A/N: I've never written anything like this before. In fact, this is my
first fanfiction. You can flame me if you want, but don't read this in the
first place if drunken Harry Potter characters will offend you. This might
get violent, so the rating is PG-13. Again, please, please don't read if
you'll get offended.
Down In Flames
Harry and Ginny walked into the Three Broomsticks for Lady's Night and Happy Hour. (I don't know traditionally when Happy Hour is supposed to be, so it's just going to be some random hour in the night.) Ginny was wearing a tight, sparkly leather dress. The black leather hugged every curve and each breast more beautifully than anything, well, at least to Harry. Harry was wearing tight black leather pants, which would show an erection, which Ginny, being 24, was attracted to now.
They spotted Hermione and Ron, Ron in tight red leather pants and Hermione in a floaty, scarlet dress that was also tight until the hips and breast area, where it was very, very tight. Her hair was magically dissolved in curls that hung about her cheeks and shoulders. Harry's muscle shirt showed off the well-paid-off Quidditch. Holding on to a broomstick was a surprisingly good shaping exercise.
They each ordered a margarita. Harry drank his down in a few swigs. Ginny began to get worried. She had never been drinking with Harry before. She didn't know if he could be dangerous or not.
Harry had never drank before, and while the stinging sensation burned his throat, after the first few times he liked it. He ordered shots. Before long, there were about eight empty shot glasses sitting in front of him. Nine.Ten.Eleven?! When was he going to stop?! Then Harry made a weird action. He looked at Ginny and pulled a disgusted face.
"When are you going to lose some of that.what is it? Eight hundred pounds?" Then he began to laugh hysterically. The others were still sipping their margaritas out of the tiniest glasses Harry had ever seen! Ginny's dress must have been made of rubber. About forty rolls of fat showed and her face was round and she had, like, ten chins. She was the most unattractive thing Harry had ever seen! What was he doing with her? Her legs were the size of tree branches, and not the ones at the top, but the trunk and all its fellows.
(A/N: I would have no problem going to, say, a school dance with someone this weight because they tend to be very nice. There is NOTHING I repeat NOTHING wrong with fat people. You have no idea what caused them to be that way, and it could be a genetic problem. You don't know that! I am slightly overweight myself and have taken action, such as dance classes and cutting back on sugar, to help this. Most of my friends are overweight. I am. Do NOT think that I have a problem with overweight people!!!)
Ginny looked at him and tears filled her eyes. She didn't know what Harry was seeing, but she knew it couldn't be pretty. She looked down and, suddenly, in her eyes, she saw ten rolls of fat. She had to lose them! She ran to the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron were trying to calm down Harry. He had downed four more shots and was very, very drunk. Hermione was sobbing and Ron's eyes were full of hot tears, but he wiped them away, embarrassed for Hermione to see him in such a state. Then a strange expression crossed Harry's face. Hermione and Ron braced themselves for more, meaner insults, but they did not come. Instead, he wore a peaceful expression. A dark spot was growing on the front of Harry's pants.
Hermione stopped sobbing and held back giggles, despite the trauma he was in. Ron laughed apologetically, and Harry laughed, and then hiccupped. He demanded another drink.
Harry felt pleasant after he had done his business. He asked for another shot. Hermione tried to stop the bartender, a skinny, and model-type woman in a tiny cocktail dress with gigantic breasts. He stuffed a few galleons in her cleavage, and she carried on, despite Hermione's now desperate pleas. He downed several more shots. Then he decided it was a night, and apparated, luckily accurately, considering his state, to his and Ginny's flat.
~***~
Ginny was in the bathroom, pacing the floor. Then she realized she really needed to go, so she went, thinking about how to lose the disappointing weight. Then she had and idea. She pulled up her thong (A/N: BAD IMAGE!) and leaned over the flushed toilet. She stuck her finger down her throat. This would be easy. She stuck it farther, not feeling anything. Then she heaved, and she threw up. She did this several times before she saw a yellow, sour-tasting substance. She recognised the taste and knew her stomach was empty. She did it once more just to be sure, and left the bathroom, feeling highly confident.
That was easy thought Ginny. I'm going to do this a lot more often. Sure it's unpleasant to be sick, but at least I'll be good enough for Harry. I won't mind my finger down my throat after the first few times. I'll adjust.
As the nights went on, things got steadily worse. Ginny was upset at Harry still for insulting her, but she was shedding pounds every day! She really didn't mind her finger down her throat now, and she had become accustomed to her new routine. She would east breakfast, throw up a few times, and then wait until lunch, where she would eat a scrumptious meal, then lean over the toilet, as usual. Dinner was the best, because she ate the most and then it was easy to throw it all up. Her body had become so used to the habit that sometimes she hardly had to stick her finger down her throat at all, her body sensed it coming, and then she just threw up.
After a few days, Harry began to notice Ginny getting thinner and thinner. He thought at first that she would get over it after a while and stop, but he hadn't read the horrendous stories about girls who had done this.
