Doll

She looks up at me, a tiny fragile thing that is easily broken, and I think of delicate porcelain dolls moving and talking. Pale skin dotted with freckles, so perfect that it's possible she just might be a doll. Hair flaming around her shoulders and face. She tucks a wispy strand nervously behind her ear.

Her eyes, big pretty eyes, big and brown and trusting. Filled with fear as I stare at her for an endless moment, and thrust the book at her.

"Here - take it, girl - it's the best your father can give you..." My voice is hoarse, something I unfortunately cannot mend, mixed with thick emotion and anger and lust.

The brood of Weasleys, the Boy-Who-Lived, and the Mudblood stare at me, hating, wondering how I can be so awful to them. I sneer and slip away, taking Draco with me, to watch from the shadows.

Little Ginny will grow up to be beautiful, I can see, as she trails behind the leaving group, turning the book over in her hands. My breath catches - this is the important moment, when she decides to keep the diary or tell.

When she opens the text and sees the little black diary tucked inside, she gives a quiet, shocked gasp, staring down at it. She glances out behind her, checking for the stuff of nightmares, but cannot see us. She has no clue what it could be, but after a long, tense moment, slips it into her pocket so the clerk doesn't find it.

The others expressed doubt when I said she would be the one to do it, but my-Lord-in-the-diary agreed and wanted to use her. My heart tells me she has enough talent to bring him out. I can only hope it won't kill her, little doll. She's so delicate. I want to be the one to shatter her to pieces.

***

Five years, and I was right. She is flushed and exhilarated, looking up at our Lord with awe. I knew she had enough talent to do it. As He stretches and looks at his body, firm and real again, she has eyes only for him. However much I want her to look at me like that, I know that she is His, body and soul. He will claim her soon, and there is nothing I can do.

Still fragile, little Ginny, still as much a doll as ever, even more beautiful. Reminiscent of that first day, when she started on her path down to the darkness, she tucks a bit of hair behind her ear and takes his arm. They slip off together, and I stand and stare through hooded eyes, wanting her desperately.

I turn my back to the others, letting them clean up the mess, and try to control my ragged breathing. Snape appears at my side, black eyes boring holes into mine. "Come to your senses, Lucius," he says harshly. "Don't be such a fool."

I know he is right, but wave him away, unable to think of anything but her petite form, her lingering, delicate scent. The longing has only grown stronger with age, and I am now the powerless one. What irony; I was the first to start her corruption, and I cannot complete it. I grow flushed with rage and jealousy, knowing that I will never be able to shatter her.