Draco / Anastasia 1

[Shava]

She wondered if he'd planned for this to happen. She'd been avoiding him like the plague all week. What had convinced her it would be a good idea to try to corner him in a quickly emptying hallway? Oh, right, she was bloody pissed off! Still, it probably would have been better for her health to take her feelings out on a solid brick wall than to face off with him again. That had been the last class, everyone would be making off to dorms or the library, anywhere but here, outside a classroom. Even Professor Castillo, after shooting a glance their way as though trying to discern whether she should intervene or not, left the room a moment later, presumably headed for her quarters or the teacher's lounge. She'd briefly considered bolting for some private, well-hidden corner of the school, but it was too late. He was here, looking expectant, as though he'd planned for her to react this way.

Damn him!

Her hate, the pure, unadultured strength of it, made her brave. Her voice was mocking. "Oh, I see! So I bruise that pretty face of yours, and you thought you'd what? Leave me with a souvinere?" She lowered her voice, conscious of any still-listening ears. "I'm no fool Malfoy, and I won't be played with, certainly not by some pampered, spoiled brat whose never worked for anything a day in his life!" Her tone was soft, but venomous, her eyes dark with repressed fury. She gave him an incredulous look, before schooling her expression a moment later. "Messed with me? You bloody cursed me!" She felt the air around her begin to crackle, and worked to contain her emotions. "I realize that your life is worthless, Malfoy, but some of us would like to move on with ours!" The anger dissapated some, spent with the effort off appearing calm while she was simmering underneath. "You've had your fun, you got to watch me suffer, now do whatever you have to do to take your stupid mark off my body!" The last part was a whisper. She might have been angry, but not so much as to reveal the situation to the student body at large. "Let's be done with this. You hate me, I hate you, we hate each other. End of story." She worked to keep the pleading tone out of her voice, struggled with it. "I swear after this moment I will never so much as look at you again", and a blessed relief that would be, "just take. it. off!"

She smirked at his choice of words. "I bit something all right", she looked pointedly at his neck. "Nice glamours, Malfoy." The reminder that she hadn't been the only one to suffer as a result of their night together came as a relief, providing somewhat of a salve to her wounded pride. Looking into his eyes, she had no doubt he meant what he said. She no longer wondered if he would indeed kill her, finish the job her father had failed to complete. When he grasped her chin, she tensed, expecting him to leave more bruises, but his grip was only firm enough to turn her head. The mark seemed to react to his closeness, to the look in is eyes. It burned, but in a way that stoked a fire of a different kind. Her eyes widened. Would she be doomed to react to him this way forever? He was threatening her for Merlin's sake! Fresh anger came, and boldness with it. "I've already learned my lesson, Draco", his name slid off her tongue like poison. "Never expect much from a man who has to bind his bedmates."

[/quote]

[Shava]

He was very much enjoying this, watching her seethe, knowing she wanted to kill him but could not because she needed something from him. He let her spout off until she was making points out of every word. "Oh I will. Once you've paid my price. Are you sure you are ready to hear it yet? No one else can get it off of you, you know, I'm your only recourse..." His eyebrows came down as she mentioned the marks and he frowned slightly at her trying to gode him more. Such a B-witch. Was it any wonder he could not stand her?

"I assure you, Belenko, my chosen bedmates are much more attractive and desirable then you are. This isn't about attraction, it's about power. And I have all the cards right now." He released her chin as he wrinkled his nose adding (and yes, it was a cheap shot but he thought it more her level) "and definitely smell better." Didn't do for her to think he was thinking about it, oh no, but the idea of doing her again was tempting, very tempting.

Would she get feedback? A double impression of him? Would that mess with her mind even more so? How could he use that to break her, force her to bow down to him and give in...

