Dark fragments of a thousand dreams filled her head, spinning into focus for only the briefest of glimpses before spinning away again. She was a child at the North Wales beach with her mother, the taste of salt on the wind. Then she was cheating in lessons, then a gawky teenager, in love for the first time at the Celestial Ball. She was training for her OWLS , ready to apply her skills to become the greatest witch who ever lived. Then... the death of their friend, at the hands of someone they thought was A mentor. Darker. The day mother returned. Darker still. The lovers she had betrayed, and who had betrayed her. Loneliness.

Room fourteen was very still, the following days. Hauntly so - the type found as dust settled over a natural disaster, though this scene were not as marked as that. Everything was orderly - though a mess, it was the casual sort. Clothes lay strewn around and a pile of wine bottles gathered in the corner, all now completely drained. The only battle that had been raged here was the mental kind, and likewise, the fallout that remained was one of unease and paranoia. Even after she woke up, a long time passed before she decided to acknowledge she had.

Her eyes felt heavy, as though she hadn't slept at all. She hadn't decided to fall asleep, the wine must have taken her again. No matter how much she slept these days she could never truly rest. Her body felt like lead and her thoughts just as heavy. Her veins were clogged and expanding, like her every cell was becoming thick and heavy with tar, clouding her judgement of reality and dream.

The morning after was always unavoidable, but waking up to this room again felt even more damning.

After only a few seconds of consciousness, however, her mind was kick-starting with worrisome thoughts and considerations - the ones she'd tried so hard to escape the night before. In her restless sleep, she saw that picture. She'd drank to remove it but had ended up cementing it. She couldn't close her eyes now without seeing him, sprawled out on the floor with everything hanging out. After him he'd overstayed his welcome, that's when the others had started. Bill had gotten off easily - he would live to breathe another day, while there were some chests that remained still, five foot under, because of her. Some of them by her negligence and others that… weren't.

She couldn't let herself dwell on it. She was a diamond in the rough, she was unstoppable so long as she kept confidence in herself. She always tried to make what she believed was the right choices. Yes, sometimes she had failed. But she knew what she wanted and nothing would stop her trying to achieve it. She believed in herself and that made her strong.

Where others had deviated from their plans, she'd torn up opportunities and spat in the face of different paths, remaining tunnel visioned to her destiny. And yes, that had made her better than them. She wanted it more and she worked harder than the rest of them to achieve it. That counted for something. And when it came to extreme circumstances, where others had chicken out and failed, she had stayed on course. You couldn't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. People should have known better than to get in her way. They should have been smarter, like her. They were faced with their own decisions and chose wrong - she refused to take the blame for their poor choices. They should have known she would lead them on the path to greatness and joined her, sought her favour, not fought against her. How well had it worked out for them? She entered their life as an opportunity for them to better themselves and they chose to fight against it. She would have brought them with her but… but they chose the wrong side…That was their fault, not hers. She wasn't to blame.

Again, the graphic imagery of Bill flashed behind her eyes.

She swallowed deeply and after a second, turned over.

Everything she stood by was true and she'd stuck by that. But because they didn't like that truth, they were determined not to believe it, because then they HAVE to accept who's really in the wrong here. So they kept misunderstanding the situation, intentionally. Anything to keep themselves innocent and her as the toxic one. She was the only one that was speaking sense, but what does truth matter against the popular vote? Why hold yourself accountable when all the evil in the world could be pinned on one person instead?

Maybe things could have happened differently. Maybe her path could have been changed, if someone had just gone about it the right way. She was open minded, she had her future - but if someone came to her with a better alternative, she'd take that. She was interested in whatever side got her the best deal. If there was another way… she'd have listened. But nobody wanted to do that. They were all willing to demonise her, but she didn't remember any of them trying to change her mind. She didn't remember any of this support or friendship back when she needed it.

It was like everybody had just been waiting for the opportunity… It was a presence throughout her whole life, everyone knew her and who she was. They'd made their minds up about her before even meeting her. And the second something even remotely incriminating was on her - that was all it took to confirm all their suspicions. They had all been practically counting the seconds, waiting for her to go bad. When she looked to her so-called friends for support, it pushed them away. People claimed to be there for her, but when that actually required work and effort, she was being "selfish" and "manipulative". Say what you like about the way she treated her friends - she would never have treated them how they treated her.

She had never been loved as much as she loved.

