It had been so long ago and yet she still remembered. He was still imprinted on her retina forever more. In a dark mahogany wooden chair with red cotton cushions, she sat by the window as the rain poured. Her fingers tapped to a rhythm-less tune over the glass as her eyes stared out, though they weren't focusing on anything in particular; at least not anything of this time.

It was his icy gray eyes she saw, his delicate slim nose, his high and prominent cheekbones, his chiseled jaw and of the white, almost ethereal complexion of his skin. It was on his aristocratic features she thought of now. Pansy Parkinson clutched at her heart, gasping as she did so, her eyes closing tightly. The memory she had of him was still intact, his arrogant smirk still burnt her every time she thought of it. He was so beautiful, so intoxicatingly beautiful.

She was awoken from her daydream by a deep voice booming outside her door. "Pansy darling our guest will be arriving soon will you come out of your sanctuary?" Almost dreamily she turned to the wooden door, her eyes on the round gold knob.

"Just give me a moment," she called back running a nervous hand through her shoulder length black hair. She stared down at it scowling, so boring, so straight and plain just like the rest of her.

Draco's POV

Grinning and smiling he entered the manor that today held one of the many pureblood's gatherings. He hated them all but still he beamed shaking hands with this one, then the other and then kissing their wives shortly on the cheek. Many times as he did so, they would find ways to slide a note into his hand, and he would smile on as if nothing had happen. Though he did respond to a few of their requests, sneaking into their beds in the middle of the night when their husbands were up late at work or in their studies.

Draco Malfoy held his composure, not once did he waver, he had been taught far too well for any silly mistakes. He stood now in this manor; her manor, so very close to his former lover. His thoughts of her had not been forgotten, they couldn't be forgotten because he wouldn't let himself forget, though he doubted he ever could. She had left her mark, a tattoo for ever etched on his heart.

The sound of her name made him stiffen, his eyes roaming the room for her small, fragile body and her short black hair. And there she was her back to him in a little black dress, which accentuated her bare, milky white legs. Astoria's grip tightened on his arm, though he ignored his wife, his eyes devouring Pansy, cursing the constant need to blink. It had been far too long since the last time he had seen her. It was impossible for him to feign indifference, to feign that she hadn't captivated him. He had pretended once before she held no interest to him, but this time his eyes were out of his control; his beating heart was too out of his control.

He watched as a man about his age made his way to him, tearing him out of his musings. "Draco," said the tall brown haired man. It was his old mate, Blaise Zabini, the now spouse of his former lover Pansy Parkinson, or should he say Mrs. Zabini.

Pansy's POV

At the sound of his name Pansy spun around. Indeed he was there, his scent was uniquely his and from the moment he had entered the room she had known he was there but was too frightened to look for him. She was frightened of the way she would feel; of how she felt now. He was even more handsome then she remembered as she watched him grin at her husband, his wife's arm draped around his. Astoria was so very beautiful, so sophisticated, so unlike her. Pansy pouted as she stared at him, sipping on a glass of sherry.

"Pansy darling come and greet the Malfoys," her husband had said as she hesitantly made her way to them, her mind far in the past. She wished she could touch him now, feel his soft skin underneath her hand. She remembered so vividly the feel of him, the feel of the silk sheets underneath their sweaty bodies as they rolled around in them. "Draco it's been so long," she smiled, a pleasant smile she hoped, she couldn't really know, her thoughts were a rumbling mess.

"Indeed," said Draco as he took her hand in his and kissed it. Pansy all but died then. Her eyes staring steadily at him, and she could have swore his were burning right through her. Draco pulled away as she turned to face Astoria, his wife. She needed a constant reminder of this, she was his wife, and she was nothing more than a former forgotten lover. "Astoria, nice to see you again."

"Likewise," she responded, her voice was soft and husky. No wonder she had driven Draco away, how could she not. Pansy was nothing compared to her.

