Chapter 12
I could stab their eyes out, so badly did I hate how they watched me.
Weasley had watched me as he forced me to pack up what was left in my room. There hadn’t been much left. I didn’t ask who’d crawled through it, collecting evidence like they were at a crime scene. My eyes caught on everything missing. It wasn’t hard to spot, there’d been so little and it never changed. It also wasn’t hard to see the connection. The sheets I’d bled on. The rags I’d used to mop up. The sharp, jagged things I’d hidden in crooks and crannies. I could feel Weasley’s eyes on me as I refused to dig for them. Maybe he’d searched it himself, and he wouldn’t have missed a thing.
They’d gone through my clothes, damn them. The fabric was left crumpled, the drawers not quite able to close. They’d gone through my file. Just the one. They’d bent the pages and parts were scattered across the floor. Weasley was watching so I didn’t right any of it. I packed only the newest clothes, provided to me at the start of each training quarter, as if it wasn’t the well worn sweaters that brought comfort. It wouldn’t be a violation that they’d been here if nothing in here mattered. If it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t break my heart to leave it behind.
I always figured the DMLE would prefer I get around to killing myself, and despite recent evidence it seemed Weasley was in on it. Why else would he assign me a shared room with Ajax.
Sure, it was four times the size of where I’d come from. It had an actual bed, an actual desk, and an actual wardrobe. Two of each, in fact, because it was only the best for me and my new roommate. It wasn’t a window, but there was a square on the wall that projected light. If I didn’t stare at it head on it resembled the soft glow of the sun.
Merlin, how I hated them. I couldn’t count the days since I’d last seen sunlight, and they mocked me with its facsimile. A poor substitute that threatened to shatter me in front of these people I loathed.
Thank fuck Ajax distracted me by blathering something utterly stupid. He could always be counted on for that. He was always smiling genially and I didn’t trust it. I sneered at him then tossed my bag on the edge of my bed and laid down to face the wall.
I missed my curtains. I missed privacy. I missed silence.
I thought they both would have to leave eventually but I was wrong. They probably had a schedule somewhere to track shifts for monitoring me. The whole team was in on it. Someone would come so Ajax could leave, and then it would be Trix or Stephanie sitting at his desk or lounging on his bed, pretending to ignore me twice as hard as I pretended to ignore them. No one pressured me to do shit, but they did bring back food from the canteen and left it at my desk. It had the unanticipated effect of me realizing the food would pile up and they’d know I wasn’t eating. I hadn’t realized how much I took no one paying attention to me for granted, before.
Eventually Weasley had to come. He dragged me out of the room and forced me to the showers. I didn’t have a plan at this point. I wasn’t intentionally refusing. I just wasn’t intentionally being helpful. Weasley didn't care. He turned the water on and shoved me under it, clothes and all.
My clothes were still soggy when he sat me down in the canteen. I leaned my head on the sticky table and ignored the tray of food Weasley set next to it. I didn’t have to look up to know he was watching me.
He knew I’d done it on purpose. They all knew.
Shame was such an odd feeling. It overpowered the apathy. I considered pretending to be alright like I’d done for Potter. It wouldn’t work. Weasley was smarter than Potter. I never should have left records. There were half a dozen ways to off myself without a fuss in records, and Potter wouldn’t have cared less had he found me.
Guilt. I hated it. Wanted to squash it down. Couldn’t. Of course Potter would have cared. I wouldn’t have left if he hadn’t cared about me, just enough to make me want him to care more. I don’t think I’d be able to do it if I knew he’d be the one to find me after. He wasn’t strong enough, the way Weasley was. He didn’t have it in him.
I ate a damn apple and Weasley let me go back to my room. I slept like the dead that night. Well. Not as much like the dead as I wished.