Chapter 35

Harold Lowe's POV

My hands were still trembling from the overwhelming rage I felt.

"You-you need a band aid for that cut of yours."

I emptied drawer upon drawer in my haste, sending a pile of rubbish onto the floor of my room. My head was still throbbing with the sour images of Hockley's smug face.

"And some ice too. Yes, ice would be nice. Maybe I can run to the infirmary. Is it even open this time? How late is it anyway? Perhaps I shall-"

"Harry..."

"No, I'm not leaving. I'll give a call to Moody. He must be on his way back by now."

"HARRY. Calm down."

I turned to see her sitting upon my bed. Her eyes - those big blue sapphires - stared at me in sympathy. She looked so weak. So vulnerable. My God...why? Why did that beast have to run into her? Why was life so cruel to the best of people?

I broke into a ragged sob, sinking down to my knees.

"Jamie...I'm sorry...I...I thought I could protect you...If only I had...Oh...God help me."

A pair of soft hands flew down to my shaking ones. She pressed her forehead against mine, whispering, "Harry, please...Shhh. As conceited as you may be, you know you aren't superman. At the end of the day, a person can only do so much. Harry. You've protected me in every way humanely possible. Please don't take this out on yourself. Goodness, I can't stand to see you weep like this."

Her fingers brushed at a few stray tears by my cheek.

Gosh, she's the one that gets attacked and I'm the one who ends up moping. Some officer I am.

"Jamie. This-is ridiculous. I should be comforting you. Aren't you...shaken up in the least bit by all this?"

"I was scared, yes. But...it wasn't as if it hadn't happened to me before..."

My eyes snapped up in disbelief to her face.

"You mean, Mr. Dubois...he..."

She closed her eyes, trying to suppress her lips from trembling.

"Many times. For my sixteenth birthday...I-I remember he brought some of his friends over. They were all drunk of course...and he brought them downstairs to me...and...they all kindly took their turns," she spat coldly.

Her fingers clutched my arms in desperation.

"The thing that kills me most is that I remember everything. Every single damn moment. Every night, it just happens over and over again. I'm afraid of my own dreams."

This girl has suffered so much.

Our lips were nearly brushing together as she spoke. With a sigh, she opened her eyes.

"Harry, I-I want to forget."

Suddenly, my head bent down to hers and we were sailing through another ocean - another world. The only thing that mattered to me was her. This embrace was different from all the others. There was a certain urgency to it...as if this would be the last time. As if we were saying our farewells. God forbid. Gingerly, my lips skimmed across the bruises upon her cheek. Just as my hands roamed down to her waist, her fingers inched up to entwine in my hair. At that moment, I bequeathed my very soul unto her.

"Jamie, I love you. I love you so much," I cried.

She broke into a smile and laughed, pulling me closer to her. "I was wondering just how much longer I'd have to wait to hear you say that."

"Well, goodness, I've professed it at least a thousand times before. You just never pay attention."

With a dazed grin, she collapsed into my arms, nestling her head against my chest.

Just when you feel as if all hope is forsaken, a miracle happens.

A God-sent deliverance.