Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling. If there is something in a chapter that does not, it will be stated at the bottom of the page.

A/N: Another T/G one.

Enjoy!!

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Chapter Three: Insane Psycho Redheads

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Showers pounding out a new beat
I trade my old shoes for new feet
I grab a new seat
I don't like the one I got
The fabric's wearing through
And it's wearing me out

The dress was very pretty. How she loved, adored, such pretty things that he gave her. He littered her lips with diamonds and her burgundy hair with sapphires and emeralds.

Her hair wasn't curly any more. Curly hair belonged to the girl with china dolls, lace dresses, and invisible tea cakes. She was their little puppet, their little china doll with the invisible tears painted at the corners of her eyes.

You're wearing me down

"I wish I had hair like Miss Morgana's! It's ever so pretty, like liquid gold. And Miss Lenora has pretty hair too! Look at all the black ringlets."

"I think your hair is perfect."

"Mmmh, daddy's begging for something sweet, aren't you, dear boy?"

Watching old baseball games
And low budget telethons
Ain't like watching you yourself
When you yourself is on
Got time to wander
to waste and to whine
But when it comes to you,
it seems like I just can't find the time

"He was evil." They told her with honeyed words that swamped her like syrup. She was drowning in them, completely aware of the temperature and consistency. "He's evil. He raped you. Isn't Harry such a nice boy, dearest?"

Righteous, heroic, the one who has to save the day.

It made her sick.

But then HE came back.

So watch your head and then watch the ground
It's a silly time to learn to swim when you start to drown
It's a silly time to learn to swim on the way down

It started simple enough. Fred and Hermione finally got their acts together and married in July. She was a bride's maid. Her dress was simple. It was pretty, but it was simple. Ankle-length silk that had a slightly ruffled hem, a matching halter top that was a little too small. They always forgot that she wasn't 10 anymore. That she had a chest.

The string of the halter top that went behind her neck bit into the skin like a vampire to its victim. She remembered taking it off and seeing it bloodstained. Dark red like the ink he used to write in.

It started simple enough. A long white box arrived one morning, filled with roses. But the edges were black

with ink.

If I gave you my number
Would it still be the same
If I saved you from drowning?
Promise me you'll never go away
Promise me you'll always stay
It got complicated after that.

She found her goldfish strung together in an envelope on her nightstand.

Her room was redecorated once. The rickety bed replaced by a big one. The white linen sheets replaced with satiny greens and blacks.

She was terrified and moved back to her mother's apron, hoping that it would all go away.

Closed down the last local zoo
I'm gonna win the endless war
Over who kills the last koala bear
And who in death will love him more and I

They found Ron with his neck snapped, lying on his bed one day.

Well, not they....

and not his bed...

She remembered screaming and then silence. She remembered screaming when she found her mother.....her father....

He picked them off one by one and left them for her. Sometimes he would leave messages painted with their blood.

You are always mine, strega.

He grabs me by the hand
Drags me to the shore and says:
"Maybe you don't love me,
But you'll grow to love me even more."

"What do you mean, cliched?" She asked tiredly, her voice was faltering and her skin was quickly becoming translucent.

Red haired guardian angel.

"I mean that we seem horribly common. Don't ask anymore questions." He went back to twirling her wand.

"Common? I still don't understand." She was not deterred as she struggled to hold onto the last tendril of consciousness. She looked like a china doll. He towered above her weak form.

"Having become prosaic or mundane through overuse; hackneyed." He gazed down at her as those big brown eyes drifted open and shut lazily. He sat down alongside her and took her pliant body in his arms. "If you were older, you would be the perfect foil for me. All your bright hair and innocence. Me, all dark haired and corrupted." She managed a weak smile through her heavy lids. "The oracle said that when the stars fell, you would be mine..."

"But they didn't..." she murmured, her eyes shutting. He laid her back down on the sodden floor and something akin to contrition flashed across his visage briefly.

"No, they didn't."

And I well I'm not surprised

Dumbledore never looked so old when they dragged Virginia Weasley into Saint Mungo's, pulling at her hair and laughing.

"Look at the dollies." She stated, her head lolling around, russet eyes lost of their warmth, sanity. "Aren't they pretty dollies?"

If I gave you my number
Would it still be the same
If I saved you from drowning?
Promise me you'll never go away
Promise me you'll always stay

He bought her all the china dolls she could ever want. On her dresser, the sat in a row, primly surveying the scene. Each in Victorian lace. Some in black, some in white, some in gold. They whispered the secrets of the world to her, and she told them the secrets of her daddy.

"Miss Lenora's been a bad girl," She admonished, lifting the blonde doll and turning her toward the wall. "She may not watch and she gets no cake, nor tea."

Showers pounding out a new beat
I trade my old shoes for new feet
I grab a new seat
I don't like the one I got
The fabric's wearing through
And it's wearing me out
You're wearing me down

He would dress her in barely there black satin and pick her up in his arms and spin around the room, her arms around his neck and her head lolled on his shoulder. He was her daddy. He was a good daddy that got rid of the people that tried to put her in that tiny little room. He was her daddy that put the people in time out when they whispered venomous things behind her back.

He was her daddy.

So watch your head and then watch the ground
It's a silly time to learn to swim when you start to drown
It's a silly time to learn to swim on the way down

The dress was very pretty. How she loved, adored, such pretty things that he gave her. He littered her lips with diamonds and her burgundy hair with sapphires and emeralds.
Her hair wasn't curly any more. Curly hair belonged to the girl with china dolls, lace dresses, and invisible tea cakes. She was their little puppet, their little china doll with the invisible tears painted at the corners of her eyes.
She was the china doll in the red and black lace, straight auburn hair falling down her back.

She was the china doll that he broke and never completely repaired.

If I gave you my number
Would it still be the same
If I saved you from drowning?
Promise me you'll never go away
Promise me you'll always stay