AN: Not my characters, but you all know that by now. I will put them back when I'm done.
I hate that I can't walk away from you. Every time I try, something pulls me back and I can't explain what it is. I hate that I feel this way about you and I can't overcome it. I think of you all of the time and I hate myself for it. I hate myself for loving you.
...
It all started with a fight. Everything between us does, doesn't it? We were enemies before we'd even met, simply because of who we were. There was never an opportunity for things to be different between you and me. It was always going to be curses, hexes, physical violence and verbal abuse between the ferret and the weasel. That was a story my brothers took great delight in telling over and over and over again.
This particular fight though, was the one where I slapped you in the face for calling me a traitor to my blood and a whore. I could understand the blood traitor comment, but I wasn't a whore. I may not have been the most innocent seventeen year old you'd ever met, but that just went one step too far. And you've seen my temper before, you knew I wasn't going to let that one go. Almost before I knew what I was doing, my hand reached out of its own accord and hit you across the cheekbone. I can still see, when I close my eyes and think about it, your pale skin going bright red as my hand moved away again. Your fingers closed around my wrist and my back hit the wall hard enough to leave bruises for a week afterwards.
They say there's a fine line between love and hate. We were walking that line on that fateful day where we got ourselves into the situation we now find ourselves in. I was standing there against the wall, my back throbbing with pain, and you still hadn't let go of my wrist. I hadn't shaken your hand off or kicked you in the balls like I would normally have done. To this day I don't know why I didn't. But that's what happened, and we were standing there for what felt like hours, but couldn't really have been long at all. We were staring at each other, and I don't know what changed. That day, we just walked away from each other without another word. It was a week before I encountered you again.
A week later, and those same fingers closed around my wrist again, pulling me into an alcove behind the massive tapestry on the fourth floor. There was a wild look in your eyes that day, a dangerous devil may care glint in those grey eyes of yours. I knew then, that this could only lead to trouble. I was half expecting the kiss that came next, but reacting the way that I did, that was a total shock. Something in me melted with that kiss, any resistance that was there to begin with just faded away, and we were clawing at clothes and trying to keep quiet. I shouldn't have let things go that far, I really shouldn't, but sometimes you do just have to live in the moment and fuck the world around you - it doesn't matter. Hmm, bad choice of words there, since it was you I fucked, hard and heavy against the wall, skirt hitched high around my waist and your trousers round your ankles. I still don't know whether we got round to casting that silencing spell, though nobody ever mentioned anything, so maybe we did.
That was the first of many hiding places in the castle that were put to a use other than that which was intended. The Room of Requirement was always a favourite, as were bathroom stalls, inside the secret passages which I showed you (though never gave you the passwords), and even, once, the Potions lab. I know we were seen on that particular occasion, but thankfully Snape showed some discretion and turned around, cape billowing behind him as he retreated back through the door. It strikes me as odd now, though not at the time, that not once did we ever do it in a bed.
...
I don't need to tell you all this, you know what happened as well as I do. What started as nothing but hatred and lust has turned into something more, at least for me. I'm embarrassed and ashamed to admit that I've fallen in love with you. I know you don't love me, and that's fine. Really, it's fine. We could never be together out in the big wide world anyway. I should walk away now, but it's already too late. You won't leave me because, deep down, you care too much, even though you'll never admit that. You like having me around, saves the bother of finding some other girl to screw. Or maybe it's the fact that I'm forbidden to you that really turns you on. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I need to leave, but I can't. I need to find the courage to walk away from you, and I hate that I can't do it. I love you, and I hate myself for loving you.