Disclaimer: Oh, yes, Harry Potter is mine. All mine! *cackles maniacally*

. . . Or not.

Author's Note: Strange, short little piece that I wrote in about three minutes and felt compelled to upload, as I haven't uploaded much lately and I miss it.

This takes place during CoS, after Ginny's been possessed by Tom.

Funny, isn't it?

The way I trusted you, I mean.

I know that I'm a child, and that I'm bound to be a bit foolish at times, but really. I was lonely, and nervous, and so I spilled my heart out to you, and now I don't even feel like myself, not really. There is a part of me - an innocence - that I find myself missing so horribly.

You've changed me so thoroughly. I know that I wouldn't even think this way if it weren't for you. You've tainted me with yourself, and there's something incredibly horrifying in that.

I've always loved flowers; all kinds of flowers. Before I came here, before you ruined me, I would study them for hours, staring in wonder at the gossamer petals. I would weave dandelion chains and perch them atop my head, a crown that was somehow even more beautiful than tiaras studded with rubies and diamonds.

I don't want to make crowns of flowers anymore, and I know that it's because of you.

I find myself drawn to roses now, only roses; red roses, because they are dark, so rich, so endlessly crimson, and only one other thing can pull off that sort of red with the same carefully-spun nonchalance.

Blood.

And now I'm hurting people terribly, and I know that it's awful and it's wrong and if I could even begin to fight against you, I would.

But I can't.

I find myself no longer appreciating sunshine or fairytales or things that used to make life so effortlessly lovely.

Instead now I only want that rush, that inexplicable power, that perfect shade of red.

And not only in rose petals.