Natalisma Nagoria
What the hell kind of disease is this?
Dinner was harder, when people have seen you skip one meal you have to eat the next. I slip in next to Kitty and she's grazing delicately on a baked potato, Em is stuffing her face with protein rich steak, there's a big Hufflepuff-Gryffindor Quidditch match next week and she's 'stocking up' as she calls it. I tentatively add some lettuce and carrots to my plate.
Em looks at me, stunned.
"WHAT do you think you're doing?"
"Oh, er yeah, I've decided to go on a diet," I blurt, adding a piece of grilled chicken to my plate. That's not more than 500 calories, right?
"But, Vic, you're not fat enough to diet," blurts Lauren across the table.
"I'm trying to be healthy! Not thin!" I say, lies tripping off my tongue. Emma nods, contented, she's all for health. Lauren shakes her head in disbelief, everyone remembers the chocolate frog story.
I cut my chicken into the tiniest piece, after shoving salad in my mouth like I'm ravenous, I take gulps of water with each bite. The chicken is tender and I eat the whole thing. Oh God, I've eaten so much. I'll so full.
I need to get rid of this.
"Coming to the library, Vic?" asks Kitty, as she pushes her plate away.
"Umm, I'll meet you there. I have to see..uh Flitwick," I say,
She frowns at me and I dash off, tripping over my own feet as I go. I hear Emma snort but I keep going. I pray Teddy's eyes aren't on me but I bet they are. My feet carry me to the second floor girls bathroom. Of course it's deserted, Moaning Myrtle can do that to a place. Thank God she's not here now.
I lock myself into a cubicle, and bite down hard on two of my fingers. Can I do this? Can I go further? My fingers are dry, I can taste my own sour skin. You are disgusting, I tell myself, you have to do this, it's your own fault.
It happens, I make myself sick again and again until there's nothing in me but water. My eyes are bulging and red, when I let myself out of the cubicle, eyes streaming with tears, Myrtle is sitting, arms crossed on a sink.
"Ill, are we?" she squeals,
"I have a stomach big," I mumble,
She giggles and flies through me, I shiver violently and proceed to wash my hands.
"You look terrible," she squawks,
"I'm ill, of course I do," I say, angrily,
She zooms off, probably to snog Peeves or something, I scrub myself clean and stare in the grimy, broken mirror. My eyes are rimmed red and puffy, I wash my face clean and look back at the girl in the mirror. I convulse slightly, how I hate the weak girl that stands there.
I do this for the next few days, and it's Saturday-the Quidditch game and everyone is buzzing with excitement for the Quidditch match, Emma and Tom are discussing tactics over breakfast and Teddy is shaking. He's keeper, Lauren is a chaser, my little skinny cousin James is seeker, already. Uncle Harry' and Aunt Ginny have been teaching him and Albus Quidditch their whole lives, they were overly thrilled when James got to be a seeker in only second year. A seventh year Amy Green and a fifth year Danny Ritcher are the other chasers.
Tom's captain, I reckon he's got it under control but he's stressing crazily. Me and Kitty aren't good at things like Quidditch, we're not really sweating at it. I roll my eyes at her as Teddy downs a protein shake. It's only Hufflepuff, how hard can it be to beat them?
"Okay boys, let's go," says Tom, Emma glares at him.
The team troop off, I wink at Tom for luck, he ignores me. He's in 'the zone'. Love that kid.
Out on the ground, the stands are swimming with red and gold, then the yellow of the Hufflepuffs. It's pretty tense as the teams file out. I sit beside Kitty in the Gryffindor crowd and spot a few assorted relatives drifting around.
There's my little sister Dominique who's in fourth year, you can't miss her flaming ginger hair, she's giggling with Roxy, another cousin, not so ginger this time. She looks more like her mum, tanned with dark brown braids. My little brother Louis and cousin Fred are shunted together, looking out in wonder for James, they're in the same year and are like the three musketeers, Louis blond, Fred dark and James with red hair as bright as the sun. They're so sweet together, honestly. There's more cousins to come, Molly, Albus and Rose and coming up next year, then Hugo, Lily and Lucy, who are honestly just little babies at the moment.