Finally, they were eating dinner and Ginny collapsed out of nowhere. He didn't know what was going on, and he heard her head hit the floor. Hard. He picked her up and put her in the bed. Then he realized how light and frail she felt in his arms. He turned her over and lifted her dress. The bumps from the bones on her back were huge, and her skin was a milky colour, and unhealthy white. Her front was worse. Her stomach caved like nothing he had seen before. He saw every turn of her ribs and could count them if he wanted to.
Harry had no idea why she was doing this. He had no recollection of the night a few weeks before, when he went to the bar with Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. An idea, a horrible, terrible idea formed in his head.
I think I heard a story once about some guy who got so drunk he couldn't remember anything and hurt everyone by saying things he didn't know he was saying! I must have gotten drunk that night and called her fat! That's why she's been going to the bathroom after every meal. I thought I heard some strange noises coming from the bathroom. She must have been throwing up all I cooked for her. She's losing too much weight. She must be. Harry gasped.Bulimic!
Harry aroused Ginny. "I'm taking you to the hospital! The Muggle hospital!"
"Why, love?" She just realized she had eaten dinner previously. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said, batting her big brown eyes. (A/N: for those of you who think that Ginny's eyes are a different colour, read the second book, chapter three, I believe, and you will find that Ginny's eyes are brown. She shuts the door quickly, and Harry sees big brown eyes from behind the door. Thank you. *bow, bow, blow kisses*)
"Ginny, please, just come with me! What's wrong with you?"
Her eyes filled with hurt tears. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!"
Harry had to blink back tears of his own. "Why won't you tell me?"
"It goes like this." She began her dreadful story, and was sobbing hysterically by the time she was finished. Harry looked at her and realized that she was serious. Harry wiped tears off his cheeks.
"Darling, I don't think you're fat! I suppose that I was so drunk that night I didn't know what I was saying. I'm really, really sorry! Can you ever forgive me?"
Ginny stared at Harry. She didn't know whether to trust him or not. She studied his facial features. His eyes were red and full of tears. His smooth cheeks were shining of moisture, and his chin was quivering. He looked like the Harry she remembered, the Harry she went to school with. The skinny English schoolboy who only had just found out that he was famous. She knew he had to be telling the truth.
"Ginny, please stop doing this. I'm not going to let you out of my sight after meals. I want you to grow healthier, stronger. I want you to live." Harry was sobbing by know, his hands over his face. Ginny couldn't stand to see him like this. She nearly started to sob herself, but thought better of it and rested a hand on Harry's shaking shoulder.
"Harry, you know I'd do anything for you! I'll stop if I really am not fat, because all I care about is what you think of me!"
~*~EPOLOGUE~*~
Ginny tried very, very hard to fight bulimia. After several weeks, she regained her strength and returned to her normal size.
Down In Flames
Harry and Ginny walked into the Three Broomsticks for Lady's Night and Happy Hour. (I don't know traditionally when Happy Hour is supposed to be, so it's just going to be some random hour in the night.) Ginny was wearing a tight, sparkly leather dress. The black leather hugged every curve and each breast more beautifully than anything, well, at least to Harry. Harry was wearing tight black leather pants, which would show an erection, which Ginny, being 24, was attracted to now.
They spotted Hermione and Ron, Ron in tight red leather pants and Hermione in a floaty, scarlet dress that was also tight until the hips and breast area, where it was very, very tight. Her hair was magically dissolved in curls that hung about her cheeks and shoulders. Harry's muscle shirt showed off the well-paid-off Quidditch. Holding on to a broomstick was a surprisingly good shaping exercise.
They each ordered a margarita. Harry drank his down in a few swigs. Ginny began to get worried. She had never been drinking with Harry before. She didn't know if he could be dangerous or not.
Harry had never drank before, and while the stinging sensation burned his throat, after the first few times he liked it. He ordered shots. Before long, there were about eight empty shot glasses sitting in front of him. Nine.Ten.Eleven?! When was he going to stop?! Then Harry made a weird action. He looked at Ginny and pulled a disgusted face.
"When are you going to lose some of that.what is it? Eight hundred pounds?" Then he began to laugh hysterically. The others were still sipping their margaritas out of the tiniest glasses Harry had ever seen! Ginny's dress must have been made of rubber. About forty rolls of fat showed and her face was round and she had, like, ten chins. She was the most unattractive thing Harry had ever seen! What was he doing with her? Her legs were the size of tree branches, and not the ones at the top, but the trunk and all its fellows.
(A/N: I would have no problem going to, say, a school dance with someone this weight because they tend to be very nice. There is NOTHING I repeat NOTHING wrong with fat people. You have no idea what caused them to be that way, and it could be a genetic problem. You don't know that! I am slightly overweight myself and have taken action, such as dance classes and cutting back on sugar, to help this. Most of my friends are overweight. I am. Do NOT think that I have a problem with overweight people!!!)
Ginny looked at him and tears filled her eyes. She didn't know what Harry was seeing, but she knew it couldn't be pretty. She looked down and, suddenly, in her eyes, she saw ten rolls of fat. She had to lose them! She ran to the bathroom.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron were trying to calm down Harry. He had downed four more shots and was very, very drunk. Hermione was sobbing and Ron's eyes were full of hot tears, but he wiped them away, embarrassed for Hermione to see him in such a state. Then a strange expression crossed Harry's face. Hermione and Ron braced themselves for more, meaner insults, but they did not come. Instead, he wore a peaceful expression. A dark spot was growing on the front of Harry's pants.
