A/N: I apologise, it's crap.
It comes in threes.
One…
So lightly, just a hint of what's to come. A test – of the razor's sharpness, of your limits, of how well you're feeling today. A straight white line, staring for a moment before delayed reaction kicks in and it remembers to bleed. One is lonely, an unhappy red line alone in a sea of skin.
Two…
Stab it in and pull sharply – listen to the familiar hiss of the flesh tearing apart. The wound gapes and ruby red tears well and glisten and slide down faster than you ever thought possible. Drop the razor like it's on fire and make a grab for the tissue before you make a mess. The blood wets your fingers through the tissues and you stare at the blossoming pattern of red that grows larger and larger. By now you know, two is never enough.
And now, gather up courage; gather up that elusive Gryffindor courage for the one you will never forget.
…Three.
