Stolen Away :Sive: [CLOSED]

[archer]

Archer didn’t believe that the world was supposed to be like this. His eyes slowly drifted up to the castle that was in front of him. The windows that had been smashed by falling bodies were repaired as if nothing happened. The burnt North Tower had been re-bricked as if sealing in the secretes that the Battle At Hogwarts had trapped inside. Archer Grayson always thought that if he strained his ears enough, he could still hear the sounds of screaming as the fallen Death Eaters died within those walls. They were his friends...his family. They were his everything. And they had all been stolen from him by the likes of the Order of the Phoenix.

The history of war is written by those who’ve won, and Archer’s side had not won. The deaths of so many noble wizards had been written off as mere deaths for the greater good. Minvera, Potter, Weasley, and Granger had taken the murder of his friends and family and twisted it into something that didn’t even deserve the light of day. That was why he hated them so much. He hated all of them and one day...one day very soon, he would make them all pay for what they had done to him. It was this type of vengeance that frightened everyone about Archer Donovan Grayson.

With a frustrated grunt in the castles general direction, Arch turned away from the building which he hated more than anything in the world. He turned away and sauntered slowly toward the Quidditch Pitch where he knew he would find some sort of relief, no matter how short lived it might be. If there was one thing at this school that would clear his head, it would be the Pitch. Quidditch did wonders for the Slytherin Captain.

He didn’t even bother to stop in the changing rooms for his locker and broom, instead quietly muttering, ”Accio Nimbus 2002.” Some might have thought him lazy for opting for a spell in lieu of getting the broom himself, but Archer was a man who needed what he needed right then and there. Waiting for his ride to arrive was practically the worst part. With a swift extended arm, he managed to grasp it out of the air as it flew toward him, his muscles rippling in response to having his most beloved broom in his hands again. He could feel the instant wave of relief passing through his veins, his heart slowing down, his breathing speeding up. Quidditch. A drug that seemingly never failed.

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

Sive was feeling restless. It was difficult, being back at Hogwarts like this. She had been here all last year, and fought with the other members of the DA to keep some remnant of the Hogwarts they knew and loved as the Death Eaters had taken over. When all else failed she had hidden in the Room of Requirement, along with most of the DA and many other students. It had been hard, but they'd made it through.

Then, of course, the final battle. Sive had fought on the side of the Order of the Phoenix. She had seen people die, friends of hers, teachers, classmates. And she had killed. That was the hardest thing to come to terms with. Sive knew she had killed Death Eaters. And even though they were bad, even though they'd been trying to hurt her and her friends, they were still human beings. And Sive had killed them.

Sive was an immensely powerful witch. When she was a child, born to Muggle parents, that had been a huge problem. When she came to Hogwarts she had had a lot of trouble controlling her magic. She had raw power, but the skill to use it eluded her. It had been scary sometimes. Sive never thought of herself as a particularly skilled witch. She had a lot of difficulty doing the more complex, subtle spells. And when she did a spell in which pure magical energy was a component, it often went wrong; needed a trickle of water? Sive would spout a fountain jet from her wand.

But Sive was very intelligent, and her teachers were very patient. Sive read a lot, taught herself the theory of the spells she was trying to do. She worked hard and slowly began to master the spells she needed for her OWLs and NEWTs.

Then, in the final battle, something in Sive just clicked- or maybe something had snapped. When she saw Death Eaters attacking the castle, her home, she had been furious, and that fury had been dangerous. Sive shuddered to think of the two Death Eaters she had sent flying through a brick wall; they had died on impact. But there were things Sive could feel proud of too. She'd finally managed to control her magic more, and harness the skill needed in duels. She had duelled many Death Eaters, and won (obviously, or she wouldn't be here today). Her duelling style was fast, intricate, and ferocious. And Sive had also managed to produce the strongest shield charm of her life, at one point not just protecting her, but those surrounding her from hexes.

So Sive had mixed feelings about the battle. But she was, of course, glad they had won. More than glad; there weren't words to describe it. She leaned back in her seat, looking out across the pitch. It was a clear, mild day. There were only a few clouds in the sky, and the September chill was only just starting to creep in. As Sive watched, someone walked onto the pitch, and summoned their broom stick. It flew into their hand, and they turned slightly, and Sive could see who it was; the Slytherin Quidditch captain, and all around nasty piece of work, Archer Grayson. Sive didn't know where Grayson had been during the last year at Hogwarts, but she suspected his parents had taken him out of school. Not many Slytherins had stuck around to defend the castle.