Ah the joys of my big family, you'd think I'd have at least one cousin my age but no, I'm the older one. I've always babied the little ones, or been thrown with Teddy, who's older than me and always would tease me senseless. I'd rather mind Lily than hang out with him. I've always loved little kids, I've had plenty of practice and they kind of gravitate towards me, I honestly can't wait to have kids, when I'm older with that perfect husband and successful healer career.
I plan my life waay too much.
Back to the game, Emma's beaten a few bludgers, James is missing and Teddy's saved a goal, still 0-0. Lorcan Scamander is commentating, he's quite boring about it, apparently his mum was funnier, that's what Uncle Ron said anyway.
"And Higgs passes to Jameson, Jameson with the Quaffle, he shoots, Lupin dives but Hufflepuff score! Ten nil to Hufflepuff!"
A resounding cheer from the yellow clad stadium opposite us. Fred groans angrily. I guess Teddy isn't a very good keeper, Tom's tiny figure looks distinctly agitated. I let my eyes glaze over and my stomach rumbles loudly, I hate having no control over it,
"Hungry, Vic?" ask Kitty,
"It's always making weird noises!" I say, cheerily, I hear Dom snort loudly. Bitch.
A few goals later and I'm pretty sure Gryffindor will never win, I hope to hell that James catches the snitch soon, but he's just hanging on his broom formlessly. Emma and Tom look ready to throw their clubs at each other.
"Lupin misses another goal, Hufflepuff storm in the lead, the score stands at 80-30,"
Teddy looks so worried, Tom gave him the position because they were friends. Uncle Harry and Ron gave him some pep talk about Ron's position as keeper, but I guess Teddy isn't actually a good player.
"Oh, what is he doing?" I murmur, "We can't lose to Hufflepuff!"
"Unfortunately, they have a decent keeper," adds Louis, scowling,
"James might catch the Snitch though, we'd win then," says Kitty, hopefully. I frown at her,
"Doubt that!" I say, "Their seeker is Mark Collingham and he's huge!"
"It's not about size though, is it?" she replies,
I look out, Lauren has the Quaffle and is desperately trying to score again, she shoots and succeeds. We all scream ourselves hoarse and I'm kind of deafened by my dumbass cousins.
"Thank God," I say, Fred is doing a happy dance.
"That's my girl!" he cries,
"Fred, you've never met Lo," I say pointedly, he goes red and plonks himself back down.
"What's James doing?" asks Roxy, pointing. James is twirling in the air, Mark hot on his tail. A few gasps ripple through the crowd as little James dances in the air, taunting clumsy Mark.
"Has he seen the snitch?" I say, breathlessly,
"He's just being an idiot," says Dom haughtily,
James flies high into the air, Mark zooms after him, and then takes a sharp bend, flying the length of the pitch, arm upraised, leaving Mark miles above. He is already on the ground, snitch in hand, when I realise what happened.
"Did we, WIN?" I exclaim, jumping to my feet, Fred is doing his infamous victory dance. I grab Kitty and scream,
"Kit, WE WON!"
"I know," she says calmly, "Lunch?"
"Later, we have to go see the others!" I say quickly, and I drag her down to the changing rooms, an ensemble of cousins following.
Louis and Fred jump on James and noogie him cheerfully,
"Phat moves!" says Roxy,
"You dug those funky beatz," adds Dom,
"BALLET BOY" they cry in unison, I don't quite get it, but it sounds rehearsed. Cute.
I grab Tom into a bear hug, he's pretty sweaty. He throws himself on to the bench that lines the changing room wall, I sit primly next to him, it's not very
"WE WON THOMAS!"
He grins at me, but his face falls when he sees Teddy limp in from the showers. His hair has faded to the dullest of browns and is hanging in wet locks. He's tired, looks bedraggled, angry and quietly sad.
"All right Ted?" I ask quietly, but he barely notices me, stalking up to Tom defiantly, and looking down on him,
"I quit," he says loudly and skulks back to the showers. Everyone stares, Lauren's mouth is round with shock and Emma has to actually sit down. Even James is worried, half the changing room look over at Tom expectantly,
"Crap," says Tom. "Guess we need a new keeper,"
"Lunch." says Emma strongly, she grabs Tom's arm and guides him to the door,
The others shrug and follow, I can't go with them. I have to find a way to avoid this.
