Disclaimer: I own the concept for this idea and the plot. J.K. Rowling owns everything else.

Chapter One: Beginning

I do not honestly know how or why it all began. I hated him with a fiery passion, and I know for a fact that he felt the exact same about me. Perhaps that was the reason. That fiery passion. But whenever I sit too long, trying to comprehend my own actions, all I accomplish is giving myself a massive headache. So I have learned not to think about it too much or too often. The day it all started was a day just like any other. It was no different from the one before it. I woke up somewhat reluctantly, quickly got ready, fought with him, grabbed a piece of toast, stopped by the library, went to my morning classes, fought with him, scarfed a quick lunch, spoke to some of my professors, attended my afternoon classes, fought with him, headed off to the library, completed some homework, indulged in a large dinner, hung out with my friends, fought with him, and finished my homework. When the incident happened I was... fighting with him.

It seems to me all I did was fight with him. That is all my school days seemed to consist of. Classes? Meals? Did I have those? Perhaps I did. It is hard to tell when most of my waking hours consisted of screaming and flying objects. I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone. It would not have fazed me in the least if he were to die a most painful death. It was a constant battle between us and our fights were no holds barred. We definitely did not hold anything back. They consisted of screaming at each other at the top of our lungs, yelling the most vile insults at one another, stringing together any and all cuss words under the sun to make the most graphic insults, throwing objects at one another, biting, pushing, kicking, pinching, slapping, smacking, and shoving. We never ceased to be at each other's throats.

That fateful night we were once again doing what we did best. I cannot seem to remember what we had been fighting about that time, but it seems to me that it is irrelevant. Somehow during our screaming match we had moved so close that our lips were a mere three centimeters apart. However, we were so caught up in the heat of our argument that neither one of us noticed our close proximity. His eyes were filled with the utmost hatred and loathing, sparks of anger flashing through his dark, swirling orbs. I noticed how his lips were curled into a disgusted sneer.

And then for some strange reason those undeniably soft lips were pressing against my own.

Who initiated the kiss was never decided. The only thing that matters was that our lips were glued to one another. We kissed each other hungrily, sucking and biting each other's plump lips, tongues exploring and massaging. Our hands seemed to grow a life of their own as they roamed without direction. Suddenly he slammed me against the wall, causing a moan of pain to elicit from my ravaged lips. He bit me as he trailed kisses down my velvety neck, sucking the blood up to be seen through the top layer of my skin as he put his brand on me. Somehow we ended up in his pitch black room. I was shoved onto the bed as he climbed on top of me, pulling his clothes off as he went.

I hesitated slightly. What was I doing? But then the haze of lust surrounded me once more and I began removing my clothing, as well. He lowered his demanding lips onto mine once more, dueling my tongue for control. His hands rubbed up and down my body, making me moan at his touch. Again I took a page from his book and allowed my hands to explore every inch of him within their reach. He growled softly as his fingers moved to my clit, rubbing hard and fast. I gasped in shock and pleasure, my senses already going into overload.

As he slipped a finger into me, his lips twisted into a strange combination of a sneer and a smirk, almost as if he did not know which facial expression he wished to make. His eyes shone with resentment, disgust, lust, hatred, and... triumph. Triumph? Why triumph? I never did find out. Perhaps it had something to do with the film of tissue blocking his fingers' passage. I winced in pain as he inserted a second finger. As he swirled them around, moving them in and out of me, massaging and rubbing, I felt the oddest mixture of pleasure and pain. I wanted to make him stop so bad, yet I had never felt such a wonderful sensation in my life. I could not bear to even think of halting the motion of his warm fingers. Both my pleasure and my pain increased as he inserted a third finger into my opening. The hole in my hymen widened as each finger entered, stretching the opening. By this point I was screaming again, this time in the most intense pleasure I had ever felt. I writhed around on the bed, moaning his name, screaming profanities for an entirely different reason than I had been earlier that evening. One of my hands held on tight to the sheet as the other entwined itself into his silky locks. My hips began to buck against his hand, wanting his fingers to go deeper, faster.

Then suddenly it all stopped. I opened my eyes in confusion and was met by molten steel. He positioned his hard member at my opening and, without warning, shoved himself inside of me. I closed my eyes tight as a cry of pain burst through my mouth. I scrambled for something to clutch onto and ended up digging my nails into the tender flesh of his arms. He began to move in and out of me, fast and hard. He slammed himself into me over and over. Harder and faster. I moaned his name. I cried out as I brought my hips to meet his thrusts. Oh God! Oh Merlin! Who knew anything could feel like this? Such raw, unadulterated lust mingling freely with the uninhibited hatred and loathing we felt for each other.

When it was finished he collapsed beside me on the bed. I had a terrible time trying to catch my breath and, surprisingly, so did he. For twenty minutes the room was deadly silent except for our ragged breaths. Then without a word I climbed out of the bed and walked out of the room, completely naked, and left my clothing on the floor. I walked into the bathroom and took the longest shower of my life. Afterwards, I went to my room, threw on some sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, and climbed into bed.

The only thought running through my head was... why?

A/N:

Please review and tell me what you think so far. Thank you!