Sive herself played a lot of Quidditch, and was very good. She was also a Gryffindor, and therefore they were rivals... well, in Quidditch at least. Sive had to keep reminding herself not to tar all Slytherins with the same brush. They had to stay united. If they let old animosity creep back in they'd soon find themselves in the exact same position they were last year. They had to learn from history, not repeat it.

But still, Sive was not the Slytherin boy's biggest fan. "Getting in some much needed practice, are we, Grayson?"

[archer]

Grayson was about to mount his broom when he felt the presence of someone else on the pitch. And when Archer thought that he could feel her, he actually meant it: He could actually feel her breathing - it almost felt like she was breathing cold air onto his neck, causing his entire body to go a into a more rigid formation. That’s how he knew that it was Sive. There was something about the girl that was ill-putting to Archer but he could never quite figure out what it was. She seemed to always be emitted this weird sort of low-hum energy. He wasn’t sure if anyone else felt it, but he knew that he most certainly did and that was what freaked him out the most.

"Getting in some much needed practice, are we, Grayson?"

[/i]

With a slow turn of his shoulders, he squared his body to her and offered her what appeared to be a smile. Of course, the emotions undying the smile were nothing friendly of the sort. She had been at the battle. He had seen her. He had seen what she had been doing. While many of the other students had been throwing harmless hexes, Sive had been the one dropping Death Eaters like flies, ”I’ve been practicing all summer.” Archer answered her cooly and then folded his arms across his chest. Oh yes, he hated her. Just as much, he thought, as he hated the bloody Headmistress of this school. If he wasn’t here to exact his revenge, he would have been off rounding up Death Eaters already. But as it stood, Arch knew that he had to be around Hogwarts, no matter how much it pained him.

”And what are you doing out here?” He asked as he narrowed his eyes. He knew that Sive was on the Gryffindor team. He couldn’t exactly remember what position she played though, having been away from school last year. Well, not that they actually played much Quidditch last year. The Carrows and Snape had decided that Hogwarts was better off without all the nonsense that was Quidditch, ”Looking for me?” He asked, testing the waters around her. He knew more than well that she wasn’t here looking for a good time from the resident Slytherin Prince (That was the title he had adopted after Draco Malfoy had left Hogwarts last year...he had stolen his title, and all the women that swooned over the coward). He looked down at his watch and then back up at Sive, ”If you’re looking for a good time, Parry, I’m afraid I’ve only got ten minutes before I’m supposed to start practice. It’ll have to be a quickie.” He smirked at her and then unfolded his arms, tossing his broom back and forth between his hands. That would piss her off, he was sure of it. [/size][/blockquote]

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

Sive watched, amused, as Archer turned slowly to face her. He squared his shoulders and stared her down, as though he was going to intimidate her. Sive had to admit, that under the right circumstances the Slytherin could have been intimidating. He was easily over 6 foot, and when they stood on level ground Sive knew he would tower over her- and she wasn't exactly short. He was all muscle, and broad shouldered. He played Keeper on the Slytherin team, and he filled any hoop he flew in front of. Sive was a Chaser, and had faced him down more than once. He was a difficult opponent, but Sive was quick; they were evenly matched.

As much as Sive hated to admit it, the Slytherin Captain was also quite obviously handsome. Not that she thought about that sort of thing, or found him attractive in any way. But girls- idiotic girls- swooned over him, and it would have been ignorant of Sive to pretend she didn't know why. So, under the right circumstances, Archer Grayson could be very intimidating; but those circumstances didn't involve Sive. Sive was not easily intimidated, and met Archer's gaze easily.

Archer gave Sive a forced smile, and Sive's guard instantly went up. The smile was far from genuine, and he didn't exactly look happy to see her. Was a Quidditch rivalry all that was behind that? Or was it something else? Sive had to keep reminding herself to play nice. It wasn't easy, but she smiled back, and hoped hers looked like less of a grimace than Grayson's.
"Good," she replied, slightly cockily "maybe you'll have a chance at saving some of my shots this year." She knew full well that Grayson always had a shot at a save, but she'd rather die than admit it.

Grayson folded his arms across his chest, and stared at Sive with something that resembled loathing. Sive's back was definitely up now, and she stood up, climbing down from her seat onto the pitch so she could face him properly. She had been right about him towering over her.

