Inkblood
A/N: This is told from Ginny's point of view and takes place during the summer after her first year. I believe that she still loved Tom then; that's what this is about. Ginny, in this, is obviously angry at Harry for taking Tom away from her. I know that according to the books, Tom scared her and she tried to dispose of the diary, but I think that a part of her loved him, too, despite everything.
This is a double-drabble; the actual story is exactly 200 words, according to Microsoft Word.
Inkblood
I don't really know how it started, to tell you the truth, but it progressed at an extremely alarming pace. The words that flowed through the diary were my lifeblood, my salvation; I wrote back quicker and quicker 'till finally it occupied all of my time. I poured my soul out to him and got next to nothing in return, but I was young and naïve and didn't know enough to dispute this. I'd like to think that if it happened today, I would, but the thing that scares me the most is that I'm really not sure what I would do.
I watched in the Chamber as Harry stabbed the diary over and over; my blood-our blood-flowed from it in a thin trickle. It felt as though my soul was being ripped apart. I wanted to scream, but I did nothing. And he stabbed it again and again and again. The inkblood flowed like an ocean now; it was spurting everywhere and covered everything and I suddenly felt very sick. And I still remember Harry's whispered words to me: "You'll be okay; he's gone forever now." I'll never be okay again.
His eyes are the color of my bereavement.
{End}