She Wore a Red Bracelet

She wore a red bracelet. It was given to her by him. Her captor, her poison - the dark side of her heart. He poured salt into her wounds; she licked them clean and forgave him. That was how they played together.

He spat her name and made her bleed when they kissed; he was the reason for her bruised heart. He was her deadly sin; her bittersweet love.

And now this bracelet.

Blood red.

It burned, it bruised, but she always wore it. She looked at it. She belonged to him. Her needs were not necessary. All she felt was fury, rage, and loathing for him, yet she was his slave and loved him. She responded to every beckoning call.

The red bracelet burned.

He needed her.

The red bracelet squeezed tighter upon her lithe wrist. If she didn't respond, he would beat her.

Eyes closed, not focusing on the pain, she resisted his poisonous call.

She resisted crying out and fought through it all.

The dark side of her heart missed him.

He was her all, he was her everything, her sin.

And yet, she couldn't take it anymore.

How long would it take before she was covered in bruises, blood seeping from every pore?

She ran, slamming her wrist against the walls of Hogwarts, trying to alleviate the pain in her wrist by breaking the red bracelet.

Burn.

Burn.

It scorched her wrist. Her hand was on fire - tingling and burning with all the bracelets mirth. It mocked her. Burning because she was weak. Squeezing because she was frightened. Pain she almost could not endear.

She screamed to get someone's attention. Anyone who responded at this point, she would treat them like a saint. They would be her angel of mercy.

She fell to the ground and pounded the stone floor with her fist, tears streaking down her face, her hair stuck to the trails of tears upon her cheeks.

The scabs on her lips from his deadly kisses were reopening, allowing a trickle of blood stream down her chin. Her heart craved his kiss, but she didn't want the pain. She didn't want to be his anymore.

She rolled over on her back and clutched her red bracelet.

Blood red.

The colour of the blood which flowed in her veins. Her hand was becoming numb from loss of circulation. Desperately she beat her wrist against the stone with no avail.

No alleviation.

No relief.

It was burning with advancing fury every passing minute. She wanted to die. She didn't want to live like this anymore. She didn't want to be a toy, a tool, or his. She owned her body. Her self.

"Potter!" she screamed as she saw him turn into the corridor. Wincing and crying out, she got to her feet, her painfully numb hand balled into a fist.

"Get it off - please, get it off!" she cried and begged. She couldn't help but plead her old enemy.

His fingers held her wrist, his green eyes staring her down. The red bracelet was glowing feverishly.

"It burns, and squeezing..." was all she could pant to explain in desperation, she was out of breath from dealing with the bloody bracelet he gave her.

"Put this bracelet on," he said to her. "It'll help us stay together - always in touch." He looked her in the eye and snapped the red bracelet around her wrist, smirking. "It'll keep you faithful."

She can't believe she thanked him for it. She almost couldn't speak the bracelet was causing every vein in her body to burn. It was stabbing her wrist, and twisting, and squeezing tightly.

It was going to break off... How could her wrist take it?

She couldn't take it.

"I want to die, Potter..." she whispered, clutching his cloak to keep her upright.

She closed her eyes. She felt Potter's hands on her wrist trying to remove the bracelet hurriedly. He had his wand out and everything.

"It'll keep you faithful."

"Kiss me," she mumbled, thinking of his very words he had said when he gave the bracelet to her. She was trying to hold onto Harry Potter's cloak with all the life left in her. His arms were around hers, holding her up.

But suddenly, his face was really close to hers, lips almost touching. She opened her eyes; a tear escaped her bright blue orbs. She needed a moment of unfaithfulness.

Just a kiss and he was her savior.

"Please," she whispered, "save me."

His lips covered hers, blood streaked in all their glory. He was soft and gentle in his kiss, like a calm breeze before a storm. Breathing life into to the pit of her soul. It felt as if it could go on forever; their lips melding together, matching perfectly, the kiss was like a song.

In spite of her enjoyment, they parted as the red bracelet clattered on the stone floor.

The pain had ended. The war was over.

She had won.

And all she could do was hug him, weeping delicately into his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Who did this to you?" he asked, quietly. She relished in his warm embrace and sighed at the feeling of safety.

"It's over now, thank you," she said. She couldn't say his name. She never wanted to have anything to do with it.

"Will you promise to keep me safe?"

Harry patted her on the back, she could feel him nod. "Of course, Pansy."

It had to be the first time in months that her name wasn't spat from anyone's mouth, or said with a tone of hatred. She tightened her grip on her hug and let out a sigh of relief into his cloak.

"Do you forgive me for what I've done?" she asked, wanting to cry for wronging the person who saved her from a lifetime of torment.

"If you come with me, you're forgiven."

She couldn't help but follow him.

Never again would she fall to striving for false glory, especially being owned in a relationship with Draco Malfoy.

The red bracelet turned to dust.