”If you’re looking for a good time, Parry, I’m afraid I’ve only got ten minutes before I’m supposed to start practice. It’ll have to be a quickie.”


Sive's expression turned to a scowl as Grayson offered her a 'quickie'. As though she would ever even consider sleeping with him, and in as undignified a place as the Quidditch pitch! The blatant disrespect rankled Sive, and she had half a mind to hex him into a million pieces- something not beyond her capability. Her hand itched for her wand, but she controlled herself, which wasn't easy for Sive. She had a hot temper, but she knew that hexing a Slytherin was not the way to start off the school year. For what felt like the millionth time she reminded herself to play nice. She didn't want Grayson to see that he'd gotten to her in any way.

"Don't you wish, Grayson." She said, coldly. "Pine all you want, but that's never going to happen. You'll just have to get over me." The way Archer was tossing his broom back and forth was really starting to get on Sive's nerves, and she reached out and grabbed it mid-toss, holding it tightly between Grayson's open hands.

[archer]

Archer sensed that she was getting nervous as soon as it happened - or at least, he took it to be nerves. For all he knew, it might have been something different entirely. But he could definately see the obvious change in the way that she was standing and presenting herself to him. She was a bit more on guard than she had been a few moments ago. Then she smiled back...and it was just as forced as he knew that his had been. The pair of them weren’t exactly starting off on the right foot, already dragging up the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry that they had fought so hard to abolish during the War. But he didn’t care. He wanted to drag it up. He wanted to beat the dead horse until it died a second time: Archer Grayson was looking for another war and he knew it. He knew it down to the very center of his core. Perhaps he would start with Sive Parry.

”I’ve saved loads of your bloody shots, Parry,” He countered, taking slight offense. He wasn’t good at much, but he was a good Quidditch player, he knew that. For Sive to insult him in that respect meant that she was trying to strike a nerve and he was not alright with that. He cracked his knuckles slightly with his hands and then raised an eyebrow at her. She was good at Quidditch herself, and he knew that she probably took as much pride in it as he did, which meant if he wanted to strike a nerve...then, ”Gryffindork, I’m surprised that no one ever taught the Lions how to play Quidditch. Your chasers have the worst offense this side of London and your beaters couldn’t hit a stationary target ten meters away.” He said rather lazily and ran his hand through his rather grown-out hair. He was in the mood for a fight, he could feel it brewing in his veins. He was already poking around in an open wound, trying to draw more blood from Sive.

”Pine all you want, but that’s never going to happen. You’ll just have to get over me.”

She grabbed the broom in the middle of the air and Archer felt his instincts take over for a moment. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it slightly to the side, enough so that he would have a steady hold over her. She was short, weaker than him in brute strength, so he knew that he would have a pretty good chance of keeping her where he wanted her for now, ”Don’t touch what isn’t yours, Little Lion.” Archer growled into the air between them, his pale eyes staring into her with such intensity that if thoughts could cause explosions, than he would have already exploded her into a million pieces. He could feel hate coursing through his veins like dangerous fire, threatening to consume him if he didn’t get it under check very soon. He grabbed the broom out of her hands and threw it to the ground beside them, then let go of her wrist, attempting to push her backwards a few feet. He needed personal space and he needed it now.

He turned away from her and walked toward the other side of the pitch, leaning against the stadium’s walls as he scanned the grassy area in front of him, ”Deep Breaths, Arch.” He reminded himself. He wouldn’t want to do anything stupid. At least not yet. Not since he hadn’t collected all the following he needed to begin another war. Soon...he would exact his revenge very soon.

[/blockquote]

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

Sive was fuming inwardly at his snide remarks about her Quidditch team. She knew that he knew they were complete and utter rubbish. Sive was one of the best scorers on the team, possibly in the school. They almost always out scored the Slytherin chasers when they played them. If it wasn't for Grayson annoyingly filling hoops like he was half troll, they would win on goal scoring alone, without the snitch. But Harry was back this year, and Harry never missed the snitch. And as for their beaters, well, Grayson must have forgotten about their last match. Which was understandable, considering he'd been whacked in the head by a bludger sent his way by a Gryffindor beater. Even though it had been well over a year ago, Sive remembered it fondly. To top it off, it had lead to her scoring a goal for Gryffindor.