"Do you understand how to convince a man, Belenko? Not every girl gets it, understands how to put her emotions into what she does convincingly, so I'm going to help you learn. It's not just words, but truth, the body language, the eyes, everything." he grinned dragging the moment out slightly before he gave her the key. "My price is this. When you can convince me beyond a shadow of a doubt that you consider me superior to you in everything, I'll remove the mark. Until then, you can enjoy my expertise in other more personal," he suddenly ran his other hand across the mark deliberately drawing the memories to the fore of her mind "intimate level."

He crossed his legs before she could knee him, prepared.

[Shava]

His price? Oh, she’d known there would be one. One didn’t give insult to one of the most prominent families in wizarding Britain and not pay a price for doing so. However, the mention of it peaked both nerves and curiosity simultaneously. She wasn’t sure if what he was telling her was true yet. She hadn’t yet done enough research to be satisfied that he was her only option for having the thing removed, and even if he was, she still hadn’t ruled out carving it out. The ugly scar would be preferable to having any sort of familial mark embedded in her flesh. Still, that was a bit extreme, not to mention painful. “That”, she smirked, “remains to be seen. Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘Where there’s a will there’s a way, Malfoy?” Her eyes glinted with determined malice. “I assure you, I have the will and I will find the way.” She saw his expression change, knew she had hit her mark, and reveled in her momentary success, however short-lived it might be. She smiled up into his eyes, feigning innocence, and resisted the urge to wink at him condescendingly. If he really was her only chance at being free, it was best not to completely burn the bridge before she’d had the chance to know if she could cross it.

He was reaching now. Insinuating she smelled bad was cheap, even for him, and she smiled in spite of the residual sting. She took a step toward him despite her survival instincts, close enough so that she was very near but not quite touching him. “Power?” She raised an eyebrow, eying him skeptically. “There are a million other things you could have done that night if it had only been about power, Malfoy.” She was treading on thin ice here, and she knew it. Still, the chances that he would avada her in an open hallway were low enough she’d take her chances if it meant restoring a bit of her broken pride. She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, changed her tone. “I don’t remember you complaining about how I smelled when you had your lips on my…” The memory flashed, and she let the statement drift. Unable to stay on that line of thought, she changed tacks. “I know you hate me Malfoy, I assure you the feeling is mutual. But, we both know you want me too, and I hope it burns you up inside.” The way wanting him was fanning a fire in her. She was fighting with every inch of her will power against her reaction to him, and in spite of her anger, was still losing the fight to simply loathe him.

Confused by his change of pace, she merely stared at him, waiting for him to make his point. Convince him? Convince him of what? Her stomach began to sink as she caught onto his line of thought. She could convince him all right, or at least, she hoped she could. The question was, was it worth it even to pretend to let him win. “Oh, I’m already convinced you’re superior Malfoy, a superior pain in my—“ His hand was on her, specifically on the place he’d marked her, and the memories rushed to the forefront of her mind, the kindling fire erupted, and she inhaled sharply before biting her lip, hard. It was a moment before the fury returned, and in that moment her eyes softened, wide and slightly glazed over as though she had forgotten him at present and was currently somewhere far off. In the next second, however, she returned to herself, livid.

Since he’d crossed his legs, she had to settle with attacking him verbally. She remembered very well what had happened the last time she’d tried to physically attack him anyway. “Over my dead body, Draco.”
[/center][/quote]

[Shava]

Malfoy stepped suddenly closer, looking down at her, eyes intent. "No. I have power over you right now, power no one else does. And I know your secret weakness, Belenko. There were very few other things I could do that would be as effective over you as that." Damn straight and she knew it. Malfoy had managed to put her body to work against her mind, breaking down her will. Was she scared? Panicked? Wondering how she can ever get out of such a mess? The thoughts were delicious.

"Ah but then you smelled excited, wanton, desperately desiring and it was very alluring." He smirked at her, knowing it would bother her that he knew how she was at her most vulnerable, something she could never take away from him that he had gotten her. "Now you just smell scared and fighting a loosing battle." His eyes glinted at her as he watched her face, judged her reactions to his words. His voice dropped a level as he said clearly for her ears alone "Oh yes, on your knees submitting."

