Sarah Evansville usually liked returning home for the Christmas holidays.
This year, she had been rather dreading it since the letter from her mum.
It had arrived in early October, and Sarah hadn't written since, except to both of her parents to confirm that she would be returning to their home in Scotland for the Christmas holidays.
Perhaps giving them both the silent treatment hadn't been the most mature course of action, but her mum's letter had first hurt her, then made her angry. Very angry, in fact. Elizabeth had told her, with a laugh, that she'd never seen her look so like their Transfiguration teacher on a bad day. But she'd quickly ceased joking when she'd seen Sarah's expression, and pulled her into a hug instead.
"Your mum can be a nutter, at times," Elizabeth had reminded her, "but you and your dad always make her see sense in the end."
"She's never spoken this trash before, let alone written it!" Sarah had nearly exploded, glancing down again at the letter.
"I know." Elizabeth's tone had been sympathetic. "I'll write my mum again. Get her to try to talk some sense into yours."
Sarah had snorted at the mental image, but thanked her best friend for the offer.
It had been over two months, and she was still angry. She'd burned her mother's letter, but not before reading it enough that the contents seeped into her brain. Just thinking about it made her...
Well, it was a good thing she couldn't use magic outside of school.
Really, she might have remained at school, except Elizabeth was going home as well, and they did live on the same street, and no other Hufflepuff in their year would be staying.
She'd asked.
"She'll come around," Elizabeth encouraged, as they packed their trunks two days before the dance. "Really. Your mum starts out rather stubborn, but between you and your dad, you always wear her down."
"Not this time, I expect." Sarah glanced at her two corsets. Not really hers, just borrowed. But Morwenna had insisted there was no rush to return them. Not when she had, like Dora, reached below the eighteen inches they closed at. "Should I even bring one home? She might throw it in the rubbish bin."
She turned to Morwenna, who had loaned her both. The pure blood frowned, just a bit.
"Would she really?" she asked, with a sharp intake of breath. At Sarah's shrug, Morwenna considered. "Perhaps you could leave one here. She can't destroy both if one's at school, can she? And if she does with one..." Morwenna squeezed her hand. "My mum will be disappointed for you, Sarah, but she won't be angry. Not at me, either."
"Are you sure?"
"Quite. It's too large for me, now," she reasoned, smiling. "Except, perhaps, for sleeping in."
Sarah nodded, then studied both. They were each lovely, one yellow in background with embroidered flowers throughout, and the other pale blue with the same flowers. And a bit of lace. It was difficult to choose a favorite, so after some deliberation, she placed the blue one aside. It would be safe from any corset-hating mother.
Morwenna and Elizabeth both nodded their approval.
"Will you wear the other on the train?" Elizabeth asked.
Sarah shook her head, managing not to snort. "No, I reckon I don't want to start the holidays on a sour note. You will?"
Elizabeth nodded her head in enthusiasm. "After wearing them for so long, I would miss not wearing one."
Yes. Sarah knew exactly what her best friend meant.
If there was one benefit to not wearing a corset on the train, it meant being able to enjoy the sweets without worrying about eating too much. Not that she gorged herself, but she did eat three chocolate frogs in the first hour. Then, she and her friends dozed off for awhile.
They had stayed up rather late the previous night, reliving the lovely dance.
That, at least, had been everything Sarah could have hoped for, at least for not having a date. She'd treasure the memory for as long as she could.
When the train stopped at the station, Sarah felt a sense of dread that she was more used to experiencing before a Potions lesson or end of term exam that simply going for a visit home. In addition to the dread, she felt the familiar anger. How dare her mother try to ruin her happiness?
At the very least, Elizabeth would be nearby for company. Neither girl had much in the way of extended family, their grandparents all dead, and they had liberal amounts of free time during their holidays. They often used some of the time to make their way through the larger amounts of homework, but they still spent many of hours in each other's houses.
Elizabeth joined the others in giving Sarah a hug, and for the first time, Sarah took notice of the parents who picked up her other roommates at the station as she waited for her own parents to arrive. The Evansville family was not known for their punctuality, and it had long ceased to bother Sarah.
Dora's mother was a beauty, truly a beauty, and her robes emphasized her (Sarah knew) sixteen inch waist. Her dad looked like a regular wizard dad in his robes, but Andromeda Tonks just shone. If Dora became even half as pretty as her mum, she'd be very lucky. And Sarah could see the warmth and grace in her movements, her powerful love in the way she held Dora close for several minutes. She whispered something to Dora, who was positively beaming when they separated.
Demelza's mum and dad looked a bit more...normal...but would still stand out in a room. Her mother looked a few years older than Dora's mum, but still very pretty, with curly dark hair, light freckles, a delicate nose, and (of course) beautiful blue robes that emphasized her small waist.
Morwenna's mother was another beauty. She looked rather like an older, more filled out, smaller in the waist, version of her daughter. With the exception of green eyes instead of blue, they could almost have been sisters. Even their hand gestures they made as they spoke were the same. Sarah felt a pang of envy that the two could be so close. Was this common in pure blood families, with mothers and daughters?
Polly's mother, on the other hand, looked almost nothing like her daughter. Her father had clearly passed on his looks to his daughter, including a rather sturdy size. Her mum was rather darker in coloring than her daughter, with rich dark brown hair, while her husband was blonde through and through. Her waist was minute, perhaps even smaller than Dora's mum. When she gave Polly a hug, her hands stopped around her waist, evidently measuring its size. But she smiled, pleased with the result. Sarah could make out a "Well done, my dear!" before they separated. Although Sarah couldn't see her friend's expression, she was sure it was one of relief.
Becky's mum looked like her daughter...to an extent. Her hair was the same light color as Becky, but straight instead of curly. Her eyes were rich brown, and she stood a good head taller than her daughter. Her frame was a bit broader too, except for her tiny waist. Like the other girls, Becky received a warm reception, although the same nonverbal evaluation (and a smile to indicate she had easily passed) of her waist.
Then, the girls were gone, and it was only Elizabeth, Annie, and herself waiting. Sarah remained nonplussed, but Elizabeth began to fidget.
Annie put a hand around her sister's shoulders, and the other hand around Sarah's.
"I expect it's just traffic. The others don't need to worry about that, you know, but our parents still need to use cars. And it is the Christmas holidays, so more people are traveling," she said, sagely.
It was this sort of tact that made Annie a good Prefect. Elizabeth visibly relaxed, and even laughed in a self deprecating manner.
"I suppose you're right."
And then, suddenly, four familiar bodies made their way through the crowds, smiling but looking rather harried.
"Good Lord, you wouldn't believe the traffic!" Mrs. Tunridge murmured, pulling both daughters into hugs. "I hope you weren't worried."
"Just a bit," Elizabeth admitted. "Annie wasn't."
Mrs. Tunridge hugged Elizabeth again. "I'm sorry, honey. We'll know to leave earlier, next time."
Mr. Tunridge, an average sized man who rather resembled Dora's dad (now that Sarah thought about it...) hugged both girls before taking their trunks.
"Oi! Loaded them up with bricks again, did you?" he teased.
They giggled.
Then, Mrs. Evansville was there, craning her neck until her face formed a smile.
"Ah, there you are!" she said, then drew Sarah into a hug.
She hugged back-she wouldn't snub her mum in public-but let go rather sooner than she would have. She did give her dad a proper hug, taking a moment to savor the scent of his cinnamon aftershave.