I stand. I stand but the world has gone and I'm blind, there's a blackness dotted with blinding colours behind my open eyelids and nothing seems real. I stagger forward but I'm swaying, I grasp out for something, someone to tie me to this earth, but I'm floating away.
When did I last eat? Last night, but not properly. It didn't stay in me. I'm hungry, my stomach is screaming at me and realness is swimming beneath the veil of my hunger.
Nausea and faintness run in my brain, there's nothing to hold on to and I'm falling, falling like I'll never stop. But then I do, with a resounding crash and blackness, pure blackness envelops me. A warmth spreads through my head, I'm safe here, on this cold, unforgiving ground.
Then whiteness fills my vision and I'm gone.
When I open my eyes I'm in the hospital wing and Madam McCartney is nowhere to be seen. I haven't got any visitors, I'm all alone in this large, light filled room. I look myself up and down, little has changed, same old chubby thighs, same old Victoire. I wonder how I got here, embarrassing as it is to be found and to be fallen. I wonder when they noticed I wasn't with them, thought 'Where's Vic?' and found me this way.
I despise myself for getting so far and being found out, do they know? It's been so little time, not even a week. How can I be so weak this time? I've made it months before and I wasn't going to give up this time. You fool, I tell myself, you mess.
I'm still silently raging when Madam McCartney glides towards me, she sits beside my bed. I look at her kind, young face and I want to blurt my heart to her. I stiffen myself, grab the reins of control and look up at her, she is the en
"When can I go back to school?" I ask, plaintively.
"After a night, you must be feeling pretty weak. I've got you on no visitors,"
I shrug,
"Had you eaten that day?" her eyes pierce into me, "Do you feel you are eating enough?"
"I eat." I say, "I was too excited for the match, I couldn't stomach breakfast,"
"Right, okay." she pauses for a second. "Victoire, I had to run a few tests on you, to determine the possible cause of your faintness, including the Natalisma Nagoria charm..."
I run the word through my head wildly, Natalisma Nagoria? Natalisma Nagoria, where have I heard that before?
"And the results were positive."
What kind of disease is this? I'm freaking out, I've seen those words before!
"Victoire, you're pregnant."
Oh.
"I'm, I'm pregnant?"
She nods slowly.
"Eight weeks pregnant. I assume this was a, er, surprise, I'll bring you some leaflets on your..options."
She shimmers off and I'm left to mull this over.
I'm pregnant. I have a baby inside me. I have life inside me.
And, and I love it. I love this baby in a heartbeat, a heartbeat that we both share and revel in. I'm scared, I'm petrified but I'm estatic. I'm confused and I'm young and I'm poor and uneducated. I'm not ready, not at all, but I want it. I feel something flutter inside me and I know that the baby wants me too. There's a something, deep down, wrapped in cells, a something that loves me, depends on me. Something that is mine.
Mine and Teddy's. This baby is Teddy's too. He is the father, the only person I've ever slept with. I can't tell him, no I shan't, I can't. Fear erupts in my chest, how can I tell Teddy? Or mum or dad or Dominique or Louis. Or Kitty, Lauren, Emma or Tom.
No, no I can't tell them. What if they want me to get it 'taken care' of? No, I can't, I won't. I'm sweating, my smiling has vanished and I dread telling them. And I'll have to.
Madam McCartney appears once more, leaflets in hand.
"I don't need those." I say pointedly "I'm keeping it,"
She nods, looking pleased, and vanishes them with a flick of her wand.
"Then I'd like you to make a scan appointment, how's a week on Thursday?"
"Fine," I reply.
"And you'll need to take prenatal vitamins, and keep eating healthily."
I nod.
Eating healthily. Surely it's better for the baby if I'm not obese and fat. I can't eat. If I eat I'll get fat and the baby won't be healthy. If I don't eat, the baby won't grow enough. I can't hurt it, but I can't gorge myself. I can't make myself throw up any more, but I can't give up everything I've been working for.
You're allowed supper, I tell myself, and nothing more. 700 calories a day, all for the baby. Madam McCartney has left me with a vitamin potion, a luminous orange mixture that smells strongly of coconut. I down it, it tastes coconutty too. I hope it's not calorific.
This is it then, I think, you're pregnant. I place a hand over my stomach. I love you, baby.