Vicious Cycle

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: This is for the Disney Character Competition for the character Faline. Please enjoy!

Pansy, cloaked in darkness, wondered what, exactly, had left her standing at his door. Stalling for time, she stared at the polished onyx door and the subtle grooves that swirled up the wooden expanse. She considered counting them, but she realized that her anxiety had reached the point of being ridiculous. She hadn't seen him in ten years, and now, after his divorce had been published in the Daily Prophet, Draco wanted to see her. She'd noticed he'd made Astoria move out, as he was still at Malfoy Manor. Perhaps not the same home as the one she remembered visiting in her childhood, but it was his family's manor. It was his "grown-up" manor.

Pansy checked the pocket watch in her robes and discovered, to her dismay, that she had been stalling, standing like a coward at Draco's door for ten whole minutes. She was five minutes late. Pansy was grateful that she had arrived early to account for any pre-meeting nerves.

"Well, at least five minutes late means I've arrived fashionably late," Pansy murmured as she rang the doorbell.

Why was she so nervous? Granted, she was meeting an ex for the first time in ten years, but why was she getting those nagging butterfly feelings? It had been ten long years. They were no longer an item, and they had both moved on. Yet here she stood, feeling as if every nerve was on fire, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with hypersensitivity to everything around her.

Pansy was raw, exposed, and still in love with Draco Malfoy.

The air shifted suddenly, and the front door moved inwards to reveal an older Draco. He was still breathtaking, commanding every particle of her attention. His gray eyes held a familiar combination of arrogance and passion that left Pansy biting her bottom lip. She took in his lithe, muscular body and his prominent, chiseled cheekbones. Draco had only grown more enthralling in their separation; at least, he appeared to be more attractive from the longing she felt for him.

"Hello, Draco. Can I come in?" Pansy inwardly swore at herself. He had invited her to his house – of course he would let her come in. She was doing it again. She was letting him frazzle her, letting him send her spiraling into deep confusion and agitation.

Pansy refused to let him dominate her. She was not his pathetic whore. This was not Hogwarts – she refused to fawn over a man who threw her away, calling her only because he wanted her body now. Pansy had tried to believe it was because he loved her too, but she was terribly cynical now. After all, ignorance could only last for a moment. Life refused to be lived ignorantly.

"May I – that's the proper way, Pansy. We're purebloods, so I'm sure your mother instilled manners into your brain," Draco teased her, but Pansy knew it was a chess move. He was trying to see if she would submit to him now. He was trying to play his old, twisted games.

"If you're going to be rude, I'll leave." Pansy was not in the mood for games.

"You wouldn't..." Draco's voice trailed off as he realized Pansy was standing her ground. She refused to be pushed around or toyed with. He wanted either Pansy or a toy. He wouldn't play with her. His tongue running across his bottom lip did absolutely nothing to her.

Nothing – she just wanted to stare at it.

"Watch me," she asserted, but she'd already failed. Pansy was captured with a single flick of his tongue. She felt her control slipping as she watched him devour her with his eyes, and felt his arms confine her in a vice-like grasp. She was falling. Pansy had tried to assert herself - she had truly tried.

No, who was she kidding? She had lost all her dignity when she agreed to come to his house in the middle of the night an hour ago. Draco hadn't even given her proper notice of his "request," and she hadn't made him, either.

"Pansy, I don't want to play games now." No, he just wanted to feel superior and satisfied.

"No, let's not play games. We're adults now." Pansy breathed as she silently pushed him forward into the house and slammed the front door behind her.

"What is-" Draco was caught off guard by her aggression, but stopped questioning as Pansy seared his lips with a fiery kiss – if it could be called that. It was more of a brand, Pansy eagerly marking the man she wanted to claim as hers, even if he wasn't.

"Shut up and take me," Pansy growled. Draco didn't have to be told twice.


She was disgusting. Pansy was sure the word "whore" must be written across her forehead now; however, she had gotten closure from that final lapse. She was done. And while Pansy had tricked herself into believing that in the past, she was truly over him now.

Her love was gone. Last night, the sex was truly incredible – an exquisite blend of passion and hunger. Pansy had poured her soul into her last night with him. Draco had tried to make her spend the night (a testament to how she had changed and the exhilarating moments of their hours together), but she refused, if only for the sole purpose of keeping her sanity and determination.

While her original goal of gloating and walking away, leaving him without sex, had been destroyed the second it was thought, Pansy had achieved a higher accomplishment. She had broken the spell of Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Last night was legendary and haunting, but it was also never to be repeated.

She was better than Draco's pitiful owl calls, when he messaged her simply because he knew he could have and do anything he wanted with her. Pansy stepped out into Diagon Alley sore and bruised, but triumphant. She had proved she was worthy of him, and that he was never going to be enough for her. Pansy deserved the world – not a slice of it.

But could that slice of the world be her world – be her everything?

No, she was done. Pansy was never breaking down again.

A familiar silhouette hid in the shadows, watching her internal monologue (which she mouthed subconsciously), and while he knew it would be best for her to leave her to her own devices, he would never do that. After all, Pansy was his, is his, and always would be.

"Pansy," he called from the shadows, watching her startle. Her eyes lit up as they found him stepping from the darkness.

"Draco," Pansy smiled, and he watched her lose control and melt all over again. Who was she to think she would ever be free of him? They were legendary together, and while he didn't feel love, he knew better than to let her slip from his grasp. Pansy was never dull, though annoying at times. And Draco loved playing with her and provoking her from the deepest depths of her too-fragile heart.

Ten years, and she still loved him hopelessly. What a beautiful little fool, who'd damned herself as soon as she opened his message last night. Pansy had lost her battle and all of her strength in that moment. It was sad that the little flower didn't realize it, but Draco wasn't too remorseful. After all, he had been counting on it so he could have her once again.

But had Pansy ever really not been his?