Imperfections of Perfection

Additional Notes/Warning Labels:

1. This one has self-harm in it

2. DO NOT TAKE SERIOUSLY! There is no offense meant!

3. This is an angst fic (obviously!)

4. This is a SLASH, YAOI, whatever you want to call it (boy/boy) HP / DM

5. I'm still American, don't mind my Americanisms.

6. I own Acheron and the plot

8. Character Death (No I'm not telling you who! You'll find out who in the story!)

9. As Sylvia Plath said, "I write only because/There is a voice within me/That will not be still."

"We never taste happiness in perfection"

Perfection

It's a sad thing, really, that we all strive for the perfection we can never reach. Even the stars themselves struggle in their attempts of outshining the sun in the night sky.

I never found it easy to be me. I was always struggling to be good enough, but I never quite made it. Not that it matters now, I suppose, but I know that things aren't supposed to be this way.

I know it wasn't supposed to end this way. I wanted my happily ever after, but I guess I'll never get it.

It's funny, how we all think that in the end, everything will be better... I used to think that Potter would defeat Voldemort and my father would regain his sanity and tell me he was proud of me.

It didn't happen that way. Potter did defeat Voldemort after all, but my father died in the battle to keep Voldemort. A needless death in a senseless war, I suppose. My mother lost her mind. She wasn't supposed to lose her mind.

We were gone, dead before we'd ever managed to do anything. Or almost dead, because like everyone in the world, we all have skeletons in our closet. Our skeleton just happened to be a living and breathing human being.

Of course, he was older than I was - about sixteen years older than me. My parents' first child. The brother that was disowned and disinherited because he ran off with a Muggle. Not a Muggle-born or a Halfblood, but a Muggle.

He was disowned two years after my birth. In my father's words - I was a son and thus, the name would live on despite my brother's attempt at destroying it.

I didn't find out about my brother until I was seventeen and on the run. Dumbledore was dead and I had nowhere to go. I'd failed the Dark Lord and as a failure that was not an initiated Death Eater yet, I'd been given a death sentence.

I ran to the Muggle world and it was sheer coincidence, sheer luck that I ran into the brother I'd never known. He took me into his home and taught me to live like a Muggle.

It's been a year since then. Voldemort's dead. I'm eighteen years old and my brother dragged me out into the Wizarding World once again. He shipped me off to Hogwarts once it reopened so I could complete the Seventh Year.

Of course, I've got too many problems now. I've brought them all upon myself too.

It's about perfection... it's about control.

I can't control my life. My name controls my life, my reputation...

Once, my Father, Lucius controlled my life. He oversaw what I was becoming. He decided how I'd act, how I'd talk... how to walk, how to react...

Then when my Father was gone, thrown in jail, my Mother took over. She controlled me. I was never anything more than a puppet to be discarded and passed on to the next person in line, waiting for their turn at controlling me through fear, pain... and my brother, who controlled me with love.

I think he really did love me. He wanted what was best for me - for me to be happy, but I couldn't be happy.

The reason...

I'd lost control of everything when I tried to be perfect and I couldn't be perfect and I didn't know why.

Maybe it was that I saw what happened to my mother... to my father...

My father who ruled us as a dictator. My mother, who became his lifeless puppet, trying so hard to be perfect. Trying so hard to keep the name, to keep her honor...

Then the news came...

Lucius had fallen for the Dark.

x-x-x-x-x-x

She lost her mind

Someone kicked her into the back of the line

She lost her head

When they called and they said that they thought he

was dead

x-x-x-x-x-x

- Pierre Corneille.

Citation/Disclaimer(s)/Reference:

1. The lyrics at the bottom were a bit random, I guess. They're from "Dreaming of Screaming" by System of a Down.

Notes: This story will be twenty-one chapters long not counting this "prelude" sort of thing and the prologue or the Epilogue. However, I'll tell you this right now, you don't have to read the Epilogue to get the ending. This is a really strange story and I won't mind if you don't like it. It was a story that was very difficult to write. I doubt I do its subjects any justices. I do have a completed version of this story. So if you've read it, it's going up on this site now.

Keir Raizel