Author's Note:
The Houses Competition (or THC) Round 8 (Bonus Round)
House: Slytherin
Class: Ancient Runes
Category: Drabble (up to 1,000 words)
Drabble Restriction Allocation: Ancient Runes: First Person
Prompt: [Charm] Semi-permanent glamour charm
Word Count: 982
Disclaimers/triggers: AU after the war. Talk of body insecurity, mention of canon violent acts and scars.
Beta Love: Thanks to Ebenbild, Charlie9646 for looking over my story!
A Beautiful Condition
I rise early, avoiding the mirror. I'm wearing four layers today, ensuring every bit of my skin is covered, despite the late-summer heat. Placing a hat on my head and sunglasses over my eyes, I tug my scarf up over my nose.
For the millionth time, I wish that I hadn't cast that damned spell.
I'd been trying to keep my boyfriend. I had ugly scars and I gained weight quickly once I started eating again. Soon, there were angry, red stretch marks across my body. I'd work tirelessly to help rebuild things, and then I'd lay awake at night thinking I hadn't done enough.
My boyfriend was patient with me. He understood, or at least he said he did. But he would look at me and I could tell he was flashing back to that horrible battle. When we slept, we both had nightmares, and finally had to sleep in separate rooms to avoid injuring each other.
He said he loved me, but he wouldn't kiss me, wouldn't touch me. His words didn't match his actions, and it was then I knew he wasn't attracted to me anymore. We would fight about the stupidest things. It was my fault as much as it was his. We were grieving, we were traumatized, and we hurt each other because of it.
But I thought I could fix it. I've always been clever, after all. I should have remembered the Polyjuice fiasco back in second year, and what had happened to me. Still, the glamour was a charm, not a potion, and I've always been good at charms.
I had to try.
The glamour charm was meant for amputations and often helped calm Phantom Limb pain. While I know that Ron was triggered by my scars, I also didn't want to see them. I didn't want to be reminded of being nearly split apart. I didn't want to remember Bellatrix. I was angry and ashamed of my body. I just wanted to look like me again.
So I tried the spell. It worked fairly well, but because I used it on my entire body, it took at least an hour to fully cast. I had to cast it every day. It made me tired, but it seemed like my plan was working. He would finally touch me and kiss me without revulsion or hesitancy. I could look in the mirror without wanting to cry.
The magic took a toll on me, though, and I ended up in St Mungo's for depleting my magical core.
I spent a month in bed after returning from the hospital, gutted at the fact that I would only be able to be the proper version of me a few times a month.
It didn't take long for my relationship with Ron to begin to fail again. He was distant, the trauma responses returned. He couldn't touch me because he couldn't touch my scars. I researched ways to make charms permanent. There were a few obscure texts that mentioned the possibility, but it wasn't proven.
I began to experiment.
In the end, I had a breakthrough.
I finally got the spell to refresh automatically. It required building and sleeping on a special bed frame with runic coils to make the glamour semi-permanent. The spell would refresh with minimal effects to my magical core. On paper, it was foolproof. I was certain that I'd finally done it.
I should have done a test run before trying it on myself. But I was desperate. The nightmares had returned. I was touch-starved and felt like I was about to break down sobbing every day.
My desperation was my undoing.
Something in the alteration of the spell amplified its effects. Now, I not only looked like an idealized version of myself, but I somehow became alluring in a way that I'd never experienced before. Ron was enthralled by me, much to my joy, but so was Harry, Ginny, and literally anyone else I came into contact with. Within a week, I'd caused several fights between my friends, all of whom became smitten with me whenever I was nearby. I couldn't take it.
I locked myself in my room at Grimmauld place and tried to undo the spell, but the moment I began to cancel it, my body started to overload from the strain of the energy required and I passed out. Then, I simply tried to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag instead of the bed, awakening in the middle of the night so weak that I nearly did not have the strength to crawl into the bed to save my own life. I realized with horror that I had become dependent on the spell refreshing process.
I began to cover my entire body. I could finally leave the room without causing any issues as long as my skin was covered. I needed to repair my relationships with my friends, but most of them were horrified at what I had done, and in the end Ron couldn't forgive me for how I'd damaged his relationship with his best friend and his sister.
In the end, I had to leave. I used my money to open up a small Potions mail distribution business, which pays the bills enough to secure me a small flat over a popular Indian restaurant in London. It's a quiet life, and I mostly correspond with my remaining friends by letter or email. Luna has been kindly trying to find something to cure me in her travels, but I know there's no use.
I no longer have dreams for the future, just the grace of a continued existence, such as it is. Ironically, though now that I am unnaturally beautiful, I can't bear to look at myself. It's too painful a reminder of the fact that no matter how I look, I'll never be good enough.