Here in his arms

I didn't want to see, or hear, or feel, all I wanted was to disappear into nothingness, it hurt to live.

I'd trusted him. I'd loved him and shared things with him, things I'd never told another living soul.

And now look where it had gotten me; dripping wet, blood stained and injured, a crying heap on the floor of the girls bathroom.

I slowly pulled myself up and looked in the cracked mirror. "You stupid girl", I told myself. "You're a wreck".

I'd wanted him for so long that I was blind to whom he really was. But finally his true personality shone through. He'd betrayed me, cheated and lied. When I'd told him he couldn't treat me this horribly, he had hit me.

I could taste blood in my mouth and feel a throbbing pain in my temple. He must have hit me hard, because everything was blurred and I couldn't think straight.

But one thing was clear to me "I should run, hide and quickly before he finds me again". I stumbled onto my feet and staggered to the door.

As soon as I was out I started running. Where? I didn't care. I just cared about putting as much space as possible between me and Harry.

The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, hero of the wizarding world… It was he who had and still was causing me so much pain and heartache that I'd almost lost the will to live. And I couldn't bear it anymore. Maybe that's why I was running, maybe I thought that if I ran fast enough I'd leave this world of pain, and enter a better place, somewhere he and no one else could ever hurt me again, physically or mentally.

But like always there was an obstacle in my path to freedom. As I ran through corridor after corridor, I hit something hard and solid. If my senses hadn't been fried, I'd have recognised how beautiful he smelt, like warm spices. I knew that smell. It was the smell of a certain blonde haired, grey eyed Slytherin.

I was sick of people and things standing in my way of reaching this place I longed to be. I was so close now, I could feel it. Nothing could stop me now, but then this being spoke. "Jesus Christ, what happened to you", his voice was slow and calm yet I sensed true concern and his arms were strong as they held me, stopping me from falling to the cold, hard floor. I felt safe and slightly more peaceful in his anchor-like embrace.

Then I remembered my goal and slipped from under his grasp, my chest heaving and my eyes full of unshed tears threatening to over flow. I turned from him and started to run, only managing two or three steps before my legs gave way. I waited readied and braced to hit the stone floor, but it never came. Once again he had caught me and once again his strong arms kept me from falling.

I tried to punch at his chest in an attempt to break free, but he simply held me tighter. I gave up, having secretly hoped my feeble attempt would fail. I buried my head in his chest and cried harder. He made no attempt to pull away and leave me sobbing. Instead he lowered his head and whispered words of comfort in my ear and it instantly worked. By that time my legs were much too weak to hold me, but it didn't matter; he was bearing all my weight.

I felt at peace, all was forgotten. Then I realised I'd finally found my better place, here in his arms.