"We parked together, so there's no reason to separate," her dad told the others. "Even though you've been together all term, I expect you'll want to spend every moment of the holidays together."
He was teasing, at least a little.
Sarah's mum put an arm around her frame. "I missed you, honey."
Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn't missed her parents, not really, but she supposed this was one of those lies she was expected to tell.
"You too." After a pause, she added, "How's Tim?"
Although christened Timothy, her older brother by three years had never gone by his formal name. Sarah knew that he would also be home for the holidays. If he had been disappointed not to find out he was a wizard, especially after both Elizabeth and Annie were witches, he never held it against Sarah.
"He arrived last night," her dad told her, "and his room is already a mess!"
Sarah laughed. Her brother was a rare species in that his room always looked like a crime scene (without the blood), but he knew where everything was.
"I kept warning him that he would have to keep this things tidy when he went away to school, but he says his roommate is even worse than him." Sarah's mum laughed. "I don't suppose I ever want to see their dormitory!"
"We manage all right, even with the eight of us," Elizabeth offered, glancing briefly at Sarah, "although having house elves certainly helps."
"I've no doubt. I keep telling the girls there aren't elves to put away their clothing or throw away their snacks, and of course, they can't do magic without risking expulsion!" Mrs. Tunridge put in, but even though she sounded exasperated, all of them knew better.
When you only saw your daughters for a few months of the year, Sarah imagined that you were willing to make allowances.
Sarah had always been tidy to a fault, though.
They bid goodbye to Elizabeth and Annie, and then she took a seat in the back of their family car.
Her mum drove, while her dad asked her questions about the past term. Sarah kept her answers short, explaining that she was rather tired, which wasn't entirely untrue. By the time they arrived, it was almost past their dinner time.
"I'll just take my trunk up," Sarah told her parents.
"I'll help, honey," her father offered, taking hold of it.
Her trunk wasn't heavy, thanks to the Feather Light charm she'd performed earlier that day, but it would wear off before the holidays ended. Of course, her dad would help her with it until she was on the train, and she could enchant it again from there.
Why, then, had her dad insisted on helping her? She wouldn't start an argument, though. She simply followed him upstairs.
It didn't take long. The bedrooms were on the second floor of the house, with her parents' bedroom and attached bathroom at the end of one hallway, one guest bedroom in the middle, the bathroom Sarah and her brother shared across from that, and at the end of the hallway, their separate bedrooms.
Sarah's father stood aside to let her enter her bedroom, and then he followed behind her. "Any place in particular you'd like this?"
"By the door is fine. Thanks, Dad."
He carefully placed the trunk on the floor, then stood and reached his arms out. Sarah immediately stepped into them, feeling her dad's protective and loving arms around her. She breathed in deeply.
She might be angry at her mum, but as far as she knew, her father hadn't acted like a deranged prat. She could give him the benefit of the doubt, at least until he proved otherwise.
Sarah let go after several seconds, and felt her father squeeze her shoulders, briefly, before letting go.
"I know you're not happy with your mum, love," he murmured.
Sarah bit back a snort and an eye roll. "What did she tell you?"
Mr. Evansville ran a hand over his rather balding hair. "Well, I saw the owl you sent, and her reaction was much what she wrote to you. Sarah, I'm sorry. I thought she was just getting her feelings out, that she'd calm down in a day or so. But when she told me that she'd actually sent it, happy as a cat with a bird in his mouth... I wanted to shake her. Did a fair bit of yelling."
"You did?"
She couldn't imagine it. Her father was extremely mild mannered. He sold insurance for a living, and she reckoned he had to be very good with dealing with difficult people. Occasionally, he'd have a cup of tea before dinner, meaning he'd had a rough day, but he never took it out on his children.
"I might have said something to the effect that she could have used one around her hands, to prevent her from sending that damn letter," he admitted.
She giggled. Her father also never swore.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Your mum is rash, you know. Doesn't always think before she speaks. Or, in this case, writes. I half expected not to see you during the holidays. She was very relieved when you wrote, love. Give her a chance to...to make amends. All right?"
Sarah nodded. "If she goes first."
"Agreed." He reached out his hands again, and Sarah eagerly accepted his hug. Then, after gently and playfully tugging at her hair, he left the room. "We'll call when dinner is ready."
Feeling a bit more lighthearted, Sarah now glanced around her room. It was the same as always, of course. The cheerful blue walls seemed to greet her, trimmed with lines of flowered blue wallpaper at the top. Her bed, covered with her favorite light blue blanket, sat in the corner, with one side pressed against the set of windows. She saw that her favorite childhood teddy bear sat on her bed, and smiled slightly. She hadn't wanted to take stuffed animals or dolls to school this year, because thirteen (barely) was too old for that. All the same, Sarah would sleep curled up next to Mandy (all stuffed animals needed to have proper names, after all) while at home. Next to the bed sat her oak wood bedside table and a small light green lamp. Across the room, her wood desk and chair where she'd spent so much time doing homework and studying before her admittance to Hogwarts. The closet containing her old clothes, spare blankets, and childhood toys stood on the opposite side of her bed. Then, along the wall beside the desk was a full-length mirror. A bookshelf filled with her favorite books took up a good side of the wall along her closet.
She took a deep breath. Her room felt so ordinary, so very much the same. It hadn't changed one bit since she'd first gone away to school. In one sense, it was comforting. In another, it reminded Sarah of just how much had changed since she'd barely turned eleven and left home.
"Hey, Sarah," her brother called from her doorway.
She put down the book. "Hey yourself. How was your term?"
Tim shrugged. "The usual. Mike says hi, by the way."
Mike Martin, Tim's roommate for the past two and a half years, had never actually met Sarah. As far as he knew, she was attending a girls' boarding school. But he always sent his greetings, and she always returned them.
Just as she did now.
"Tell him hello from me."
"So, how was your term? Hogsmeade everything you hoped for?" he asked, stepping tentatively into her room.
Sarah nodded her approval, and he took his standard seat on the chair by her desk, and she sat down on her bed.
"Even better, really!" She grinned. "Some of the older students didn't go. Had enough from previous years, perhaps. But we didn't even get to visit half of the shops! I hope we get to go more than twice in the spring term."
"Why can't you?" he wondered.
She shrugged. "Dunno if it's about needing to make sure the carriages aren't needed elsewhere, or it's a regulation of the village. Unless you live there, you can't even visit until your third year. Well, maybe if your parents take you, or you're visiting friends." She shrugged again. "I don't think I will ever grow tired of it."
"Did you-?"
"Yes," Sarah interrupted, with a laugh. "I brought you back a large bag of those dreadful beans. Hold on."
She went into her trunk, and removed the large bag from the top.
"You're mad, you know," she informed him, but handed them over.
"Thanks. How much was it?" Tim asked, breaking out into a big grin.
"Ten sickles."
He made a face. "How about I just give you a fiver?"
"That's too much! A galleon is only about five pounds," she protested, "and there are seventeen sickles in a galleon."
He rolled his eyes. "Your largest unit of currency is five muggle pounds?"
"Yes," she answered, with a grin.
"Well, Mum and Dad would be millionaires if they converted their savings to wizarding money. Anyway, it's easier if I just give you a fiver. Consider it your convenience and travel charge." He grinned. "I'll bring it over after dinner."
"All right," Sarah conceded, with a laugh.
"Sarah, Tim, it's time for dinner!" their mum called.
"Cool, I'm starving." Tim grinned.
