Today I woke up with his skin under my fingernails and the taste of ink in my mouth.

I wrote to him everyday. I would pour my soul out to him. I would write into the late hours of the night. Write and write until the skin on my fingers would crack and the blood dripped on the pages, and he drank it all, the blood, the ink, and my soul. I gave him life. In return he promised to make me his queen. He promised that after all of this was over I would never have to wear a hand me down robe again.

Everything was going as planned. It was perfect. We were going to rule the world. But Potter decided to play hero and save poor innocent Ginny.

They said he possessed me, lied to me. And I played along with them. Then they dismissed it. Decided that I was too young to truly be affected by him. They said I was just a tool he used.

I went back to being perfect, innocent Ginny. Everyone thought I was so pure. My name alone calls for that. Virginia. Virgin. If they only knew.

Today is my last here at Hogwarts. After this day we are all to join in the war against Voldemort and his deatheaters. Everyone expects me to become a healer for the light.

But for me there is no war, no light, no dark, no Voldemort or deatheaters. There is only blood, ink, and Tom. My Tom.