She could not be blamed for her choices. They pushed her away. Every time she tried to rebuild and improve, each roadblock got worse and more intense. People knew which side they wanted to be on from the beginning. The facts weren't important. Back at the beginning, there were allegations about her doing awful things… and back then, she hadn't even done any of them. Anyone that knew her would know what she was and wasn't capable of. And clearly, nobody knew her. The way she saw it - if she was going to be lynched for crimes she didn't commit, was that anything but a welcome, free pass to do them anyway?

If everyone was already expecting her to be the bad guy, who was she to disagree? Why should she apologise for the monster she'd become? No one ever apologised for making her that way, afterall. Nobody tried to help her. Nobody offered a better path. They had resigned her to being the bad guy because it was easier than helping her. And it came back to bite them. Because, unfortunately for them, she happened to be very good at it. She wasn't to blame. They were. All of them were.

But so was she.

She turned over again.

The injustice of it all was sickening.

A lot of time had passed since she'd woken up now. Through a gap in the curtain she saw the sky was dark, though that wasn't much of an indicator of time, this late into the year. The wind was howling again - winter had been hitting harsher than usual. Between no sleep and a near constant pump of anxiety, the days were beginning to blur together. Any euphoria she'd been beginning to feel had been stamped out and drowned. She didn't feel like going to the pub today. Or yesterday. Probably not tomorrow, either. In fact, the most movement she was able to manage was dragging herself off of the floor and under the covers.

Why was she still here? What even was her plan, now?

The rest of the world was dead to her. It was only full of those that didn't realise it yet, or those that sought to do her harm. Death Eater or Auror - the difference doesn't matter. She had lost every friend, every security and every hope for herself. She had her plan and did everything it took to achieve it. She sacrificed it all, her attention never wavering. Every step along the way had been building toward that eventual goal. And she'd finally achieved it… and lost it all again. She was less than nothing now. No money, home or friends. It'd take an uphill struggle for the rest of her life to even get back on the same level as everyone else. And what kind of life would that be? To go from that to being forced to live life as a normal person? What, was she supposed to work an eight hour job, five days a week? The absolute best she could ever possibly achieve was the sort of existence she'd always looked down on.

Even if by some miracle, if she won every lottery and swindled every opportunity and was actually able to get a morsel of her old life back - to what end? She'd still be doing it on her own. She'd lost the most important things to her, and even if she could get an absolute replica of her old life running again, it would be without them. The best that she could ever possibly achieve from this moment… was second best.

And she didn't settle for second best.

So where did that leave her?

She couldn't go back - bridges were burned for good. Everyone she knew either hated her or wanted her dead. Forwards wasn't an option. The life she'd have to live wasn't an existence she'd lower herself to even entertain. She never got a chance to mourn or feel sorry for herself. She was never allowed to feel sorry for the shit hand she'd been dealt, it was just constant moving ahead and scrambling to hold her life together.

The thought of stopping it all had occurred. The more she drank, the easier that option became. But truth be told, it scared her. Surely the misery of room fourteen in the Leaky Cauldron was still better than nothingness? At least alive, there was always hope of things getting better… no matter how unlikely it may seem. Still, the thought had occurred to her nonetheless. Initially she'd just entertained the idea, but now as things grew ever worse and the guilt of her sins caught her up… the fantasy almost came as a relief nowadays.

She rolled over again - startling herself that she did still exist on the physical plane - and noted the dagger on the floor.

That's how she'd do it. It wouldn't be quick or painless, but at least she'd feel something. Probably still just a fantasy at this stage, but the fact it always was an option comforted her, in a strange way. Every day she woke up and continued on - that was her choice. She hated herself for making it, but supposed it did her a little good to know she hadn't dropped quite that low. Not yet, anyway. Maybe she'd reconsider tomorrow, if she was feeling brave. Depends how she felt.

"... I'm so fucked."

Her voice broke as she spoke. She was thirsty, but knew leaving the room for water was beyond her capability. So she remained, dry-mouthed, in the bed of room fourteen of the Leaky Cauldron.

At some point that night, after darkness set in, screaming began outside. Spells and glass breaking, far enough away that she didn't panic, but close enough to get a good idea of what was going on. It could have just been a burglary, she supposed, but it didn't matter anymore. She wasn't going to check. The window was on the other side of the room and she wasn't brave enough to dare a peak.

Finally a significant emotion struck her as she realised with annoyance that she was out of wine. It had been the only way she'd been able to get to sleep recently, and last nights had been the last of it.

She's in the darkest cavern of her life and it will never get better. Even if she could rebuild, she'll never get back what she lost. She loved who she was, but who she was now just was not worth the pain. They abandoned her. She is only what they made her. They could rot in hell.

She'd be waiting. She'd save them a seat.