Sive tried hard to keep her cool, to not let him see that he had gotten to her. Because that was what he wanted. She could see clearly that he was trying to aggravate her, start a fight. Well fine, she was done playing nice, that was for sure. If he didn't want to put the past aside, and start fresh without the old Gryffindor Slytherin rivalry, that was fine by her. Why would she want to be friends with this arrogant prat, anyway? She could feel anger coming off him in waves, despite his cool voice.

When Archer grabbed her wrist, Sive was shocked, but mostly angry. Physically he was stronger then her, and she thought it cowardly of him that he would grab her like that. Clearly afraid of what would happen if he took her on in a fair fight. If they duelled, she would win. He twisted her wrist slightly, but Sive didn't let any sign of pain show on her face. He'd have to break her arm if he wanted that. Maybe not even then. They were close now, and his eyes stared into hers with an intensity that was almost frightening. But again, Sive kept her poker face.

”Don’t touch what isn’t yours, Little Lion.”

Sive almost growled with anger. She'd show him what a 'Little Lion' she really was. When he let go of her wrist and pushed her away, it was everything she could do not to reach straight for her wand. In fact, her hand twitched towards her pocket, but she stopped herself. As much as she wanted to hex him, she knew she shouldn't. She knew it was a bad idea. And she knew that if she pulled out her wand, Grayson would react to defend himself, and then neither of them would back down.

Sive was slightly surprised at her reaction to his grabbing her wrist. Yes, she had been angry- furious- but usually she was ferocious when angered (not unlike a Lion) and she had just about managed to keep her cool. Sive was also able, under the right circumstances, to perform wandless magic. She felt sure that if she really wanted Grayson to let go of her she could have made him. She realised that it was fascination with the way he had reacted and with the intensity of him that had stopped her.

Grayson started walking away, but Sive wasn't ready to just let him go. "Sure, go back to your hidey hole, Snake." she said petulantly. She felt wrong saying it, and knew she was provoking him, but she was angry "All this because I turned down your proposal? Someone's sensitive."

[archer]

“Go back to your hidey hole, Snake.”

[/i]

That hadn’t been what Archer had been expecting, not in the slightest. Gryffindors were supposed to be on their best behavior, or at least those were the rumors floating around school. The entire wizarding world had just gone through hell and it was up to the new generation to rebuild the bridges that had almost been burnt by the war. Gryffindors were supposed to be the forerunners to that rebuilding. Or so he thought. Here Sive was and she was trying to start a fight with him. Trying to provoke him into doing something that they both knew wasn’t supposed to happen. And he wanted to. He wanted to lash out at her and tell her just how he felt...just how he wanted to strike her dead right where she stood.

”I am not sensitive, lioness.” Archer said as he pushed himself off of the side of the wall and then began stalking toward her. If there was one thing that Archer Grayson most certainly was not, it was sensitive. He could be a good deal many other things, but the idea of him being in tune with his feeling was preposterous. Sive had to have known that and that was why she had targeted him in that way. It was clever. She was clever, he had to give her that. He threw his broom to the side and got into her face, making sure to keep his eyes carefully trained on hers in such a practiced manner that he was sure would at least give her an idea of just how serious he was.

”Do you know what the downfall of the lion is?” His voice was slow and steady, his low tones carefully spoken so that they would have the most effect possible. Arch felt like he had been rehearsing this speech for ages now and was getting his first chance at trying it out on a real audience, ”Pride. You lions are so proud.” He breathed as he came a little closer, his breath just barely caressing her face. He was close, probably a little too close, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t about personal space, this was about personal revenge. Revenge that he was going to get against Sive and everything that she stood for, ”Perhaps it’s time that someone strange the pride right out of you.” He pulled his wand out in a flash and then pressed it to her cheek, trying to dig it into her skin. He wanted so badly to kill her right then. To make her pay for destroying his friends and family, but he knew that it would be a mistake. He couldn’t do it yet.

“How many of them did you kill, Parry?” He asked, talking about the Death Eaters. He wanted her to know that he knew - he knew that she had been a student that was killing. Vengefully killing. Without remorse. He wanted her to know that she would pay.[/size][/blockquote]

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

Sive couldn't help letting a slight smile- or was it more of a smirk?- cross her face as Grayson turned around, and started walking back towards her. That was what she had wanted. Even though she knew it was wrong, she wanted it. She had wanted to provoke him.