Hermione stopped sobbing and held back giggles, despite the trauma he was in. Ron laughed apologetically, and Harry laughed, and then hiccupped. He demanded another drink.
Harry felt pleasant after he had done his business. He asked for another shot. Hermione tried to stop the bartender, a skinny, and model-type woman in a tiny cocktail dress with gigantic breasts. He stuffed a few galleons in her cleavage, and she carried on, despite Hermione's now desperate pleas. He downed several more shots. Then he decided it was a night, and apparated, luckily accurately, considering his state, to his and Ginny's flat.
~***~
Ginny was in the bathroom, pacing the floor. Then she realized she really needed to go, so she went, thinking about how to lose the disappointing weight. Then she had and idea. She pulled up her thong (A/N: BAD IMAGE!) and leaned over the flushed toilet. She stuck her finger down her throat. This would be easy. She stuck it farther, not feeling anything. Then she heaved, and she threw up. She did this several times before she saw a yellow, sour-tasting substance. She recognised the taste and knew her stomach was empty. She did it once more just to be sure, and left the bathroom, feeling highly confident.
That was easy thought Ginny. I'm going to do this a lot more often. Sure it's unpleasant to be sick, but at least I'll be good enough for Harry. I won't mind my finger down my throat after the first few times. I'll adjust.
As the nights went on, things got steadily worse. Ginny was upset at Harry still for insulting her, but she was shedding pounds every day! She really didn't mind her finger down her throat now, and she had become accustomed to her new routine. She would east breakfast, throw up a few times, and then wait until lunch, where she would eat a scrumptious meal, then lean over the toilet, as usual. Dinner was the best, because she ate the most and then it was easy to throw it all up. Her body had become so used to the habit that sometimes she hardly had to stick her finger down her throat at all, her body sensed it coming, and then she just threw up.
After a few days, Harry began to notice Ginny getting thinner and thinner. He thought at first that she would get over it after a while and stop, but he hadn't read the horrendous stories about girls who had done this.
Finally, they were eating dinner and Ginny collapsed out of nowhere. He didn't know what was going on, and he heard her head hit the floor. Hard. He picked her up and put her in the bed. Then he realized how light and frail she felt in his arms. He turned her over and lifted her dress. The bumps from the bones on her back were huge, and her skin was a milky colour, and unhealthy white. Her front was worse. Her stomach caved like nothing he had seen before. He saw every turn of her ribs and could count them if he wanted to.
Harry had no idea why she was doing this. He had no recollection of the night a few weeks before, when he went to the bar with Ginny, Hermione, and Ron. An idea, a horrible, terrible idea formed in his head.
I think I heard a story once about some guy who got so drunk he couldn't remember anything and hurt everyone by saying things he didn't know he was saying! I must have gotten drunk that night and called her fat! That's why she's been going to the bathroom after every meal. I thought I heard some strange noises coming from the bathroom. She must have been throwing up all I cooked for her. She's losing too much weight. She must be. Harry gasped.Bulimic!
Harry aroused Ginny. "I'm taking you to the hospital! The Muggle hospital!"
"Why, love?" She just realized she had eaten dinner previously. "I have to go to the bathroom," she said, batting her big brown eyes. (A/N: for those of you who think that Ginny's eyes are a different colour, read the second book, chapter three, I believe, and you will find that Ginny's eyes are brown. She shuts the door quickly, and Harry sees big brown eyes from behind the door. Thank you. *bow, bow, blow kisses*)
"Ginny, please, just come with me! What's wrong with you?"
Her eyes filled with hurt tears. "If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!"
Harry had to blink back tears of his own. "Why won't you tell me?"
"It goes like this." She began her dreadful story, and was sobbing hysterically by the time she was finished. Harry looked at her and realized that she was serious. Harry wiped tears off his cheeks.
"Darling, I don't think you're fat! I suppose that I was so drunk that night I didn't know what I was saying. I'm really, really sorry! Can you ever forgive me?"
Ginny stared at Harry. She didn't know whether to trust him or not. She studied his facial features. His eyes were red and full of tears. His smooth cheeks were shining of moisture, and his chin was quivering. He looked like the Harry she remembered, the Harry she went to school with. The skinny English schoolboy who only had just found out that he was famous. She knew he had to be telling the truth.
"Ginny, please stop doing this. I'm not going to let you out of my sight after meals. I want you to grow healthier, stronger. I want you to live." Harry was sobbing by know, his hands over his face. Ginny couldn't stand to see him like this. She nearly started to sob herself, but thought better of it and rested a hand on Harry's shaking shoulder.
"Harry, you know I'd do anything for you! I'll stop if I really am not fat, because all I care about is what you think of me!"
~*~EPOLOGUE~*~
Ginny tried very, very hard to fight bulimia. After several weeks, she regained her strength and returned to her normal size.