Writen for HP/DM Drabble Competition, obviously
slight HBP spoiler
Arabesque crimson streams twisted and streaked through the over-flown sink water, now freely seeping over the basin to the floor. He could only stare on and watch as the two were joined, spiraling into the drain.
It was instinct.--torn, broken now, shining brightly in contrast, but they were both broken now.
And in all its austerity where there might've been promises, deep breaths, and desperate urgency, all of it disappeared, slowly mixing together before draining away.
Distantly, Harry could hear an echo of someone screaming. It was only until after Snape arrived that he even noticed it was himself.