By Altra
Sighing, the boy drummed his finger upon the marble table, waiting for his cauldron to boil. His slender fingers rhythmically hit the table, creating a soft lullaby to his ears.
Slowly, he began to rock back and forth to the rhythm, eyelids dropping. In the back of his mind he saw the stars dancing, begging him to follow. Black slipped over his eyes, as he spun along with the stars.
***
Smiling, she brushed a strand of shocking red hair from her sleeve. Being in the dueling club at the time, she placed her quill against the crisp parchment, noting certain curses, discarding others.
"Mrs. Weasley, would you kindly come up here? I'd like to demonstrate to disarming spell," a crisp voice slid into Ginny's ears.
"Okay Professor." Ginny walked to the front of the class, face a brilliant scarlet shade. She stood before the stern professor, wand held before her.
"Expelleramus!" the woman cried. Ginny felt her wand fly from her hand, her body giving a violent shake, before falling into darkness, with laughter ringing in her ears.
***
Face blank, a dark-haired girl stumbled from the showers, towel wrapped around her body.
Unaware of the other occupants of the girls Quidditch locker room, her scar riddled arms could be seen, angry red circles forming around them. Breathing in deeply, she tried her best to keep the nausea at bay.
With a small cry, she crumpled to the ground, now aware of the eyes as a soft calm overtook her.
***
Frozen eyes forced themselves open, sparkling stars slipping away. Turning his head, a feathery pillow crinkled under his head, silver-blonde hair plastered against his scalp. Burning heat seared through him, his body unconsciously shaking. Light burst through an unsheathed window, causing the blue eyes to squint, the owner muffling curses. Exhaustion seeped into his bones, pale limbs shaking worse then before.
"Mister Malfoy, would you like some chocolate?" a stern voice asked, a twinge of care inserted.
Closing his eyes, the pale boy shook his head, a small smile on his lips as the stars danced again.
***
"Miss Weasley? Virginia dear, are you all right?" Red hair sprawled out, surrounding a young girls head. A woman, dark hair in a severe bun, hovered anxiously. Cautious brown eyes slowly opened, though a feeling of sickness rose in her throat.
"What happened?" she whispered. The rough, coarse voice, sounded foreign to her ears.
"Enough! Professor McGonagall, Miss Weasley needs her rest!" A voice, ever so familiar, snapped.
Standing, the Professor cast her student one last look before leaving. Sleep called to her, softly whispering words so sweet. Another woman appeared over her, graying hair pulled back in a clip.
"My dear, when did you last eat?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"Breakfast," she muttered. Sickness rose in her throat again.
"Do you have an eating disorder Miss Weasley?" the woman questioned. Ginny couldn't keep the surprise from her face. Nausea rose again. Sleep screamed for her. She responded, drifting along, though laughter followed.
***
She felt herself floating, she heard voices weeping, pain licking her hands. Liquid fire seeped into her veins, churning her bones. Voices grew louder, the pain subsided. Hesitantly, dark eyes opened, seeing many others in the bright room. Opening her mouth, the sand paper raw feeling of air against her throat nauseated her to no end.
An itch spread across her cuts, as a small tingle.
"Miss Chang, would you like some water?" Turning her head, Cho focused on the woman addressing her. Nodding slowly, she felt the sickness rising again. Whispers flitted about her, as eyes focused. Cho wished herself to disappear. A voice boomed for the eyes to leave. Satisfied and lone, dark tresses traversed across the almond skin, dark eyes closed.
***
"Madam Pomfrey, I believe you have a topic to discuss?"
A gray-haired woman stood up in silent acknowledgment. Deep purple robes fit her frame, a unique aura it created. Solemn face held no sign of the usual happiness felt throughout the staff meetings. The teachers shifted under the scrutiny of the matron, sending questioning looks towards Albus.
"As you should know, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley, and Miss Chang are currently in the Hospital Wing," she began.
"Madam, if you feel in necessary to restate what we already know, could you at least save it until after the meeting is over?" a voice came, drenched with boredom. A well aimed glare silence the protester.
"Pardon, I didn't know that an anorexic, bulimic, and a cutter are of no importance," Madam Pomfrey snapped.
"What?!" Snape yelled, slamming his hands upon the cedar desk as he rose.
"Severus, calm down. Let me explain." Hesitantly, the Potions Master sat. "Mr. Malfoy is far below a healthy weight for his height. A male, nearly six feet tall, should not weigh 98 pounds."
Chaos erupted. Teachers got to their feet, expressing disbelief and anger.
"Silence!" Albus commanded, getting to his feet. "We shall discuss this is a sane and rational manner. There will be no more interruptions." The professors blushed, ashamed at their childish antics.
"Mr. Malfoy is an anorexic, and there is Miss Weasley, whom I've diagnosed as a bulimic. Upon questioning her friends, it appears that Miss Weasley eats plenty of food, the usually goes to the bathroom. Myrtle told me that Miss Weasley had indeed been vomiting her meals in the bathroom. I'm afraid that Miss Chang turned to self mutilation. If I am not mistaken, Professor Sinstra found a bloodied knife on the Astronomy deck." The room was silent, distant bird calls could just be heard.
"Why are they in the Hospital Wing unconscious?" Professor Sprout questioned, the sleeves of her robes rolled.
"Mr. Malfoy fainted due to lack of carbohydrates in his system. Miss Weasley suffers from shock, having a curse sent at her as a demonstration. Miss Chang's cuts have become infected."
"Plan of action?" a voice questioned.
"That is what also needs to be addressed. I think that the three should attend the Institute for Young Magically Ill Persons," Madam Pomfrey said. Tapping her wand against the desk, a handbook with the name of the facility scrawled upon the cover.
"But the Institute also allows non-humans in. What risks..." Professor McGonagall asked. Wisps of hair slipped out of her bun, which once was severe, now loose.
"There are no risks. All potentially violent persons are under watch. Vampires are well fed, werewolves under wolfsbane, elves and dwarves separated, etcetera, etcetera."
"What about schooling?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"The Institute runs not only a recovery program, but also a magical instruction course. Many non-humans are sent there mainly for the training, thought for Vampires and werewolves, the added bonus' are very much welcomed."
"Do many humans attend?" Madam Pomfrey mentally slapped the questioner. The one flaw, she thought.
"No, very few," she hesitated, glancing towards Dumbledore.
"But wouldn't that pose a threat to the three? Being an adolescent is bad enough, with a disorder is even worse, but to be living among potentially dangerous non-humans? Wouldn't that do more harm than good?" Professor McGonagall questioned. Madam Pomfrey shifted from foot to foot, a feeling of shame rising in her.
"It-it will help us all," she murmured after a while.
"What do you mean?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"The children will get the help they need..." she trailed off, uncertainty painted upon her face.
"And get rid of the problem they pose to the rest of the student body at the same time?" Professor Snape stood slowly, letting his comment take full effect. "We all know that is the reason for the haste in this matter." Silently, his dark form padded from the room.
One by one, the other teachers rose, grim, shamed, demoralized. One by one, they voted in support. One by one, they stole from the room. One by one, they turned away.
_____
A/N: I know I wrote this story a long time ago, but the format was horrible, and I only recently discovered this. Most of the reviews I got were from people with some experience with one of the diseases in this fic. I'd just like to stress how important it is to get help; whether it be from a friend or a teacher or whoever. You might not mean to injure yourself, but it could happen. Anyway, I'm in no position to lecture, only advise.