Chapter 1: What is Perfection?

Am I Perfect Yet?

Am I perfect yet? I ask the test soon to be graded.

Am I perfect yet? I ask the food not eaten.

Am I perfect yet? I ask the blade that drips blood.

Am I perfect yet? I ask another thing soon to be failed.

You're not perfect yet. The test yells back at me.

You're not perfect yet. The fat rolls in the mirror scream.

You're not perfect yet. The blood in the drain cries.

You're not perfect yet. The father spats with anger in his eyes.

Hermione P.O.V.

This is the question that I have asked myself for years, it followed me to Hogwarts and even into my 7th year. I know that I am not perfect, even if I am the Head Girl. Who am I? I am Hermione Granger. People look at me, and think that I am the picture of perfection, but I know that I am fat and will never be good enough.

To top off my imperfect life the Head Boy for this year is Draco Malfoy, the person that will more than likely remind me of how fat I am nearly every day. I guess that I will just cut the calories a little more. I need to start today, but I'm over my allotment for already.

I move to the bathroom that Malfoy and I both share, shove my fingers down my throat, and watch as everything rushes out of my stomach.

Draco P.O.V.

Great, not only must I be head boy, but the head girl is Granger. Why must my damn father always insist on perfection. Nothing lower than an O for his child. So what, the war is over, no one with the Malfoy name could ever have a future. Especially not unstable me. I go from complete bliss to the darkest depression.

To try to control these, I let blood. Just mine and after all if I die no one would ever care. No one at school, it would just be another disappointment to my father, and maybe my mother would cry. I have nothing to leave behind and I know it.

Just thinking about that I need to cut, luckily I keep my wonderful blade on my person at all times.

I head towards the bathroom that I am forced to share with Granger to find it already occupied. I go to knock then hear the sounds of vomiting. This makes me forget about my blade for a moment and worry about Granger.

I hope that you liked this. The characters do not belong to me, but the plot and the poem are all my ideas. Please comment and tell me if I should continue.