Sive knew full well what she should do. She should calm herself down, get in control, and start being nicer... or at least more polite. She should diffuse the situation. But something inside her just didn't want to let that happen. Something inside wanted her to jump into this dangerous situation feet first, without looking before she fell. Her blood was pumping, and she felt the release of some tension she didn't know she'd had, ever since the battle.

”I am not sensitive, lioness.”

"Lioness," she repeated "that's an upgrade." A moment ago she had been 'little lion'. Anyone who had spent more than five minutes with Sive would have to agree that 'lioness' was a much more apt description.

Sive stood her ground as Grayson came up close to her- too close. She met his gaze unflinchingly. She was not going to let him intimidate her. Again she had the feeling of letting herself fall into something she couldn't control. She stared right back into those pale eyes, and saw the anger. She saw the hate. She saw a darkness she'd only known once herself. And she felt like, for the first time, she saw Archer Grayson.

She didn't flinch, not even when he whipped out his wand. Not even when he pressed it hard into her cheek. Sive wasn't naive; she didn't have some deep, heartfelt belief that he wouldn't hurt her. She was just taking the risk. She didn't go for her own wand. She knew that she could have done, knew that she was quick, that she would beat Grayson in a duel, although she wouldn't be able to prevent him getting a shot in first. He was ready, she wasn't. Yet.

Sive could feel his breath on her face, he was that close to her. She forgot that they were at school, in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Right now she and Archer Grayson were locked in their own private war.

“How many of them did you kill, Parry?”


For the first time, some emotion flitted across Sive's face. She felt suddenly cold. She didn't want to think about that. She had killed. She had killed Death-Eaters, monsters, murderers... people. She had killed them. She was a murderer too. She had done it to save her life, she had done it to defend her school, she had done it to save those around her and protect the kids- kids- but still, she had done it. "Don't," she found herself saying, though she didn't remember deciding to speak. Her voice was quiet, but unwavering. She was still strong. She didn't need to be loud; he was so close. "Don't. You don't know what you're talking about." She knew that a whole wealth of emotions would be showing in her eyes, but she didn't care to pull her face back into the emotionless mask.

[archer]

Archer studied her closely, the way that her mouth twitched while she spoke. She was certain a rare creature; one that was completely shrouded in mystery to him. He couldn’t imagine why she had chosen the side that she had, why she had chosen to be with them. They were worthless. She would have been much better off joining the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Perhaps with Sive on their side they wouldn’t have lost so much.

”Lioness, that’s an upgrade.”

[/i]

The feeling of being close to her was dangerous to Archer. It was like a moth to flame. He knew that she was a danger, he knew that he should have been keeping his distance and not drawing attention to the tension between them, but the more that he stood there in front of her, the more that he could feel his feelings of hatred and anger boiling over like a kettle of scalding water. Sive Parry was not the girl that he had once believed her to be. Not in the slightest. In many ways, he thought that she might have been just like him. A strange child looking for their place in the world and struggling to find it. But while Arch had picked the path of darkness, anger, and hate, Sive was still trying to convince herself that there was light and hope to be found in this world. He felt an involuntary laugh escape his lips as he drew his wand down her cheek and toward her chin.

The blank look that she was now offering him was infuriating. The way that she seemed unmoved by anything that he was doing to her. So instead of letting her off that easily, Archer decided that it was due time that he brought up the war and what she had done. It was time for Sive Parry to know that someone knew her little secret.

And that’s when he saw it. A single hint of emotion. He wasn’t sure what it was at first and it took him a few seconds to identify it, but he could definitely see that he had touched a delicate nerve, one that she had been trying so hard to protect this entire time. This was something that bothered Parry deep down. This was something that he could use against her. If he had learned one thing over the past couple of years, it was that if you wanted to manipulate someone, you had to get under their skin and that was exactly what he was about to do. He felt a sudden surge of anger push through his veins and he took the moment by force.

”Don’t. You don’t know what you’re talking about-”[/i]

”I know exactly what I’m talking about,” Archer growled low into the small space between them. He felt a smirk pulling at the sides of his lips, threatening to break into a complete smile if he wasn’t careful. He had found what he was tapping into. What would eventually bring Sive Parry to her knees, ”You killed them.” He grabbed her chin and then tilted her head toward his so that his eyes were locked on his. He held on tightly and without any signs of letting go, ”I want to know how many you killed.” He demanded again, his voice like venom between them.[/size][/blockquote]

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

Sive shivered very slightly as Grayson trailed his wand down her cheek to her chin, but did her best to suppress it. It was a very strange feeling, and she was fighting against her natural instinct to pull away, or to take out her own wand. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of trying to get away from him, and she didn't want to let it turn into a full on duel. That could be disastrous.