Dinner consisted of all of their favorite foods, as well as large helpings of ice cream for dessert. Sarah was used to smaller portions by now, but her lunch had only been a scattering of sweets, so she managed to clean her plate and a large serving of ice cream. Perhaps her parents were watching her more than usual, but if they were, their smiles seemed to be proof of their relief that Sarah hadn't been "starving herself to fit into a long outdated, not to mention highly dangerous undergarment."
She hadn't exactly memorized her mum's letter, but certain parts remained in her head.
Not unlike when her professors criticized her work. It didn't happen often, but enough to rankle her for a week.
Thanks to their dishwasher, all Sarah and Tim and their father had to do was bring their plates to the sink. Then, they excused themselves, and Sarah said that she was going to go to bed early.
"Already? It's barely 8:00," her mum laughed.
She shrugged. "It will be 8:30 by the time I shower and brush my teeth and put on my nightgown, and besides, I'm really tired."
"No sense in staying up just to stay up," her father intervened. "Always a practical one, you were."
Was there another meaning to this? Perhaps, but it was likely wishful thinking. After another round of hugs, Sarah went upstairs and prepared for bed.
She was very tired.
There wasn't a great difference between bathrooms in the wizarding world and the muggle one, or not for regular students. Annie said that the one for Prefects was positively lovely, only Moaning Myrtle liked to come by when there were good-looking boys.
Ghost or not, the idea made Sarah shudder.
Once ready for bed, though, she found herself unable to sleep. Both exhausted and fully awake, she stared up at the ceiling, wishing she was back at school.
Finally, Sarah turned on the light to her bedside table, and opened her trunk. If she couldn't sleep, she could begin reading the next five assigned chapters for her "Care of Magical Creatures" lesson.
She had other assignments to complete, but this one would be the easiest for her to concentrate on.
After finishing the first one, Sarah felt the need to use the loo again, so she placed the book faced down on her bed. The door to the one she and her brother shared was open, and the light was on, so she carefully closed and locked the door before answering "nature's call," as her dad put it.
Several moments later, she was back in her room, and just as Sarah opened the book, there was a knock on the door.
She sighed. If the light was off, she could have pretended to be sleeping. Still could, but it would be more difficult with her mum or dad seeing the light on, and a good view of her frame.
"Come in," she called, and the door opened.
It was her mum, clad in her dressing gown. The hem of her nightgown peaked out from underneath.
Sarah managed not to sigh.
"I saw your light was on, honey, and I knew you were tired earlier. I just wanted to make sure that everything was all right," her mum explained, her voice soft.
"I couldn't sleep, so I reckoned I ought to start on homework. There's more this year, with my extra lessons," Sarah explained. Remembering her father's words, she continued, holding up her book as she spoke. "This is for Care of Magical Creatures."
Her mum took a seat on the edge of the bed, and laughed. "Magical creatures? Will you be studying dragons next term?"
"I don't reckon we'll study those before my NEWTs, if then," Sarah said, but she was smiling.
"NEWTs?"
"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test."
Her mum blinked. "That's the name the students give?"
"No, it's what they're called." Sarah hid a grin at her mother's startled reaction. "Honest."
"Well. That's...hardly reassuring," she said, rolling her eyes. "Are you concerned?"
"It's a ways off. I have to pass my OWLs, and I take those at the end of my fifth year. If I score well enough in those lessons, I can continue on," Sarah explained. "I don't know exactly what will happen if I don't."
Her mum gestured to the space next to Sarah, and after a brief hesitation, she nodded. Sarah watched as her mother's dark blue dressing gown disappeared under the covers along with her. Sarah stood still as her mother reached over with one hand and began to stroke her hair. She was still angry...but it did feel rather nice.
"I wouldn't worry, love. Your marks have always been good, at the very least." Mrs. Evansville continued to card Sarah's hair. "Better than your brother's, if I must be honest."
"And his marks now matter more."
The words were out before she could hold them back.
Fortunately, her mum just laughed. "He can't do charms, or turn one animal into another, or brew potions. All of which are rather indispensable skills to have in your world, Sarah."
This was true, and Sarah nodded.
She remained upright, not leaning into her mother, as she would have just a few months ago.
"It isn't easy, having you both away for so many months. Oh, I suppose I had known you would both go away to school, but when we learned that you were a witch, it was a shock." She wrapped one arm around Sarah's frame, and continued to card her hair with the other. "I'm proud of you, and it certainly helps to be able to talk to Amanda." That was Mrs. Tunridge to Sarah. "I don't know how I would have managed without her. Annie had been away at school for a few years, and by the time Professor McGonagall came to speak to Elizabeth and you, I rather felt that she could assuage my worries more than your deputy headmistress."
Sarah remembered the day all too well. Elizabeth had known about her sister being a witch, only the Secrecy code prevented her from telling Sarah. When Professor McGonagall came to speak to Annie, she told Elizabeth and her parents that their youngest daughter was a witch as well, and had been doing bouts of uncontrolled magic since she was five.
"I remember," Sarah murmured.
Her mum held her a bit closer, and Sarah didn't resist.
"You live in another world most of the world, and I don't suppose you will return even after you finish school," her mum sighed.
"I'm not going to leave home as soon as I finish school!" Sarah protested.
"Well, it feels like I am losing you," her mother sighed. Then, she turned so she was looking at Sarah. "I know you're angry at us. At me."
Sarah shrugged, not willing to lie or tell the truth.
"I was...very concerned when I read your letter, and it showed when I wrote because..." Her mum sighed again. "I know, I know. I ought to have waited before responding. Your father told me as much. And then, I spoke to Amanda... I'm sure you know that she took the news much better, even said that given how traditional the wizarding world was, she was rather surprised that corsets weren't required," she continued.
"We asked, when we saw the other girls wearing them. I reckon they were as afraid of being ostracized by us as we were of them," Sarah began. "They said they weren't, of course, and for the first week, they wore their corsets and we wore our bras."
"I see." Her mother nodded a bit, as though reassuring herself of something. "What changed after a week?"
Sarah smiled at the memory. "We-Elizabeth and I-saw how comfortable our roommates looked. How happy. They enjoy wearing them, and they don't find them restrictive. You should have seen Dora in Professor Snape's Potion lesson. I don't think many people in our house despise him more than she does, but she was almost happy. He even almost complimented her work! After-after some talk, just between Elizabeth and I, we decided that trying one on wouldn't kill us outright."
She paused, waiting for her mum to react. Her mum held her a bit tighter, still watching her, and nodded, evidently interested.
"So...we did. They were all very eager, and wanted to make sure that they selected corsets that were the best fit for us. They all had been measured for one, and had ones crafted that allowed them to bring in their waists, but work with their bodies. Some had larger hips and breasts, and not everyone's frame was the same size. I later learned that corsets are supposed to work with the body, not force it to assume a uniform shape...does that make sense at all?" Sarah stammered.
"It does, honey, and I am rather relieved to hear this. So, please, go on," she coaxed.
"After they measured us and made the necessary comparisons, they narrowed down their collection to a few that they thought would fit us the best. Turns out I am quite small in the waist, only twenty-two inches, so even though a girl starting out only laces down two inches, they started with one for me. Then, after I was truly at ease and after I asked, an extra half." Sarah paused again.
"You said you enjoyed it," Mrs. Evansville recalled.
"Yes. I loved it." Sarah felt herself smile as she recalled her first experience of being laced in.
