"Perfect, son. You look perfect."

~Perfect~

That was a new phrase, and I

relished the sound.

I was finally reaching the highest peak of a mountain

I had been trying to climb, struggling up my whole life.

Though I never thought that

Those –two- syllables

would come in a circumstance like this one.

Black swirls on my arm

a permanent reminder

of my new place in this world.

Well if those black swirls hold

~perfection~

Then I suppose I have

NO CHOICE

but to pursue what they stand for,

Right?

-o-

Pureblood

Well connected

Slytherin

No combination holds more capabilities

Or so I've been told.

But when a (mudblood)

gets better marks

When a team of [traitors]

wins the Quidditch match

And when the {half-blood}

gets all the glory

It's hard not to wonder if there's

any truth in what I've heard.

-o-

"You're better than that, Draco.

And I'm tired of hearing that

my own son

is anything less than

a winner"

Said a man with cold eyes, staring over the supper table.

I didn't eat that night.

-o-

Never quite there.

Well connected, pureblood, Slytherin

Prefect; seeker; Malfoy; Black

And still not quite there.

Do the titles mean anything?

Here I am

Hot, stinging pain running through my veins

Blinking tears back from spilling down on

the outline of

{a serpent and a skull}

Apparently,

this is

~perfection~

Strange, it doesn't feel the way I thought it would.


Thanky thanks to Namna-dono, who reads these things before the rest of you. If you liked this, make sure you read her freeverse collection, "What's in a Name?", it's incredible and very well written.

Love to all you who read this, and additional hugs if you leave a review letting me know what you thought :)

Who do you want me to write next? I'm thinking George Weasley, but I'm not sure yet. I'm wide open to suggestions, so if you have one leave it in a review or PM.