Alliteration

Perfect Potter. Oh how I hate him. He's got fame and friends. He's got bravery, humility, nobility, and all that other Gryffindor crap. I hate him for his well being.

Some say I've got fame too, but my fame is different. I'm the jackass prat on campus with the Death Eater father. I'm known because I'm feared, not liked. It's not the same with Potty. Just because he's and orphan with a dumb scar and has fought the Dark Lord several times, everyone likes him. If he had a normal life, the teachers wouldn't treat him specially (Snape would definitely still hate him). The only friend s he would have would be Weasley and Granger.

That's another thing I hate about Potter. His best friends. Poor Weasley and Mudblood Granger. I have Goyle, Crabbe, and Pansy, but they're not friends. They're lackeys. Potter has people to laugh with. They get along most of the time, have tons of arguments, but still come out the same. Best friends. I hate it. My lackeys do whatever I say. They wouldn't dream of not speaking to me for a month, or even have an argument. Maybe that's why I go and bother the Gryffindors so much. They're the only ones who dare disagree with me to my face. It feels good. So I hate them for that.

I guess it all comes down to jealousy. But I'm not just jealous of his moral qualities, his popularity, his scar, or his friends. The real reason sounds stupid. No, Malfoys are not gay; I don't think he looks better than me. Trust me, no one looks better than Draco Malfoy. The real reason is so stupid I have not told another soul. Well here goes nothing.

His nickname.

Yes, his nickname. And my cleverness. Curse them both. When those two items come together, they are terrible. For Potter and I alike. Why? Well, my wit upsets him when I turn his famous nickname 'the-boy-who-lived' into something annoying like: 'the boy-who-lived-for-attention' and 'the- boy-who-lived-to-be-a-hero'. I've also mocked his family name by calling him 'Potty' and 'Perfect Potter'.

But he doesn't know that my habitual cleverness hurts me too. Why? I'll tell you why. Because I want a nickname. I've got names that people call me, sure. Pansy and mother call me 'Drakie'. The Gryffindors call me 'insufferable git', 'Ferret-Boy' or something equally as uncreative. But I don't have a nickname. One with alliteration. Like Perfect Potter. My name just doesn't work. Dangerous Draco? No, that sounds stupid. Malicious Malfoy? No, too much of a mouthful. Damn. I'm cursed with nickname-less-ness forever. Damn Potter and his nicknames. Damn that Perfect Potter. I hate him.

But I can't hate him. I can't mock him any longer. He doesn't care anymore. My wit and cleverness are wasted on him. Ever since that one night. That one crucial night. He found me. Found me hiding. Hiding from the world. My responsibilities. My life. I was supposed to kill Potter, but I was stalling. I was scared.

He found me with my head in my hands. All said to let me know he was there was:

"Malfoy?"

That one word got me riled up. My surname, without an alliterated companion. I got to my feet.

"Go away Potter", I said, "or I'll make you go away. Forever."

"Go ahead and do it if you want." He replied. "I'm not running anymore. Do it you want."

This was it. I had to get it over with some time. I raised my wand:

"Avada-"

His body tensed up, but his eyes looked relived. I stopped.

"It doesn't work this way. You have to put up a fight, Potter."

"Why should I if I want to go?"

"You want to?"

"Yeah. I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime, Malfoy. You can turn in Perfect Potter to your master."

"Shut up." I spat.

"What, do you deny your plans?" He asked.

"Not at all."

"Than what is it?"

"You. Using my nickname for you. You can't. It's mine." As soon as I the words came out of my mouth I felt like a stupid child.

"Yours? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It's a name for me isn't it?"

"Shut up Potter." I headed towards the corridor. "Go to bed and don't do something dumb like flinging yourself off the astronomy tower." I headed toward the dungeons in silence.

I know that whole encounter surprised Potter, hell, it surprised me. But now I can't hate him. He doesn't have hatred in his eyes when he looks at me anymore. He looks at in confusion, maybe a little in respect. It's hard to hate someone who may respect you.

But I'm still jealous. He has everything I've always wanted, including a clever nickname thanks to me. At times, I still hate him. 'The-boy-who- lived-to-make-me-jealous'. Perfect Potter. I will always hate him.