She let herself relive the memory then, of how Demelza, who had volunteered to lace her up that first time, had been so careful, so gentle, with her. Her half blood roommate had pulled at the laces gently, slowly. Sarah had felt the corset first hang around her frame loosely before tightening gradually, pulling in her waist bit by bit. She'd felt little at first, then a small amount of pressure, and finally, the hug that her friends had told her and Elizabeth about.
Demelza had taken her in less than two inches on the first day, and the secure hug had felt so lovely that Sarah hadn't wanted to unlace to eat.
"Mum, it felt so nice, like I was being held in a warm hug. It wasn't at all uncomfortable. I didn't feel restricted-I mean," she added, striving for accuracy, "I certainly sat and stood up straighter, but it didn't poke or hurt. And I could breathe easily, including deep breaths. Elizabeth, too. We didn't want to take them off when it was time for lunch, but our roommates insisted on it, because we were so new to wearing corsets. We wanted to laced up again, afterwards, and it was just as nice wearing them as before."
"You did say in your letter that you found it comfortable," her mum recalled, slowly.
"And you didn't believe me?"
Sarah tried to keep the edge from her voice.
"Well, I suppose I found it difficult to believe." Her mother began to run a hand over her back. In spite of herself, Sarah found herself leaning into it. "Did you continue to...to enjoy it?"
Sarah had decided that she wouldn't lie about this, but the temptation was there.
"We both did. Every day, in small amounts of time, until we made it to full days." Sarah paused as her mum continued to run her hand along her back, now making small circles. "Most of my roommates wore them at night as well, but not Elizabeth and Hannah and I."
"Hannah is what you call a pure blood?"
"No, she's half blood. Her mum and her mum's family are all magic. Her dad's a muggle." Sarah hesitated, just for a few seconds, then added, "He's actually a muggle doctor."
"Really! Do you know what kind?"
"A heart doctor. Cardiologist," Sarah recalled.
"And he allows his daughter to wear corsets?" Mrs. Evansville asked, evidently surprised.
Perhaps even amazed.
"Yes. Well, during the day," Sarah added, not wanting to lie. "He wants her to wait until she turns fifteen before wearing them at night, because he's afraid it might have an ill effect on her height. But she began to wear them over the summer, to train her waist, just like the rest of my roommates," Sarah concluded, trying to keep the edge from her voice at the end.
"Hmm." Her mother said nothing else for a few moments, just continuing to make the small circles along Sarah's back. "Have you still been wearing one? You said that your roommates loaned you theirs?"
"Yes, we both have. Only during the day, though," Sarah added.
"Did you bring one home?"
"I...did," Sarah admitted.
"Hmm." Her mother stopped making small circles, but then continued, switching to her other hand. "Can you put it on by yourself?"
"Yes. They made sure that we learned, so we could lace just as far as we fancied," Sarah answered.
"All right." Sarah could hear the relief in her mother's voice. "Tomorrow, I would like to see you in yours. Then, we can decide what to do next."
"To do next?" Sarah echoed, almost tremulously.
"I'd prefer you wait, you know. You're still thirteen, and if you would just wait until you're of age...but I can't enforce such a rule when you're away from home, I realize that." Mrs. Evansville considered. "I suppose that if you're going to wear one, and I know that you're determined to wear one when you're at school, it will be best to wear a corset made to fit your body. I expect that the ones you and Elizabeth are wearing was made to fit your roommates, and while you find it comfortable, it would be more so if you had one fit to your measurements. Is this correct?"
Sarah's heart soared, but she forced herself to remain calm. Her mother hadn't actually promised anything. Not yet.
"Yes," she answered, tentatively.
"If I deem it safe, of course. I don't want to see you struggling not to faint, or starving yourself," Mrs. Evansville added, quickly. "But you don't look as though you're starving," she amended. "So, let's see how you look tomorrow. A day of...keeping an eye on things, and then, if all goes well, we might stop at this corsetiere-" She drew in her breath as though it was a swear word. "-Besides, then I can speak to her in person."
Sarah thought this seemed fair. Besides, her mother would see that she wasn't suffering from wearing a corset.
Far from it.
"Thank you," Sarah murmured.
Her mother laughed. "You're welcome. Now, perhaps, a foot rub might help you fall asleep?"
"Yes, please!"
Her mother, chuckling a bit, changed positions so she was sitting at the middle of the bed, and removed one foot from under the covers. Sarah felt herself truly relax for the first time since returning home.
Sarah slept in the next day, rising after the clock on her bedside table read 9:00. It was hardly sleeping until noon (which Tim often did, at least on the first day or so of his holidays), but she had rather hoped to be up earlier.
Well, the previous day had felt extremely long.
Still, she felt very relaxed, which likely had as much to do with her mum's foot massage as their conversation.
Her mother had changed her mind. Nearly. As long as Sarah demonstrated her comfort laced to eighteen and a half inches in her corset-and she had managed that dancing half the evening and into the night!-and eat reasonably sized meals.
Rising, Sarah put on her dressing gown before heading into the bathroom to brush her teeth (and hair) before breakfast.
It being a Saturday, her parents were in their dressing gowns over their sleeping attire. Her brother, of course, was absent from the table.
"Good morning, honey!" Sarah's dad said, upon seeing her. He stood and immediately gave her a hug, which she happily returned.
"Morning, sweetie," her mum greeted, after her dad had let go, reaching out for a hug-and receiving one.
"I was just starting breakfast, as we all decided to have a lie in," she explained. "How does bacon and eggs sound?"
"Sounds great!" Sarah answered, enthusiastically.
Neither foods gave her any trouble. Elizabeth was having to slowly introduce eggs back into her diet, but the Tunridge family didn't eat them much to begin with, so she only had them at school with any regularity.
So far, no food had given Sarah any trouble.
When the food was ready, she helped herself to a reasonable amount. More than enough to keep her from becoming hungry before lunch, but not so much that she would feel stuffed before even lacing up. Neither parent gave her wary looks or said anything, so Sarah reckoned she'd taken enough.
It tasted good, too, and it was no trouble to eat slowly. While she ate, her mother and father discussed their plans for the day.
"Lots of housework to do!" Mrs. Evansville said, with a light sigh. "I missed out on mopping and vacuuming yesterday, so I have that to do before getting started on the laundry. What I wouldn't give for one of those house elves at that school of yours, Sarah!"
Sarah laughed. "Sorry, Mum, but I don't suppose they're on loan when we're on holiday."
"That's a pity! I expect the muggle way must seem painfully long, after being at a magical school," her dad mused.
"Well," Sarah mused, "it rather depends. That is, we don't have appliances that clean at Hogwarts. No vacuums or washers or dryers."
"Nor do you have TVs, as I understand," he added, with a wink. "How do you manage?"
She giggled. "Elizabeth and I aren't the only ones with them at home. Hannah and Dora do, and they're half bloods."
"Muggle father or mother? That's what a half blood is?"
Sarah ate the last piece of bacon. "Yes and no. Dora's mum's family is magical as far back as you can go. But her dad is the first wizard in his family. Hannah's mum is the same way, magic very far back, but her dad is a muggle doctor."
"A muggle doctor? How did they meet?"
"His sister was a witch, and one of her friends. They visited during holidays."
"Well. That sorts things out. Then, if anything in your family isn't magical several generations back, you're a half blood?" he pressed.
"I think so."
"Well," her father said, again, "I expect that were was a first witch and wizard, and they certainly weren't Adam and Eve!"