She was sure she had only given away a little flicker of emotion, but it had been enough. Like a shark scenting blood, Grayson had latched on to it. She could feel the anger radiating off him, and she knew that there was no chance he would let it go. He was going to try to keep going until he broke her. She didn't know why he hated her so much, or why he wanted to do this. Her anger was in reaction to what he was doing; his anger seemed to just be because of her. Because she was here, and who she was. Sive didn't understand it. She had never had someone truly hate her before.

Grayson grabbed her chin, and tilted her head up, his eyes boring into his. She couldn't escape his gaze, even if she had wanted to. But she didn't. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking away. She stared right back. Some part of her realised that it was too late to back out now. She was in too deep, she was committed. Whatever happened, there was no escaping it now. She'd have to see it through.

They were so close their breath mingled, and Sive could still feel his hot breath on her cheek. She almost forgot to be angry at him man-handling her; it seemed like they were so far past that, anger would be pointless. But she couldn't let the anger leave her completely, or she might weaken and crumble. Although somehow Sive didn't think that would be a problem; having too little anger never had been.

”I want to know how many you killed.”

Sive felt her knees weaken slightly as Grayson refused to let the subject drop, but she refused to fall. She stood straight and strong, as a matter of pride, and possibly a matter of self preservation. She didn't know what would happen if she showed any more weakness.

She wasn't going to answer that. She wasn't going to share that with him. She wasn't going to tell him that she didn't know how many she had killed, because really, how could you? She hadn't stopped to check if her curses had landed, or if she had dealt a fatal blow. There had been more Death Eaters attacking her, more people in danger. There had even been kids, those in danger while they were attempting to evacuate, and those stupid enough to stay behind. She suppressed another shudder as she thought of Colin Creevey, the Gryffindor in the year below her. He wasn't even supposed to be there. He had sneaked back into the castle to fight. He was sixteen when he'd been killed. Sive had seen it happen. She had failed; she couldn't defend everyone.

But remembering Colin made her more sure that fighting the Death Eaters had been the right thing to do. She had done the right thing. And as hard as the personal consequences were to deal with, she would do it again. Yes she had killed, and killing was wrong; but nothing was ever that black and white.

Sive reached up and grasped Graysons wrist, the one of the hand that was gripping her chin and holding her so close to his face. She knew she had no where near the strength to pull him off her, but she wanted him to know that he didn't have her, not yet.
"What do you want with me, Grayson?"
She could feel her fingers start to tingle slightly as some strength came back to her. She felt as though she could feel the magic coursing through her veins.

[archer]

The silence that grew between them was beginning to set off Archer. He was angry at her for not coming clean, he was even more angry that she thought that she had a right to remain silent around him. She was just as guilty as all the war-criminals who had been tried on the Death Eater’s side. Sive Parry was a murderer. A murderer who would pay one day with her life. Or the lives of everyone that she cared about.

When she reached up and grabbed his wrist, Arch let off a low growl of warning, letting her know that he was not alright with her touching him. She was the enemy and enemies did not touch him. He drew back immediately, his hand leaving her face in an instant of contact. He didn’t like the feeling of her hand on his wrist. It was dangerous territory. He let his hand drop to his side and stood there staring at her, his general distaste written all over his face and body language.

”What do you want with me, Grayson?”

[/i]

He paused for a moment, unsure of what he should say. What did he really want to tell her? What did he want her to know about him, about what he was trying to do here? Anything? Nothing? He sucked in a breath, his eyes avoiding hers as he looked around the pitch for a moment, ”I want you to know that I know.” He said finally, his words barely more than a whisper as he spoke them, ”I want you to know that when this is all said and done and the words are written in the history books and they say that you fought valiantly alongside the Order, that there will be someone who knows your secret.” His eyes finally met back up with hers, an involuntary shiver running down his spine. As much as he wanted to destroy her, he probably wanted to sleep with her first. That was the thing with Sive Parry, she might have been everything that he hated in the world, but she was still attractive.

