Chapter Text
Stupid.
Stupidstupidstupidstupiduselessuselessuseless—
"Harry?" he heard someone say, distantly.
Useless.
"Harry!" Hermione stepped into view, snapping him back to consciousness.
"Yeah?" he mumbled, wanting to go away again, but the thoughts did give him a headache.
In all honesty though, who cared if they gave him a headache? He deserved them.
You deserve it.
Hermione shared a concerned glance with Ron before they both turned their eyes on Harry again.
Burden.
Look how unhappy they are looking at you.
They deserve better.
Unlike you.
Harry dug his nails into his palm, not enough to draw blood but enough for the pain to ground him.
"We were just wondering if you wanted to hang out? ...Talk to us, maybe?"
This is how it had been every day after his attempt.
Stupid.
Should've just kept cutting. Out of sight.
But he'd wanted relief. He'd wanted to finally be able to leave. To meet his mom, his dad. Cedric. Sirius.
Selfish.
So, so selfish.
He forced a smile. "I'm tired, so I think I'll go take a nap. But I'll meet you guys in the Great Hall."
Liar.
He wouldn't do that, and they knew it. He hadn't come to the Great Hall in days.
He hadn’t had much of an appetite in a while.
Ron and Hermione exchanged another one of their pity-concern looks. Harry hated those looks so much.
He didn’t want pity.
Hermione pursed her lips, worried, but let it go.
Thank Merlin for small mercies.
He made his way up to his dorm, and collapsed onto his bed, face-down. He was tired, it was true, but he wouldn't get any sleep. He hadn't been getting any since forever. It was more bone-deep exhaustion than anything.
Harry turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling and sighed.
Jump. Cut. Jump. Cut. Jumpcutjumpcutjumpcut—
"Shut up," he mumbled, bitterly.
They didn't. They never did.
Worthless.
Your fault.
He pressed his palms over his eyes so hard they hurt.
You deserve to be punished.
His wrists itched.