Pairing: Pansy (implied)/Harry
A/N: This is dark. Pre-warning.
Spoilers for OotP [Book 5].
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this piece. Don't sue. As I have nothing but belly lint to give, please don't bother. Plus, there are about 10 other people attempting to collect from me and they were in line first. All character belong to JKR.. were I the author, I'd have something dark like this in the book more than likely.
(what? I'm a sick person, ask Vampiress - my beta and an awesome author herself.)
She felt it climbing up her throat as it had the last time, the sickeningly sweet taste of bile. The last time had been when he had walked away, not "for the last time" he had proclaimed to her, no. He had lied then and would be lying now.
He didn't even see her anymore. No longer did they meet in empty classrooms where they would shag without any words. She had tried that once, talking to him. Impatiently he had informed her that he didn't care to hear her speak; that's not why he was there. He was there for one thing only; her reputation had reached even him in the Gryffindor Tower.
He had been angry over the loss of Sirius: the loss of innocence; the loss of everything he loved eventually being taken away. He had prowled the school looking for fights. Hexing Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had become child's play, and after several months of that the release wasn't enough. He turned his energy into listening for other ways to release. Then, almost like fate, he had heard about her tryst with Smith and he knew he had found his answer: the perfect release.
She didn't ask why he was so rough when he touched her; instinctively, she knew. He was doing the same thing she was by letting go of problems in the only way they knew how: violence. The bruises she had hidden with a simple spell had been erased from her mind until the next time.
After the first several times he seemed to lose all his humanity and began using her as a way to get off, nothing more. Her feelings, her desires, and her needs were not important. He would use, discard and forget. She couldn't. Not after the time where in his haste he managed to slam her head against the wall and caused her to bleed. The blood had trickled without her knowledge and it wasn't until later that night when Draco had pointed it out with a contempt-filled "so that's how you get your rocks off now" that she even noticed. She had felt the pain, but pain with her lover was commonplace.
Watching him leave now, from the Room of Requirement, she felt dead inside, empty. She also knew that the next time he summoned her, she would be there. It was sick, twisted, and their non-relationship; it's what they did.