He could see that she was beginning to regain her footing, which meant that he had lost the element of surprise. He was going to have to be more careful with what he said, lest he find himself the victim of one of her little fits. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes still never leaving hers, ”We all have secrets, Parry. It’s those who are in control of the secrets who hold the upper hand.” He said carefully and summoned his broom with a mental Accio charm. [/blockquote]

ooc: sorry! so incredibly short

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

When Archer pulled away from her, the empty space in front of Sive felt very strange. They had been so locked in their little battle that she hadn't really realised how close they had been. Somehow the absence of him drew attention to that. She felt the slight chill of the September air that his body heat had warded off. His breath on her face was replaced with a gentle breeze. She noticed for the first time that it was starting to grow dark.

Sive was alarmed as she realised how close she had let him get, and how at his mercy she had really been when he had his wand pointed straight at her face. It wasn't like her to let her guard down like that, or to let anyone into her personal space. She had been stupid, and reckless, and it was just luck that she had gotten out of it okay. Something about Grayson had just gotten to her, in the worst possible way. How could she have let him so close? And why was she not more relieved now that he had moved away.

Sive wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the cold, but then realised how weak and defensive that would look; looking defensive was basically admitting you felt threatened. She dropped her arms to her side, and just let herself feel the cold. After the heat of the moment previously, and the heat of her temper, she felt like cold was a good thing.

She frowned, her dark eyebrows pulling together slightly, as Grayson started talking about secrets. He knew hers, did he? He didn't understand. He didn't understand at all.

His talk about secrets didn't scare her. She knew what he was referring to, but as long as he didn't accuse her of killing people she could remain just fine. "How I fought is not a secret, Grayson." She said, "Everyone was there. Everyone knows. We were at war; we had to fight." There was no point dancing around the subject; they both knew they were talking about the battle last May. "Everyone who was there knows what I did. And I'd do it all again," she paused, taking a breath to steady herself "the personal consequences are mine to deal with."

She didn't know why she was talking like this. She should have told him where he could shove his secrets. But for some reason she felt like that was pointless, at this stage. She'd let him too close, and he'd seen too much.

Sive was startled as she saw Archer summon his broom with wandless magic. She hadn't known he could do that. She'd have to remember that in the future; it could be dangerous. But Sive could do wandless magic too.

"Why do you care, what I did?" she continued. She just couldn't stop, and walk back to the castle with her head held high, like she knew she should. Some masochistic part of her wanted this. This anger, his hate. She felt almost as though she deserved it.

"Just say it, Grayson," she said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. "Say it. What do you want with me?" She knew he didn't just want her to know he knew her secrets. Instinctively, she knew there was something more than that.
"Say it." she said, slightly more loudly. She hadn't realised she had taken steps towards him as she had been speaking.

Sive didn't realise that, in the same way some people had turned to alcohol, she was seeking out Archer Grayson, pushing him like this, as her own method of self-destruction.

[archer]

Archer felt himself stumbling for words already when she informed him that everyone already knew what she had done. That might have been true, but that didn’t mean that people agreed with it. Sometimes in war, the bad is overlooked to make way for a lighter, better time. People choose to forget that those around them murdered in cold blood. They choose to forget that people like Sive Parry were responsible for the deaths of so many. But Archer would not forget. He would never forget. For as long as he was living and able to maintain coherent thought, he would always know what she had done.

”Personal consequences.” Archer mused, his voice low and dark, just like his eyes were now. He scanned the horizion of the pitch just to make sure that no one else was around. He didn’t want this conversation to be overheard by anyone. Not yet. He needed to collect a few more things before he was ready for others to know about his plans, ”I knew you couldn’t handle blood on your hands.” He said, his eyes locking back on hers as if they had been seeking her out in a crowd of so many. A flash of emotion crossed his face, but only for a split second. He was thinking too much about those that he had lost - his father, his friends parents, his mentors - he couldn’t dwell or he would lose it. He needed to come up with a plan and he needed to do it soon.

It was then that it hit him. He knew what he needed to do in order to exact his revenge on Sive Parry. He needed to draw her in...close. Closer than he had drawn anyone in before. He needed to become the flame to her moth, the person that she couldn’t resist being around no matter what the situation. And then he needed to yank the rug out from underneath her and destroy everything that she thought she stood for. He would gain her trust and then he would personally ruin her. He wasn’t sure how extreme he would go yet, but he knew that this was something that had to be done. She would be made into an example in his new regime.

”I care because-” Archer tossed his broom from one hand to the other, knowing full well that it had provoked her earlier. Then he stopped, gripping the broom tightly in his right hand. He stared at her, his dark eye clouded with something that he couldn’t quite describe to himself, ”Because I want you to know that one day you will pay.” He said loudly into the air between them. It was a bold statement, but one that he fully intended to keep up.

