Sorry it's been so long since I updated. Things have been crazy lately. But I finally got around to writing this next chapter. It's amazing what you can get done en route to Switzerland from JFK in NYC. Thanks so much to all my reviewers and all of my other readers. All of the feedback is strongly appreciated and more reviews are always welcome (hint, hint) This chapter I admit may not be much. But, I have a little twist coming in the next chapter.

Confessions of a Potter Princess XII

"Oh good, you're awake" came an unfamiliar female voice. I groggily opened my eyes and tried too sit up but my head was pounding and I instantly fell back against the pillows.

"Don't sit up you're still weak, now here drink this" she said handing me a silver goblet of green steaming liquid

"What is it? Wait, Where am I? " I asked confused and still sleepy.

"Please drink it Ms. Potter and I'll answer your questions in just a minute" she said to me. I choked down the potion and my head became instantly clearer and I felt more alert.

"Did you finish all of it? Good, it's replenishing potion. You're at the St. Pierre Wizarding Hospital of Paris by the way. I'm Assistant Healer Vivienne. Now, I'm going to alert Healer Des Lyons that you're awake. There's a young man and woman outside who brought you in, I'll send them into see you as well. You rest, and don't go anywhere" and with that she left the room.

I looked around at my hospital room. I could see my reflection in the shiny silver of the goblet now lying on my bedside table.

"Oh Merlin I look horrible" I said to myself.

"Well you would have looked a lot worse six feet under" came the unmistakable breathy voice of Delilah. She walked into the room and hugged me before sitting at the foot of the hospital bed.

"How are you feeling?" asked Colton as he followed her into the room, kissing me gently on the forehead before also sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Ok, tired but I feel fine otherwise" I responded weakly. I was embarrassed by what happened, glad that they had helped me, but also embarrassed that my vulnerability had been so exposed.

"The healer says your thirty pounds underweight. Do you remember what happened at all?" asked Delilah

"Honestly not much, I remember coming off the runway and being dressed for the next outfit, I had a pretty bad headache, but that's the last thing I remember."

"That's basically what happened, you had just finished walking and then you collapsed backstage. Gates alerted a security guard and they came and told us what happened. We went backstage and saw you lying on the floor in the middle of a crowd of people." Colton said

"Oh Char, it was so scary. You were so pale and bony that you looked dead" Delilah said bursting into tears

I felt so bad. I never meant to hurt them too. Delilah and I hugged for a long time afterward and we both cried for a while.

"How long have I been out?" I asked after a long time.

"About a day and a half. Gates, Lana, Theodora and Lulu stopped by for a while. The girls all felt horrible. They were crying and all in the midst of a breakdown. I'm sure they must have felt bad. Your family is on their way as we speak. They should be here in about an hour or so" said Colton

"Oh, they can't see me like this. What am I going to tell them? I can't tell them about the drugs. They can't know."

"Colton and I talked about this with Healer Des Lyons already." Delilah told me "You parents don't have to know about the cocaine, and nobody can force you to tell them, we won't. But, they are requiring you to go to a rehabilitation facility for the anorexia. We just want you to be happy again Charlotte, and healthy"

"But look at me. I'm just a breathing disaster. Nobody can see me like this"

"Your still gorgeous princess, but maybe you should let people see you Charlotte. I mean last time I was here you were still unconscious and I must say you were very fucking rude to me. You didn't say a word." Colton said

I laughed but inside I still felt like a failure.

Six Weeks Later

"Charlotte, lets start with you. Please describe why you're here and how it was that you ended up here at Doillon" came the soothing voice of Lorne Savoy, my group leader at Doillon Centre, which is basically a rehab clinic for the rich and famous.

"Umm, okay well I had an eating issue. Like, I-uh I didn't do it. I was going through a tough time; you know lots of personal drama and work issues. And I…well; it culminated in me collapsing backstage after walking in one of the shows at Couture Week."

"Thank you Charlotte, Cristoff why don't you go next, describe why you're here and what made you choose Doillon…"

My thoughts wandered as Cristoff Verne, a German Quidditch Star, told his story of his descent into alcoholism. At first I had been too weak to actually attend rehab so after six weeks of bed rest and fifteen pounds later, they deemed me ready to go to a full-time rehab clinic for two weeks. Basically I was here to straighten out; to realize that I wasn't so fucked up and to get back on track and focus on finding healthier releases for my frustrations with life. Today was more of an orientation day. We arrived this morning and were put into small groups of people with all kinds of problems.

The purpose was to realize that everyone had problems of all different natures and to also realize that we can support each other through the good times and the bad, or at least that's what Lorne said. For the remaining two weeks, I would mostly be with people that had eating disorders as well.

Gosh, that was so hard for me to say, that I had a disorder, that I had a problem. I had always been viewed as perfect, flawless. The beautiful, rich, smart, talented, perfect daughter of the most famous wizard to ever live.

It was so hard when my family first came to see me. Before I knew it, my whole story just came pouring out, the starvation, the alcohol, the cocaine, the desperation for perfection. I didn't plan it, but it happened. And they weren't angry or anything. I cried and cried till it felt like my narrow chest would split from my wracking sobs. But my father just held me. "Stop saying your sorry princess" the only words he said to me other than I Love You.

In the West River Atrium, the building of the center where my meetings took place there were no mirrors or scales. We had group discussions and during our free time we had many different creative outlets. I rediscovered ballet at Doillon. They had a large airy empty dance studio on the third floor of my dorm. Often I would go up there by myself or with one of the many other ballerinas, former and professional, and we'd dance and dance. We'd pirouette to our favorite Tchaikovsky and Vivaldi without the criticism of teachers and parents and other girls. More than that though, I feel free and alive and afterwards I go to the art studio and draw and design and I realize why I do the things that I do again and why I love fashion and why my life just revolves around it.

Being able to get away from the media and all of that pressure, it's a release. Maybe what I needed more than anything was really a vacation, and I don't mean the kind that I had been supposedly taking where the paparazzi constantly followed and I partyed constantly without sleep.

Rehab wasn't all great though. In my group there was a Dutch girl by the name of Ekaterina Van der Houtzen, the daughter of a big time real estate developer, she really seemed to hate me. About a week into rehab, during a group discussion, we all sat around talking about what influenced our personal body image. She stood up and came right up to me.

"It was you!" she yelled, "All those pictures, the clothes, everything, all the boys, all they talk about is how much they want you. Because you-you have everything, you have it all, your PERFECT! Well you know what; nobody told me that I wasn't supposed to be that perfect. Nobody told me that nobody's that perfect. Not even YOU!"

And what do you say to that really? It's disturbing and strange to say the least that just my image had that kind of power over others.

Finally at the end of the two weeks, and fifteen pounds later, I was able to head home. I still needed to gain weight and I was still required to visit the doctor twice a week. It was hard to find out what the anorexia and bulimia had done to my body. I couldn't have any really acidic foods because all of my throwing up had damaged my esophagus. I had to take all kinds of calcium supplements because my bones had become so frail.

But the most devastating part of all was that the doctors weren't sure if was going to be able to have children. My period had stopped for too long. That for me was so hard to take I mean, I've always wanted children. Lots of children, a house full of family and laughter and little babies and noise and just everything that I grew up in. It wasn't fair.

Please R&R