A/N: Freeverse seven- prompt is capture.
strong
he whispers
ghost of a ghost's breath
slipping into her ear
crucio
he shapes it
lets it soar free
and she lays on the ground
shakes beneath a thousand knives
shivers as a the fire burns her skin
but-
she's still left whole
(*)
he always says
Ginevra
her name beautiful
on his lips
part of her hates him
because he rips away
the only friendship she has
replaces it with his pain and
the darknwss becknening
part loves him
because to him she is
Ginevra
not little sister
Harry's crush
little Weasel
(*)
the blood stains her hands
red, red like
sunsets
leading on the night
(*)
don't give in now
it's a command
a plea
she doesn't know
if he wishes for her to slip
into the land of half formed dreams
where the
pain-knives-fire
can't hurt her
prove he's in command
or if he wants her to
resist
stay when her skin is
uncut
but her soul instead
(*)
my Ginevra
he whispers
benediction
prayer
plea
over again and over
as he takes the
fire-red-life
leaves
cold-white-night