"Probably not!" Sarah said, with a laugh. Glancing at her empty plate, she asked, "May I be excused?"
"Of course. You are, er, going to dress, now?" her mum asked.
If Mr. Evansville thought it was a strange question, his face didn't register it. Perhaps, her mum had talked to him about their talk after she had fallen asleep.
"Yes."
"I'll be up with a basket of clean towels in a few minutes."
"All right."
Once upstairs, clad only in her chemise, Sarah realized she had a small problem. Everyone, herself included, had charmed their wand to serve as a measuring tape. Of course, she could hardly do so at home, and she had never needed a measuring tape before. Her mum had one in a sewing basket, usually, but Sarah didn't know where she kept it.
She chewed her lip. She could manage without one, but how could she prove that she could handle a nineteen inch waist-or anything below her current twenty-one and a half-without proof?
Best to bite the bullet. As soon as she heard her mum in the hallway, she bounded from her room and slowed a yard or so from her mother.
At least she didn't drop her laundry basket.
"Goodness, honey, what's the rush?"
Sarah felt her face redden. "Oh, sorry. I just, er, need to borrow your tape measurer."
"Of course, follow me."
Sarah followed her mother into the largest bedroom in the house, then into her closet. On top of a pile of shirts was the sewing basket, with the tape measurer on top.
Her mum (rather unnecessarily...) pointed to it, and Sarah mumbled a "thank you" before doing just that.
Back in her room, Sarah carefully removed her borrowed corset from the bottom of her trunk. Thanks to the charms she'd applied, it wasn't wrinkled or otherwise worse for wear from being there. She held it for a few moments, happy just to have it in her hands. Then, she undid the clasps and loosened it before putting it around her frame.
Thanks to her mum having had the foresight to have a full length mirror glued to one of the walls some years ago, Sarah had no need to leave her room for the bathroom to see what she was doing. By now, it was mostly muscle memory, but just as with the tape measurer, she liked having the security of being able to be sure. Just as she was about to begin, Sarah heard a knock at her door.
"Who is it?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
"It's your mum. May I come in?"
Hiding her frustration, Sarah returned the corset to the top of her trunk, then opened her door.
Her mother, to her credit, looked rather embarrassed.
"I was wondering...it occurred to me that you might need help?" she asked, faltering.
Sarah's annoyance evaporated. Her mum really was trying to understand, especially if she wanted to help.
"It's all right, Mum. My roommates taught me and Elizabeth to how manage on our own on the second day. Said that having the ability to self lace means you don't need to be worried about someone lacing you too tightly," she explained. "I can manage without help."
Her mother looked reassured, but didn't leave the doorway. "Do you mind if I watch?"
Sarah didn't hesitate. Yes, it would feel a bit odd with her mum watching, but she would also witness Sarah lacing herself and having no difficulty. Not gasping for breath, either.
"Sure," she answered, easily.
So her mother entered her room, thankfully closing the door behind her, and Sarah retrieved the corset. Of course, her mother wanted to hold it, so after extracting a promise from her mother that she wouldn't throw it away, Sarah handed the corset over.
Her mother handled it carefully, turning it over in her hands. She ran her fingers over the embroidered areas, an appreciative smile on her face. No doubt, she could see the good workmanship, the care and time it had taken Madam Barnatte to create such a work of talent and beauty.
Finally, to Sarah's relief, her mum handed it back.
"It doesn't look nearly as formidable as I feared, and it is quite lovely," she allowed. "But why are there clasps in the front as well as laces in the back? Are they decorative?"
Sarah, now holding the corset, began to fasten it around her waist. "I believe it's easier to put on and take off this way. The clasps don't replace the laces, but they allow for the release of slack. Also, it keeps it from tangling up, and making you put it on like a jumper."
Sarah's mother peered again at the corset, now securely fastened-but not tightened-to her daughter's body. "Yes, I can see how it would be more difficult if it was only fastened by the laces. Less comfortable too, perhaps."
"Well, I only ever wore one like this, but probably," Sarah allowed. "All right, now I'll tighten it up a bit."
Her mum made the symbol of zipping her lips and locking the key, then smiled. Sarah returned her smile, and then went to work, turning on her side to the mirror as she went.
She pulled the ribbons in around her waist until the corset went from slack to a light pressure, to warm, firm pressure around her waist. When she reached the peak of her comfort level, she pulled them into a bow, and then measured her waist. Eighteen and three quarters, a quarter inch larger than what she had laced to for the dance, but she had gone a day without lacing at all. It was far easier to lose ground than to gain it.
Sarah smiled as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Not simply because she knew how small she was, but because she felt so, so very comfortable. The secure hug she'd missed the previous day was back. Once again, she felt held and supported. And warm, very warm. Her smile widened.
Now, Sarah carefully secured the laces, then showed herself to her mother.
"Goodness, you're small!" Mrs. Evansville murmured. "Why, you must already be under eighteen inches. Can you breathe?"
Sarah easily took a deep breath, smiling as her breasts went up a bit, and her frame pushed slightly against her corset. Not preventing her from breathing deeply, simply letting her know it was there. It may have only been a day without it, but, oh, Sarah had missed her corset.
"Yes. That is, I can breathe easily," Sarah specified. "And I am at eighteen and three quarters inches, but before I began, I was twenty-two. So, it's not so very much of a reduction. About half of the girls in my year are at eighteen and below, and they started out with larger waists."
Her mother nodded, watching Sarah as she spoke, clearly looking for signs of discomfort.
But she wouldn't find any. Sarah was entirely at ease. Oh, she might not be able to run a mile as quickly, but talking? That was as easy as it had been before.
"How does it feel?" Mrs. Evansville asked, walking closer, studying her carefully. "What do you enjoy about wearing it?"
"Mostly like I am wrapped in a good hug," Sarah began. "It keeps me warm, too. And, well, since I stand straight when I wear it, I rather feel more confident." She shrugged. "It's very comfortable, Mum. I wouldn't wear one if it didn't feel comfortable, no matter how nice it made me look."
Her mother nodded. "I can see that you're comfortable. Yes. And, well, honey, you do look more confident. You're standing taller, which I imagine is the corset's doing, but your shoulders are back and your head is higher. I haven't seen you that way in ages, really."
It was Sarah's turn to nod, even if the remark stung, just a bit. She imagined she'd begun to feel shy, as well as quiet, when she'd started at Hogwarts. Even though her grades were high, there was still so much she didn't know. There weren't a great many muggle borns in her school, certainly only Elizabeth in her dormitory, and it could be isolating.
But now? This rather bonded her with the other girls. Made her feel more comfortable, more confident. It was easier, with the support of a daylong hug.
"I feel it, too," she answered, simply.
Her mum nodded, then smiled.
After a pause, Sarah began to dress in her robes. Not her school uniform ones, nor her newer dress ones, but ordinary ones that were the same cut of her uniform, just with different colors. Today, they were navy.
Between her and Elizabeth's preference for garb in the wizarding world, and the understanding that spending money for a growing daughter who wore muggle clothes only a small amount of the year, both girls had asked their Head of House to perform a glamour charm on their robes. This meant that muggles saw what they wanted (when they attended church with their parents, the robes looked like tasteful dresses, when there was no need to dress up, they looked like pants or shorts, depending on the weather and time of year). Her family saw both the glamour charmed outfits, black if they looked more closely, they saw the real robes.
It was an ideal solution for everyone.