As she moved from confusion to realization, his smile grew; she realized the trap that was coming and her inability to avoid it. Draco had all the cards and using her to boost his ego was going to be glorious! And when he touched her she choked off her words in mid sentence, her eyes glazing over briefly like her switch had been flipped which, in a way, it had been. "Power? Oh yes, power I have plenty of..." And then her fury returned, but in her eyes he also thought he detected fear in a small amount. her words were like a lined up perfect shot and he didn't resist. "That is the other option." She would remember his arms enough to know he wasn't playing with her mind now...

[Shava]

His closeness was distracting, not only was the curse there to contend with, but her natural carnal attraction to him was still glaringly and most unfortunately present. His voice, the intensity of it, chilled her and made it hard not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze. Now that he was closer, it was very apparent that he towered over her, which did little to help her confidence. Add to that the fact that his eyes were no longer the ice cold shade that reflected his anger, but more considering, calm, and suddenly the upper hand was entirely his, and it grated horribly. When she spoke next, she took great pains to control her tone and expression. "The only thing you have, Malfoy, is a strange set of fetishes. Branding someone doesn't mean you own them. It means you couldn't have it any other way." Which, in point of fact, they both knew was a lie, he'd supposedly slept with half her dorm and most of them still went on and on about the experience. It was sickening, really. Her weakness? Who was he kidding? "What is it that you think you know exactly?" She smirked, feeling her sense of balance return. "You know nothing about me Malfoy, nothing that matters anyway." She was actually genuinely curious about his thoughts, however. He really did know very little about her as a rule as far as she knew.

Except, ironically, for what she looked like naked.

She grinned at him then, her eyes full of a mocking amusement as she tried hard to cover the way his words affected her. Her eyes closed for maybe a second longer than was neccesary is the moments he was referring to played in double time across her memory. "You mistook excitement and desire for disgust and revulsion", she shrugged as though brushing it off. "I can I understand why in your case though, you probably don't have experience with much else." She needed to get out of this hallway, but she was far too proud to bolt. His closeness, her rolling emotions, the memories, it was becoming too much, and quickly. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Scared?" she forced a note of incredulity into her tone. "Why would I be afraid of you, Malfoy? You've done your worst already." She doubted that was true, but false bravado was better than none at all in her estimation. His voice dropped, and the whispered words made her shiver reflexively before she could stop herself. Her eyes went wide for a moment. She hadn't expected him to agree, even in those terms. Still, the idea of submitting to him, being on her knees in front of him, was repulsive, and her reaction lent venom to her response. "I have never submitted to anyone Malfoy, much less gotten on my knees. Keep dreaming."

After all, if she had to be tortured by his touch in her dreams, it was only fair.

The pure malice in the smile he wore was daunting, though she would never admit it to anyone aloud. Her eyes darkened, equal parts lust and fury. "What you have is an illusion!" she spat at him, and then lowered her voice so that only he could here. "Do you think I would want you at all if it weren't for this stupid mark?" she asked him scornfully. "One kiss in a moment of emotion-fueled insanity does not desire make, Malfoy." If she could have bored holes through him with her eyes, she would have. "I hate you so much if you were the last person on earth, I'd still kill you." Half-truth, she did hate him, but it was difficult to completely loath anyone she wanted so badly. First she'd jump him, then she'd kill him, she decided, if the opportunity ever arose. Rather than be terrified by his response to her words, as most would have been, Anya appeared to contemplate them. Would he really kill her, she wondered? The mark on his arm left little doubt that he could, and she knew he hated her, but still, the idea of his actually taking her life seemed almost surreal. When she met his eyes this time, the anger was muted, overlayed in an odd mix of fear and curiosity. "Could you really kill me, Malfoy?"

[/quote]

[Shava]

Apparently she didn't know much about branding. branding established more ownership of another human being then anything else in this world besides breaking their minds down. It said the individual had been conquered, taken, claimed. When he turned seventeen she would be one of his first victims for an imperio, that was for sure and she would serve him in depth if he had any say about it. B!tch. The fact she had tried to break him first still rankled and he wante-- no thirsted for power over her, the representative of all those who opposed him. He would break her and leave her body on some random cobblestones someday!

