A/N: Ok my other stories have obviously been a failure. I don't really get reviews…Not even bad ones! (cept one with a correction.)But I'd like to thank the first four people who have reviewed and complimented me. (Even though I don't deserve it.) Unfortunately I can't say specific names.. I am truly sorry but ff no longer allows me to write personally to reviewers. But I hope you know who you are. If not look at my first story called These Words. Again I am sorry I can't personally thank you.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter characters or any other thing like that.
Well! On the story!
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Words of wisdom:
We
do not what we ought,
What we ought not, we do,
And lean upon
the thought
That Chance will bring us through.
-Matthew Arnold, Empedocles on Etna
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Perfect.
Definition?
Ahem .Perfect- per·fect: without errors, flaws, or faults. Excellent or ideal in every way. Ex. That's the perfect way to describe him.
In other words, Him; Draco Malfoy.
Only one person could be perfect. And perfect was him and him only.
In all his years at Hogwarts, he thought himself as perfect. Why wouldn't he? Pureblood. Riches. A name that had always demanded respect. Girls drooling over him (sometimes literally.) His father in the inner circle with Voldemort, who also had a high place in the Ministry.
Though, had would be the special word there.
He also knew he was extremely good looking. Not only by the dreamy and flirtatious stares he received from his fellow schoolmates (99 percent of the times girls. He did not want to think of the other 1percent . As little as it was. ), but also because many adults had always told him he how handsome he was and how he would grow up to be as successful as his father.
His father.
That stupid, controlling, evil, little, bas-
Ahem, But that's a different topic, isn't it? Moving on then.
Now as you can tell, he wasn't exactly the most….modest person in the world. He was always bragging about his pureblood heritage. Belittling those that were not; even other purebloods,for he knew that, although they were purebloods, he was above most of them in society as well. His surname carried the honor of all the Malfoy's past and present.
In addition to this, his grades were second highest in his year. As you can see he is very intelligent.
Ahh. Yes. Perfect. That's what he was, right? No? What ever do you mean no?
Ohhhhh. Alas, his personality. I suppose that's a strike on the fault list. He was considerably cold to others. Only a select few were considered 'friends'. And let's just say you didn't want to be on his hate-list. Also like I said; belittling those who were 'not up to his standards'….well I guess you could call it bullying if you wanted. One of his fun pastimes.
Torturing those who were filthier than filth its self; in other words, mudbloods. Or muggleborns as the 'polite' people would say. His favorite mudblood was very honored indeed. She was oh-so-special, because he paid extra attention to her. Whether she wanted it or not.
Yes he remembered how much 'fun' he had had. He had a number of names for her; filthy little mudblood, or stupid mudblood, know-it-all mudblood, maybe even stupid know-it-all filthy little mudblood. Yes they were oh so creative, no?
But that stupid, know-it-all, filthy little, mudblood had found a fault in him. She. Found. A. Fault. In. Him! How dare her! He was faultless. Right?
Yet she still found plenty of faults, errors, and flaws in him. And she had listed them to him, much to his displeasure.
He had also though of tons of flaws about her.
She was annoyingly smart.
She knew she was annoyingly smart.
She acted like she was annoyingly smart.
She talked like she was annoyingly smart.
She's a know it all.
She is a mudblood.
She isn't a pureblood.
She's a Gryffindor.
She's friends with Potty.
She's friends with Weasel.
She was in most of his bloody classes.
She was a goody-to-shoes.
She had bushy hair.
Her teeth were humongous.
She was...umm….short.
And……ehh…..she always wore her socks too high...
She…..ahhh…..err……..umm……liked……….Broccoli! (and this is where he gets desperate.) (A/N: I do not know if she likes broccoli or not. This is just for my story.)
And ….umm…a….she…….never…..always…..huh?
As you can see, his list was cut short however. The more he though about them, about her, they slowly started disappear. Now this could have been because she had either corrected them, or he had simply……….forgotten them. Kind of……looking past them, if you will. Instead of seeing flaws, he saw more traits leading to perfection.
After insulting her for 6 long years, the pleasure of making fun of her had seemed to dissipate. Slowly, but surely.
Now whenever he saw her smile he secretly wished it was directed towards him instead of the worthless someone it was aimed at. And at times, he scared the hell out of them by glaring at them for the rest of the day. When he found himself doing this, he would scold himself for acting like a 5 year old child who had their toy taken away from them.
He was not a child. Therefore he should not be acting like a child. But he did.
Now, Perfect people do not act like children.
He should not be glare at people simply because the person had received a smile. From a mugglebornno-less. He did not interact with people who are below him. He did not want to interact with people below them. He did not want to think about people who are below him. And he did not know what to do.
Why? Because, all of the above, he was doing and wanting. If he was doing all the things a Perfect person shouldn't be doing, did that make him……imperfect?
Well, then. If he was not the perfect person who was?
To his great displeasure and regret only one name came to his mind. How could she be perfect when he was not? Sure she was nice to people (other than him), she was pretty, not gorgeous but pretty, she got good grades, top in her grade, she had actual friends, unlike his, and and…..and….she was just ….well…perfect.
Oh no! He did not just think that. Tell me he did not just think that. Tell me!
He though it.
Yup. He was a doomed man. Why you ask? Well, because, to put it simply, since she was a mud---muggleborn, a know-it-all, Gryffindor, and Scarehead and Weasel's friend, if he did not hate her, then he liked her and if he liked her he liked someone he was raised to hate.
To loathe.
And he couldn't love someone he was supposed to hate right? He was not supposed to love her.
NOT supposed to love. Ah but love does do odd things to people I guess.
Wait. Did I just say love? Did I just say love 4 times? Oh bloody hell. Yes, I guess I did. Too late to take it back now. Hmmm...Man, he's gonna kill me for telling you that.
Well, let's go back to beginning, yes? Only this time we will see what he now thinks perfect is. In his point of view of course. It's not like he could kill me anymore than he already will, right?
Perfect.
Definition?
Ahem…AHEM…..Perfect- per·fect: without errors, flaws, or faults. Excellent or ideal in every way.
Ex: Look at picture to the left. Now if you look to the left of his brain dictionary, you'll see a tiny, black, and white picture of a girl around his age, with a Hogwarts uniform on. And the Gryffindor insignia adorning her outer robes over her left breast. With a head of somewhat wavy dark hair, and dark eyes to match. Below the picture are two words.
…………………
………………………
……………………………
………..…………………...Keep going.
…………………………………………………
Hermione Granger.
OoOEndOoO
A/N: Ok I hope this is ok. I tried to make it better than my others. If you read please review! On my other story Two Sentences 90 people have read it but only one person reviewed. And all she said was that I had spelled sentences wrong. On my other story These words 63 people read it and only 4 people reviewed. You catch my drift? Some please review. Even to say that you didn't like it and that I should improve. If you want me to improve tell me what I can improve please.
Thank you for taking your time to read this. I do appreciate that you took time to read it, even if you don't review. Though I would prefer if you did review. I'm truly sorry if you didn't like it.
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