"I won't deny that you look lovely," Mrs. Evansville told her, once Sarah was fully dressed, "and you look at ease, far more so than I would have expected for your being so small. I do want to keep an eye on you for a day before we go any further, though. And if we do, I will have lots of questions for this corsetiere."
Sarah nodded. "I expect she gets asked a lot of questions. Madam Barnatte says she's crafted custom corsets for muggle borns and even muggles."
"Muggles? Really?"
"Yes. She said that after a muggle marries a wizard, she will usually adopt our style of dress."
"Ah."
Sarah collected her books for her holiday assignments, and then the two headed downstairs, each to do their own work.
For the most part, Sarah's mother let her be, although she did notice her mother coming into the kitchen from time to time and giving Sarah a careful glance. Around the middle of the afternoon, after a lunch that Sarah ate slowly but without difficulty, her mum realized she needed to make a grocery store run.
"Could I invite Elizabeth over?" she asked, knowing that her mother likely wouldn't allow her to visit her friend today.
"You may," she agreed, grabbing her purse and keys. "And she's welcome to stay for dinner, too."
"Thanks. I'll let her know."
As soon as her mother left and her father and brother were out of range, Sarah picked up the cordless phone and took it into her room. She dialed Elizabeth's number, hoping her best friend would pick up.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Mrs. Tunridge. May I please speak with Elizabeth?"
"Of course, Sarah. Just a moment!"
A few moments later, Elizabeth picked up.
"Hello? Sarah?"
"Hi, Elizabeth. Can you come over?"
"I'll ask..."
"Mum says you can stay for dinner if you like."
"I'll...ask," Elizabeth repeated, sounding a bit confused.
Her friend covered the phone, based on the muffled noises, and then her voice was normal.
"I can come over and stay for dinner, but Mum either wants me to call when I'm ready to come home, or ask your parents to drive me," she answered. "See you in a bit?"
"Sure! Thanks, Elizabeth," Sarah answered, feeling a smile return to her face.
"No problem, see you soon!"
They hung up, and after several minutes of Sarah trying to study, the doorbell finally rang.
"It's for me!" she called.
"Okay!" came the voices of her dad and older brother.
After briefly checking the peephole, Sarah opened the door. A smiling but slightly confused Elizabeth was standing outside, wearing her cloak that hung-or so Sarah assumed-over a pair of robes.
"Hi! Come on in!" she greeted.
Elizabeth obliged, stomping her shoes on the welcome mat inside and putting her cloak in the hall closet before following Sarah into her bedroom.
"How are things going? I see you're laced up again," Elizabeth asked her.
"Better than I had expected," Sarah agreed, as they took seats on her bed. They leaned against the wall as they spoke.
"How so?"
"My mum feels bad about what she said in her last letter. Likely didn't hurt that I hadn't written since," Sarah added, with a rather bitter smile. "You know I didn't want to, but..."
Elizabeth put a hand on top of hers. "I could see how hurt you were, Sarah."
She swallowed. "Yes. Well. We had a talk last night, and it was a good one. She agreed to let me lace up today, keep an eye on how I was managing, and then, perhaps, we could go to Madam's tomorrow and get me fitted. Not that I expect she'll agree to spring for night corsets, but day ones would be great. She's out shopping, now, and says you can stay for dinner. I reckon she wants to gauge how you're managing, too." Sarah looked at her friend. "How are you?"
Her friend smiled. "That is great news, Sarah! You're right, it's a decent start. And perhaps if things go well, then sleeping corsets will be the next thing she agrees to. As for me, well, you know Mum already said yes to daytime ones, but wants me to wait until next year before I sleep in them. She also wants to speak with Hannah's father, as he's a muggle and a heart doctor. So I sent Hannah an owl last night."
"Perhaps my mum would like to do that as well," Sarah mused. "I expect that she wouldn't entirely trust a corsetiere or even a Healer, but you can't get more knowledgeable than a muggle doctor."
"And Hannah wears a corset, just like us," Elizabeth reminded her. "Her dad doesn't let her train at night, but that's only temporary. Perhaps, all of our parents will have us wait until our fourth year. That wouldn't be so bad. Besides," Elizabeth added, "you're already practically at eighteen!"
"Eighteen and three quarters this morning." Sarah sighed. "didn't lace at all yesterday, you know, and rather lost ground."
"Maybe, but it could be anything," Elizabeth reassured her. "Water or something you didn't pass, a bit too much salt, nearing that time of the month..."
Sarah considered. "I am close to that time."
"There you go!" Elizabeth enthused. "Anyway, my point is you're already smaller than half of us, myself included, simply because you started out so small!"
"I suppose. It's not just about getting small. I love the feel, and it's like what Dora and Morwenna say... I want to wake up already in the hug," she admitted.
"One thing at a time. Especially with your mum," Elizabeth advised. "Anyway, I reckon that whatever either of our mothers decide, the other will go along with."
This was probably true.
Elizabeth did stay for dinner, and Sarah's mother could see that not only was her daughter managing fine, so was her best friend. The only problem, if one could call it that, was it quickly became late and Sarah's mum insisted that she spend the night. So, after a quick phone call to ask for (and easily receive) permission, Elizabeth and Sarah exchanged their robes for nightgowns (Elizabeth borrowed one of Sarah's, which was a bit shorter than it had been on her, but still only a few inches above the ankle), and enjoyed some hot chocolate and biscuits before bed.
The next day, when Elizabeth's mum came to pick her up, Mrs. Evansville told her about her plans, and Elizabeth and Sarah were soon joining them. They took the Underground, of course, and Elizabeth performed the necessary tapping of her wand to go from muggle London to Diagon Alley.
Neither girl could keep from grinning upon arriving at Madam Barnatte's, accompanied by their mothers, this time.
"Now, I won't deny I am still a bit concerned about this whole waist training process," Mrs. Evansville told the smaller witch, "but my daughter is very determined, and all of her friends are training as well. Besides," she added, with a put upon sigh, "even if I were do inclined to dispose of her borrowed corset, she would likely borrow another, and I see the reasoning of wearing something that fits properly. So, we are here for her to be measured properly, but only for day ones, for the time being."
If Madam Barnatte had trouble believing that this speech came from the mother of quiet Sarah, she kept her surprise hidden.
"I understand entirely, ma'am!" she answered, both deferentially and emphatically. "Like you, I wish no discomfort upon your daughter. I believe that all of my clients, regardless of age, should wear corsets with comfort and safety. Gone are the times of severe tight lacing for the conquest of a twelve inch waist."
"Twelve inches!" both mothers echoed, sounding shocked.
"Indeed, but those dark days are long gone, and for the better!" Madam returned. "May I ask if you have any questions?"
They did. Many, in fact. They wished to know her waist size, the average waist size, any health issues a girl their daughter's age might face, the need for wearing corsets at night, if she had daughters, if she would have her daughters train their waists...
"I am twenty-seven, and the mother of five so far. Three girls, two boys. My oldest girl, Matilda, is six. Seven in the spring. She knows, as does her five year old sister Althea, a bit about my profession. Simply put, that I sell corsets for teenagers and older, and they are meant to make you look and feel pretty. After she turns eleven, she will begin to assist me in the shop in very small ways. When she turns thirteen, or when she begins to change, I will fit her for her first corset. She will be laced comfortably at all times, never to the point of discomfort, and always progressing to a smaller size."
"How far," Mrs. Tunridge asked, "do you plan to have her train down her waist?"
