I see you watching me with those stormy grey eyes, looking like you want me to disappear,

I feel you brushing past me in the corridor, your body tense with disgust and loathing,

I hear you taunting me with your friends, a smile of malice contorting your face.

But I see those same eyes, feel that same body, and hear that same voice filled with lust.

Molten eyes which pierce into my soul and tear it apart.

A body which presses and grinds urgently against mine.

Husky and low, your voice close to my ear, urging me higher into pleasure.

Every night it's the same. I crawl from your arms and tiptoe to the door. But I stop and turn to look at you asleep, then clamber willingly back to where I belong. Beside you.

I can't sleep without you breathing softly beside me. You're like a drug. There are good trips and there are bad trips, both of them addictive, they always leave me wanting more.

Sometimes you shove me against the wall so hard that as you pound ferociously into me, I know there will be bruises in the morning. But I can't help watching you sleep.

It is the only time I have the power, and so often I've wanted to slip the pillow gently over your face, so soft with sleep, and stop your chest from rising and falling. For you never to open your eyes again and enchant me.

You're as if carved from marble, rare and precious, yet cold to touch. Seemingly perfect, but when I get closer I see those imperfections which haunt you.

I know you hate me. Always have. Every time I slip into your familiar bed I promise myself that it's the very last time. But this dangerous game will never end.

It's not a game though is it? Now lust's a game, seductive and enticing, passionate. What we have is no game.

My mother always told me never to play with fire; but she never warned me about ice. Because that's what you are. Sometimes you let yourself go, melt into me, sooth those bruises you've made.

Come morning it's harsh words and cold dismissals. As I creep back to my dormitory, the word 'Mudblood' rushes through me in a painful surge and I feel the memory of your frosty breath upon my neck.

You're like a splinter of ice, buried deep into my heart, yet despite that my body longs for you. Just like your child which is growing inside me. And it is all that I have of you, for your heart, soul, body and mind are your own.