A/N:I don't own Harry Potter
Word Count: 589
Warning: manipulation, possession, sexual themes, masturbation
A shell,
that's all she was now
an empty shell
a hollow girl
she'd poured herself
all of her into
that diary, into him.
In a world where
everything was so busy
so different
he was a constant
a companion
a friend
a first crush.
She'd imagine how he looked
little glimpses reflected
into her open mind
handsome
dark haired
a perfect smile that
never reached his moss
green eyes.
She thought about him at night,
when she was alone.
She thought about
him as she explored
her newly developing body.
She imagined his long slender fingers
touching her budding breasts
as she explored them
with her own less graceful
fingertips.
She imagined his mouth
covering hers
as she moaned beneath his touch.
She dreamed about his fingers
traveling lower
along her flat stomach
toying with the band of her knickers.
She knew what adults did
behind closed doors.
She'd heard the Talk,
learned about her changing body.
Everyone seemed to think she was still
a child, she wasn't a child!
She wanted the same things the
older girls wanted.
Tom was the only one
she allowed herself to imagine now.
Once, maybe it might have been Harry,
but no, Tom was the only one who
seemed to notice her.
Tom, who only existed in
the pages of the diary.
She could tell him everything,
anything, confess her wants,
her secret longings,
the urges she didn't quite understand.
He understood,
instructing her where to
touch,
how to touch.
She let him into her mind,
allowing him control of her body.
He used her own fingers to explore all
the changing places.
Under his control,
she felt as though she was seeing them,
feeling them, for
the first time.
The little patch of red hair that
hasn't been there previously,
then lower, touching the spots
no one talked about,
as she found sudden pleasure
from him using her fingers to
explore these private places.
He stopped, taking her wand from
her nightstand.
A whispered spell,
one she'd never cast before,
now spoken in her voice,
but it was his words, his spell.
The world became silent around
her, ignorant to her moans,
the tiny little sounds that escaped
her lips uncontrolled
as he used her
as he took her into pleasure
she'd never dreamed possible.
She was his, sweating and panting
as he released her mind leaving her
begging,
begging for
him to take her again,
for him to control her again
for him to use her again.
And he did!
She reveled in the pleasure,
in the new discovers she made
about her growing body
her body arching beneath her hands
the same hands that only moments before
had been covered in chicken blood,
only moments before had been taking
lives.
She knew she was losing control,
losing herself to him,
that he was taking her mind when
she hadn't asked,
when he needed something,
the blood, the feathers only
small hints about what she'd become.
She was sore upon waking most nights,
her body aching, confused,
exhausted
from him using her.
The blackouts started,
pieces of her memory missing
from when he was completely
in control, completely her.
She'd opened her mind,
her heart to him, only to have
them corrupted
blackened into something
she no longer recognized
as darkness claimed her and
she prayed to anyone listening
for it all to end,
for him to love her again,
for him to touch her tenderly
again,
for the love she'd thought she'd
found to once again be hers.