"Nothing that matters?" His chuckle was deep throated this time, the confidence in him complete on that score at the very least. It was also softer. "I know how you feel inside, the taste of your flesh, the smell of you with no perfumes. If I wanted to I could cast my spells with more sureness of them affecting you and finding you then anyone else can because I know you in a very real and sensual way, Anastasia..." the last words were seductive as was only right. Many magics on another required you to know your target very well and he knew her intimately.

That was power like no other.

A lover took from another as well as received learning things no true name might have encompassed as well on both a physical and mental level, learning what the other responded to and loved. It meant that he knew she desired him deeply and had let him learn her buttons to push, had received him eagerly despite bonds, and they both knew it. And having that power, he felt the urge to use it, to force her to accept him again as eagerly, to make her lose control. Much as his magic, he wanted to dominate her mind and cause her to become his slave, give up resisting him and submit. And this was now about power over another as much as any enemy; she was now his target and he felt the jaws of his trap enclosing around her...

"No, not my worst. There are...more things I considered that night, but this one felt the most enjoyable for me. " Her knees comment decided him on how he would take her next time, for sure, if nothing else to make her feel even more his toy, his possession. He felt his blood pound as she got angry and spit words back at him, pulse through his veins as his temper mounted and he longed to shut that mouth of hers for good. One kiss? No desire? She was lying to herself, that was for sure! "Belenko, you are mine whether you admit it or not and I can do with you as I please, whether put you out of your misery or send you to your own personal nirvana, I. Have. That. Power."

And like that he knew he had to prove it all to her again, hammer home the victory and as she questioned him curiously and suddenly much quieter, he struck. Out of nowhere he backhanded her, not hard so much as out of nowhere, and as she was caught off guard he surged forward, pressing her against the wall and entirely inside her personal space in a moment, hand on her chin as he kissed her again with a fury of emotion he had not shown the other night. At the same time, his other hand ripped her shirt up suddenly, sliding under it to find the mark and rub it hard, pressing it under his palm with a twist to give it maximum attention...

[Shava]

center]The intensity in his eyes would have been unnerving in the best of cases, and this was hardly the best of cases. There was a hunger in his eyes that bewildered her, mostly because she did not understand it. Draco Malfoy hated her, of that she was absolutely certain. She hated him just as adamantly, and yet...The way he drew her, despite what she insisted to herself, was not entirely the fault of the curse he'd gifted her with. Whatever she said, whatever she wanted desperately to believe, she wanted him, badly in that moment. She wanted to know him in ways that baffled her, wanted to touch and tease and possess. Her logical mind justified it as a way to salve her wounded pride, but her body pulsed with a desire that had little to do with dark magic and all to do with dark passions. Still the anger was present, and she revelled in it too. She knew how to get under his skin, knew how to jab at his pride in a way that few others were brave enough to dare. It might even cost her life some day. Looking into his eyes, she couldn't help thinking it might even be some day soon, but one thought superceded all others.

If he killed her, he would spend the rest of his life paying for it, the way he should have been paying for what he'd already done to her.

His tone had softened, making her wary, and she eyed him as though expecting him to sprout horns at any moment, or at least to draw his wand on her. He made their one night sound like something much more powerful than Anya remembered. True, he had touched her, tasted her, even known her if one chose to call it that, but one late-night encounter bourne on the crest of high emotions did not mean he knew her inner workings...She knew a moment's hesitation. Did it? Her name had never sounded that way on his lips before. Dark, but seductive rather than threatening. Her throat went dry, and she swallowed hard. The urge to press her lips to his was so compulsory it was almost tangible, but she managed to resist by reminding herself of all the awful things he'd said before this moment. Barely. He did know her intimitely, that she couldn't argue, but even as her eyes darkened in reaction to his words and tone, the response came, quick and biting. "You don't know the half of me Malfoy, and you wouldn't be able to handle it if you did." It was a challenge, one she'd likely regret making tomorrow, but it had sprung from her lips on impulse.