"As far as she likes, with the understanding that a waist above eighteen inches past the age of seventeen is not well looked upon. That may change, though, as at one point, anything above fourteen inches was considered stout. Of course, individual body types must be taken into account. Some manage eighteen with ease during their first year. Others cannot get below twenty without fainting. And I would never intentionally lace a client to fainting, much less my daughters," Madam added, with even more emphasis.
"My grandmother," Mrs. Evansville began, "a muggle, recollected having to wear what she interchanged between calling a 'correction corset' and a 'punishment corset' on various occasions. Do you sell those?"
Sarah privately thought this was irrelevant, but likely a trick question.
Madam sighed. "They were widespread for quite some time. When mothers began to train their daughters, they often used harsh methods, and harsher ones of punishment. My grandmother and mother did sell them, although my mother with some reluctance. They fell into disuse within the last forty years, and were banned outright twenty-five years ago. A corsetiere caught selling one can go to our wizard prison for twice as many years as the corset would measure laced close. A parent caught using it on their daughter would receive a lesser, but still severe, prison sentence. To my knowledge, no one uses them, as mothers and guardians understand a growing girl should never be laced to extremity."
The mothers might have preferred an outright denial, but at least her response was honest and thoroughly discounting this method of waist training. Dora had said her mother's mother had refused even to purchase them, but her own mother had used them on her more than once.
It seemed awful, almost a misuse of a corset's purpose, to craft something intended to cause the wearer extreme pain.
After some time, the mothers were satisfied, and allowed Madam to take the girls into a private area and measure them once again. Madam herself insisted upon this. While it had only been two and a half months since their last visit, their waists had shrunk, and if there was any chance their bodily measurements had also changed, she must account for this.
Madam had previously told Sarah that Morwenna's corsets, who she had been borrowing, were a reasonably good fit, but only for the time being.
"Your hips are smaller than hers, by two inches, and you haven't yet developed as much in the way of breasts," Madam had explained, kindly, yet frankly. "This means that these areas will feel loose when you reach eighteen inches. You're young, and your body may widen by way of hips, but in my experience, that's quite rare."
"If I can't persuade my mother to let me purchase my own corsets, what can I do?" Sarah had asked, chewing her lip.
Madam had given her a reassuring smile. "Your breasts will grow over time, but it may feel a bit loose at the top. With the hips, in the past, girls and women have used padding along that area. It doesn't work as well as a custom corset, but in a family with many growing daughters and rather limited resources, many have managed by doing so."
Now, laced to eighteen and a half (she'd managed to lose the quarter inch again this morning), Sarah was beginning to see what Madam had meant. It wasn't uncomfortable as much as looser in the bottom of her corset than in the other areas. A good corset, Sarah knew, was supposed to feel like a hug all over-and the hug rather stopped a bit below her waist.
Now, Madam measured her again, both with the corset on and off, although always allowing Sarah to keep her chemise on. Sarah was glad for this, as standing nearly naked in front of a near stranger would have been too embarrassing for words.
"Yes, at eighteen and a half inches, you will certainly need a smaller size soon," Madam observed, "and the hip area is not as small as it ought to be. Once you have one of my custom ones, and after your body adapts to it, you will be quite happy with the results."
"I was eighteen and a half for the dance, and comfortable throughout," Sarah confided, with a smile. "Do you think I will reach eighteen soon?"
Madam Barnatte gave her a close examination. "Well, as your wear is limited to daytime hours, and you are reaching the point where every inch takes much longer, I believe it could be a few months. If you were lacing at night, I would say a month to two, but that's not an option at the moment, and we must work with the tools we have."
Sarah nodded. "So, the ones you make will close at eighteen?"
The corsetiere frowned, just a bit. "I would do that if you had no plans to ever lace down at night. It would take over a year and a half to go to seventeen at that rate. However, your mother seems relatively amendable to night corsets by the time your summer holidays come around. If you're agreeable, I will craft a sixteen inch corset. Of course, my dear," she added, seeing Sarah's look of elation, "such a measurement might take as long as two years to reach even if you do sleep corseted. But I would prefer you have room to lace downwards."
Sarah still couldn't hide the grin from her face. Sixteen inches! Of course, she would be in her fifth or sixth year when it closed, but all the same...
She had seen sixteen inch waists at the dance. Morwenna, who had a keen eye for measurements, had pointed them out. While not so small as to be unachievable by many, it was a stunning sight to behold. Rather larger than your neck, easily able for a boy to encircle (she blushed a bit at this idea)...yes, sixteen was a lovely goal.
"I'd love to reach that measurement before I finish school," Sarah confided.
Madam, smiling, put a hand on her shoulders. "It will likely be sooner than that. I don't know what your goals are, and much depends on when you can sleep corseted, but I would not put sixteen as my end goal."
"How-how small do you think I could get?"
Madam studied her again. "Fifteen with ease. Fourteen, with a bit of luck. Mind you, many girls who don't marry immediately upon finishing school continue to train down their waists. Not to the measurements of twelve and thirteen, usually, but I have crafted corsets for fourteen inches on plenty of occasions. If that is your goal, you might reach it."
Sarah nodded, then laughed. "I expect I should focus now on reaching eighteen."
The older woman laughed as well. "Very true!"
After Madam skillfully and carefully laced her in-which certainly felt lovely after having self laced for a couple of days-Sarah dressed in her robes, and returned to her mother. Elizabeth took her turn, then, and Sarah's mother gave her hand a squeeze.
"How did everything go?" Mrs. Evansville asked.
"Very well. My current corset is a reasonable fit, but Madam thinks that I will be even more comfortable in a custom made one." She watched her mother. "What do you think-now, I mean?"
"Well, it's not something I expect to take up in my middle age!" she laughed, even though at thirty-seven, she wasn't exactly old. "But I feel much more at ease than I had even a day ago. This Madam Barnatte may be a businessman with a product to sell, but she's also a mother. Beside, I don't suppose that, especially now, so many people would wear corsets if they were truly awful. Escape you, honey."
"I wouldn't," Sarah agreed. "If it was uncomfortable, or hard to breathe, I wouldn't care how nice I looked, or what the other girls said."
Mrs. Evansville squeezed her hand again. "I know. You have always been rather stubbornly independent, even if you are quiet. Got it from your father, you did. And I am sorry for not being more understanding in the beginning. I realize that letter wasn't easy to send, and I rather sent you a lecture in response."
"Well," Sarah conceded, "at least it wasn't a Howler!"
Both could chuckle at this.
The corsets would take three days to make, and Madam Barnatte would begin them that afternoon. This time of year, she had fewer orders, with the main ones coming in at the beginning of the summer holidays and again at the end. Girls arrived home after being flat-chested upon their last visit, but as soon as their mothers (and fathers) saw them, they had begun to change, as though overnight. Whether it was simply used to remove a couple of inches from the waist and give support to the breasts, as in about half of her teenage clients, or begin the long process of transforming a waist in the twenties to one below eighteen, mothers and daughters nearly filled her shop during the summer months.
"Corsetry can be a very seasonal business," she'd explained, with a laugh. "There are days when I rarely see my children, and others when I spend entire days with them."
As much as she loved wearing a corset, it was not a line of work Sarah would wish to pursue.
So, they waited, and while they waited, Sarah and Elizabeth spent most of their days at each other's houses, occasionally taking walks outside. They finished their holiday homework within this time frame, which would give them plenty of time and mental space to enjoy Christmas when it arrived.
Not that it was immediately upon them. Their holiday was a bit over two weeks this year, as Christmas fell more than a week after this holiday began, in the middle of the week.
