out in the open

Without any harm.


His hard fists swung down on me.

But no strike could bring

Silence to my mouth.

Blood spilt from my cracked nose

Yet I could not stop.

I could not end

The sound of my insanity.


I should have seen it coming.

The

Situation called to the

Kindness

Of his nature. To those courageous ways

Of

His. Even now, in a random bar, he'd find

An

Opportunity to humiliate his

Enemy

And a cocky hero

Is The Worst To Bare


The man was thrown off me,

Sent tumbling against bar stools.

Green eyes I hadn't seen in over a year

Burned in disgust

For the violence of the man or the pathetic

Malfoy on the floor

I did not want to know.


Words were exchanged

Words I could not hear or understand

Even though my laughter had finally ceased.

Giving way to heavy breathing.

I registered only that I was moving

Into cold air.

Then into nothing.


Running water woke my ears.

For a moment I could see

My mother's face with a faint smile

As she prepared me a bath.

One of the few tasks

My father

Would allow her.


When I heard a loud, manly cough

The fog disappeared.

And I was forced to remember

The outburst in the bar.

The too familiar anger and voice.

And then approaching

Into the unknown.


Though the unknown did not seem

Quite so fearsome as I lounged

On a fresh leather coach.

In the darkness I could see

The outline of a small apartment.

Leave it to Potter to

Bring home the enemy.


As I eyed the room,

I did not fail to notice the lack of damage

To my physical body.

No blood or bruises on my fair skin.

Being so intelligent

I easily gathered that Potter had

Healed the damage.


As my attention reverted back to my surroundings

I noticed that the small living area

Was decorated in browns and blacks.

The mudblood must have decorated

If Potter's attire had been any indication.

"Not the red and gold you were expecting?"

My thoughts exactly.


Potter. The Chosen One.

The Boy Who Lived.

The boy who always out shined me.

The man that had saved me from fire.

That had reached out and saved my life

No, he just couldn't

Let me burn for my mistakes.


As a child I had everything.

He

Had nothing. I was rich and handsome,

Made

To be the hero, made to have all the glory.

It

Was hardly fair. One could just

Look

Between the two of us and tell

So

Easily. The choice should've been

Easy

Enough. So why was it he who was

Being The Hero


When I was a child

I dreamt of being a hero.

Rescuing Princesses. A victor of the people.

But instead of a hero, I continue to be a victim.

It is just as well.

I've long ago learned,

Malfoy's aren't hero material.


I never believed I would be

The villain. The man in

All black, under a

Comedic mustache. The bad guy.

I wasn't supposed to be a joke.

A humorous villain

To the real hero.


I never meant to decorate

My body in black robes,

To mask my face behind a mask.

It hid my fear, the tattoo marking my cowardice.

The world made me a villain.

My fear

Made me a slave.


The Dark Mark on

My flesh is proof

That I sold myself, mind, body and soul.

The price for another day.

There is no coming back.

There is no peace from

The burden I wear.


As for the boy who lived?

This man made my heart speed.

Made my fingers itch

With the years of jealousy.

My lips sneered. I was,

Once again, Finally

A true Malfoy.


I could not comprehend it.

My mind could not fathom it.

As we stood facing each other

I tried to make sense

Of our lives. But I all I could think was that

I was a Malfoy,

I was perfect.


End Chapter 1

A/N: Let me know what you think? Should I continue?

Let me know the good and the bad? Nicely please? Thanks for reading!