August 8th, 1999
You're so, so pretty. She thought to herself. It was what everyone told her. She and her sister were beautiful, and sure, people wanted to have their perfection.
Until she did her morning spell, and, on this particular morning, that feeling was gone.
Up two pounds. Two whole pounds in just one day.
Gabrielle looked into the mirror, gripped her waist and squeezed it.
So ugly, I hate myself. Bloody hate myself. So disgusting.
She peered outside the door. She was staying at the Burrow, visiting her in-laws. The coast was clear, and no one would hear a sound, the sound of her imperfection.
Within moments, the bathroom door closed shut.
A quick tap of the inner throat, and Gabrielle was ill. Temporarily ill.
Perhaps tomorrow I will be beautiful again.