Dangerous things, impulses.

Her anger had almost completely taken a back burner now. She wasn't sure what kind of game he was playing, but, she could play, and it was preferrable to treading the thin ice that was his temper. "So, you admit you enjoyed it", she glanced up at him from under her lashes, mockingly flirtatious. "I guess I can start sleeping at night again." She laughed when he spoke again, one short, sharp note. "Yours?" Her voice lowered to a deathly calm whisper. "I'd like to see you prove that." He slapped her then, the first time a man had done so since she was a child. She flinched, eyes shut tightly, her body language caved in on itself into a protective stance and her eyes watered, not so much from pain as surprise. She blinked hard, and straightened, momentarily shocked. He had done many things that night in his dorm and prior, but he had never hit her. Her mind reeled, but had no time to process what had happened, because in the next moment, her body was pinned to the wall underneath his. She struggled at first, hands on his chest, pushing, with everything she had. It did not phase him in the slightest. His hand found their way under her shirt, to the mark that now pulsed with both the memories of him and the anticipation of the present. Then, as though her body could no longer handle the strain of fighting itself, the fury collapsed under its own weight, and for a few, brief moments, she responded to him, pulling rather than pushing as though she couldn't get close enough.

Her lips were smooth, pliant and responsive even as he kissed her roughly. She'd never felt such a depth of emotion from another human being before, and the weight of it drugged her senses, pulled her under. She grasped his shoulders, pressed her body into his, and revelled rather than reviled the sensations that came. All of the frustration, both physical and emotional came pouring out of her. It had been so long since she'd allowed anyone to touch her. It felt as though her body belonged to his hands, was made for his touch, and even though she knew without a doubt that those feelings were magically induced, she couldn't find enough wherewithall to care in that moment. The need for air brought with it a miniscule amount of coherant thought, and her fury at having been placed in this situation again took hold. Since he wasn't expecting her to push him, she managed to cross the hall, force the door open with his weight, and shove him into an empty classroom. Body pressed against his, hands still balled into fists against the fabric of his shirt, her eyes blazed into his, mere centimeters away. "How dare you!"[/center][/quote]

[Shava]

The reaction came soon enough as she challenged him to prove it and he struck not knowing her history. If he had known her background Draco would have chosen an entirely different way of taking her down (not because of kindness but because the other method would have broken her down faster), but in this case it worked effectively enough, starting off the point with male dominance. Following that up aggressively by rubbing on the mark she responded eager and willingly.

Maybe too willingly. Draco had not expected her response to be so quick in desire and it surprised him as he found like any male himself drawn more by a woman who wanted him then not. His heat rose, his heart began to pound more, his testosterone rose and she responded, pulling him close and pressing herself at him, trying to increase his own reaction in a clash which rapidly grew out of control far faster then he was prepared for! And then suddenly things changed.

As she pushed him backwards he found himself instead of being the aggressor, he was being pursued as a door smacked into his back and she slammed into him forcing it open quickly. Not used to his women being so forward he stumbled a step before she caught up, grabbing his shirt and nearly spitting in his face with her words! Eye narrowing he spoke with heat as well as he kicked the door behind her now "Because I give you what you want!!" And shoved her hard, slamming her own back up against the door to be rapidly followed as he took back the role of the aggressor...

- - - More than thirty minutes later - - -

Legs tangled, Draco as most men did recovered first and rolled over pulling up his pants with a frown; he was letting himself get too caught up in this chase, this hunt to drive her down. That was not something he cared for and would have to put a stop to. Grabbing her wand he tossed it across the room from where they were on the desk and moved to put a hand around her neck, firmly, not squeezing. With his head beside her he spoke into her ear as his free hand stroked the mark with a single finger tracing the lines on her. "Soon any time I call you will respond like a dog in heat and I will collar you like the b!tch you are, Anastasia," his voice didn't sound romantic as last night, it sounded possessive, as if she was already his and it was only a matter of time.

