The Houses Competition, Year 2, Round 1. Writing for Hufflepuff, Year 3, Drabble.
Prompt: [Object] Rope.
Word count: 302
Beta: Aya, Magi
Summary: Suicide trigger warning.
Crabbe examined the braided rope. Such a boring item, one which he would never have paid attention to had he not wanted to use it. It was rather thick, wider than his finger - the size made it difficult to tie.
Most people didn't know that Crabbe was a good at tying knots. It was something he did a lot before he started Hogwarts. Though, Malfoy banned him from doing it at school. The Malfoy were important, a powerful family. Draco never messed up.
Crabbe, however, often did. He ate too much. He didn't pay enough attention. And was a disgrace to his family. He wasn't publicly shamed; that made things more difficult.
The fourteen-year-old took his time as he looked around his families ballroom. It drew a lot of life when his family hosted others. It wasn't usually visited unless there was a party. Such a big room, forgotten for most of the year - a bit like he felt.
To prove a point to himself, he noisily dragged a chair across the room into the perfect spot and placed his wand on the ground; he wouldn't be needing it.
Carefully stepping on the chair, he reached up and tied the rope around a support beam. He was almost able to smile at how well the reef knot came out. Almost.
Slowly, he tied a second knot, a different knot. He wasn't sure if it had a name, though, that didn't really matter.
Sometimes, only sometimes, Crabbe wished he was born into a different family, or even born a squib. He feels like a squib sometimes.
"Goodbye," he said, his voice low and muffled like it usually was.
Crabbe put the rope around his neck, closed his eyes, and waited for it to all end.
Nobody even heard his last word.