Some say the world will end in fire,
She embodies warmth. Everything about her is radiant - her hair, eyes, smile. She looks at him with those whiskey colored eyes and he burns from the inside.
Some say in ice.
He was raised to be cold, cruel, to relish in the pain of others. An only child, he learned to be spoiled and to expect the world to owe him all its' wonders.
From what I've tasted of desire
They clash with teeth and tongue. Hate twists and spirals and maliciously forms into lust. Each hates the other; each loves the other, in their own way. Barely sixteen - holding the weight of the world on their shoulders. They find solace in their mutual despair.
I hold with those who favor fire.
She's sister to the boy-who-lived. The savior of the wizarding world. A target is automatically set on her back, and most are eager to kill the brightest witch of the age. If he could bet on the outcome of the war, he would put all his galleons on her. She's bright and brilliant; deadly too, he learns, with a wicked sense of justice and revenge.
But if it had to perish twice,
His father led an attack that nearly stole her life. Dolohov left her scarred. His mother is threatened because of his father's failure. It occurs to him that those he calls family would've murdered six teenagers without thought. He doesn't feel as high or untouchable as before - it leaves a foul taste in his mouth.
I think I know enough of hate
They throw slurs at each other for years; mudblood and ferret, bitch and arse - the swotty shrew and the pompous twit. Each taking pride in the others pain. Soon, they realize they can't hide their truths. They hate because they love - they're protecting the other.
To say that for destruction ice
His forearm is marred when they are fifteen. Born to a family he had no control over. A life chosen he never wished for. People sneer in the streets and shout threats. Quite suddenly, he realizes they are one and the same. Never before has he loathed himself so greatly. She deserves so much more than he can give; so much better than he can be. He hopes she'll never leave, regardless.
Is also great
They both lose friends; they both share scars in the same places. Inside, they are twisted and angry and damaged. They mourn their losses. Slowly, they find their way back from depression and crash into each other. Together, they rebuild their lives and learn how to properly love.
And would suffice.
Naturally, the world as they know it implodes when the Prophet snags the unsolicited photograph where Hermione's arms are wound tightly around Draco's neck, their lips glued in a frenzy.
But fire and ice (despite their differences) go hand-in-hand.