It was rather good luck, because it meant that if all went well, they would have their new corsets properly broken in a few days before Christmas.
And when the corsets arrived, both girls were rather startled by how stiff they felt. It wasn't difficult to breathe, especially since Madam insisted that they only lace to two inches below their natural waist before they were entirely at ease in them, but it was far from the warm and comfortable hug Sarah and Elizabeth had grown to expect.
Madam had expected their confusion, even their disappointment.
"Take heart! You were wearing ones that had been well broken in before they were placed on your bodies. Your good friends did the arduous task of breaking in their corsets for you, and you reaped the results. But these will settle to your bodies quickly, especially if you adhere to the timetable I laid out. In three days, they will fit beautifully. Some girls and women say that nearly melt upon lacing up once it's truly broken in," Madam advised. To their mothers, she added, "Keep an eye on your daughters. Don't let them overdo it, or lace tighter than the initial two inches. Not until after three days, and then, they may resume their former measurements."
Everyone nodded sagely, and Sarah had to admit that within the quarter hour, some of the stiffness had begun to recede.
Neither girl, but Sarah supposed especially herself, had any desire to deviate from Madam's carefully laid out instructions. What would be the point? Yes, it felt a bit strange to be laced to nineteen and a half after being at eighty and a half, but she didn't want to hurt herself, or her corset. And she certainly didn't wish to give her mother any reason to think she couldn't handle waist training.
So, for the following three days, each girl rose, ate breakfast, carefully laced down two inches (checked by their mothers), and set ablaze the task of enjoying the holidays (and completing their holiday assignments) while their corsets settled. Sarah and Elizabeth compared notes, often to the interest and amused of Annie, regarding their progress.
"I'm glad we're not supposed to eat with them on," Elizabeth admitted, on the second day, "but I am rather tempted to eat too much! And Mum made her delicious biscuits, and it was all I could do to stop at two."
Sarah faced similar temptations. Both mothers had been baking up a storm, but not indulging to some extent was simply too much of a temptation to forego. Not that it made it difficult to lace down, afterwards, only (perhaps) at dinner, when they knew their corsets would not return to their bodies until the next day.
"We have it easy, compared to the ancestors of our roommates," Elizabeth noted, at the end of the second day. "Can you imagine being laced down five inches on your first day? Or even four, like Dora's poor mum?"
"Or those dreadful punishment corsets?" Sarah shuddered.
The early ones were even worse than the ones worn by the grandparents. Not only was breathing without gasping nearly impossible, charms could be applied to make them far worse. A particularly "effective" charm was the Itching one, but others in use were the "poking," which was designed to invert the steel inward to it pried into the most sensitive parts of the body, and the "freezing and fire" charm, which made the poor wearer feel as though she were alternating between being frozen and burned alive.
These were outlawed after five teenage witches went mad in one year. Perhaps the most convincing argument for banning them was when Anna Panbilt, a lovely sixteen year old witch, had killed her parents as they slept. Her memories, shown by a pensieve, revealed a set of over ambitious parents were determined for her to reach twelve inches before she turned seventeen the following month. When she removed her formidable twelve inch sleeping corset for the third time in a row one week-in which she hadn't slept a wink and was already nearly delirious-her mother herself laced her punishment corset to eleven and a half inches for a week, and had the tortuous charms had been set to rotate hourly. Anna's punishment was only a week in Azkaban, as she had clearly been driven to madness. She remained in St. Mungos for the remainder of her short life: she starved herself within five weeks.
Unfortunately, it took many more years for the sale of punishment corsets to be outlawed entirely.
"Yes. Makes breaking in a corset feel like a slight tickle," Elizabeth said, with a giggle.
But the hard work paid off. On the fourth day, exactly one day before Christmas Eve, Sarah laced herself up to find that she was beyond entirely at ease. She felt warm, held, supported, and, yes, hugged tightly but without any restrictions on her breathing. More than that, now that the stiffness was gone, she could feel the corset mold to her body in the way Morwenna's hadn't. From her breasts to her hips, the corset both contoured and moved along her every curve. It gently held her waist in and supported her small breasts, holding her in a warm, intimate hug. Sarah, upon experiencing this, found herself letting out a sigh of pure pleasure, and wondered if this was the "melting" sensation Madam meant. Certainly, she felt so comfortable that, in spite being laced to eighteen and a half (which was now permitted), she was entirely at ease and filled with happiness, even joy, at the thought of being able to wear her new corset at this measurement for the entire day!
"Isn't it lovely?" she asked Elizabeth that morning, seeing her friend with a particularly wide smile on her face.
Her best friend's smile widened into a grin. "I thought Demelza's were comfortable, but these are marvelous. Oh, I can't wait until our mums say we can sleep in them? Can you just imagine waking up like this?"
Sarah nodded as they walked towards their favorite park. "I'm hoping they'll agree come the Easter break."
Elizabeth murmured her agreement.
They spent at least an hour on the swings, chatting as they swung back and forth, until it was too cold to ignore.
"Annie promises she'll apply Warming and Cooling charms on our clothes just as soon as she's of age. Only a couple of months away!" Elizabeth confided, as they walked home.
"She must be excited!"
"Very! It's rather a good thing that our parents are muggles, though. They're used to thinking of eighteen as reaching adulthood. If they were magical, I expect they would be discussing a wedding the moment Annie turned seventeen," Elizabeth laughed.
"Do you think they will get married?" Sarah wondered.
"Yes, but not as soon as my parents would like. They want to get jobs first, save some money, that sort of thing."
Once inside of Elizabeth's house, they helped themselves to hot chocolate, and then settled down to watch TV.
As nice as the wizarding world was, both Sarah and Elizabeth agreed that muggle technology wasn't something they would want to do without.
Their families celebrated together for Christmas, just as they had done for the past two years. But Sarah thought that this one had been the best-and she hoped that the ones to follow would be even better.
When Sarah returned to Hogwarts, her waist was a shade under eighteen and a quarter.
Author's note:
Sarah's a character I wanted to flesh out a bit more, and is loosely based on myself. Although I have never been to boarding school, much less one for witches and wizards, I am quiet by nature and can feel very insecure in a new environment.
I also imagine that muggle borns like her would have some difficulty adjusting to a world where most of their classmates spent all of their life. You can adjust to the information you might have missed, but less to the culture. Draco Malfoy wasn't incorrect in saying that they don't know the ways of the wizarding world-but he was definitely wrong to think they're inferior. Hogwarts ought to have done more to socially integrate muggle borns, perhaps assigning mentors or something.
On a corsetry note, I rather think that the acceptance of family and friends is what most people seek during their journey. Some have it, some don't. And others, like myself, keep it hidden in "real life" from all but the few who "need to know."
One of my goals in writing this fanfic is to spread awareness and truth about corsets and waist training. And if it sparks an interest in someone (who's over 18!) to look into it...even better!
Regarding the Elizabeth chapter: I've decided to hold off on that, at least for now. If it flows correctly, I might write a chapter for her that takes place during the Easter "holidays" (quotes because Hogwarts views this time as an excuse to give massive amounts of homework, and begin studying for exams), but right now, it would feel too forced. Also, I want to return to Dora and her family.
Finally...if you've read so far, and are enjoying the fic, I'd greatly appreciate a line or two (or more, if you're so inclined) of feedback. Ideas for additional storylines are most welcome, and I can attest to having used them in the past!