Hermione
It is a well-known fact that Gryffindor and Slytherin don't get along; it is also a well-known fact that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter would do anything to get to each other, or to each other's friends.
'Enjoy breakfast Mudfuck,' Pansy hissed at the trio as they entered the Great Hall.
Ron scowled after her, 'I bet she's put a Gurdyroot or Boobur pus in your pumpkin juice, Hermione.'
He grinned, 'Lets do the same to her.'
Hermione smiled, 'That's ridiculous Ron, if you'd read Hogwarts A History you'd know very well that the plates in the Great Hall deflect any life threatening poisons.'
'Yeah but a Gurdyroot's not exactly poisonous is it? It'd just make everything taste foul.'
Hermione pondered this for a moment. What had Pansy meant? She contemplated for a split second that Pansy had found a way around the poison deflecting plates. Seconds later she laughed, then shook her head.
That's absurd.
After a paranoid few minutes she reasoned that Pansy was too thick to think of anything like Gurdyroot. Thatwas more Fred and George's realm.
Owls screeched overheard; the post had arrived. An owl swooped down with her usual delivery of The Daily Prophet and there was also a small blue envelope.
She opened it curiously. There was only one sentence:
I wouldn't eat that muffin if I were you fatty.
She opened her mouth in shock.
What the hell?
Pansy.
'Um, Hermione?' asked Ron timidly.
'What?' She snapped, 'Are you going to call me a fatty too?'
Ron nodded.
Hermione's mouth widened further in indignation.
What the hell?
And then she looked down. At first she thought she was seeing things. Her body was rapidly swelling, gaining weight at an uncanny speed.
The Slytherins began to laugh loudly.
'Makes no difference!' One called out loudly.
She gasped, and her face turned red, embarrassment growing inside her as quickly as her outside was expanding.
Hermione ran from the hall, covering her face in her hands.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. There was a curse in the envelope. A horrible and cruel curse.
How could I be so stupid?
Madame Pomfrey fixed her in a jiffy but there was no way of fixing the scar that was left behind, not on her body but on her emotions.
There was no difference.
I am fat.
I have a fat waist, fat thighs, and a fat back and why did my breasts have to develop so big?
She found herself observing others all day still in complete embarrassment; she kept looking at the girls who had just the right arm size or the perfect stomach.
Her appetite was low and she ate very little. Ron and Harry didn't question.
She often wondered, if they had asked what was wrong that day, if somehow it would have stopped her illness from taking a grasp on her.
Every meal she would sit down and tell herself, she was only skimping on food for the one day. She just stared at the food, not touching a single bite.
Just like the first time she tested the waters of starvation, she hit the three-day mark and her stomach began to hurt tremendously.
She felt sick and elated at the same.
How can I do this to myself?
But at the same time, she was proud of her will power.
On the night of the third day, she examined herself in the mirror and saw with unexplainable glee, that she had lost weight. Her stomach looked just that little bit less round.
I'm still fatter than everyone else.
She did forty crunches before bed.
When she woke up 12 hours later, it was Friday and she felt woozy.
As Ron and Harry began shovelling food into their mouths, Hermione looked at an omelette nearby and the smell drifted to her nose.
It was the most fantastic scent.
Just a bite.
As the food passed her mouth she felt a strange rush of emotions she'd never before experienced just from something as simple as eating.
She regretted that she hadn't eaten for three days. She felt simultaneously guilty and happy that she was eating, the food tasted fantastic. It was as though her body sighed in relief, but that didn't stop her for feeling bad that she'd broken her fast.
She couldn't stop at one mouthful, her mind screamed no but her hands kept moving, spooning it into her mouth as if on automatic. Within four mouthfuls her chest began to hurt and her stomach wailed simultaneously in pain and in relief.
She was full after six bites. Her stomach felt as if it had shrunk, but still she could not stop.
Ron and Harry stared at her like she was mad.
'The library?' Ron asked knowingly after a moment.
Hermione stopped, looking at her empty plate in disgust and she pushed it away from herself.
'Er, yeah, library. Excuse me,' She ran from the hall leaving Harry and Ron shaking their heads in amusement.
Hermione felt disgusted at herself as she walked into the closest girls bathroom and leant against the sink.
I can't believe I just did that! The way I pigged that down, even after I was full!
She felt sick, like she was about to throw up and her stomach felt too full, as though it would burst.
I'm smarter than that aren't I? You should never break a fast with lots of food. The system just can't take it.
She walked slowly over to a stall and knelt beside the toilet trying to steady her breath. She couldn't control the nausea, she just wanted it to stop and barely had time to register what she was doing before she jabbed her fingers down her throat in anger.
She gagged as her eyes began to water, her legs shook and in a rush the contents of her breakfast left her trembling body, burning the back of her throat at the same time.
She didn't move, frozen in shock. She was surprised at how easy it had been, she'd never expected she'd ever be able to make herself purge like that.
She rinsed her mouth in the sink and stared into the mirror, breathing hard.
Oh, my god what did I just do?
What's happening to me?
Why am I becoming obsessed with food?
That was such a waste! I can't do that again. There's no point eating food, and then throwing it up anyway!
I'm not doing that again.
Repulsed by her idiotic episode, Hermione tried to regain her normal eating within the next few days.
She'd eat a muffin; a small bowl of soup, a sandwich but found that she felt guilty afterwards. She felt bloated and impure.
However much she hated to admit it, every time she ate and the pain in her stomach receded, she missed it.
At times she felt clear headed and light, although it became harder to concentrate. Her stomach was flatter, she felt delightfully empty and the pain seemed to be filling a hole inside of her.
Her thoughts seemed to always be on her size, not her numeral weight of course, Hermione Granger was smart enough to know that weight wasn't everything. She trusted what the tape measure told her, what her hands felt and what her eyes saw. Besides, the only scales she knew of in Hogwarts were for measuring potions ingredients.
She wasn't aware of course that what her eyes saw was completely different to what her brain perceived.
Her thoughts were constantly on when she had eaten last and the total sum of food from the last few days.
She often had moments when she wanted to feed herself badly, eyeing off other people's meals during dinner, smelling the delicious scents. She however couldn't indulge in such a pleasure; it was a furious battle between her will and her hunger.
Occasionally she'd have strange slips, not caring for one whole day and eat like a regular person. Eating what she considered a lot for one day, a bowl of rice, a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast. This is more than what most people ate per day surely?
She would regret these days.
She began to write things down in a little black book, she confided in parchment like she always did, writing down every item of food that passed her lips. She found a spell to reveal the energy in the food she ate and after that began to write how many calories these foods contained, every minute of exercise and every shameful binge.
She felt urges to tell Ron and Harry what was happening, ask them things, check with them if her perception really was warped, if what she thought was lots of food really was lots of food or if she really was incredibly fat.
Ask if it was normal to feel so hungry?
But there isn't anything wrong really is there? It's just a phase. It will pass.
One carrot….
One piece of fruit…
One piece of chocolate…
How shameful.
One piece of celery…
One piece of toast…
One hash brown…
One bite of a muffin…
One sausage...
Her mind was obsessed with food, she was becoming addicted to her body's natural painkillers, she was having trouble eating normal amounts now.
She had a disease that she wasn't aware of.
Hermione had developed anorexia...
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