Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
I bite down savagely on a piece of bacon. You're an idiot, Malfoy, to think I don't eat. I eat much more than I should, even if some people imagine I eat less than I need. That's stupid. Idiotic. All of it is. The scrambled eggs feel greasy, flaccid and lukewarm as I force them down my throat, bite after bite, barely chewing, and glaring at you. I chase them with orange juice, sharp and acidic, hoping it will cut the overwhelming richness. No such luck. I feel strange and disgusting but I refuse to admit you're right. I can eat anything I want, and I start shoveling the hash browns in my mouth, barely bothering to chew before I swallow. My stomach lurches and I swallow hard. My entire body rebels against this invasion, but instead of stopping, I break off a piece of a scone, popping the sweet hard fluff into my mouth.
My head is swimming, but I don't get why. I don't even feel the body I live in is my own anymore, and the air around me is so thick and hot, I don't know how anyone can breathe. I have to get away, I have to get out. My head is spinning and I can barely stand now, but I'm walking so fast everything around me is a blur, breaking nearly into a run when I get away from prying eyes, until my knees slam against the cold hard tiles of the bathroom floor and my head is resting on my arms as everything I've eaten leaves me. I can't even remember whether I've gagged myself this time. I used to have to shove my fingers down my throat again and again to bring up whatever my body held and couldn't stand, but lately, more often than not, my stomach empties itself without any special prompting. I hate that I can't control it, but I always feel better when it's over. After some deep, steadying breaths, I stand on shaking legs to leave the stall, and my heart leaps into my throat as I see a pair of pale, bare feet on the floor beneath the divider. My heart is racing in my throat, but I brace myself and slowly open the door.
"Luna?" I ask, completely confused.
"Are you alright, Ginny?" Her eyes are so blue it's hard to lie, but still, it's impossible for me not to.
"I'm fine. I was just feeling a little off this morning. I thought I was just really hungry, but I guess something I ate didn't sit well. I'll skive off classes and rest for a few hours, and I'm sure I'll be fine."
She leans closer, and I feel naked under her gaze. "You've lost weight."
I blush and mumble, "thanks."
"I didn't mean it was good. Ginny, you look sick. I think you need to see Madam Pomfrey."
"No!" I try to fight the panic. "Luna, I'm fine." Why can she always tell when something is amiss? But nothing is wrong, right? I just ate too much. It would make anyone sick. I really should be more considerate of my stomach…
Luna sighs, following as I push past her to rinse out my mouth and splash cold water on my splotchy face. I glance at the mirror and see her dazed blue eyes still fixed on my face. I wonder why she hasn't left yet. "Let me walk you to the hospital wing."
"I told you already, it was just something I ate. All I need is rest."
"What did you eat?"
"I don't know. I don't remember."
"You didn't eat dinner."
"I got something from the kitchens."
"But you don't remember what?"
"Mind your own business, Looney." The serene look on her face doesn't change, but I can tell from the look in her eyes that I've hurt her. I feel bad. I really do like Luna, but I need her to leave me alone, and I don't know how else to make her. I storm out of the bathroom, heading for my first hour class.
You're talking to your friends in the corridor, leaning casually against the wall, but your cool, molten eyes catch mine for long enough that I'm sure I've been seen. I brace myself, but you don't confront me. I can't help but hurt a little when I remember you wouldn't risk being seen anywhere near me.
A heavy weight settles in my stomach when I remember I have potions first hour, with Ravenclaw. Luna is usually my partner, but after what I said to her this morning, I'm surprised when she sits at my table. My fingers are almost numb from the cold of the dungeon air, and my hands are shaking. I make a mental note to order better vitamins. Luna doesn't say much about what happened, but does most of the more complicated work herself, gazing at me curiously from time to time. Snape's passing our table more often than usual, and finally he stops to loom over us. I look up, feeling like a tiny particle floating somewhere deep inside myself. I brace myself for his reprimand, but he addresses Luna instead.
"Miss Weasley will never improve if you continue to do her work for her."
"She isn't feeling well, Sir."
"If she isn't well enough for class, she should have gone to the hospital wing."
My face feels hot and my heart is racing. "I'm fine, Professor."
His dark eyes bore into me, and after a moment, he banishes the contents of out cauldron. "Take her to Pomfrey, Miss Lovegood."
I start to object, but Luna takes my arm with a surprisingly firm grip and steers me out of the room. As soon as we're in the hall, I hiss, "I don't need this."
"Professor Snape said to take you to the hospital wing."
"Since when do you listen to everything he tells you?"
"I listen when he's right, Ginny."
"I'll just go lie down in the dormitory for a while."
She looks at me for a moment and says softly, "No, I don't think you will."