“Say it.”

Having already decided that he was going to draw her in close, it was no surprise to himself what Archer did next. He threw his broom to the side, closing the gap between them with a few short steps. His hands cupped her chin, drawing her face up to his so that he could stare down into her eyes, ”I can’t tell you-” He said, his voice no more than a light whisper into the darkness, ”I can show you.” He leaned toward her, his rough lips hitting hers with a mixture of disaster and fire. He let his right hand drop to her waist, brutally pulling her toward him as if he couldn’t get enough. All the while, he was reminding himself that this was a show...it was a game...and one day, he would be able to use what he was doing to destroy Parry himself.

[SIVE BRANNAGH PARRY]

"...I want you to know that one day you will pay.”

Those words hung in the air between them, and Sive was shocked. She had seen that he hated her, but hearing that was different. She didn't know if it was a threat or just a warning. Did he believe that she would pay for the wrong she had done, or was he planning to make sure she did?

Sive had been trying to provoke a reaction from Grayson, but what she got was not at all what she had expected.

As he strode towards her she instinctively started backing away, sure that this was the attack that they had been leading up to. They were both so close to boiling point. But he was too quick, and he had his hands on her face before she could get away, or think about going for her wand. She froze as she didn't feel fingers digging into her skin; his gentleness was far more terrifying. She was unprepared for it, and had no idea how to react. She was staring straight into his eyes, and for a moment was speechless.

”I can show you.”

His lips met hers. They were rough, and unyielding, an explosion of fire and ice. Sive felt heat, and anger, and hate, and desire, all crashing down on her at once. It wasn't a moment for rational thought. All thought was driven out by a confused mess of feeling, and when the initial explosion started to settle, Sive found herself kissing him back. He was crushing her against him, and she wound her arms around his neck, clinging to him like an alcoholic clings to a bottle, or a drug addict clings to his fix.

She didn't think about why Archer Grayson, who hated her and wanted he to pay for what she had done and for who she was, was kissing her. She didn't think about why he would be touching a 'mudblood'. She didn't think about how this was possibly the most dangerous and self-destructive thing she had ever done. Until she did. Until a moment of thought invaded the heat that was fogging her brain, and she suddenly felt cold.

"No," she said, like someone suddenly waking up, her voice not as strong as she'd wanted it to be, as she stopped kissing him. She turned her head away, but couldn't pull away from him; without her wand Archer Grayson was infinitely stronger than her, and his arms encircled her like a cage.

[archer]

He hadn’t expected her to kiss back, perhaps that was what surprised him the most. But when she did, he felt another surge of confidence rush through his veins. She wanted him. It was already in the works then. By the end of it all, he was going to have little Sive Parry wound around his finger like clockwork and that was all that he was after. He felt something different in the kiss, however. A sort of electric charge that seemed to be coming from both of them. He wasn’t sure who was the positive and who was the negative end of things, but he knew that he could feel it like a spark between them. There was something going on here, something that he wanted to think he had under control, but at this point, he wasn’t really sure.

”No.”

[/i]

Archer hadn’t even realized that she had pulled away until it was already too late. But she sounded weak...as if she had just figured out what was going on. He couldn’t understand her. One moment, she was the power-player between the pair and the next moment, she was back to being a timid and confused lion cub. Sive Parry was defiantly the bane of his existence.

She turned her head away and Archer immediately felt a little angry. Perhaps more than a little angry. Grayson didn’t do rejection. He never had and he never would. He was always the one that was in control when it came to being with other people. He managed to hold his tongue for the moment, though. His arms were still locked around her body, meaning that she wasn’t going anywhere. If she wanted out of this, then she was going to have to really fight for it. He felt a small smirk tugging at the skirts of his lips, feeling slightly bemused by the entire situation. As much as this was all a game for revenge, he had to admit that he was having an....interesting time playing with Sive.

”Come now, Parry-” Archer said, using one of his hands to turn her face back to his. His pale eyes searched hers, looking for some sign that he was getting to her, some sign that this was all working and in the end it would be worth it, ”You can’t tell me this isn’t what you want.” He breathed. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to darken slightly, as if he had gone into his own little world. This was a dangerous game that he was playing, one that he was likely to get burned in, and yet...he couldn’t stop. He was unable to stop. [/blockquote]