They nodded their heads and Pansy went along with her husband, greeting their guest in turn, trying though impossible as it was to forget he stood so close, to shut off his smell, to break the hold he had on her. But, if five years hadn't done it how could a mere hour? Pansy bit on her lower lip as her mouth quivered. She was feeling queasy and her body was shaking. She gasped trying to catch her breath, but she couldn't. He was staring at her, she was sure; she felt it burning through the back of her head. Laughing, she had made an excuse of going for another drink. This she did, though it wasn't another drink she wanted-It was to watch him watch her. From the left of the bar she looked up. Her eyes caught his gray eyes rather instinctively as he stared at her. They held that same gaze, the same one that had been haunting her for all these years.

Pansy turned away as if she couldn't bare the sight of him any longer, she had to return to her husband before she could hide. Blaise gently rubbed her arm as she stood next to him, her head resting against his upper arm. He loved her she knew, but perhaps not more than he loved his work, or his old aged firewhiskys. Pansy was breaking out in a cold sweat and she knew why, he still stared at her and it still made her body shiver. She had to escape, she couldn't bare the agony. She excused herself to her husband and left the hall. She couldn't be there, not when he was so very close and his objective was to torment her. The wound in her heart was ripping open; claws it seemed were tearing at it. Tears fell down her cheeks as she shakily ran up the stairs to her chamber.

Why couldn't she forget him? Why had she returned, she knew this would happen. She knew that returning here was a bad idea but still she did, against her own pleas she turned and she returned to this god forsaken place. She returned from Rome to him, returned to his cruel stare, to the stare that always laid her bare. Pansy opened the door of her chamber as she wiped away her tears. Soon he will be gone and she would beg Blaise to return, beg him just as she begged him to come back, for what, she did not know. She sighed bitterly-Of course she knew why, to see him again, to have him strip her bare with his intent stare.

Slowly she slid off the thin straps of her black dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as she stepped out of it. Again she found herself staring out of the window as the rain poured down, unaffected by her sorrow and unaffected by the tears she shed. Her fingers tapped to the same rhythm-less tune; her eyes blurred with the tears that fell. Suddenly she began to shiver though she felt very hot. She gasped, her nostrils filling with expensive cologne, a small swift of fresh air, and sweat. Her sob froze in her throat. His scent. She spanned around, he was standing as gracefully as ever at the foot of her door. Waiting for her to invite him in perhaps and when she didn't he moved forward. Pansy reached for the covers, but he grabbed her hand shaking his head slowly. Then the sob escaped, she didn't mean it to but she couldn't help it. His hand was so soft, never had he lifted his hand in hard labor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Draco trailed his thumb over her bottom lip, she whimpered as her lips quivered, his lips curling from the sides into a tiny smirk. His gray eyes locked onto her blue ones, staring fixedly as he trailed his fingers from her lips to her neck and down to the rest of her body. She regretted undressing herself now standing there in only her undergarments.

"You knew I would come." She nodded. How she had hoped beyond hope he would follow.

"But my husband, he's downstairs if he ente-"

"He will not come, his guests have him too far entertained, it will be long before he comes looking for you." She gave a small nod, she already knew this.

"But your wife! Astoria-"

"I've sent her home," he drawled trailing his fingers down her neck and the small of her back. She moaned and this seemed to delight him.

"If this happens I will be gone in a weeks' time." Pansy said trying to sound strong but her voice had no conviction.

Draco's smirk widened, it was cynical and mocking her. "You would have gone even if this did not happen, and I'm glad you're giving us a week."

"Draco this is so very wrong," she gasped. Draco pressed his lips against her neck, sliding his long fingers up her thighs.

"We never put much in store for right or wrong," he mused, his eyes on hers again. He stared at her like no other ever had. It was as if he could read her, as if he could look into her very soul. She sighed at her content; this wasn't how she had wanted them to end up but it was good enough.

"I will leave, you know," she said softly.

He nodded. "I know." Draco pressed his full pink lips against her thin ones. She moaned, they were so soft, so real and not a dream. It was not one of the many dreams of him that haunted her every night since the day he had left her.

"This won't change anything Draco, I will leave."

"You've already said," he said softly as he pulled her closer, his lips on her neck, nibbling on her sensitive area.

She would leave, she knew, and never come back. He knew this too, but still he held her and still she held him, at least just one last time...