Chapter 1

Where it All Began

I sit on the couch, in our living room, with my husband's head in my lap as we watch the muggle nightly news. It's become a habit of ours over the years, even though suspicious activity from anyone in our world was the last thing we expect. And the last thing we want; we've made ourselves a nice, quiet, though undeniably happy life with nice, quiet, unsuspecting neighbors, and I, for one, have had enough adventure and terror to last a lifetime… probably two. That's not to say that our life is dull, each day brings its own excitement… but I'm getting a little ahead of myself.

I run my fingers through my husband's thick, black hair and marvel at the time that has passed. Five years next month since we said our vows. Five years and two months since Voldemort fell. And nearly four since I gave birth to our beautiful, black-haired son, Taiven. With my spare hand, I caress my just-beginning-to-bulge stomach where our second baby is growing. I haven't picked a name yet, but with nearly five months to go, I have plenty of time.

As if sensing my train of thoughts, my husband looks up, catches my hand and places a kiss on my palm. "Love you," he murmurs before turning his attention back to the news.

I smile, nearly five years and he's just as romantic as the day we said, "I do."

I, too, slowly turn my attention back to the news, but the activities of the muggle Prime Minister and his family just don't hold my interest. Within moments my mind begins to wander to where it all began…

This is the story of how I seduced my future husband, fell in love, nearly got killed, and grew up along the way…

I suppose truthfully it all started on my first day at Hogwarts, or when I met George Weasley at Platform 9 ¾, or even when I found out that my godfather, Remy, Remus Lupin to everyone else, was a wizard and I was a witch, but for sake of time and explicit relativity to the story it all began at Hogwarts, close to the beginning of my seventh year in the one class that I loathed the most.

I was eighteen, the oldest one in the school, but I didn't look it and I sure as hell didn't feel it. All the guys that I had slept with (a grand total of two), as well as all the guys I had dated (more than I can or for that matter care to remember) had graduated, leaving me all alone and single for the first time since I was thirteen… it was a weird feeling. Just how does one go about being single? Especially when all the guys, professors excluded of course are at least two years my junior… it definitely put a damper on the dating scene.

I sat in my usual spot, with my usual partner, and as usual not paying much attention the lecture or the project we were supposed to be working on… Marianne could deal, she was a smart girl. I was thinking about… well, I wasn't really. Truth be told there wasn't a whole heck of a lot going on in my head at the time, just whatever chaos I was planning, with my usual co-conspirator, Klaus Webber… and my budding and incredibly disturbing, I might add, fascination with… well, one of the people that I had, for the past six years, loathed with the same intensity of that great, glowing orb in the sky… and no, I am not talking about the moon…. dumbass.

I watched him stalk around the classroom, scowling at everything and everyone. Every few seconds, he would bark out instructions that were nearly overshadowed by the insults that accompanied them.

It made me wonder what was really going on in the man's mind. As I speculated, a plan began to formulate in my twisted mind.

By the time he made it to mine and my partner's table, I was concluding the final touches to my plot.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he murmured, probably noticing that the entire sheet was written in Marianne's handwriting.

"Why?" Marianne was naïve enough to gasp; I had no doubt that every answer was correct.

"The reason I give assignments that require partners, besides having to grade less papers, is so both can participate. Not so one can do all the work and the other can daydream. Even if your partner is as abysmal as Miss Stanford," he sneered. Ah, there it is, the tale-tell insult.

I rolled my eyes and then smiled sweetly up at his outraged face.

"Detention," he enunciated.

I just smiled; he couldn't have given me a better opportunity to put my plan into action.

I nearly chuckled as he walked away – I had brought men to their knees in a matter of days or weeks, depending on how hard the guy is to crack. I'd broken more hearts than he'd probably had lovers. I ripped out guys' hearts and had them for breakfast. And while I'd only had sex with two men, I considered myself experienced… plus, I was just naturally good at it.

All in all, it shouldn't take too long… Severus Snape, I mentally addressed him, I give you two weeks.