"Deny it all you want, you know you want that and me. Give in and make it easier on yourself." Letting go he stepped out of her reach and grabbed up his shirt and robe, throwing them both over his arm before stalking to grab up his bookbag.

[Shava]

It was happening again, the loss of her logical mind in the face of him and this onslaught of sensation. His hands were seemingly everywhere, and she moaned softly, conscious still of their highly public location. It was hard to remember that she'd been thinking of killing him mere moments ago, hard even to remember her own name. The relief her body pulsed with at finally being given what it wanted was palpable, and it simply obliterated everything else. Her eyes darkened, anger gave way to lust and an immeasurable need. As they fumbled into the empty classroom, she had the upperhand for mere moments before he'd taken it from her again. She didn't, couldn't care. Gave her what she wanted? In this moment it was absolute, glaring fact, and it fed her agression, created a need to make him want her just as badly as she wanted him. She didn't respond, merely winced against his lips as her back found cold stone. She dug her nails into his back, less to cause harm as in reaction to the pain that would surely leave bruises later.

--------------------- Afterwards ----------------

The haze had only just begun to clear, the stars that had exploded mere moments ago were beginning to settle into dust when she felt him shift, the first sign that he'd begun to disentangle himself. Aware this could possibly be a dangerous thing, she tried to communicate with her body that it should move, tried to work up the urge to reach for her wand, but it was fruitless. She opened her eyes slowly, gathered enough will to raise her upper half from the desk as she saw him toss her wand across the room. When he wrapped a hand around her neck, her eyes widened, and she raised her arms, but the panic ebbed when she realized he wasn't squeezing, merely grasping. The adrenaline deserted her, but the anger returned, both at her own weakness, and at him for putting her in this position, again. Her eyes narrowed at his words, the possessive note startled her, and it took a moment before she could respond. You have no idea how much of a b*tch I can be, Draco." Tit for tat after all, hadn't he said that?

This wasn't going to work.If something didn't change, he would own her before too much longer, her body at the very least. Even now, she was having trouble recovering from the aftermath of her response to him. Anger battled for dominance with a deep, saturating satisfaction. After weeks of denying herself, she could think clearly for the first time in a while. There was nothing to cloud her judgment, and it was then that she had an idea. Let him think he had won, let him think he owned her. It would make it that much sweeter when he realized he'd been had. What was a slight pinch on her pride in the face of the overwhelming victory of having outsmarted him later? So it was that she met his eyes, left her walls down so that he could see her reaction to him, see the sadness, the utter hopelessness that had plagued her for weeks since that first night. She thought of her father, of how desperate she'd been for him to love her, and let those emotions swim freely too. A single tear found its way to the corner of her eye and she let it fall.

"Okay"

She slid off the desk, and crossed the room for her wand without looking at him again. Dressing with her back to him, she turned and headed for the door. She needed to find Nathaniel Shire.

Now

[/quote]

[Shava]

Her response when she could did not surprise him really, being nasty as always but he did have her down pat and she knew it. Now she began to realize what he meant and the power he had. It was with great satisfaction that he let go of her neck and was getting off the desk when she answered. As he got his shirt, it dawned on him what she had just said and his head swiveled around with a frown.

She stood and went to her clothes, putting them on submissively and then leaving without any remarks, no backtalk, no complaints. Draco buttoned his shirt watching her, wondering if he had actually done it, though something about this didn't seem quite right. Maybe she was going to try and spell the door shut? he was slipping on his robe when she exited and he saw the door was left open. Stepping to it he watched her leave the hallway and felt puzzled.

Not a very satisfying break down, but he had heard that some went quietly. Somehow it ruined the experience, but if he really had messed her up finally it would still be satisfying indeed! getting his bag he followed out the door leaving the door open again as well so it would air out some. As he headed to find some food, he sowly began to smile more as a feeling of success swept over him, steadily growing.